The Rebel

FIVE

"I'm thinking I should go through a wormhole and back," Maria told Liz as they drove to the Crashdown Cafe for their afternoon shift.

"Why?" Liz asked. She reached over and pulled the wheel a little to the right. Maria had the tendency to let the car drift into the wrong lane when she got caught up in what she was saying.

"Because did you see how great Alex looked?" Maria asked. "Shampoo-commercial hair, soap-commercial skin. He even seemed a little more muscle-y or something. And Michael's brother? He could be on a billboard. I wouldn't mind seeing him a hundred feet tall."

Liz made another small adjustment to the wheel. "If we ever figure out how to open a wormhole ourselves, we can start a spa. The Wormhole Ranch, specializing in space travel facials. You could give aromatherapy sessions, too."

"Maybe," Maria said. "Although I wouldn't mind keeping the wormhole as my personal beauty secret. And yours, I guess." She snorted as she pulled into the Crashdown's parking lot. "Like you need it. Look at you. It's no wonder you ended up with the perfect boyfriend."

My amazing boyfriend who practically goes into a coma while we're kissing, Liz thought, climbing out of the car. "Well, Michael's brother is up for grabs," she commented.

"Yeah, if I can't have the real thing, why not take the fat-free version?" Maria joked. They headed toward the restaurant.

"Next time I see Michael, I'm telling him you think he's fat," Liz teased. She pushed open the door, and the first few bars of the Close Encounters theme played. But the sound was almost obscured by the music coming out of her papa's office.

"Oh no." Maria gasped. "That's The Doors, isn't it? Are we late?"

Liz checked her watch. "Not late enough." Her papa only played The Doors when he was in a heinously bad mood. So whatever had his boxers in a bunch was big.

Before she and Maria were halfway to the counter, her papa burst out of his office. No, not big, she realized when she saw his face. Make that enormous. Make that nuclear.

You'd think that a guy who walked around in Grateful Dead T-shirts with his hair in a ponytail would be laid-back. But no. Liz's father had a quick temper-and he wasn't afraid to show it.

"Your mother came in for lunch today," Mr. Ortecho told Maria as she and Liz headed toward the storage room in back that doubled as a changing room.

"Uh, that's nice," Maria said nervously. She stopped in front of him, shifting from one foot to the other.

Liz wondered if Maria was nervous because the throbbing vein in her papa's temple looked like it was about to erupt or if she was nervous because she'd figured out the same thing Liz had-Liz's father had found out that their weekend trip to the Carlsbad Caverns had been completely adult-free.

Mr. Ortecho took a step toward Maria. Maria backed a step away.

"She said it was so nice of me to take you two and your friends to the Caverns," he continued.

I got it in one, Liz thought. What am I going to say to him? It's not like I can say that I absolutely had to go to the Caverns to try and bring Alex back home from another planet.

"Which means you both lied to me and to her," Mr. Ortecho said.

"We really needed to-" Maria began, taking another step back.

"Enough," Mr. Ortecho barked. "There's no excuse for what you did, and I don't want to listen to you try to come up with one." He turned his full attention on Liz, his eyes glittering dangerously. "What I want to know is what else you've been lying about."

Liz glanced behind her at the dining room. At least the only customer was Mr. Orndorff, and he probably had his hearing aid turned off.

"Nothing," Liz promised him. It wasn't completely true, but it was mainly true. Yes, there had been other nights that she'd had to lie about where she'd been, like the night they drove to Albuquerque to get Isabel and Adam away from DuPris. But she'd never been doing any of the things she knew her papa was worried about her doing-like drinking, like drugs, like following in her sister Rosa's footsteps.

"And I'm supposed to believe this? I'm supposed to believe that I just happened to find out about the one lie you've ever told me?" Her papa's brown eyes seemed to turn darker as he spoke, darker and colder.

Liz felt something harden inside her. She straightened her spine and met her father's gaze without flinching.

"You're supposed to trust me," she answered.

He shot out one hand, grabbed her arm, and flipped it over. He studied it briefly, then checked the other one.

Needle marks. That was what he was looking for.

Liz felt like her heart had started pumping ice water instead of blood, coldness traveling down her arms and legs, up her neck and into her face.

"I have to change." She pushed her way past her papa, Maria scurrying behind her.

"I'm not through with you," he insisted.

"I have to change," Liz repeated, without turning around. If she looked at him right now, she was afraid she might hate him for the rest of her life.

"Fine. Go change," he called after her. "But from now on you're at school or here or home. No exceptions. If you need to go to the library, your mama or I will go with you."

Liz ducked into the changing room and sank down on one of the spindly chairs. She didn't think her legs would have held her up another second. Too cold.

Maria shut the door behind them, blocking out the curious, sympathetic looks from the other employees.

"You okay?"

Liz shook her head. "You know he was checking for track marks, right?"

"Yeah," Maria said softly. "Liz, you know he's just afraid because of what-"

"Because of what happened to Rosa. Because she overdosed and he feels like it's his fault for not seeing it coming," Liz finished in a singsong voice. "But you know what, Maria? I'm not my sister. And I've spent half my life trying to prove that to him and Mama."

She felt a deep, shuddering sob build up inside her, but she wasn't going to let herself cry. Not now. Not where he could hear her.

Maria sat down next to Liz and nudged her with her shoulder. "You ever think of saying to your dad what you just said to me?"

"Are you kidding?" Liz pressed her hands between her knees, trying to get her fingers warm. It didn't help. "How could I when no one in my house ever says the name Rosa? We don't even have any pictures of her anywhere. Not in the albums, not on the fridge, not in the hall. They all disappeared the day after she died. I don't know where they are. I've looked for them a bunch of times, but-"

A sharp knock on the door interrupted her. "Are you two working today, or should I be giving Evie and Jose overtime?" Liz's papa demanded.

"One minute," Maria called back. She jumped up and pulled her uniform down from the little clothes rack. Then she grabbed Liz's and held it out to her.

Liz just stared at it.

Maria gave it a shake. "Please? For me?"

"You know what I just realized?" Liz asked. "He's my father. We live in the same house. I work at his restaurant. And he doesn't even know me."

"I want to know all about you," Michael told Trevor. It came out sounding a lot dorkier than it had in his mind. He was just stupid with happiness right now. He actually had a brother!

"Like what?" Trevor asked. His head swiveled back and forth as they walked down Roswell's main street. He obviously wanted to see everything.

"Like the Kindred. Is it all people who wanted the right to have more than one birthing cycle?" Michael asked.

"Some of them are," Trevor answered. "But they aren't the only ones who have to go into hiding to live the kind of life they choose."

"Really?" Michael had always pictured his home planet as this totally perfect place, a place where Michael would have this totally perfect life if he could just find his parents' ship and get there.

He realized now that was totally childish. Why would earth be the only planet in the universe where things were messed up?

"That kind of looks like your friend Alex," Trevor said, pointing at the plastic Ronald in front of McDonald's.

Alex again. This was about the fifth time Trevor had brought up Alex today.

Michael gave the plastic Ronald a fast look. "Maybe the hair, a little. Why else do people join the Kindred?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"Some because-"

Trevor was interrupted by the toot of a car horn. Michael glanced over and saw Mrs. Pascal hanging out the window. "Michael, I want you to come over for dinner some night. We miss you. And I know Dylan would love to see you."

"Okay, I will," he called back. And he actually meant it. Mrs. Pascal seemed much less annoying when he didn't have to live with her.

"Who was that?" Trevor asked after Mrs. Pascal had driven on.

"She was one of my foster moms," Michael answered.

"How many did you have?" Trevor stopped in front of the car wash and studied the painting of a cat that was getting its spaceship polished up. "That thing could never fly," he said.

"That thing could never fly it," Michael said, nodding toward the cat.

"So how many foster moms?" Trevor asked as they continued down the street.

"Too many. I tried not to count," Michael admitted. "Did you stay with one family when you were with the Kindred?"

"No. I sort of belonged to everyone," Trevor said.

Basically the opposite of me, Michael thought. He hadn't belonged to anyone.

Michael felt a stab of disgust. Get over yourself. Like Trevor had it easy. His parents told him they would come back for him, and then he never saw them again.

"I bet Alex's parents were concerned when he disappeared," Trevor commented.

And we're back to Alex again, Michael thought. "They were completely freaked."

"There were definitely people on our planet who were concerned when he arrived." Trevor shoved his fingers through his hair, and Michael was struck by the fact that his hands and Trevors were almost exactly the same shape and size. He wondered if that meant he and Trevor would look sort of alike in all their bodies' adaptive forms.

"Max kept trying to send the beings of the consciousness info about Alex to try to keep the freaking to a minimum," Michael said.

"What kind of stuff?" Trevor asked.

"Like how Alex helped save our butts when Sheriff Valenti, the Clean Slate agent I told you about, was zeroing in on me and Max and Isabel," Michael answered. "And how he sat with Isabel practically every second for days after the sheriff killed her boyfriend."

"Alex sounds like a good guy," Trevor commented.

"The best," Michael answered. He noticed that his mouth felt really watery, and he laughed. "I start salivating as soon as I get on this block," he told Trevor. "Come on. It's way past time for you to have your first cruller."

Michael led the way into the doughnut shop and ordered four crullers. He shoved two of them at Trevor after they sat down at one of the little tables in the back. Trevor picked one up and started to take a bite.

"Wait! Not like that!" Michael exclaimed. He jerked Trevor's hand away from his mouth. "You've got to have hot sauce," he explained. He pulled out a handful of packets from his pocket, then he ripped a couple open and squirted them on Trevor's cruller. "Okay, now you can eat it."

Michael watched Trevor as he chewed. He smiled when he saw the awe appear on Trevor's face. "Good?"

"Amazing. Fantastic. Phenomenal," Trevor answered.

"I guess we must have the same taste buds," Michael said. He felt the little pop of pleasure he got every time he discovered a similarity between him and Trevor.

"Definitely," Trevor mumbled, his mouth full with a massive bite of cruller. "I guess Alex wouldn't go for this combo, huh?"

What's with all the questions about Alex? Michael wondered. He gave a mental shrug. He really didn't care what they talked about. He was hanging out with his brother.