"Crap," Max breathed as he shot up from his seat so quickly that it wobbled on its legs and almost fell over. But neither of us noticed the subtle precarious fate of the chair as Max tugged on our still entwined hands and pulled me to my feet.
"Who is it?" I whispered, sudden deep fear twisting my insides.
"Doesn't matter. You need to hide," Max said tensely, his hand tight around my fingers, as he pulled me up the stairs.
I focused my eyes on my feet as his quick pace almost made me lose my footing. It felt like he was basically lifting me up the stairs, my feet barely touching the steps, and we reached the second floor in no time.
From downstairs, I heard the faint buzz of the car engine turning off and my breath froze on my dry tongue. I would have been paralyzed on the top landing of those stairs if Max hadn't been in charge of moving my body. My feet stumbled across black tiled flooring and I ungracefully bumped into Max as he abruptly stopped and pulled a door open.
Still holding onto my hand, he grabbed my free elbow with his other hand and essentially reversed my body into a small dark compartment. Thick fabrics brushed against my back and I realized that I was in some kind of walk-in closet. I made the mistake of looking up into Max's eyes and noticed the fear there, which instantly destroyed any small piece of calmness I might have had left.
A car door slammed shut outside the house. I was rooted to the floor, staring at Max. He hesitated, then leaned in and briefly brushed my cold forehead with his lips.
Pulling back, he whispered gently, "Don't be scared."
At a loss for words, I nodded.
He mustered up a small smile, but I could tell from the way it failed to reach the crinkles around his eyes that it was mostly put on for my benefit. "I'll be right back."
I nodded again as he stepped back, closed the door and cloaked me in darkness.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. It was less claustrophobic to have your eyes closed, not having to see how small the space was or how the clothes around you were leaning towards you, soaking up your oxygen.
I heard Max rush down the stairs and clearly heard the sound of dishes being moved (he was removing traces of a second person being here), before the front door opened.
"Max?"
I clenched my fists and squeezed my eyes even tighter at the monotone voice of Max's father. I'm sure there was supposed to be surprise in Mr. Evans' voice, but maybe it took an extra effort for an alien to actually add emotions to his voice.
"Oh, hi," Max answered easily, the surprise very evident in his voice however. "I thought I heard a car."
"What are you doing here? It's late."
There was a pause before Max answered calmly, "Not that late. I'm studying. I have this big test coming up and Isabel was bugging me."
"You didn't have to come all the way out here just to study," Mr. Evans said, his voice still plain and lacking inflections. It was impossible to read anything out of the sound of his voice. "You should have just told your mother or me that she was bothering you and we would have told her to leave you alone."
"I know," Max muttered. "I just... I lost it."
Mr. Evans sighed loudly. "You have to learn to control your temper, Max. It's getting you into a lot of trouble lately."
"Yeah," Max mumbled evasively and I wondered if his father was including me in his 'trouble' reference.
"And I'm not gonna tell you again; you should really let us know when you drive away like this. You'll make your mother worry."
"I know," Max agreed guiltily.
"Especially with what's been going on lately. You've broken our trust on more than one occasion."
"I'm sorry about that," Max said, his voice so soft, borderline submissive, that I had to strain to hear his answer.
"Have you been cooking?" his father asked, abruptly changing the topic and I heard the sound of dishes being moved around in a sink.
"Food for the brain," Max answered simply, his voice stronger again.
"I'm glad to see that you're focusing on school again. You need the grades for medical school."
"Right," Max said distractedly and cleared his throat. "So what are you doing here, Dad?"
"The community's having a meeting," Mr. Evans replied without pretense.
My heart dropped to my stomach. Max's reaction must have been similar because there was a longer pause than what was considered normal before he asked, "Tonight?"
"No," Mr. Evans replied breezily and the sound of steps increasing and decreasing around the main room downstairs told me that Mr. Evans was moving around a lot. "But I needed to check some things."
"You didn't tell me you were having a meeting," Max said, confused suspicion in his voice, insinuating that he was usually informed of these things and quite possibly was invited to all of their meetings.
"You're not invited," Mr. Evans said like he was informing Max that he needed to pick up some milk. Not the least acknowledging that his statement might hurt.
"Why not?" Max's voice was sharp and tense.
"Because the meeting is about you, son."
I sharply bit the inside of my cheek. Oh no.
Even from my hideout upstairs I could hear the tremble in Max's voice as he repeated, "About me?"
"Don't act so surprised, Max," Mr. Evans said, the first audible emotion in his voice; amusement. "The community is perturbed by your recent acts of defiance. Even in the light of our most effective means of punishment, you keep on breaking the law."
"I-" Max started, but Mr. Evans voice was ice cold as he interrupted his son.
"You've disgraced our family, Maxwell. You continuously lie; to your parents, to your superiors. That stunt that you pulled with Sean at school-"
"Dad, I-" Max's voice was almost pleading in his attempt at interrupting, but Mr. Evans pressed on.
"Again with Elizabeth Parker. There are suspicions that you never erased her memories, like I asked you to. That you lied straight to my face about having erased them. If that is true, it's a very serious offense, Maxwell. Sean is under the impression that you have interfered with him bonding with Elizabeth-"
"She's not ready yet!" Max erupted and my breath trembled as Max forgot his cool. "You said so yourself! Sean has no right messing with her yet."
Mr. Evans' voice could freeze the hottest volcano. "And you have?"
"She was hurt! I needed to heal her." Max's voice was growing in intensity and I winced as I heard his heart through his anger. I was afraid that Mr. Evans could hear it too. "What good would she be to our community if I had let her die?"
"That's fine," Mr. Evans said. "But you shouldn't have bonded with-"
"Her injuries were too extensive for a superficial hea-"
"Don't interrupt me, son."
I took a step back into the hanging clothing. Letting the unfamiliar smells which had been incorporated into those fabrics envelop me as I tried to distance myself from the reality downstairs and also stop myself from running to Max's defense.
He had saved me. He had saved my life. And his father was mad at him because of it.
"I apologize, sir," Max mumbled, resistance at the implied submission clear in his voice.
Mr. Evans' voice was calm as he continued, "We've been over this. You should have healed what you could superficially and then hand her over to us to complete the task. You are not yet fully trained to make deep healing without bonding."
There was a pause and I wondered if it was because Max was waiting to see if Mr. Evans was done talking and he was allowed to speak, or if it was because Max was unsure what to say.
"I thought it would be simpler if only I was involved. The post erasing process would be far less extensive."
"Yes," Mr. Evans said. "That's what I've been telling Sarge."
"Then what?" Max bit out and I knew that he was back on walking a thin line. One didn't speak to Mr. Evans like that. "What is this meeting about? I've left Liz Parker alone. I've served the punishment for accusing Sean of forcing himself on her, and I overheard Liz telling her friend just today that she was Sean's girlfriend."
"That's a positive development," Mr. Evans said slowly and I got the feeling that he hadn't been informed of that last piece of information prior to Max's declaration. "But the meeting is still on."
There was a loaded pause and I returned to my previous position, leaning up against the door and pressing my ear against the wooden surface, wondering if they had just lowered their voices.
Then Max spoke. "They don't trust me."
A shiver ran through me at the desolation and rejection in his voice. Even though Max seemed to very much dislike being an alien, he was still an integral part of a community. And like any other member of a group, he needed to feel included and accepted.
"You've given them plenty of reasons not to," Mr. Evans replied. "You've repeatedly jeopardized our control over our newest gaea, which is a serious offense."
"I know," Max mumbled.
"They want to discuss if you are to be re-educated."
I frowned. Re-educated?
As I considered what this could mean, I noticed that the house had grown quiet and my pulse tightened and increased in my ears the longer the silence stretched.
Then Max said, with such a deep sound of rejection that my body curled in on itself, "You're sending me away?"
"If they rule you to be out of control..." Mr. Evans said slowly and I thought I hinted warmth in his voice. Could he actually be concerned for his son? Would Mr. Evans be on his son's side and defend him in that meeting?
"Brainwashing," Max mumbled and goosebumps spread over my skin.
Brainwashing?
"Don't be ridiculous," Mr. Evans said, his voice hard.
"Come on." Max was annoyed. "Let's not sugar-coat it. It's exactly what it is. I've been there before, remember?"
"It would do you good," Mr. Evans said, as if he was talking about taking vitamins, instead of going through a washing out process of the brain.
"If they force me..." Max's voice trailed off and I desperately wanted to see his face right then, to see what had stopped him.
Amusement had returned to Mr. Evans. "You'll do what? Run away?" He laughed shortly. "There's nothing out there for you on your own. Turn your back on the society and you'll be as good as dead. You'll be without protection, without cover, at risk of getting discovered for what you really are. And you won't only be hiding from humans, but also from us. Out there - without our consent - you're a liability. You know that. They can't risk you walking around and accidentally blow our cover."
Max sounded offended and rightfully so, I thought. His dad had basically just threatened his life. "You really think I would talk about us?"
"What if you were caught, son? Tortured for information? Would you keep quiet or break?"
"I wouldn't-"
Mr. Evans interrupted Max's objection, "My suggestion is that you don't run away." His voice softened as he said, "You're one of us. You're my son, Max. I care for you." He sighed. "This Parker girl has always got you twisted up in knots. You need to forget about her, I've told you over and over again. She's not yours. Find yourself some other girl. There are so many girls out there. After all, we need to carry the healing ability on."
I bit my lip against the tears threatening to develop. Mr. Evans wanted Max to create a family. With someone else. Someone who would be accepted by Max's family. By Max's community.
Someone that was not me.
No, I needed to procreate with Sean. Or maybe procreation was never part of the plan. Maybe I was just supposed to be a childless sex slave.
"The meeting is tomorrow," Mr. Evans said in the absence of a reply from Max and I found myself once again wishing that I could see Max right then. Touch him. Comfort him. Because I knew, on some fundamental level, that this was breaking him apart.
"I don't want you anywhere near this house then. Not even for studying. You are not to tell them that you know of the existence of this meeting, understood?"
Max's voice was faint as he replied, "Yes," before distractedly adding, "Sir."
"That's my boy," Mr. Evans said, a happy tone to his voice which made anger flare hotly in the center of my chest.
He didn't even understand that he had hurt his son. That he had just turned his back on his own flesh and blood.
With a merry sigh, Mr. Evans added, "Now. Your mother will be wondering about my extended absence. I've been here too long. I need to find those protocols."
"Of course, Dad," Max said, a toneless dejection in his voice that scared me.
But it was quickly forgotten in light of hearing Mr. Evans' footsteps on the stairs. My heart rate quickly sped up, the sound of my blood roared in my ears as I took a step back into the clothing, trying to cloak myself inside the clothing if by chance Mr. Evans would sense me being there or something (you never knew with aliens, right?) and open the door.
I held my breath, my whole body tensing, as I heard his footsteps pass outside the door. I relaxed some when I heard them walk away, before my body repeated the same procedure as the footsteps returned a couple of minutes later.
But he had no interest in the small compartment, instead quickly descending the stairs.
"Call your mother, Max," Mr. Evans said. "She's expecting you for dinner."
"I already told Isabel to tell you-" Max started.
"No arguments," Mr. Evans cut off the conversation plainly and without any words of goodbye. I heard the front door open and slam shut. I listened to the silence draping itself over the house as a car door slammed shut outside of the house, followed by the revving of an engine and the subsequent sound of a car driving away until even the outdoors were quiet.