-Rating- PG/PG-13
-Category- Mostly A/I which is surprising to me, but also M&M, YaY!
-Summary- Umm, okay, well in this verison, they're not aliens. Woo-hoo. Isabel and Michael are dating, but things change...
-Spoilers- None what-so-ever.
-Disclaimer- No, I don't own them, are you happy now?
-Author's Notes- You know Heatwave when Max and Liz kiss? I am dying to know what that song is called. I can't figure it out and it's killing me, torturing me every second of the day. If you know, please e-mail me and tell me. Thanks.

***

"Maybe it‘s a trick of late of the light, maybe...” Maria cooed to the smooth male voice playing on her radio. At nearly five in the morning, she stood in front of her full-length mirror, wearing old jean Capri's from two years ago and tight black belly shirt with the V-neck. It wasn’t quite the perfect fit anymore. Formerly, it was supposed to end by the bottoms of her ribs, just exposing her bellybutton, but now, the seam ended almost immediately under her breasts. Well, it wasn’t like she was going to wear it in public. Years ago, she had took pride in strolling into middle school wearing that shirt. True, she had gotten stuck in detention for many precious hours, but then she believed it worthy for all the stares she got from the boys. She hugged her sides. So many good memories with this shirt, she recalled fondly. Suddenly, she heard something crash outside her room. It sounded like breaking glass, or maybe even ceramic, she considered. It definitely was coming from the living room.

The living room was a complete mess. Spring break had officially arrived, up in here. Evidence was all over the room. Her older sister, Isabel, a.k.a. Iz was a trendy, popular student. Iz lay snoring restfully on the kitchen counter, wearing nothing but bright red bikini top and really short, short jean shorts. Her arm was lying looking somewhat dead on the side. On the floor directly under her was a shattered I LOVE NY mug. That must have been the crash, she deducted. Some boys from school lay on the carpet without any shirts. Their chests’ were covered in old crusty ketchup and melted whipped cream. It dripped down their sides. Maria held back the urge to gag. How her sister could even let these people in the house mystified her. A fun-looking red head girl, clad in similar apparel to Iz, was squished in her grandmother’s old rocking chair. She’s gonna die for this, Maria thought gaily. Last, but definitely not least, Iz’s boyfriend, Michael, was sleeping on the couch. Usually, Iz would never keep a boyfriend for more than two hours. She had her precious little rep to keep up. But Michael was different. Number one, he wasn’t on the varsity football team, a first for her sis. Michael wasn’t considered a good guy or a bad guy. Bad guys at Roswell High were defined as the All-American type. He was a rebel, although not you’re average rebel. He was strange, but in a captivating sort of way. And he was hot. Passionate, was the first word that came to mind. Whatever he did, he did it thoroughly and perfectly. Although he didn’t do much. But what mattered is that Maria really liked him.

Michael Guerin was the object of Maria’s affection. He stood tall, and proud, and maybe just slightly cocky. His eyes were a gray-brown, but they contained some sort of fire that no one could explain. His mouth was always firm, always hiding true emotions. His sharp cheekbones...everything about him screamed masculinity.

He was the most intact of the group. He was just sleeping on the couch. No injuries and, surprisingly, no ketchup. Maria noiselessly edged closer to his sleeping figure. Michael was sporting a mud green shirt and a pair of black jeans. His golden-brown spiky hair was at its natural spikiest. No gel, she noted. Maria had always relished imagined running her hands through it. It looked so soft.... Before she could help herself, her arm reached out and was just about to--

“What are you doing?” Michael demanded loudly, despite the fact that he had just awoken.

Maria smoothly ran her hand over his head and grabbed her compact disc. Thank God Iz had a fetish for BSB!

“I was getting my CD,” She replied matter-of-factly. She wiped it clean of fingerprints on the side of her Capri’s.

He arched his brow. “At five in the morning?” He asked with a glint of suspicion.

“I couldn’t sleep.” She retorted. Maria turned and looked out the window, trying her best not to be too suspicious-looking. “You and your splendid little girlfriend are gonna pay for this.” Quickly changing the subject.

“Me?” He asked mockingly surprised. “I had no part in this. The people barged and demanded a party. Your sister,” he emphasized pointing his index finger at the sleeping girl, “could not refuse.”

“Right. And I’m Majandra Delfino.” She replied sarcastically.

“I don’t care.” He replied like the grouch he could be. “I’m going to sleep. Don’t wake me up again.” And with that, his head returned to the arm of the couch.

Maria smiled to herself and disappeared to her room.

*~*~*~*

Alex gracefully swept his hand across the guitar strings. “Like that, okay?” The result was perfect, driving Maria absolutely mad with jealousy. He had been struggling to teach her the guitar for about three weeks now. Maria hadn’t exactly “taken” to it yet, but Alex was stubborn. He was going to teach her how to play if it killed him.

Alex Whitman was one of Maria’s best friends. He was her frother (friend/brother). He was one of the most diverse people Roswell had ever known. Alex had an enormous sense of humor, yet a deep sincerity at the same time. He could make anyone smile. The way a goofy grin was always fused on his face. The way his cerulean eyes twinkled. Everything about him was just so warm and caring.

“Okay.” Maria firmly held the guitar and inhaled deeply. She closed her eyes in attention and slowly ran her hands over the chords. A sickening sound filled the air. Wrong, again. Maria felt a storm of frustration blow over her mind.

She hurled the guitar to the floor in defeat. “I can’t do it!” She shrieked. She violently squeezed her reeling head. “I’m going crazy!”

“No,” Alex objected calmly, “you’re not.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “You can do this. It’s just a piece of wood and a bunch of horsehairs. You can master it.” Maria chuckled softly. “Anyway,” Alex changed the pitch of his voice to a more cheerful one, “how are you supposed to have a band with no guitar? Liz has the bass and Tess has the drums down. And you have the voice. No one can master the voice. It’s given to them. And you have a beautiful voice. But it would sound so much better accompanied by a guitar.” He removed his hand from its perch on her shoulder and picked up the instrument. “And I’m not letting Mr. Horsehair over here let you give up your dream.” He offered her the guitar. “Are you with me?”

Maria slowly reached out for the guitar. She smiled and nodded. “I’m with you.” She accepted it and once again held it firmly in her grasp.

Alex smiled triumphantly. “Good.” Now, place your fingers over here,” He guided her fingers with his hands. “Now,” he instructed.

She slowly let her hand glide over the strong, stiff wires. She shut her eyes as she did this, waiting impatiently to see if she had fulfilled the task correctly. Bit by bit, she heard the right melody fill her ears. Her eyes expanded with excitement and pleasure.

“Alex!” She cried happily. “I did it right!” She leaped up excitedly and started jumping up and down like a rabid kangaroo. She embraced Alex firmly. “I did it!’ she cried again. They danced around the room happily with gratification.

*~*~*~*

“Isabel Lucia DeLuca! Get your sorry ass down here!” Her mother, Amy yelled from the base of the steps. She was wearing a long tee shirt that read “I Survived The ‘47 Crash” and a pair of gray sweatpants. Eventually, a sleepy-eyed sullen looking blonde emerged from the darkness of the DeLuca household in the morning. Isabel was wearing an old Nick Carter tee shirt and a pair of old jeans missing some tacky rhinestones. It was one of those outfits she must’ve pulled out from the depths of her closet.

Hours ago, the party people had woken up and left the house. Of course, they didn’t bother to pick up anything, or even offer to help out. Michael had been the last one to leave. Even before he rose, Iz had scurried him out, for she was panicky to find out what Amy would do if she knew her daughter’s boyfriend had spent the night, even thought they hadn’t done anything. So Michael had been the only one left in the same condition he had arrived. And Iz was left alone to face the fury of her mother. Although in her mind, she resolved to come up with some nasty, unreasonable revenge for her so-called friends.

“Oh God Mom, please don’t start.” She whined sleepily as she ambled down the last steps.

“Oh no, missy. You are going to clean up what you and your evil little friends did to my living room. You turned my poor house into...into,” she carefully picked up an alien theme coaster, which was covered in millions of tiny dark ants and quickly dropped it. “This mess.” She cautiously made her way through the rotting banana peels and wet paper towels. When she was mid-way up the stairs, she called out to her daughter, “ and no fun!”

“Mom, it’s Saturday!” Iz pleaded with her last shred of hope for a free day.

“I really couldn’t care less.” Her mother replied snootily. She smiled at herself. Finally, maybe her daughter would-

“I hate you!” Isabel shrieked furiously. “I’m gonna put you in an old age home, I tell you!” She threatened dangerously to her retreating mother.

Nevertheless, Amy continued up the stairs grasping her mug of boiling herbal tea. This was going to be a day of relaxation, she thought to herself. I’ll start off finishing my book, with no rock music in the background, meditate, take a bath, maybe even go get a facial, or, she planned excitedly, go to the spa!

*~*~*~*

Isabel crudely inspected Maria and Alex. There he was again, trying to teach how to play that guitar. Iz had minimal confidence in her little sister, after all, when did siblings adore each other? Deep down, in the midst of her heart, though, she loved.

“She turned away what was she looking at? She was a sour girl the day that she met me.” Alex recited singly. “You do not look anywhere near a happy camper.” He summed.

“Hey Alex.” Isabel said. She flipped on the coffee maker hastily. God knew she’d need a lot of it. She opened the cupboard and groped for a cup. Settling her hands on one, she pulled it out and set it beside the noisy machine. She brushed the untamed strand of hair behind her ear.

Maria sat in her chair and puzzled thought to herself. Something was not right. She took a second glance at her sister confirming that, yes, she was wearing crazy apparel this lovely morning, and yes, Alex was here. Could it be? Could her up-to-the-minute sister, being wearing something completely out of the hour in front of the public?

“Iz,” Maria called to her sister’s back, “love the outfit.” She chuckled mockingly.

Iz turned around and faced Maria and Alex. She opened her mouth to make a snide comment, but quickly shut it. It was early in the morning, and obviously, everyone was irritable. I’ll let it slide, she decided silently. But she denied the real excuse to surface.

“Ria, Alex, you guys want anything while I’m up?” She offered. They shook their heads simultaneously. Isabel continued playing around with the coffee maker until she jerked it out and poured herself a cup of strong black coffee.

The three teenagers sat silently on their chairs content with doing nothing. They just absorbed each other’s presence and essence. Eventually, about 10 minutes of the solemnly stunning silence, Alex spoke up:

“I better get going. My Mom wants me to help her move her dresser thingy.” Alex excused. He got out of his chair and pushed it in, motivating the sisters to come back to life. Isabel carried her cup to the sink, placed it down and filled it with water. Formerly, she would just leave it in the sink, or on lazier days, she would just leave it; but on one day, when she was drinking her black coffee, it left a stain in the cup. Amy used everything to get it out, for it was a souvenir. She used Brillo, numerous journeys through the dishwasher, and even iron wool, but all it did was make a few scratches. On a second thought, Isabel picked up a cheery yellow sponge and began scrubbing.

“Okay.” Maria said. She hugged Alex, “Thanks for the lessons. I think we’re finally getting somewhere.” She gushed.

Alex headed for the door. He opened it cautiously, contemplating whether to say goodbye to Isabel or not. He approached the thought warily, cause he didn’t want to destroy the undersized relation he barely had with her. Okay buddy, you’ve got it bad. So what? Plenty of guys liked Isabel. Yes, Alex, but you worship the girl. Fine, he was whipped. Under control and command of Queen Iz. He, unlike the other losers, saw her on a regular basis out of high school. He smiled proudly. He may have a huge thang for Isabel, but Ria was his girl.

“Bye Isabel.” Alex called out, carefree.

Isabel turned to him. She smiled. “See ya.” And she winked.

Hey what are you looking at, she was a happy girl when she left me, Alex sang the lyrics in his mind.

*~*~*~*

Michael cleared his throat and took in a deep breath. You’re gonna do fine. He told himself. This is it, he thought desperately. He extended his sweaty hand and applied pressure to the small button. Inside, he heard a dull ring. Some one shuffled down the steps, and fondled with the door lock. Finally it opened, and he found himself in the face Amy DeLuca, his girlfriend’s mother.

“Hello, ma’am.” He said nervously.

“You’re Michael?” She asked, eyeing him from head to toe.

“Yes, ma’am.” He replied, stiffening his body.

“Drop the ma’am, you make me sound like I’m an old lady or something.” Amy advised. She smiled warmly. “Don’t be scared.” She grasped his hand. “It’s not like your marrying Isabel.” He laughed. “I’m serious, buddy.” She said.

She led him the house and left for the kitchen. She mentioned something about the fish acting up again.

Michael continued to stand there awkwardly, with his parchy hands entwined behind his back. He craned his head into the living room, where Maria was watching TV.

“Have a seat, love boy.” She offered patting the spot next to her on the blue couch. He slowly approached her, and sat down gently, feeling a little self-conscious and guilty. He was here for Isabel, well, mostly Isabel, and he was spending time with her little sister. That was against the rules. Although he never was one to follow them. He smirked to himself.

“What are you watching?” He inquired. A woman on the screen seemed to be advertising Jenny Craig bars. Whoa, she was following everyone with those bars? Will no one be original? For once not follow the crowd?

“Only one of the greatest television shows of all time!” Maria gushed enthusiastically waving her arms around with the remote in her hand.

“Spiderman?!” He asked happily, his eyes widening excitedly.

“Dummy,” she mumbled and whacked the Spidy fan with the remote on the side of his arm. He held up his hands defensively, but he was no match, she threatened him, and he let down his protest. “The Simpsons!” She cried exasperatedly.

“Oh.“ Was all he replied in disappointment. He settled down and watched all the stupid, pointless, endless commercials. If he ruled the world, that would be the first thing he’s kick out.

Maria glanced at Michael out of the corner of her eye. This was what she enjoyed. Sitting next to him and hearing his body slowly and rhythmically rise and fall with each breath. Call her obsessed, but it soothed her. He was just watching the screen. The screen, not you, her mind told her.

“Shut up,” she unintentionally replied. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand in surprise.

“Who are you talking to?” Michael asked curiously, as if she said the wrong answer, he would beat her up.

“Did I just say that out loud?” She asked stupidly. Think of something quick, chica. Michael gave her a look. “I was just...uh, well, you see-”

“Hey Michael,” Isabel breathed seductively.

If there was a time she loved her sister more than life itself, this was it. She felt like jumping and hugging her sister till she busted. She leapt up and suppressed the need to envelop her with her arms. She (attempted to) pass Iz calmly, but ended up skipping.

“I’m just gonna go help Mom in the kitchen,” she said mockingly innocent, while she pointed towards the kitchen with a sideways thumbs up. She quickly leaped away to the kitchen.

Michael ascended from the couch. There was a small indentation where he had been resting.

“Hey baby,” Isabel said under her breath, smiling mischievously. She had a twinkle of excitement n her blue eyes.

Michael cleared his throat. He had never (ever) been good with the ladies. Sure girls liked him, but he didn’t really react well towards them. So the most of his adolescence, he had avoided girls. Until now. Why Iz had begun with him remained a mystery. And not only him, the whole school questioned their “relationship“. But he didn’t mind. Not that he didn’t like Iz, she was a pretty cool person, but from the start, he knew this relationship wasn’t going to elevate into something serious. Anyway, why should he pass up a chance of a little fun? He could already smell an elaborate break up brewing in Iz’s playful mind. Okay, maybe he did get a little carried away with letting her think he was so digging her. This time, he had followed the crowd. So what? It wasn’t like she was gonna kill him, although, he had heard about some school shooting where a crazy ex-girlfriend starting shooting people...

“Michael?” Iz asked, searching his gray eyes for any signs of attention.

“Yea?” He replied, getting back into it.

“Dinner’s waiting.” She said, inviting him to the table, where disarray of plates lined down the rich mahogany dinner table. The aroma of chicken, bread, and various spices, filled his nose. He downed a sufficient amount of satisfying smells. They tempted him like a pile of money in an open field, just waiting for him to grab it. He could practically hear it beckoning him like...like Maria? A forbidden fruit, in a forbidden garden. Yet he longed for it, not only because it wasn’t allowed, but also because it was beautiful. Inside and outside. He wanted to get to know the inside like the back of his hand. He wanted to touch her, to taste her, and to hold her. He wanted to wake up next to her every morning, to protect her, unlike her father, who made her wary of almost anything. He allowed himself a quick peek at her. Just a peek, he promised himself. Her hair must have touched by the rays of the golden sun and swallowed the color into her strands. Her eyes could no way be human. They were deep; deep jade mixed with a little olive. Her skin was pale, white with a bit of a tan. Her nose; a perfect fixture placed beautifully in the center of her face. Her tempting lips, a deep shade of crimson, just gesturing for him to place his upon hers. Oh, the lure was great, by far greater than anything he had ever experienced before. He resolved in his mind to one day love her and make her love him like he loved her.

“Smells great Ms. DeLuca,” Michael praised, grasping his fork and spoon in impertinence. He gazed longingly at the platters filled with steaming food.

Maria discreetly ahemmed him. He turned towards her, surprised. She acted very polite and expressively took out her napkin and shook it a few times before placing it daintily on her lap.

He understood what she was trying to tell him. Manners. A virtue he was not blessed with. He gently placed the spoon and fork down, trying not to bring attention towards him. After that, he took out his folded napkin and spread it out on his lap, and waiting patiently as possible for the meal to begin.

After what seemed an eternity, Amy’s long awaited end came. She sat in her chair, and declared that dinner was served. After that, the table was busy with passing plates and cups filling to the rim with liquid.

*~*~*~*

“So you better get home,” Isabel commented as dinner came to an end.

In retrospect, dinner wasn’t all that bad. Michael hadn’t made too much of a fool in front of everyone and Amy’s heart had actually found some reason to really love the guy. Iz and Ria could hardy believe it. It just didn’t make sense. Moms were supposed to loathe their daughter’s boyfriends’, not dig them. It puzzled them immensely, but who said they were complaining?

“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding. He had been a little disappointed. Alright, he had gotten more than he asked for with the whole encounter with Maria in the living room, but it quite quench his thirst now that he thought about it. He needed more of her, and it was driving him crazy. He wanted to come clean with his feelings. His mind was trying to convince him that she had to feel just a little for him, but yet he questioned it. Was it flirting or just fun? Did she want something, or did she want pleasure? He wasn’t sure, and this was way too delicate to try anything too fast.

Maria wanted Michael to run away her lonely blues. She laughed comically, what the hell am I coming up with? She spied on her sister saying her goodbyes to Michael. They stood under the perch by the front door. Damn it was beautiful out there. It was nearly ten o’clock, yet there were still some patches of light scattered sparsely amongst the stars. The heavens were a velvet azure color, and particles of velvet purple seemed to be blown there. It took her breath away, that, and Michael.

She smiled again. There he was, standing awkwardly. He told her once he was never good with goodbyes. He leaned lazily against the side of the house, wearing his black leather jacket loosely around his well-built body. He gazed at something far away, with a dream in eye. His lips formed a straight and firm line. His thumbs were stuck in the pockets of his blue jeans and the reminder of his hands rested along the lining of his pants. She looked closer. He was decking those two rings again. He always wore them, yet tonight, they were on different fingers. Her gaze returned to it’s spot at his face. His hair was a brownish straw color, one that she couldn’t quite name. Last year, his hair had been unruly, spiky, and completely adorable. This year he’d lost the look, and Maria thought it made his hair look slightly darker. It didn't matter. His gray-brown eyes held this intensity that dazzled her.

“Goodnight,” Isabel called as she trailed up the stairs.

Michael fumbled down the path. He stopped suddenly, and muttered something about his wallet under his breath. He turned around quickly and ran back into the house.

*~*~*~*

Michael slowly opened the creaky front door. Amy and Iz had already went up to their rooms; Maria on the other hand could still be down there for all he knew. He entered the living, and went over to the couch. He stuffed his hands in between ever crevice between each cushion. Maybe I really left my wallet here purposely, he thought, maybe I wasn’t satisfied leaving Maria just yet. No luck. The wallet was still at large. I’ll come back tomorrow, he decided. Yet he was uneasy not having his wallet. But what could he do? He wrapped his jacket around himself and slowly crept back out. He slowly shut the door, making sure to hear the small click ensuring the door was really locked. He turned around and there, was his goddess, Maria standing there, with his black leather wallet dangling from her hands.

“Looking for this?” She asked under the cover of the night sky. Play it cool, he told himself.

Michael hand extended out faster than then a flash of lightening to seize his wallet, yet Maria hand retracted faster than light itself.

“Uh uh,” she uttered. He gave a look of plead, and she seemed to back down just a little, but not enough.

Michael smiled. He knew what his evil little mind was planning out, and he fully intended to perform it. This time he grabbed for it again, yet he knew she was too fast. He came closer to her. Tantalizingly close. He could feel her breath brush up against his face. He edged closer and leaned in. By now he assumed she knew what he was going to do, although she wasn’t rejecting him yet.

His lips converged with hers, meeting like a butterfly landing on a delicate flower. That was when they felt the tingle of fire and ice. Oh, it was magical. And addictive. He could feel the sides of her mouth curving upwards into a smile. He smiled too. So she did like the kiss. He came in again and kissed her again. If you want to call it a kiss, but it was far too modest to describe what this was. White hot, embers and sparks generated between them and flickered brightly, like the rapturous attraction they had towards each other. The intensity of this “kiss” was beyond human. The universes spinned round and round inside their heads. The light drowned them with its purity and clarity. It was so genuine and yet so lustful that it scared Maria. I mean, if this was what just one kiss could do... She pulled herself in closer to Michael, while still lip locked, she murmured, “You didn‘t say good bye.”

“You have no idea, Maria,” Michael said laughingly, breaking off the vinculum.

“Oh I think I do,” she objected. “I like you, Michael Guerin, I --” She stopped, seeing that Michael was rolling his eyes. “And you chose my sister over me.” She said deeply.

“I don’t care about your sister.” He hesitated and lowered his voice, “I care about you.” He laughed. “Didn’t Iz complain?” He asked.

Maria folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head to one side, “Complain about what?”

“She didn’t tell you!” He laughed again, and then silenced. “She must’ve thought it was her.”

“What?” Maria asked curiously.

“She didn’t get any.” Michael answered.

Maria’s eyes widened in realization. She squeaked excitedly. “That’s why she held on to you so long!” She shrieked. She couldn’t help but get up on her tiptoes, and kissed Michael quickly on the lips in thanks.

*~*~*~*

Something had urged Isabel to go to the window. The sky, maybe, or the stars. Secretly, she had been studying astrology. If it wasn’t secretly, she wouldn’t be West Roswell High’s It Girl. She loved being adored and sought after. She cherished being an untouchable. But she didn’t want everyone to think she was a total geek who analyzed the stars and constellations. It just didn’t fit under the title of her stature. She would have to leave her table and sit alone. And that was just what she feared most. She didn’t want to be alone.

She folded the white down feather comforter over and slowly placed her feet on the floor. Her room was dark except for the minimal light filtering through her windows. It cast a blue light over her furniture and bed. She strode over to the window, careful as to not trip over one her discarded things. When Isabel had reached the sill, she steadied herself on the white little perch where the metal openers were nailed. She grasped one and turned around and around till the window was as ajar as possible. She craned her neck out into the cool night air and looked up at the stars. The same stars that held the same magnificence night after night.

Isabel’s eyes skimmed over the sky and her family’s property. Down by the pathway, were Maria and Michael. Isabel’s mouth gaped open in shock. There they were, standing out in the middle of the night, kissing passionately. She gripped the ledge to steady herself. This isn’t possible, she told herself, no, I’m just dreaming. She pinched her shoulder. Ouch! Okay, this is just a very realistic dream, she conned herself. Yes, that’s right. She blinked her eyes quickly a few times to hold back the sheen of tears gathering at her lashes. Don’t cry, Isabel, you’re strong. You’ve been through worse than this. Remember when your father left, remember Mom and Dad fighting? What about the time you had to kiss Paul, that was worse, she told herself. Who am I kidding?

A tiny tear slid out of the corner of her eye and ran down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away. You’re strong, he’s nothing. He’s just a boy, Isabel; he’s just like the rest of them. A small sod escaped through her firm lips. She held her face in her hands and wept. She didn’t know what to feel. Part of her felt betrayed, but part of her felt relieved. It was obvious there wasn’t anything real, but still, why did she have to find them? She didn’t like being the one in the backseat. All of her life she had been the one in control of the relationship, and now, she wasn’t. It’s okay, Isabel, she told herself as the sobs died down. Right now, she needed to be in control of something. She hastily pulled on a pair of shorts and quietly snuck down the steps, and fled out the backdoor.

Her padded feet hit the pavement with a wet slap. The noise made Isabel grimace; she didn’t want the two lovers to discover her. She looked behind her back. About five houses blocked her view to her own home. Her breathing eased as she found her pace on the lonely dark streets of Roswell. She wanted to head a little in town, maybe sit on a bench by the park to think things over. The misty fog hovering over the world soothed her like nothing else could. It wasn’t hot, yet it wasn’t cool. It was perfect. Enough about everything else, she told herself, I have to start thinking. She laid out the facts as she approached Main St., dimly lit with a few old-fashioned streetlights. Michael is-was her boyfriend. So, maybe they didn’t have a very hot relationship, but it was still something. She felt the lump in her throat rise like the sun. Iz swallowed hard, hoping that would make it go away but it didn’t. She smiled at herself. It’s not Michael that’s making you cry, Isabel discovered, it’s the way people think you don’t feel. She ruled high school as the Ice Princess, tempting yet...frosty. To them, she didn’t feel she just supposedly lured guys into traps, just to humiliate them. Guys were attracted to her with empty allure. All they wanted was... was to slide into home. Girls claimed she was a totally bitch; yet amongst their deepest wishes, they longed to be her. So that’s where she was.

Isabel slid unto the cool, wood bench nestled on a street walk, right in front of the park. A street lamp stood next to it, illuminating the bench and park. Across the street lay an assortment of stores and shops. No big, rich department stores, or worldwide grocers, like Shaw's‘, or BJ’s. Although, Freddie’s, a small fruit and your basics shop was closest to Iz. She stared in at the vacant aisles, stocked with canned beans and Ruffles. She recalled days shopping with her mom, running carefree through there. Never having to worry about guys trying to get in her pants, or what others will think. Isabel missed the small innocent naive girl who wanted her mom to hold her. The little girl who thought the world was a beautiful place, where people could live happily ever after. No, not anymore; she was jaded. There was no price, nothing exchangeable to just have one hour to be that little girl, she was Iz, now, not little Izzie.

Lost in her thoughts, Isabel didn’t hear the rhythmic beating heading towards her. She didn’t see the black-haired blue eyed boy emerge from the shadows behind the bare shops. If she had, she would wipe away the endless tears flowing down her cheeks and managed some way to keep them caged behind her eyelids. Alex had no idea what to think. He hadn’t seen Isabel cry since she was seven, when she had stubbed her toe against a rock. Something happened. Something very serious. In his mind, different opportunities and different schemes took place. He could go over there and comfort her, only to be shunned away. Or he could just go, and watch his heart break with every turn of the screw, and be left to watch her the rest of his life and not see this ever again. She would keep it far from her visage. He wasn’t going to just leave. That was not him. That sort of thing would turn Alex into stone. So he was going to approach her. Either to be rejected, or welcomed. He didn’t have a choice anymore. Please let me in.

Alex watched as he foot stepped into the light, into the view of the desolate Isabel. With the sound of his foot hitting the road, her eyes lifted up to discover him. He saw her see him. He was exposed.

Isabel knew not to hide her tears. She needed someone to know her. She couldn’t stand being locked away like this. She wanted someone to open her and let her fly. Or maybe it was just Alex.

Alex looked down at Isabel with the utmost sincerity and care. And that was when Isabel realized that Alex loved her. He loved Isabel, he loved Izzie, and he loved the girl who was locked away.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Isabel said softly, almost a whisper.

“You don’t have to.” Alex said obligingly his eyes hopeful prospects.

Isabel looked down at her lap, where her hands entwined in themselves with intensity. They weaved between each other, slightly covered with a moist sheen. Alex gazed at the beauty and the sweetness of her. How she could be so nervous in front of little old Alex. The way that she somehow looked so young and pure, untouched by any evil till now. He yearned to just reach out and touch her cheek. To skim the soft skin and feel it running beneath his fingers giving him the chills. How many times had he fantasized about running his hands through her long golden hair?

Isabel’s baby blues found themselves in the depths of the sapphire pools of Alex’s eyes. She took in a shallow breath of air. It was beginning to get hard to breathe. Alex’s hand gently stroked her cheek. His hands were so soft. She felt a lonely tear escape from her eye. Alex smoothed it away, with such care that Isabel had never experienced in her life. Slowly but surely, she felt their bodies drawing closer, and closer, and closer. Isabel could feel his heat radiating off to her. Their faces touched gently, and their lips came together in a genuine kiss. They felt all the warmth in the world surge through their bodies, like blood. There on the plain old bench by the park, bathed in a golden light from the proud streetlight, across from the Mom and Pop shops, sat two people, who loved each other beyond love. They could shake the world together. That momentous kiss, beyond any prices any human could conger would be etched in their memories for beyond forever.

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