Liz and Max sat on the sofa in the Evanses' living room. Key word: sat. Liz tried to remember if there'd ever been a time where they'd been alone in his house and just… sat.

Okay, Max wasn't a guy who attacked one second after they found a semiprivate place. But when Liz was alone with Max, the air just got sort of charged. Liz loved that pre-make-out time, where she became more and more aware of everything. The heat that she could feel coming off Max's body. The tickle of her long hair against her back. The sound of Max's breathing getting just subtly faster. The feeling of her own breath easing in and out of her lungs. It felt almost like they were touching each other even before they started touching.

But now… they were definitely just sitting. The air didn't feel charged. It smelled stale and felt almost too thick and heavy to breathe.

I'm going to suffocate if I stay in here too long, Liz thought wildly. Then she told herself she was being idiotic. The air had just as much oxygen as it always did.

Liz shot a glance at Max. She wondered if he was aware that she was in the room with him. Or if he was aware that he was in the room. She doubted it. He had that look he always got when he was in deep communion with the consciousness. Liz hated that look-all vacant and deanimated. It was like Max wasn't Max anymore. The thing sitting next to her was shaped like Max, but it was totally lifeless.

I could slide my hand up his thigh right now, and he probably wouldn't even twitch, Liz thought.

And the worst part was that Max liked connecting to the consciousness. He liked being part of something so immense. He didn't seem to realize that submerging himself in the ocean of beings meant being away from her. Or if he did realize it, he didn't care.

Liz tucked one leg under herself. Then she twisted around and sat cross-legged. She just couldn't get comfortable. She tried a pillow behind her back. Didn't help. She tossed the pillow over onto the armchair.

I have to get out of here, she thought. If I stay here another minute, I'm going to start screaming and never stop.

"Max," Liz said loudly. "Want to head over to the Y? We can still catch part of Kevin's game."

He didn't answer. She leaned over, braced her forefinger against her thumb, then flicked him on the head. He blinked twice.

"The creature stirs," Liz muttered.

"Sorry. Did you say something?" Max asked. He rubbed his temple, right over the place she'd just flicked. Poor baby, Liz thought. Even in her head it came out sounding sarcastic.

"I asked if you wanted to swing by the Y, hang out with Maria and Michael," she said.

"Actually, I'm not feeling that great," Max admitted. "I don't know what's going on in the consciousness, but it's something mega. I keep getting hit with all this fear and anger and, I don't know, sadness, I guess."

"Is it about Alex?" Liz demanded.

"It's something new. I know that. Maybe it could be connected to Alex, but I don't think so." Max shook his head, the movement making him wince.

Liz felt a lance of guilt stab into her. She'd been so caught up in whining to herself about how Max wasn't paying any attention to her that she hadn't noticed what was going on with him. Now that she was really looking at him, she could see the signs she should have caught before-the purple smudges under his eyes, the way the skin of his forehead appeared somehow tight, the tense muscles in his neck.

"Want me to rub your shoulders?" Liz offered. "My papa always does that for Mama when she gets all stressed, trying to fill too many cake orders in one day."

"Um, actually, I think if you touch me, it's only going to make it worse," Max said. He gave her an apologetic smile. "I feel like even a feather brushing against me would be killer right now."

Liz nodded. "How about some ice water? Or could I get you a pillow or something?"

"You know what?" Max said. "Why don't you head out? I think I'm just going to try and sit very still until this goes away."

Going out into the fresh air sounded wonderful. Going over to the Y and hanging out with some people who might actually laugh and talk and everything sounded even better. But she wasn't sure Max should be alone.

"I could sit with you," Liz volunteered. "That way if you need anything-"

"No, it's okay," he said, cutting her off. "I don't want you to waste the rest of the day babysitting me."

He meant it. She could see that. He wasn't just trying to be nice.

"Okay, well… I'll see you later, then." Liz stood up slowly so she wouldn't jar him. She thought about leaning over to kiss him good-bye, but it would probably just hurt him.

"Bye," Max said.

Liz felt a little shiver skitter through her when she realized that even though he was talking to her, he was already halfway back into the deep connection. Without another word, she turned around and rushed out of the house, glad to step into the sunshine.

As she headed to the bus stop, she broke into a run. She didn't plan to, but it just felt right. Suddenly she had to get away from Max's house as fast as possible. Her dark hair streamed behind her as she pushed herself faster and faster, pulling in breath after breath of the cool air.

When she reached the stop, the bus was just pulling up. The door wheezed open, and Liz occupied herself digging out the right change and depositing it. Then she took a seat and stared out the window. As the bus rolled down the street, she forced herself to look at each building, each little store in each little strip mall. She just wanted to blank out for a while. Not think. About anything.

When the bus got close to the Crashdown Cafe, her father's restaurant, she reached out and rang the buzzer. She'd been planning to hook up with Michael and Maria, but-

But the Crashdown stop is the same stop as the UFO museum, and you want to see Adam, a knowing little voice inside her head informed her.

I don't want to see Adam, Liz told herself. But when she climbed off the bus, her feet turned toward the museum.

Okay, well, it's not like I want to see him, she amended. But I need to tell him that Kyle Valenti is going all stalker, trying to find out what happened to his father.

Oh yeah, right, the little voice retorted. Why does Adam need to know that? Kyle Valenti has no idea Adam even exists. And besides, Michael and Adam are roommates. Michael will tell Adam everything he needs to know.

"I'm not going to be one of those people who has these conversations with herself," Liz muttered, glad no one was on the sidewalk to hear her.

Fine, I'll be quiet, the little voice answered. As soon as you admit you want to see Adam. Can't wait to see him. Because when Adam looks at you, it's like you're the most beautiful, wonderful person he's ever seen.

It's just the way Max used to look at you.

"Honey, I'm home," Michael yelled as he unlocked the apartment door.

"Okay, honey, I'm in the kitchen," Adam called back. There wasn't a trace of sarcasm in his voice. That was what happened when you'd lived most of your life underground with only picture books from Dad Valenti to read and no TV or Internet access. You took everything way too friggin' literally.

"Uh, Adam, I was just joking around when I called you honey, okay?" he explained as he entered the kitchen and took a seat at the table. "Don't get the idea that that's the way guys usually, you know, address each other or anything."

"How long is it going to take me to get all this stuff?" Adam burst out. "I spend all day studying, trying to catch up and become seminormal, and I still-"

"The joking thing makes it confusing," Michael interrupted. "Besides, this is Roswell. You qualified as seminormal around here about your second day. On the way to Marias brothers basketball game, Maria and I saw a guy wearing his underpants on the outside and a T-shirt that said Abductee Volunteer."