Title: The Greatest Stories Never Told

By: Nicole Anell

Rating: PG-13 (can't even get through the disclaimer without gratuitous cussin')

Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell. And screw everyone who does. Nyah!

Disclaimer Part 2: Without many wonderful writers and producers, this show would not exist and I wouldn't have this website. Thank you, Katims and co, for your brilliance. Disclaimer Part 3: Brilliance?? You're kidding, right? Disclaimer Part 4: Shut up, I'm trying to cover my ass.

Spoilers: all season two

Part One:

Your Eyes (Tess)

The stars are watching me.

I'm disrupting the universe, ripping through their home, destroying their space. I'm going home no matter what they say.

Well, I know stars can't actually *say* anything. They don't talk, they just look. And the stars are watching me with blue eyes.

His. Sad and confused.

Why did you do it, Tess?

Well, look at that. They have something to say after all.

The baby moves and I'm tired. But if I sleep, the eyes are there. Sometimes I wake up and expect them to stay.

Or if not eyes, then maybe a smile, a hand, a kiss. A voice to answer me just once.

Alex.

I want him to go away, stop haunting me. I want him to stay and not ever leave again. I'm feeling my hybrid-ness today.

The closer I get to the stars, they become suns, and they burn.

They burn with his eyes. Not with intention or violence or accusation, which I saw enough of in my last hours on Earth. They burn with comfort and warmth and hope. And love.

But they still ask the same questions they can't understand the answers to, any more than the stars know why I'm here in space instead of on the ground obeying the laws of gravity.

Why did you do it, Tess? they ask.

Why did you lie to them?

Part Two:

The Omen (Alex)

It's hard to tell a story when everyone knows the ending, or they think they do. Now we have to rewind ourselves all the way back to the Spring of 2000. Everyone hum "Girl" by Papas Fritas.... okay, fine, hum "All Star" by Smashmouth. There we go. It's like you've stepped into a time machine.

It's a warm, lovely day. I'm sitting in the Quad at W. Roswell High with Isabel Evans. Everybody hold your applause, she's not my girlfriend yet. We kissed exactly once. Life went on.

Just then, I get my very first glimpse of Tess. She's just like one of those small, perky girls you see on sitcoms. She interrupts and giggles and babbles in sex euphemisms and pop culture references. So my first general impression is:

What the hell is wrong with her and why is she sitting here and can she please go away so I can keep basking in the glory of Isabel?

Okay, that's three first impressions shoved together.

The point is, she does not go away and soon she and Isabel become friends. I'm the odd man out.

I do not understand girls. And this was just the beginning, the real omen didn't come yet. Jump ahead a day or two to the Crashdown. Again, there's me and Isabel, making some progress. And again, there's Tess getting in the way.

Within two minutes, she's playing with Isabel's hair. The two of them are in their own little world. I excuse myself, I go outside, and I am nearly kidnapped by evil government agents.

I should have known right then.

I'm smart, I've got a 3.8 average, I almost scored record high for my school on the P-SATs. I should I known then. I should have figured it out.

Maybe I'm not being all that fair. I know I can't blame anybody for that incident. Suppose Valenti hadn't shown up, and I had gotten dragged off to some military base to be electroshocked into submission. That wouldn't have been entirely Tess's fault.

But see, that was the omen. That was the moment a tiny Alex should have appeared on my shoulder, or a lightbulb should have flashed over my head. *STAY AWAY FROM TESS*

Do I listen? Of course not.

Move ahead a little in time. (Try humming "All the Small Things" by Blink) Everything went screwy after she came to town. For one thing, Isabel threw herself at me in the eraser room and then said she wasn't ready for a relationship. Once again, not entirely Tess's fault but a bad sign.

I do not understand alien girls.

Then there was a lot of junk about shapeshifting and handprints, and our pod squad of three become the Royal Four. By now it's summer and I'm getting pretty sick of it all. I'm especially sick of a certain little person who started all this when she shoved her way into our conversation one day.

I like to glare at Tess when she's not looking.

"Isabel, I really think you should come with me and Michael to practice your powers some time..."

Glare.

"Do you think you could maybe get Max to come see me, because there was..."

Glare.

"Hi Alex."

Glare. I mean, "Hi." I mean, why the hell is she talking to me?

"Have you seen Isabel?" Oh.

"I have not," I say.

"Is that a poster for your band?"

I say, "Yeah it is." I imagine saying, "Iz isn't coming so stop stalling."

She looks at the poster again, and looks at me, and asks, "So this is like a show?"

It is not 'like' a show. It is a show. It happens to be a show for a friend of Ronny the Lead Guitar's dad, and we're getting $20 each to play four songs while he sells raffle tickets and promotes his new store. But it's still a show. So I say, "Uh huh."

And she looks at the poster again, and back at me, and back at the poster.

Glare. Friendly nod. Glare.

"Maybe I'll come if I'm not busy. This town bites."

She leaves and she doesn't even ask me to give a message to Isabel.

I will never understand alien girls.

Part Three:

Alt-Rock and Tylenol (Tess)

Why was I put on this Earth? Oh, I remember, to hang around Roswell and slowly die of boredom while the members of my alien family gaze longingly at whiny humans.

I went to see Alex's show. *Someone* had to.

New Mexico is hot and dry, and I'm watching the singer - Wendy something - as she fails to enunciate. Pageboy haircut, plastic red skirt, yellow striped leggings, dark square-shaped glasses, no makeup except for atrociously loud lipstick - the girl actually puts Maria to shame. She's the type who *tries* to look like a geek because it makes her "cool". It doesn't work at all.

I hate this town.

Nasedo called again... it was this morning I think, or maybe the day before. He only calls His Royal Highness, but occasionally he says "say hello to Tess", so Max has to go through the agony of dialing my number to mumble his greeting. Or calling Michael and passing it on through him. Or not telling me at all until we bump into each other a week later, and he blurts it out to fill the awkward silence.

Nasedo said hi. Nothing else.

Asshole.

Where was I? The Whits play two songs and take a break. You can see just how professional this gig is.

Alex gets off the stage and scans the crowd. He's doing this because he saw me in the audience, and he sees me now, and he's hoping I'm not the only one he knows here. Dream on, honey. Your real friends couldn't care less about this stuff anymore. I'm the only masochist around. (If you want the less nasty truth, they didn't suck that badly. Being here's a lot better than being stuck at home alone, which is why I haven't left yet.)

Finally, Wonderboy comes over with a big fake smile. I wonder why he's not giving me dirty looks again.

"Have you seen Isabel?" Ohhhh.

I say, "Nope."

"Is anybody here with you?" he says because he's subtle.

"They'd all prefer to gauge their eyes out with rusty nails tonight," I say because I'm not subtle at all.

He gives me a weird look. He thinks that was directed at him, so I add, "I liked that song."

"Which one?"

"The one you played twice."

I think I'm trying to piss him off, but he realizes I'm kidding and smiles. "Well, stick around. We do it again in - " he checks his watch - "eight minutes."

He sort of looks like a puppy when he smiles. I really don't mean that in a bad way.

He finds something else to do for eight minutes, and then some more identical-but-not-terrible music is played. I talked to Nasedo all of once since May, when I asked him too many questions and he told me to wait. I said "say hello to Max" before I hung up. I think I was trying to piss him off too.

The not-a-show ends and I didn't win the raffle, so I head for the exit.

"Have you seen her at all?"

I jump and then blush. I don't like people sneaking up on me.

"'Cause I haven't for a week or two now," Alex continues. He's carrying his bass in an uncomfortable-looking position that lets me know he came running after me. "I just thought maybe..."

He trails off. I think I feel sorry for him. "I'm not the person to ask."

He swallows and nods. I guess the great Isabel Evans isn't too big on company from either of us right now. At least he's still got some of his friends.

"Well, thanks for coming I guess."

"It was okay. The squeaky noises from the mike-"

"Feedback."

"They gave me a headache."

"Sorry. You shouldn't have sat so close."

"Is this your girlfriend?" someone asks. It's Wendy Looks-Like-a-Geek, who came out of nowhere.

"Not exactly," says Alex. Exactly?

Wendy looks me up and down. This is the clothing you'd look better in, I try to send her, but she doesn't seem to hear. "Uh-huh. Is she coming for sundaes?"

There's a phrase for how Alex looks - "deer caught in the headlights".

"I have a headache," I explain.

"Give me a break," says Wendy Won't-Let-This-Go, "It'll be fun."

A Tylenol later, I'm at the Crashdown. Liz Parker is on vacation. Michael and Maria are off duty. Alex is not glaring. Wendy Still-Thinks-I'm-Dating-Him is less annoying than she seemed onstage. Overall, it's surprisingly much better than being stuck at home alone.

Eventually, the band members start talking softer amongst themselves and leaving, leaving with their friends or their dates or - the lamer ones - their parents. Alex and I are alone, of course.

We start talking softer and haltingly about other things. I figure we shared a prescription drug, so we've bonded sufficiently. I want to know about things that happened before I came, about people they contacted and all the stuff they found out. He's surprised I need to, because he didn't know about Nasedo's condescending ass and the 'wait' philosophy.

Things have a way of not turning out the way you thought they would. For example, I actually get some information from this time-killer. I get a story about an Indian cave with a map of symbols. No one ever thought to show it to me, yet even the band geek's been there.

They don't know what any of it means. There's a shock.

But Alex has this whole idea no one's ever given much thought to. If it's the alphabet of a real form of language, even an alien one, it wouldn't be impossible to translate. It's like ancient writings that don't look anything like English. Archeologists spend years working on them, but they solve them in the end. And now there are computers and all sorts of technology advances. So.

He tells me this and looks into my eyes for a minute. He laughs out of nowhere, the way people laugh when nobody said anything funny but you wish someone had.

I tell him I'm a screw-up because I'm supposed to look at a bunch of pictures in a book and remember things, and I can't sometimes. And I wonder how much longer I'm supposed to wait.

The thing you have to know is that this is all just talking. Talking in the summer when you don't have anything else to do. Skip ahead and we go home and time keeps moving and nothing seems to change one bit.

Except when he leaves, he says, "Thanks for listening."

He adds, "I mean to my band," even though we both know that's not what he meant.

Part Four:

I Continue to Demonstrate What a Fabulous Guy I Am, Particularly In a Crisis (Alex)

"Don't baby me," is the first thing she says.

She called me.

I don't think she had my number written down anywhere.

"Kyle," she says. "Kyle wants to treat me like this- this expensive glass object. I can't stay there tonight. 'Do you want this?' 'Do you need something?' I don't want that. I don't. Okay? Don't do that."

She picked up her phone and called my house at 11:00 PM. I can't get over that. I will never understand alien girls.

Maria called me first and told how beat-up she was, kind of an aside in a conversation about some new slutty waitress at the Crashdown and some "more Czechoslovakian shit I don't want to get into".

I don't know how Maria could have seen her broken, and I saw her fixed, and I'm the one of us who gives a damn.

She called me - Tess called me - and now she's on my front porch in the dark, shaking and saying something about this town and Max and Nasedo. "I'm so tired of waiting" - she says that more than once. "I'm so tired of..."

What is wrong with her and why is she sitting here and what can I do? That's my three impressions shoved together.

"I've never seen you talk this much." I say. Don't ask me why those are my comfort words. I'm at a loss. Really, I have seen her talk this much. What I meant was "this fast" and "this loud", but my mental thesaurus never kicks in on time.

She says something else about Nasedo, and I fidget because I never did give her my sympathies when he died. Then comes something barely-intelligible about Kyle who she doesn't want and Max and Michael and oh God, she's a mess.

And then she freezes, gives me this trembling smirk and says, "It's just - they all went right to the birthday girl." The way her voice strains physically hurts me and I need to breathe deeply before I can say anything.

Do you know what I say then?

I say, "Tess, do you think we could have this chat sometime when I'm not still wearing a thong?"

So she laughs. She actually laughs, suddenly and perfectly and totally lacking bitterness. It lasts for around three seconds. Alex Whitman, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you and goodnight.

Part Five:

Signs and Wonders (Tess)

The thing you have to know is it was all just talking. At least until around November.

And yeah, I calmed down a little. I was on the verge of leaving Roswell and a number of developments convinced me to stay. That's all I'm saying about that. It's Autumn and we're at a point where my life is almost not a total hell.

Almost.

Whatever you want to call those freaks who showed up - 'Dupes', that's what Max settled on - I really thought we had a chance with them. If they had been a little smarter and less conniving, something could have worked out.

It's Autumn and I'm hiding in a corner of the UFO center. I'm hiding because I desperately want to avoid these people who look like me as a Jerry Springer guest. Alex walks by with an uncertain look on his face and two sodas in his hand. "Wanna split?"

I have the sinking feeling those sodas weren't intended for me, but I say "Sure."

"This is pretty weird for you, huh?"

"That's an understatement."

He taps his hand like he does when he's giddy/nervous and waiting to say something. His second cousin Ray in Utah emailed him last week, he says, about some supercomputer he heard about at the University of New Mexico. The attached note said "b/c ur into this science stuff right?". None of that matters much to me right now.

"I think I'm going to New York," I say, playing with a book in my hands. (I naively believe that trip is going to get me answers.)

Alex responds with a story about how he applied to be a foreign exchange student once, and he just got the letter that begins, "We regret to inform you," that yada yada yada there's someone more worthy than you to see the world. He hasn't told anyone yet because he's disappointed. None of that matters much to me right now either, and I'm getting annoyed because he seems to think it should.

"I think I might even go home," I start, deciding to ignore him. But then I look at my book again, since he's looking at it too, and I think over what's just been exchanged. "Why did you say that about the computer?"

"I was just thinking."

Right there was when it stopped being 'just talking'. Now there's thinking. He's thinking. I'm thinking. The forces of nature are thinking. There's a crazy coincidence that his trip to Europe would have begun the exact same day I found myself utterly disillusioned with the Big Apple. See? Forces of nature led us to UNM and handed us fake names, as far as I'm concerned.

He sends Liz and Maria emails that can't be traced. He looks giddy/nervous a lot, and I try to imagine what it's like to be Alex. I'm so used to lying it's almost passé, a way of life, but this is pretty interesting for him.

I go there in the dark. I use my powers on security, and tap on the glass door of the building where all the lights are on. Alex lets me in, and sometimes he tells me he actually missed me since yesterday, or Wednesday, or whenever I last came. Later the mileage on my car gets fixed with a wave of my hand, and no one asks questions. The Valentis have established a no-panicking-unless-someone's-been-gone-a-good-18-hours policy, and nobody else cares much where I am as long as I'm not bothering or hitting on them. Isn't that all so perfect? It kills me.

He calls the little situation we have here "Das Cruces".

I'm getting to like this kid quite a bit, which is a little scary. I told you I don't like people sneaking up on me.

We mesh. You know, we work together pretty well. He feeds who-knows-what into the machine and I sit there trying to analyze what comes out, or remember something that could help. The thing you have to know is that this is all just talking and thinking and working. At least until January.

What happens in January screws up everything completely, but you don't get the story if I don't tell you, so let's get on with it. It wasn't unusual in the beginning for one of us to get stuck or frustrated, and then the other would sort of calm that one down. But by winter, the time for this whole foreign-exchange perfect plan we had going is almost up, so we're *both* lost and irritated and non-calm. We're giving up, which I hate to do, and I think he hates it too.

So there I am, lost and irritated and non-calm, and we're having a little fight when I *accidentally* hit him in the ear with my bag. He yells, "OW!" I feel like an idiot, apologize, put my bag down, try to touch him-

Instant connection.

Don't ask me to explain it, because I don't know. Something happened and we saw each other on the inside.

On the inside, Alex is a living, breathing tribute to everything good in the world. I am aware of how dumb that sounds, but I'm not the best at saying romantic things. Sue me.

When it ends, he's looking at me with those eyes - the sad, loving ones that burn me later - the same ones. "You felt that too, right?" he whispers. Yes. The next thing I know, we're kissing.

"I saw something," he says when he catches his breath. "You - and you were - younger - and then - I saw these - I don't know - " It's funnny to transcribe makeout conversation. I'd give you my half too, but it goes more like "Mmmm. Mm. Really-mmm?"

More connections, not forced at all. This is weird and different for me. Alex playing checkers with his dad. Having ice cream with Liz and Maria. Dancing with Isabel in a red dress I've never seen. On his porch with me.

11100100100111011001.

Um, okay.

"Numbers," I say between "mmm"s. He's off mumbling about moons and red oceans, but he stops to politely ask me what kind of numbers.

I tell him ohs and ones, which nearly gives him a heart attack. "Ohs and ones," he repeats and then he starts grinning, and - I think - tries to pick me up to spin me around, but he's not all that strong. I remember something he said about alien-human flashes and I wonder on so many levels why we never tried this before.

The computer whirs it's mechanical heart out for 10 minutes, and finally says You are the Royal Four.

Holy fuck.

That's the last thing I see because we're kissing again.

Part Six:

Romance, Adventure, Other Groovy Stuff (Alex)

You may be wondering how I felt about all this.

"How did Alex feel?" you're asking, because you know how it ends or you think you do. Well, I'll tell you how I felt. This is the sappy and cute part, and I want to torture you.

To recap: I just missed 6 weeks of school, minus Winter break. I got to be closer to something so life-altering and important most people can't even know it exists. I got Tess.

I feel pretty darn good.

Liz and Maria hug me and smile and I missed them. I didn't expect everyone to be so happy when I got back. But I also didn't expect to lose my virginity the night I discovered a key to alien existence, while my friends and family thought I was an ocean away. Life is full of surprises like that.

Yeah, that's right, virginity. Now ask me again how I feel.

Not that I'm shallow or anything. This is not about sex. Get your minds out of the gutter....

Okay, it's slightly about sex. But if you knew what's going on in Tess Harding's head, you would understand the deep spiritual connection between us. Of course you wouldn't see what's going on in her head, but I can. Hence the "deep spiritual connection". We're open around each other and honest. We rub off on each other. I mean, look at her. Take a second and look at her. It's winter-turning-spring, and she's become this light of happiness on everybody. She's funny, she's free-spirited, she's beautiful, and it's not even that she's changed. She's always been those things, but something happened that made them all come out.

I think I changed the same way, and other people notice it. I'm still me, but the suave version of me. I didn't even know he existed.

Liz said even Isabel's interest was piqued. I say, well, Isabel's nice and all, but... Liz looks like she's going to faint.

I'm such a hip badass version of me. That version was always in there somewhere but never had a reason to show itself before.

The down side is that we can't exactly tell anyone yet. If we tell, first Liz and Maria will go nuts and assume she's manipulating and using me. Then Isabel and Kyle will have their feelings hurt a little. Then Michael and Valenti... well, Michael and Valenti will say something to the effect of "Mazel tov" and move on, but that's not the point.

Max will assume this relieves him of his marriage duties, which by his logic would relieve him of all the other King stuff he should be doing. Max can have an odd grasp of logic like that.

So we're doing a lot of sneaking around and it's all very Romeo and Juliet, except the leads are the rejects. Rosaline and Paris. Yeah. Read the play again.

In March, we go to Vegas. Okay, so "we" is "everyone", and the "we" that's "me and Tess" sort of gets split up for a few hours. But do you know what deep connected spirits are? Two people that can accidentally find each other in Las Vegas. Most people can't even find each other on purpose in those hotels.

When I tap her on the shoulder in the lobby, she flinches and then grins. "Do you mind? *Some* people are trying to mindwarp around here."

I absolutely love her.

"What happened? Caused a disturbance, can't get back in? Just hide behind me. Nobody will even see you, we'll fit you under a table."

I love Hip Badass Me.

"Not funny," she says through her teeth. "Remind me why I hang out with you losers?"

"You're one of us, one of us," I hiss in my creepy voice, which sounds more like a coughing munchkin than anything else. She closes her eyes and fights a losing battle against smiling.

Screw appearances, we're a couple. Tess & Alex. T & A.

Ha ha. Shut up.

"I didn't mean you," she says, "Do you know where I've been all day?"

"I lost all my money in the span of three seconds. Then I got to be inside a strip club without seeing any actual nudity, got kicked out of the newly designated Fool Around With a Stranger Zone that is our hotel suite, and turned down an invitation to see a couple of my friends fistfight in jail. Worse than that?"

She takes it all in. "I think I broke some kind of Pacman record against an eleven-year-old."

"Where'd you get that dress?"

"Oh, this old thing?" she giggles. "There was a little card with my name on it in the room. I didn't see anyone fooling around in there."

Oh right. Maria said she got us clothes. "What does mine look like?"

She offers to forget the casino and show me. I'm the only guy here without a normal tuxedo. She holds it against my chest and says it's the look where you try to be a geek but it'll work on me, or something like that.

She also kinda helps me change, but I swear to God it's not about sex. Most of the time.

Hell, she bought me a camera. Really. She says she wanted a throw-away one, but then she remembered she had a few grand on her so she got the real thing. State-of-the-art, power zoom, auto exposure control, built-in flash. It was a present. Granted, it was a present bought with someone else's money, which she points out every time I thank her, but I still spend a lot of time in the hotel room just taking pictures of us-

Minds out of the gutter!

Later, we go down to the nice restaurant, and I'm being suave and she's being a light of happiness, and we're kicking each other under the table. Maria finally gets to sing, and Tess says, "We're dancing."

Except she says it to Kyle.

Whatever.

Part Seven:

Better Homes and Gardens (Tess)

Things have a way of not turning out the way you thought they would.

I love Alex. I don't say things like that, but that doesn't make them untrue. We're going to tell people really soon.

No we're not.

Max came into my room last night and told me he remembered me. What does that mean?

It means - Yay! Or it means - Crap.

It might mean both.

This part of me with Alex, it isn't all of who I am. It's who Tess, 17 years old, born and raised on planet Earth, is. I'm her. And I'm also Queen Ava, of another galaxy, who tells me where I belong every single night in my dreams.

Why does he have to remember me? Why do I have to like that so much? Why can't I have a conversation without my brain going off on a different track? Like this:

Alex says, "Have you ever heard of Beth Orton?"

Max remembers me.

I say, "Beth who?"

Max knows me.

Alex says, "Is something wrong?"

I say, "Huh?"

"Something on your mind?" He knows. He knows I'm on another planet right now... He just doesn't know how literally.

I say, "Nothing that important." He sighs and starts talking again, and I try to pay attention. Beth Orton. Modern singer-songwriter. Concert coming to Roswell, tickets going on sale soon. I say, "She can't have a very good agent."

He says, "Hey, do you want to hear your song?"

He's writing me a song. He's writing a song and calling it 'Tess' and it's my song.

I'm cheating. Who am I cheating on? Tess is not being nice to her boyfriend, Ava is cheating on her husband.

I want to go home. I think. No, I want Alex. No.

He stops playing because he knows I'm upset, but I pull away from him and say I'm just feeling my hybrid-ness today. He doesn't know what that means. I don't tell him.

Part Eight:

'The Ultimate Four-Letter Word' (Alex)

Spring of 2001: this is about as far as it goes. Hum something by Destiny's Child. That's as far as I got.

Everything feels very normal, because life is all about the present. If life were about the future, you would feel the week you're going to die. It would probably be interesting. As it is, the week you're going to die is average, and nothing seems at all different from the week before.

I'm practicing a song on my guitar.

It's called 'Love Kills' or 'Hurt By Love'. To be honest, I can't tell them apart myself. I used to know because I co-wrote them and all, but after a while they kind of blurred into this one single song. Hurt By Love That Happens To Kill As Well. Something like that.

Tess is going to the Prom with Kyle. Kyle who used to stand around in Junior High and let his buddies push past me, so all my books would scatter on the floor. Kyle who never ever helped me pick them up.

I. Will. NEVER. Understand. Alien girls.

Kyle came this close a few weeks ago to being my friend. At least he managed to separate himself in my mind from all his other friends, a feat no other athlete has duplicated. I never liked him when he was dating Liz, but I was starting to think I was really wrong about that, too judgemental. A lot of hidden coolness in that guy.

Of course, Tess is going to the Prom with him now, so screw all that.

Jealousy is a sickness. Everybody has a different way of dealing with it. Some whine, some go out and murder people, it's all very personal. I like to make mental lists when I'm jealous. Comparisons, statistics, etc.

Kyle Valenti is a physical person. I am a mental person.

He says things. I listen.

He is a jock. I am... I am not.

He is a supposed Buddhist. Again, I'm not.

He lives with Tess. I so do not.

For all I know, Tess is thinking about him. I'm sure she's not thinking about me anymore.

This is the really important one: He is a boyfriend. I am a Good Friend. Always always always.

So I'm practicing a song on my guitar, and I don't know which one it is, and suddenly Isabel is coming into my bedroom. Into my *bedroom*. Can you imagine if I was still lusting after her?

She hints and hints about the Prom, like she did earlier in school before I got the terrific news about Tess and Kyle. She finally stops hinting and gives me this hopeful, pleading look. Ask me, ask me, ask me.

I never thought this day would come. Not in my wildest, weirdest dreams. I say, "Isabel Evans, go to the prom with me?"

Given the choice, Fallback Ex-boyfriend beats Good Friend any day.

I pick Isabel up in my normal, not Maria-picked suit. I'd forgotten how gorgeous she is. It almost surprises me when I take a good look at her. I also forgot that she's bright and funny and sometimes really sensitive. She drapes her arm around mine and smiles.

I actually think for a minute that we can make it through the night like this. Just for one minute in the Crashdown, with Isabel next to me, and Tess shining just across the table, and Kyle someplace far far away by the counter.

I've become the Terrible Person version of me. I never knew he existed.

Towards the end of the night, Kyle pulls Tess into the eraser room. I didn't witness it, just kind of heard it around. It would bother me a lot more if I didn't have Isabel on my lips about 50 seconds later.

"I told you not to do that," I smile. I kiss her back. I hate Terrible Person Me.

It's not until the song ends that I overhear a little conversation by the snack table. Odd little occurance - Tess said some things once about forces of nature, but I think she was kidding... I'm not. Why should Isabel Evans want a soda at the very moment in time when about five other people are talking around the table? That very moment I become privy to some sound bytes from various members of the In Crowd:

"I swear, man. I wouldn't lie about something like this."

"Maybe it's a secret half-way thing, like the sheriff was banging someone on the side."

"You are so full of it."

"I swear, I just told you what I heard. He called her that, not as a joke or anything. It was one of those really intense, serious moments."

"They don't even look alike."

"They're both pretty short."

"Oh, no fucking way Kyle Valenti took his sister to the Prom."

His what?

I say, "His what?" Everyone looks at me. Then they all share one of those secret elitist looks together, before I move away. Such is my caste... Oh my God.

His sister?

His *sister*?

I probably look strange at this point. People should think I'm crazy, but I'm just unpopular enough for no one to care.

His sister!

If you knew the week you were going to die, you would pay more attention to the last moment you were really truly happy.

The next day I've got Isabel on the phone. Liz and Maria eavesdrop on my end of the conversation, and I realize I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

Well, I do know the name for it. Two-timing. I'm phone-flirting with Isabel, who I went out with last night, who's trying to convince me to go out again tonight. And all this time, all along, while my paranoia was running wild, the person who could be the actual love of my life was only hanging out with a practical relative.

So how do I get out of this without hurting anybody? And preferably without Tess finding out?

I lie on my bed and ponder all this. My girls are still here, and I realize this might be a good time to let them in on the little secret. I could really use the advice right now. Just as I open my mouth, Maria looks at Liz and me, and sighs.

"Okay," she says, adopting a suddenly professional tone. "So Max kissed Tess."

She says this the way you could say, "So yesterday the Dow dropped 40 points."

I deserve this, don't I?

Liz is not very happy with this topic. Maria wants to talk about it and what it means for our Star-Cross'd Lovers. I suddenly want to finish my homework and eat my takeout and lie down some more.

I don't deserve this at all. Max kissed Tess, and that's so much worse than Kyle it's not even funny.

My paranoia hasn't been running wild. It just got a little detoured before reaching the finish line. Wow. That's a good metaphor.

Maria and Liz finally leave, and I get my food, and it turns out I'm thinking out loud.

"Why does life have to be so wrong?"

I don't feel like making lists today. I feel like being metaphysical.

"Why does everything have to be such a lie?"

The delivery kid keeps staring at me, so I shut up and pay him. He leaves and I'm alone in my room. I see a picture on my desk and it's good old Leanna looking back at me. We kind of have a long-distance thing going. Except she only lives a few blocks away.

I strum my guitar and play 'Tess'.

And that's when I realize it's the same goddamn song I've been playing all along.

Part Nine:

Thick As Water (Tess)

What happens next screws everything up. Every. Single. Thing.

Alex comes over. I'm giving Kyle a little pre-birthday party because he's Kyle. He's out of the room when Alex comes, doesn't even know anyone's there.

((Bear with me a second 'cause I don't talk about this a lot. I don't know if I can do this.))

Okay, Alex comes over and he knows about the infamous kiss.

Not my fault.

We're upstairs in my room and he's getting all worked up over this. Can you imagine if I actually slept with Max or something? Jeez, everybody just has to be so uptight about relationships and love and-

Fine, I'm making excuses. But you know what? I have the right to be pissed off too. I wouldn't have even done that if he hadn't been practically humping Isabel on the dance floor. What a hypocrite. This is such a guy thing.

I hate him.

I say, "I hate you."

Alex says, "What?"

I say, "What do you want from me?"

Alex says, "You could be honest with me. You could tell me right now if what we have is- what, anything to you?"

Let's go over some facts - I'm with Max. He's with Isabel. Yeah, I'd say 'what we have' is pretty much nonexistent.

I hate him.

I say, "You bastard."

"What did I do? I gave you everything! You- you just took and left me with nothing."

Oh for God's sake. Granted, there's a way of thinking where I look like this horrible bitch who used him. Comparatively, I did get the better end of the deal. He knew that from day one, remember? I get my past, my planet, my home. He gets some stock reels of slides we swiped from the film department and a pretend girlfriend in the form of some gorgeous leggy blond he saw on campus. He gets a negotiable credit one day for sending us all back into space to never see him again. Is this news?

"Just calm down," I say. "You want me to be honest? I kissed Max and we might be together now." I shrug. "I don't know, it's complicated."

He flinches and swallows. "Are you happy with that?"

No.

I say, "Yeah. Listen, I appreciate everything, but I think you should go now. We're going to be fine. You know this is what was supposed to happen. If I remember right, we were helping it along about a month ago."

"It changed."

"Nothing changed."

"Maybe not for you!"

"Hey, this all was your idea, wasn't it? You were the one who planted all this crap in our conversations. 'Oh yeah, I've got this cousin, I've got this trip, I've got this AP computer class.' Don't you dare act like I hurt you when this was our thing! Not mine, ours! And if you have a problem, maybe you should have considered it before you decided to start this little adventure! Maybe if you weren't so busy thinking about Isabel then-

"What?!"

"It was always because of that, right? That's how it started? You thought she'd magically start liking you if you did us this huge favor. You never did anything that helped us, and you wanted to prove what a man you were to HER!"

"That's not true!"

Yes it is. Yes it is. C'mon, Alex, this is over. It would be so much easier for me if that were true.

I say, "Why else would you do this, huh? What possible reason could-"

"Because I wanted to be near you!"

Shit.

I say, "Shut up."

"Tess-"

"No, shut up."

"You were- that day you came to my house and- nobody ever thinks I can help-"

"Shut up."

"You were the only one who wanted to see me play, you were so- I didn't even know it was going to work, what we did. I- I thought it might, I just wanted-"

He's crying. I say, "Go home," and my voice cracks and I hate him.

"I'm sorry - I shouldn't have gone with - we could still - you're so - " Bawling conversation is like the polar-opposite unfunny version of makeout conversation.

"I hate you, go home."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

I realize Kyle's standing around looking at us and I say "Get out!" I think I'm crying. Asshole.

Max remembers me. That counts for something. If it doesn't, what does that make my whole life so far?

Alex says, "I have nothing."

So go home and hate me and find somebody else. This would be so much easier. Nothing has to get screwed up, nobody's feelings have to get hurt-

Alex says, "How could you do this to me?" And then

((I don't talk about this a whole lot, I don't know if I can do this.))

((Okay.))

((Okay.))

And then he squints a little and then a lot.

((Okay.))

And he kinda puts his palm up to his head and makes a weird noise.

((Let me just breathe for a second, I don't know if I can- Okay.))

And then he's dead.

The thing you have to know (from someone slightly older and wiser than I was at that specific moment) is what happened was sort of natural. As natural as something completely ridiculous and fucked-up can be.

Apparently something snapped inside Alex's brain. I don't really know what causes these things, I cheated on all my science tests. One could assume flashes or getting laid or spending a few months in front of a huge computer could have something to do with it... if one wanted to torture oneself for the rest of one's life. That could have nothing to do with it though. I know it happens very rarely to teenagers but it's not unheard of. Everything's fine and then a vessel pops and they just keel over, something like that.

But then, I don't really know any of this right now. So basically my brain is going You killed him, You killed him, You killed him. Or maybe that's Kyle.

I *can* get a little nuts and high-strung sometimes, you know? The last time I was really pissed off, an entire army of Skins burst into flames. This did happen. Do you blame me for jumping to conclusions?

So that's why Alex technically died in a car accident. If I had calmed down a little bit, maybe there could've been an autopsy and a report. Maybe they could've showed it wasn't a suicide or a murder. Maybe everybody could've felt a little better about themselves, and nobody - me or the Valentis or the Whitmans or Liz or Isabel or Max - would've gone so far off the deep end over it. But Alex technically died in a car accident, and if you live with regret it only makes everything worse.

It's all sort of like a dream afterwards. I go to the Crashdown and meet everybody there. They're so incredibly happy, even Kyle. Like nothing happened at all. But then Sheriff Valenti comes in and we go see the body on the stretcher and it wasn't a dream at all.

Max goes into the van. I keep thinking about when we brought Nasedo back the first time and I was happy because he was all I had then.

Please, Max. Please please please.

I wonder if he'll tell people I killed him when he wakes up. Or if he won't remember and he'll just go back to telling me he loves me, and then I'll say I love him too and I'm sorry I never said it before.

Max is taking his sweet time in there.

And I'll say I'd rather have you than Max anyway but it scares me, and I don't know if I'm that scared anymore, and I'm so sorry I made you feel bad, and I'm sorry I lied and said I hated you, and I'm sorry I killed you for a little while.

Max comes out of the van alone. A night ago I was kissing this boy, and now he's wearing Alex's blood.

I keep thinking about the second time when we couldn't bring back Nasedo, and I was all alone.

Isabel turns into a wreck. I say, "Max. Go after her."

This is where I shut down. It's not pretty, not pretty at all.

Part Ten:

Unchained Melody (Alex)

So here we are. I'm still narrating, which is sort of against the rules.

"Why is Alex still narrating?" you're asking.

You mean, "Thought you had an aneurysm, Alex. Thought you're supposed to be rotting somewhere."

Well, I'm not sure where I'm supposed to be. Just think of me as Patrick Swayze in that movie...

No, smartass, the other one. With Demi Moore and Whoopi- yeah, that one.

Boo.

Now I've got your attention. What do you want to know, the meaning of life? Sorry, I'm still not sure. I've got some theories.

Where do we go when we die? All around, I guess. Some places more than others. But I could be an exception.

There's weird little things about Patrick Swayze Me (Alex Whitman version 3.0, if you're counting). I don't yawn. Literally, I can't. It just never happens. I kinda miss yawning. It's one of the minor things you don't notice until they're gone.

What else can I tell you? Oh, I saw some of my funeral. That really sucked and was depressing. People say they daydream about what their funeral would be like - trust me, you don't want to know. When you die, you want fields of flowers and puppies and conversations with God or John Lennon. You do not want to be stuck in your hometown, even for a few minutes. It's not like you can do anything when you're there.

I mean, sometimes you think people see you. Like your dad or your neighbor's dog or someone who's asleep or a space satellite (I told you, all around). Maybe they do, but it's only for a little while. Most of the time you just want them to, like you want a lot of things. I want Isabel to stop crying and I want Liz to stop looking. I want Tess to stop hurting. You can't always get what you want - that's multiplied by a thousand when you're dead.

Ask me again why I'm still narrating...

Every time I have a chance to say something, I'm afraid it will be my last. Someone will figure out the time/space continuim or the afterlife or whatever got screwed up, and my soul's not supposed to be here, and I'll get sucked somewhere else. So I want everything I say to be really important, even right now.

I want to say that the past couple of years have been strange. The past couple of months were stranger.

There was losing my best friends and then getting them back. Having a Walking Goddess actually look at me like I matter to her - sometimes. Uncovering government conspiracies, running for my life, all that fun stuff. And then there was Tess, lying to people I never thought I would lie to, becoming a jealous idiot, etc.

Realizing how little you know about someone when you first meet them. Getting self-confidence. Needing someone. Having a secret, having memories- hell, having sex (I'm allowed to be a guy, okay?). Being inspired. Reading someone's mind in every possible way. Laughing just because, at one given second, you're happy to be exactly where you are.

I told you once about omens and being sorry we met. I told you I shouldn't have ever gotten involved with her. I was lying through my teeth then. (I kinda miss teeth.)

If I was born a different person, in a different family, maybe even in a different state or country, I don't know what my life would've been like. It could have been longer. There might have been similar experiences, like they were fated to happen to me no matter where I was. I could have gone to another school with a different circle of friends and everything I know in this life would be some kind of insane fantasy.

Some people go their whole lives without knowing aliens exist. Where I ended up, I'm one of the lucky ones that found out. I fell in love with one.

And I'm not one bit sorry. You have to know that.

Part Eleven:

Sleepwalker (Tess)

I have a dream again.

I'm lying in the sand where I suppose I was born (or died?) a long time ago. I have the feeling it's cooler than Roswell and Earth, but it doesn't bother me.

Max remembers me. Max knows me. Max loves me.

This is where it changes. It starts out very clear, but suddenly everything looks faded and unreal. It's like when the lights come on during movie credits, and you realize for the first time in 90 minutes that you're in a theater and you'll have to get in your car and go home.

That's what I do, in a hybrid way. Tess tells Ava to fuck off tonight, gets in her Honda, and just drives along dark roads. The roads in my dream are always dark, and then there's yellow tape and a policeman blocking my way. "Move back. There's been an accident."

I say, "I know."

He says, "You'd better go home."

I say, "I know. I'm lost." I start to feel dizzy and fall, and he catches me. It's okay.

His voice sounds different.

It's okay, Tess. Please. It's okay.

What happened to the policeman?

I love you, Tess. Can you hear me? Answer me.

I don't answer. I run and run until I wake up.

~*~*~

A girl in black walks up to me today and says, "I know you."

I doubt it.

"Um... Tammy? Tricia?"

"Tess." And you are?

"You were friends with... Alex. We, um, we met last summer when-" Instead of finishing the sentence, she puts her hand by her eye and squeaks. "I'm sorry... it's-it's probably my contact lens or some..thing..."

"I didn't know him that well," I lie, looking for a direction to flee in.

"Oh, but didn't he write a song for you?" she whimpers.

Wait, who *is* this girl?

She sniffles, then takes her contact lenses out (uh, ew?) and replaces them with dark square-shaped glasses from her pocket. "I didn't mean to bother... I'm just... still so... you know?" Oh jeez, I do know her.

Wendy What's-Her-Name.

"Listen, I was just heading to this thing," she manages, "like a candle-lighting for... you should come."

I have a headache.

"I gotta go somewhere else," I say, and I apologize, and I smile. This is the kind of thing I don't need right now, like Kyle acting cluelessly sincere or Max telling me what the blood looked like. I do have somewhere else to go, and tonight I'm going to put my alien half back in charge and pretend I like letting Max use me to work out his confusion and anger and grief.

It's not so bad. He's pretty good in bed. Well, good on the floor. I'm just really afraid he'll "see into my soul" or whatever they call it. I'm glad he doesn't.

On the inside, I am a living, breathing tribute to everything shitty in the world.

What, you don't believe me? Think about this...

I don't think Alex read all of the translated book.

I know Max didn't.

There's a lovely section on alien pregnancies. Turns out they last *three* months, not one.

Oh, but I am pregnant. And I am due.

How are your math skills? Hopefully we'll be gone and home before Max's kick in.

~*~*~

It all makes sense if you think about it. If the baby isn't Max's, if the real father is dead, well there's nothing we can do about that. It's just as well he doesn't know, he'll still be a good dad. And husband. And king.

And we get to go home, which was the point from the start. Part of me knows that. Part of me says this is the best way it could have ended. Almost.

Nothing you can do about death except move on and replace it with life. I have a new life to think about, and so does Max, and so will our child (*practically* our child). I'm not alone anymore, maybe I never really was.

We'll use the book, and we'll go home, and maybe Alex's life wasn't without purpose.

~*~*~

I'm in the pod chamber again, with my family of sorts, and it's almost time to go. I wanted this so much once.

Yesterday Max clenched his jaw and sarcastically asked Liz if I'd killed Alex. For just a second, I thought I heard someone say No, and it sounded like the voice from my dream.

The funny thing was that it seemed like an accusation to me - how young and naive. Older and wiser, I know what a real accusation sounds like.

It's like this: "It was Tess! Tess killed Alex!"

Now *there's* an accusation.

I hear another No in my head. No no no. Do you really think that?

I don't answer and soon he's drowned out by Liz yelling and the Granilith beeping.

Max's eyes turn cold and scary, and he doesn't remember or know me at all. Kyle, this supposed best friend of mine, is shaking and nodding. Everyone else is fixed on me like I'm cancer personified and all they needed was a little proof.

I'm all alone. The lights come up in the movie theater. I've been so, so stupid.

Max asks if it's true, as if he'll believe something different now that Liz Parker Has A Theory. They'll all refuse anything else, and I'd hate to rain on Alex's memory anyway. Wouldn't it come out ridiculous? The sweet, innocent, protective nice guy gets corrupted by something like me. Intentionally.

So I just agree with it and cry and curse like I haven't allowed my human half to in so long.

So I step into my fate alone. Noise and light close in on me, and Max runs. Go.

Go back to your girlfriend. Go back to the nice Earth life you chose while you had the chance.

Go. You lucky bastard.

Part Twelve:

Your Eyes, Redux

Can you hear me? Why did you do it, Tess?

Leave me alone... No don't really.

Why did you lie to them?

I don't know- I didn't mean that, don't go away.

Shhh.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I didn't-

It's okay.

I didn't mean to, I-

It's okay.

Shit, I'm crying.

That's okay too.

No it's not.

Yes it is.

Don't you argue with me. You're a stupid dream.

Oh, *nice*.

What are you doing here?

I wish I knew.

Am I dying or crazy or something?

I hope not.

Do you hate me?

Why in the hell would- *no*. Tess, swear to God, you did not kill me. Okay? Why do you even thi- how- argh. Why would you...

But you don't blame me?

Of course not, not for anything. Except you screwing up your own life just now.

I'm sorry.

You didn't do anything. I'm sorry.

I'm sorrier.

*I'm* sorrier.

Shut up.

I love you.

I know.

And?

And I love you too. And I should've said that a million times.

One's enough.

Alex?

Um, yeah? Who did you think this was?

No, I knew, I just- don't kid around, this is serious.

You can't see me, but I promise I'm making a very serious face.

There's something I have to tell you about alien pregnancies.

If I had a nickel for every time I heard that...

I said serious, jerk.

Serious.

You know about me being... you know, right?

Max's. Congratulations.

Yours. Don't get sarcastic.

What do you mean "yours"?

I mean *yours*. Do the dead get infinite wisdom or what?

I missed out on the wisdom.... Wait, mine?

Yes.

As in my baby.

Yes.

I'm having a baby.

*I'm* having a baby. You're just the father.

...

Alex?

...

Alex??

Calm down, I'm still here. Wow.

Say something.

Give me a second.

Is this good? Does it suck big? I need a hint.

What is your planet gonna think about this?

I'm not technically going there. I'm supposed to find that Larek guy and see what happens. I don't know what I'll tell them.

But you could stay there and not be in danger or anything, right?

Probably.

Sounds good to me.

I'm scared.

What do I do?

Stay here.

As long as I can.

Don't ever go away, do that for me. Stay here.

Always. Always.

And don't baby me.

Anything else?

Promise I didn't cause it.

Are you kidding?

Did I?

NO.

Thank you.

God, I do not understand alien girls.

Huh?

Never mind.

~*~*~

I wake up under a few moons and a bluish tree. Tess and Ava both think it's weirdly beautiful, like we're the same person for a minute.

(Alex thinks it's pretty cool. Alex likes to talk about himself in the third person too. Would Alex like to finish the story or let me? Sorry. Go ahead.)

Some beings look me over and glow and smile as much as they can with teeny mouths. One says something in another language, then tells me in broken English that everything will be fine.

And the baby moves, and the stars keep watching, and I think I really believe him.

THE END