Snapshot · (Roswell Fanfiction) · √

57. The Morning After

Wisconsin, December 26th
(2004) Max is 19, Liz is 18

"Liiiiz! Huuurry up!"

Michael turned to Max with a patent irritated look. "Be grateful you don't have a sister, man."

Focusing on pushing a suitcase into the boot of the car, Michael grumbled under his breath, "Why do they need so much time in the bathroom anyway?"

Max looked over at the open front door, his heart skipping oddly in his chest as he waited to see Liz appear. He couldn't deny that he was quite relieved about her tardiness, but with every ticking second his agitation also grew. In those twenty minutes that the boys waited for Liz, Max managed to imagine every single possible scenario about how Liz would act when she came face to face with him.

He felt his heart hammer to a stop as she appeared in the doorway, her head bent and her wet hair shielding her face from him.

"Sorry," she mumbled to her brother and hurried into the car.

Michael frowned. "What the hell...?"

Max felt his heart disconnect from its position in his chest and plummet. He could feel Michael's eyes on him.

"What's up with her?"

Mustering up a casual expression, Max managed to get his paralyzed body to produce a shrug. "I haven't got the faintest idea..."

"Fine," Michael sighed and crammed the last bag into the trunk. "Let's get this show on the road."

Max made his way over to the driver's seat, trying to inconspicuously get a glimpse of Liz while he passed the backseat window.

His hand was shaking as he pulled the door open and his emotions twisted up even more as he entered the suffocating atmosphere inside the car.

"Did you sleep okay?"

He almost kicked himself as the words left his mouth. Did you sleep okay? What the hell kind of question was that? It would give him about as much information as asking her if the earth was round would. There were a million questions clogging up his mind right now. And 'Did you sleep okay?' was certainly not one of them.

Are you okay?

Why did you leave?

Was that it?

Are we just going back to being friends now?

Was I too rough?

Are you in pain?

Do you love me?

But he couldn't ask her that. He couldn't. Even if Michael hadn't been there, about to step into the car at any second, it was clear from Liz's body language that she wouldn't give him the answers he so desperately needed right now.

"Yeah," she answered quietly and he couldn't help but watch her face intently in the rearview window. Wanting to get a glimpse of something. Something that would answer any of the questions he had.

But her face was carefully hidden from his probing eyes; seemingly intent on checking her phone for messages.

They both jumped as Michael tore the door open.

"Fuck," he mumbled. "Next time, we're taking my car. I could barely fit all of our crap in the back."

Suddenly mauled by the tension in the car, Michael looked to the back of the car, to the mere shadow of his sister. "And what the fuck is up with you?"

Reacting to Michael's harsh and irritated tone of voice, Max practically snapped, "Leave her alone."

Michael frowned. "Eh...okay? What...?"