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"Cool it, you guys," she told Michael and Maria. If she couldn't relieve Max of most of his unfair burden, at least she could play peacemaker between his squabbling friends and allies. "We're all kind of stressed-out, I think." And who wouldn't be, she thought, after all we've been through lately? "Let's cut each other some slack, okay?"Yeah, I guess so," Michael agreed, looking a little chastened. He shrugged, which was about as close as he ever came to an apology, and cast a conciliatory look at Maria, who relaxed her own combative body language a notch or two. "I just want to be ready, you know? For the FBI. For the Skins. Everything."Are you sure we should be talking about this here?" Isabel asked anxiously from the next booth, looking over the back of her own seat at Liz and the others, like her brother, she looked tense and worried, while her voice, if anything, sounded even more nervous and apprehensive. Her immaculate, cover-girl appearance belied her chronic uneasiness. "What if somebody heard you?"like who?" Maria snorted. A devout advocate of aromatherapy, she fetched a tiny glass vial from her pocket, and uncapped it beneath her nose. Sniffing the fragrant oil seemed to ease her frustration with Michael. "Look around," she said, "this place is deader than Senator Whitaker."Sitting across from Isabel, nibbling on a stack of golden Unidentified Frying Objects, Alex tried to reassure her. "Besides, don't forget, this is Roswell, the unofficial capital of Close Encounters land," he said, a grin upon his boyish face. The tourists expect to hear us discussing crashed alien spaceships and top secret government conspiracies. Heck, we should probably be talking louder, just to do our part for the local economy."His glib attempt to lift Isabel's spirits failed miserably. "That's not fu
"Liz is right," Maria a
As if he could sense her longing for a little harmless childhood regression, Max nodded solemnly. "Carlsbad Caverns works for me," he stated with quiet authority. His dark, serious eyes surveyed the faces around him. "What do the rest of you think?"No surprise, Michael was unconvinced. "What do I care about earth sciences," he said sourly, making another unsuccessful grab at the stolen newspaper. "I'm not even from Earth."Maria gave him a warning glare. "Don't be such a Czechoslovakian party pooper," she said, using her preferred euphemism for extraterrestrial, "or I might forget that you're the love of my life."Michael sank back sullenly against the back of the booth, clearly resentful, but apparently unwilling to push his luck much further, at least for now. "Okay, make that three votes for the Caverns," Maria said smugly. She craned her head to peer into the next booth over. "What about you, Alex? You up for a journey to the center of Earth?"Er, I think so," he answered, awkwardly searching Isabel's exquisitely made-up face for some clue to her preferences. "Umm, what do you think, Iz?" He smiled broadly, trying too hard to sound cheerful and upbeat. "Sounds like it could be fun."Isabel, in turn, turned to her brother for guidance. "Are you sure this is a good idea, Max?" she asked, her uncertain tone making it sound like they were discussing a root canal rather than a joy ride. Liz wondered, somewhat uncharitably, if Prozac worked on aliens.
"It couldn't hurt, Iz," Max said softly. Liz couldn't help noticing how tenderly he handled his sister's frayed and fragile nerves. How could he doubt that he was born to be his people's leader? Isabel's hand gripped the wooden divider between the two booths, and Max gently placed his own hand atop hers. "Plus, it might be exactly what we all need."Okay," Isabel assented. She managed a wan smile, making an effort to get into the spirit of things. "A change of scenery might be nice at that."That settles it, then!" Maria said triumphantly. "You're outvoted, Michael, five-to-one." A burst of organizational energy animated her entire body, setting her ante