The Rebel

"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 di

"Okay, I will," he called back. And he actually meant it. Mrs. Pascal seemed much less a

"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.