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The thing about high school, Michael Guerin quickly learned in his freshman year, was that everyone had a spot. A physical spot where they would spend their lunch hour or free period. That spot also came with an automatic place in the social hierarchy. Isobel had claimed a table in the quad and a place at the top of high school society. While she often insisted that Max and Michael join her in the quad for lunch, she was the only one of them who actually belonged there. Max went along because he loved Isobel and because Liz Ortecho sat two tables away, and Max took every opportunity to be near Liz. Michael went along because it was better than being alone. It had absolutely nothing to do with the rumours going around about Alex Manes’s sexuality, or his black painted nails and tight black jeans, or the way he laughed with Liz and Maria.
Michael's spot was behind the bleachers. It was quiet there. It's where all the outcasts, misfits, and deviants congregated. It's where Michael met Rosa Ortecho. He'd known about her forever. She was hard to miss when her parents owned the best diner in town and when Max had been crushing on her sister for years. But, under the bleachers, that's where Michael got to know the real Rosa.
“Do you think I'm wasting my life?” Rosa asked him one day. Their feet dangled off the edge of his tailgate.
Michael shrugged. “You're asking the wrong person,” he said, gesturing to the sleeping bag behind him.
“Yeah, but at least you're getting out,” she said. “You're gonna take your scholarship and go be somebody. I'm just gonna be the town screw-up forever.”
Michael nudged her shoulder. “Nah, I don't believe that,” he said. “You ditched the douchey ex, you got out of the dealing game, and you went to that rehab place you won't talk about. You're not wasting your life.”
Rosa shifted at the mention of rehab. Michael suspected that she wasn't being entirely truthful about it, but he wasn't one to pry. Asking for secrets meant being prepared to share secrets. And he was not about to spill his guts to anyone. Also, what happened under the bleachers stayed under the bleachers. That was the rule. When Rosa confessed to Michael that Isobel had started hanging out with her, Michael said nothing. He was surprised and a little confused – Isobel was usually so clean cut and wouldn’t be caught dead with a misfit like Rosa – but he didn't talk about it. He figured Isobel was having her own little bi awakening and would bring it up eventually.
So when Michael brought up the offer Alex had made after catching Michael with his guitar, he knew she wouldn't tell anyone about it.
“You're what?” she asked between laughs.
He should have seen the teasing coming. “Shut up,” he said. “I'm staying in Alex Manes's tool shed.” He shrugged. “It's better than my truck.”
“Is ‘tool shed’ a euphemism or something?”
“What? No!” Michael's cheeks burned.
Rosa nodded slowly. “Mhm,” she said. “Aliens in outer space could see your crush on him.”
Michael’s face flushed for an entirely different reason. He swallowed down the desire to just tell one person. Just one more person to talk to about his biggest secret. He cleared his throat. “What's up with you?”
Rosa frowned. “Had to go see a movie by myself,” she said. “Izzy said she'd go with me, but then she acted like a complete jerk and like she had no idea who I was.” She sighed. “I mean, Max was there so she probably didn't want him to know, but I swear. She was like a totally different person.”
Rosa’s comment about Isobel acting like a different person stuck with Michael. It added another piece to the weird puzzle that was Isobel. He just couldn’t put it together yet. In the meantime, he had to try to keep Max off the ledge of freaking out too much over Isobel’s disappearing act at prom.
A few days after that conversation with Rosa, all thoughts of her and Isobel and Max flew from his brain the moment Michael finally learned what Alex’s lips tasted like. What his hands felt like when they burned their way up Michael’s chest and across his back. What his fingers felt like tangled in Michael’s curls. Michael forgot about everything and everyone except for Alex.
Reality came crashing back in with the door of the tool shed slamming open. Reality came in with the thunderous face of Jesse Manes and the terrifying swing of a hammer and the sickening crunch of bones.
Reality came back in like a flood when psychic images that felt like Isobel’s presence forced their way into his mind.
There were too many things happening for Michael to stop and think. His hand throbbed in pain from the mess Jesse Manes had made of it. His lips tingled with the memory of Alex's kisses. And his mind churned, replaying the psychic images over and over. He couldn't stop. If he stopped, he knew he would completely fall apart. He knew the best plan was to just go on pure instinct. So when he rushed into the cave and saw Rosa, helpless in Isobel's grip, he reacted without thinking. He telekinetically shoved Isobel away from Rosa. Both girls collapsed to the floor. Max came barreling in a moment later. He ran to Isobel first and checked her pulse.
“She's alive!” he cried. He took a deep breath. “She's alive.”
Michael swallowed thickly. “She did it Max,” he said shakily. “I saw her do it. She had her – her hand on Rosa. I-I think Isobel killed them all.”
Max scooted over to Rosa and placed two fingers on her neck. He frowned and readjusted.
“I tried to stop her Max,” Michael continued. “I-it’s not her. It can't be. Isobel wouldn't do this. When I saw her – it was like she was a different person.”
“There!” Max shouted. “It's weak, but it's there. Rosa’s alive.” He looked up at Michael. “She's alive.”
Tears spilled over from Michael's eyes. “What do we do now? There's still two bodies outside. A-and any evidence is gonna lead straight back to Isobel.”
“Then we protect her,” said Max. “We hide Rosa. We cover this up.”
Michael took responsibility for Rosa (“Where are you going to take her Max? Back to your parents’ house?”), and he took on the burden of lying to Isobel (“I, uh. I screwed up Iz.”). Max drove Isobel home, and Michael was left with Rosa, still unconscious, in his truck. He hadn't exactly considered where he would take her, so he went to the first place he thought of. The tool shed.
He used his good hand to wrap one of Rosa's arms around his shoulders. And he used his telekinesis to make it look like she was walking (an inch or two off the ground, but no one was looking that closely). He’d just gotten her laid down on the bed when the door swung open. He jumped.
“Hey, it's just me,” said Alex.
Michael relaxed. “Hey,” he said. He stepped over to Alex.
Alex reached a hand up to cradle Michael's face. “You came back,” he said. “I thought – I was afraid – I –” he paused. “Are you okay?”
Michael opened his mouth to say that he was fine, but the words wouldn't come. Tears welled up in his eyes again, threatening to spill over. “No,” he said finally, the horrible events from that night finally catching up to him. He cried into Alex's shoulder and felt Alex's arms wrapping around him.
“Not to take away from your moment of need,” Alex said, “but why is Rosa unconscious in my tool shed?”
“Um,” Michael started. He cleared his throat. “Um, t-there's something I need to tell you,” he said. “A-and, um. It’s probably going to sound made up and like I'm lying, but I promise I'm not.” Michael paused and took a deep breath. Alex gently rubbed his thumb across Michael's jawbone and cheek. “Rosa was attacked,” said Michael. “By an alien.” Alex's thumb stilled.
“Michael, aliens aren't –”
“Aren't real, I know,” Michael cut him off. “Except that they are. We are.”
Alex withdrew his hand completely. “Y-you’re an alien?”
Michael nodded. He concentrated his telekinesis on the guitar propped up by the bed. He strummed a few chords without lifting a finger. Not that he could play it properly anyways. Not with the mangled state of his hand.
Alex stared at the guitar and then at Michael. “Wow,” he exhaled. “You're an alien, I guess.” He let out a soft chuckle. “Of all the clichés I could have fallen into, I didn't think it would be getting probed by an alien in Roswell.”
Michael gave him a weak smile. Alex’s hand returned to its soothing motions and Michael leaned into it. He could almost see the wheels turning in Alex's mind.
“You can't stay here,” Alex said suddenly. Michael startled at the force in Alex's voice. “You and Rosa. Look at what my dad did to you – because I'm gay. He's not gonna be kinder to an alien.”
Michael's heart sank. Alex was right. Of course the tool shed wasn't the safe refuge it had always been. Fresh tears sprung up in Michael's eyes. “This place was supposed to be safe,” he whispered. “I wanted – I needed to be with you.”
“Hey,” Alex said softly. “We'll find a new place for us. One where my dad can't find us. Okay?” Michael nodded. “Good. Now where can you and Rosa hide out?”
Michael thought for a moment. “Sanders.”
“One-eyed old man Sanders?” Alex asked.
“Yeah.” Michael nodded. “He lets me stay sometimes. A-and there's this old Airstream at the junkyard. I could fix it up. We could stay there.”
Alex helped get Rosa back out to the truck. The cab was a little cramped with the three of them in there, and one unable to hold herself up, but they made it work. Michael drove out to the junkyard in record time.
Alex carried Rosa up to the front door, and Michael knocked. The door was wrenched open.
“The hell time do you call this, kid?” Sanders growled. He took in the sight of Alex and Rosa. “This ain't a damn B&B. I only got one couch.”
“Michael?” Alex’s shaky voice caught his attention. “Michael, what's on Rosa's face?”
Michael looked. To his horror, an iridescent mark in the shape of Isobel's hand had started to appear across Rosa's mouth.
“Get inside,” said Sanders. “Now.”
For the first time, Michael watched Sanders shoo his dog off the couch. He gestured to the now empty couch.
“Put her here,” Sanders said. He eyed Alex as he laid Rosa on the couch. “You're one of the Manes boys?” Alex nodded. “Huh,” said Sanders. “Never did like all them Manes men. Only met one decent one.”
“If it means anything,” Alex said, “I don't like them too much either. And they don't like me.”
Sanders looked to Michael. “Guess you found the only other decent Manes,” he said. “Good. Cause it looks like you've got yourself into some trouble.” He indicated Rosa, still prone on the couch.
Michael didn't think he'd ever heard Sanders speak that many words. He usually communicated through grunts, gestures, and three-word sentences. Now he was interrogating Alex and examining the mark on Rosa's face. The handprint had blossomed into its full expression. There was no way to hide it while it faded. They would need to hide Rosa.
“Which one of y'all did this?” Sanders asked, looking directly at Michael.
“S-sorry, what?”
Sanders gave him a pointed look. “You, Max, or Isobel?” he said. “Which one of you did this?”
“Um.” Michael swallowed and hesitated. “Isobel. How do you know about me – about us? About this? Are you… are you my father?”
Sanders snorted. “I'd be a piss-poor father if I was,” he said. He turned back to Rosa without answering any more of Michael's questions. “She'll be fine,” Sanders told them. “Her energy's been drained so it’s gonna take her a while to wake up. She can stay here until that mark fades.” He stood from where he'd been kneeling next to the couch. “You two good with the floor?”
Michael was still reeling from the revelation that Sanders knew about aliens, so he was grateful when Alex spoke up. “Yeah,” Alex said. “We're good.”
Sanders brought them some blankets and pillows before disappearing into his room. Alex again took the lead, and he set up a little sleeping area for the two of them. He gestured for Michael to join him on the floor. Michael went. Alex pulled Michael into his chest and wrapped an arm over his waist.
“I'm okay,” Alex said. “Rosa's going to be okay. Are you going to be okay?”
More tears prickled in Michael's eyes. He willed them away, not wanting to cry for what felt like the millionth time that night. “I don't know,” he told Alex. “You being here helps though.”
Alex kissed the back of Michael's head. “Then I guess I'll just have to stay, won't I?” he said.
“Guess so.” Michael twisted his head around to kiss Alex properly. “Thank you.”
The next morning, Rosa still hadn't woken up. Alex and Michael woke to the sounds of Sanders making coffee and breakfast. Alex nudged Michael to go into the kitchen without him. Michael hovered in the doorway to the kitchen, unsure how to start this particular conversation with the revelations from the previous night still fresh in his memory.
Sanders put a cup of coffee and a bottle of ibuprofen on the table. “Sit down kid,” he said.
Michael sat. He took a sip of the coffee. Not as good as the Crashdown’s but still comforting. “This, uh, these don't really work for me,” he said, poking at the ibuprofen bottle.
Sanders turned back to the stove. A moment later, the ibuprofen bottle was replaced by an omelette. Michael picked up his fork eagerly. “What does work?” Sanders asked.
“Um, acetone,” Michael said. “Like in nail polish remover.” Sanders grunted. “How do you know about me?”
Sanders sighed and set down his spatula. He opened a drawer and pulled out a folder. From the folder, he produced an old piece of newspaper. He placed it on the table for Michael to see. 1948, he read.
“That's me,” he said, pointing to the boy in the photo. “And that's Miss Nora,” he said, moving his finger to the young woman. “She's your mama.”
Michael's fork fell to the plate with a loud clang. “You knew my mom?” he half-shouted. “How? Why didn't you tell me?” Michael paused and frowned. “ Why didn't you tell me?” he repeated. “Ten years of group homes and shitty foster parents, and you never told me? Three years of working here and staying on your couch, and you never told me? I – I…” Michael trailed off.
He looked helplessly at Sanders, and Sanders looked back, his face screwed up like he was concentrating on something important. Maybe he was. Maybe he was trying to find the right way to explain why he'd let Michael drift, lonely and isolated, for ten years.
A knock on the door frame broke their staring contest, and Michael turned to see Alex standing awkwardly in the doorway.
“Hey,” said Alex. “I think Rosa's waking up.”
Michael rushed to Rosa's side with Alex and Sanders right behind him. He could see her eyes moving behind her eyelids, and her eyelids even fluttered a few times, but they remained stubbornly closed. After a short time, the eye movement stopped as well. Michael sighed. Alex gently rubbed a hand over Michael's shoulder.
Sanders grunted. “Come on,” he said. “There's breakfast waiting.” He went back to the kitchen without waiting for a response.
Michael let himself be turned and pulled into a hug by Alex. “I just want to get away for a bit,” he said. “Play some music, you know? Clear my head.”
“I know,” Alex said, tucking Michael’s face into his shoulder. “I know.”
Alex went home after breakfast. “I need to keep my dad away from you and hopefully away from his ‘gay is perverse’ tirade,” he said. “The best way I can do that is to not let him catch me with you.”
Michael protested but let him leave with a kiss and a promise that he would come back.
Early afternoon brought Max and Isobel over. Max looked completely haggard, like he hadn't slept at all. To the untrained eye, Isobel looked picture perfect. But her eyeliner was uneven and one hoop earring was slightly smaller than the other. She was disheveled by Isobel standards.
“Rosa's still out of it,” Michael told them. “Sanders, uh. He knows everything.” He let out a weak laugh. “Turns out that he's known the whole time. He knew my mom.”
“Michael,” Isobel breathed. She reached out to touch his shoulder. He leaned into it. This was the softest she'd been in weeks, and he swore he could feel some of his emotional pain seeping out of him.
“Does anyone else know?” Max asked, ever the practical one.
Michael bit his lip. Alex knew. But sharing that information would change everything. He trusted Alex to not tell. But he also wanted to keep Alex to himself for a little bit longer. Besides. Alex wasn't exactly in the closet, but he wasn't exactly out either. He wasn't going to out Alex. So he shook his head. “No,” he said. “But we'll have to tell Rosa when she wakes up.” He hesitated. “She has the mark on her.”
“What?” Max gasped.
“How?” asked Isobel. “You said it was your telekinesis. The mark only ever shows up after that hand power that Max has.”
Michael and Max glanced at each other before looking away awkwardly. Isobel narrowed her eyes at them.
“What aren't you telling me?” she asked. Her expression cleared a moment later. “Oh. Oh my god. No. No, I –” She hesitated. “I – I did it, didn't I? I blacked out yesterday. I killed them?” she whispered the last part. “Why would I do that?”
“You're never gonna understand because it wasn't you,” Michael told her. “When I found you with Rosa – it was like you were a completely different person.”
“But it was me!” Isobel yelled. “You saw me!”
“I saw you, but it wasn't you ,” said Michael.
“I need a minute.” Isobel threw her hands in the air and walked away. Max followed her.
Once Isobel had wrapped her brain around the very uncertain reality they were in, she and Max came back to the house. Rosa still hadn't woken up. Michael figured that there was no point to all three of them staying and waiting (especially when one of them had the face of the person who had tried to kill her) so he sent them home and promised to call with any updates.
No sooner had they gone when Alex came back. Michael welcomed him with a tight hug. He winced when his broken hand brushed Alex’s shoulder as they separated.
Alex looked at the broken hand curiously. “I get now why you wouldn’t let me take you to the hospital,” he said. “Is there anything you can do? It’s a really bad break. Your hand could be screwed up permanently if it doesn’t heal right.”
Michael looked down at his shoes.
“There is, isn’t there?” Alex asked. “What is it?”
Michael exhaled. “Max’s power,” he said. “He can… heal people. Injuries. But it’s the same type of power that was used to hurt Rosa.”
Alex frowned. “Okay…” he said. “But Max wouldn’t hurt you.” Michael shook his head. “You should ask him to heal you.”
“What if someone notices that my broken hand is suddenly completely fine?” Michael asked.
“Who?” said Alex. He raised an eyebrow at Michael. “The only people who know your hand was broken in the first place are either aliens or know about aliens. And my dad,” he added. “But I plan to make sure he never goes near you again.”
“You’re hot when you’re fierce and protective,” Michael mumbled.
Alex smirked. “So you’ll do it?” Michael nodded. Alex smiled and kissed him.
Sanders loudly cleared his throat behind them. They turned to look at him. “She’s awake,” he said.
Michael and Alex looked at each other and then ran inside. Michael immediately kneeled down next to the couch. Rosa’s eyes were open, but she was still lying down, like she didn’t have the energy to sit up.
“Hey,” Michael said. “How are you feeling?”
“Worse than I’ve ever felt before,” Rosa said. “Where am I? What the hell happened?”
“What do you remember?” Michael asked.
“Um.” Rosa took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Kate and Jasmine trashed my car. I was pissed. Izzy was being extra… just extra. I couldn’t handle her so I was avoiding her. I think I yelled at Max? A-and I went to the turquoise mines. I needed my backpack. There’s… there’s a bus ticket. I was going to get away from Roswell. And Izzy…” Rosa squeezed her eyes tighter. “God, she was saying the most fucked up things. She said she killed Kate and Jasmine. And that her body wasn’t actually her body. And that’s it.” She opened her eyes.
“Okay,” said Michael. “Um.” He paused. “Trust me on this?” Rosa nodded. “Aliens are real. And you were attacked by one.”
“Aliens,” Rosa said flatly. “That’s the story you’re going with?”
“It’s true,” Alex said from behind Michael. “And I have a theory. I think Isobel was possessed by another alien.”
Michael shook his head. “No, we’re the only ones,” he said to Alex. “We’d know if there was another alien. We just would.”
“What if you didn’t?” Alex pressed. “Think about it. You told me that sometimes Isobel’s been acting like someone else. You said that she seemed like a completely different person when you found her last night. Rosa just told us that Isobel said that she wasn’t in her own body. I think there’s another alien here. And that they’ve been possessing Isobel.”
“Wait,” said Michael. He turned back to Rosa. “The movie. You said that Isobel acted like she didn’t know you or know about your plans.”
“What if she didn’t?” said Alex. “What if the person who Rosa’s been hanging out with wasn’t Isobel at all?”
Rosa kept looking back and forth between them. “Amazing theory,” she said dryly. “Or maybe Izzy’s just a stuck-up bitch who got high and hit me over the head.” She tried to push herself up to a sitting position. “I kinda want to go home now.”
“No!” Alex and Michael yelled together.
“Sorry,” Michael said. “But you need to stay here for a few days.”
“Why?” Rosa demanded. “So you can convince me that aliens are real?”
Alex pulled his phone out of his pocket and snapped a picture of Rosa. He held the phone out to her. “You can’t go home,” he said. “Because there’s no way to explain that to Liz or your dad.”
Rosa stared at the photo. She touched her face with her fingertips. “Wh-what is that?”
“A mark,” Michael said. “A mark from the alien that tried to drain you to death. It’ll fade in a few days.”
“Aliens?” Rosa looked wide-eyed at Michael and Alex.
“Aliens,” Michael confirmed.
Michael had thought that things would calm down once Rosa had woken up. They didn’t. He called Max and Isobel to tell them that Rosa had woken up, and they insisted on coming over as soon as possible. Alex dodged phone calls from Liz and ignored her and Maria’s texts, asking him to call.
“I hate lying to them,” Alex told Michael as they sat out in the evening sun. “Liz is freaking out because Rosa hasn’t come home, and Maria’s freaking out because…” he faltered. “Because I told her about the museum yesterday?”
“The museum yester- oh.” Realization dawned on Michael. Had it only been a day? “When I kissed you?”
Alex smiled softly. “Yeah,” he said. “Anyways now she’s obsessed with my love life and trying to figure out who you are, and Liz has been bugging her about Rosa being missing so now they’re both hounding me.”
Michael bit his lip. “You could tell them,” he said. “About me. Not about Rosa. But you can tell them it was me in the museum. If you want.”
“Really?” Alex’s face lit up.
Michael shrugged. “Secrets suck.”
Alex’s phone rang at the same time as Max’s jeep pulled into the junkyard.
“I should probably talk to them,” Alex said, holding up his phone. “See you later?”
“Yeah.” Michael nodded. He saw Alex hesitate for a moment, and then Alex leaned over and kissed his cheek. Michael was powerless to stop the grin spreading across his face. “Secrets suck?”
“Secrets suck.” Alex nudged his shoulder. “You’ve got this.”
Max’s expression was stormy as he and Isobel walked over to Michael. “So Alex Manes, huh?” he said.
Alex was halfway to the gate by then. Michael turned his attention to Max. “Yeah,” he said. “So what?”
“Does he know?”
Michael stood up with a sigh. “Yeah,” he said. “Alex knows. Alex kept me and Rosa safe last night. Alex kept me from completely falling apart. And Alex put a bunch of pieces together and came up with a theory about what’s going on.”
Max looked like he wanted to argue, but Isobel cut him off. “What’s the theory?” she asked.
“That you’re being possessed,” Michael said. “That every time you black out, there’s another alien who’s somehow possessing your body. They made friends with Rosa, might be in love with her, and they’re the one who attacked the three girls last night. They just… used your body as a weapon.”
Max was shaking his head. “No,” he said. “No, we’d know if –”
“It actually makes sense,” Isobel cut Max off again. “Because Kate and Jasmine were killed with telekinesis, right? And Rosa was hurt with the handprint power. I didn’t even know I could use those powers. Only another alien, a stronger alien, would know how.”
Max scoffed. “I guess,” he said. “Did Alex have any other brilliant ideas?”
“Yeah,” said Michael. “He said you should heal my hand.”
“Oh.” Max blinked. “Oh, yeah, sure.”
Michael held out his broken hand, and Max gently took it in his. His eyes squeezed shut as he concentrated his energy into Michael’s hand. Healing was a weird feeling, Michael thought. It wasn’t that he could feel his bones suddenly snapping back into place, but more like his molecules were rearranging themselves back into the proper positions. It felt kind of tingly, like the moments after Alex kissed him. Michael flexed his fingers after Max released his hand. It felt as good as new. Like it had never been broken at all.
Max wanted to go inside to see Rosa. Isobel did not. She was concerned, but she said that she didn’t think it would be good for Rosa to be confronted by the alien bombshell and then by the person who had attacked her. Michael agreed.
“So you’ve got Alex,” Isobel said, almost conspiratorially. “And Max is going to follow Liz around like a puppy forever.” Michael raised an eyebrow. “I know he’s a dick, but Kyle Valenti’s kinda hot, right?”
Michael choked on his own saliva. “You’ve definitely got the dick part right,” he said. “He’s a bully and a homophobe. Maybe find someone who’s neither?”
Isobel sighed.
The next day, Rosa was able to sit up on the couch and walk short distances. She was also starting to get antsy with being cooped up in Sanders’ house.
“I just want to get out,” she said to Michael. “I want to do something. I hate feeling so trapped.”
“Okay,” said Michael. He tossed her one of his hoodies. “Come on.”
Rosa threw the hoodie on and pulled the hood up to cover her head. Michael helped her out to his truck. He drove first to Alex’s house.
“Seriously?” Rosa asked. “When I said I wanted to go somewhere, this isn’t exactly what I meant.”
“Trust me,” Michael said. “I’ll be back in a minute. Please don’t go anywhere.”
Rosa sighed and slumped in her seat. Michael hopped out of the truck. He snuck down the familiar route to the backyard of the Manes house and into the tool shed. The memories of That Night crawled up his spine like spiders. He grabbed the guitar in the corner and got the hell out.
Alex was waiting by the truck, his own guitar in hand. “Saw you going into the tool shed,” he said. “I figured there was only one reason you would go back in there.”
Michael grinned. “I thought we could drive out to the desert,” he said.
“Let’s go.”
Alex slid into the truck next to Rosa, and Michael put their guitars in the back before going around to the driver’s seat. He drove them out into the desert until Alex pointed and said, “There.”
Michael parked next to a lone tree, and they all climbed out. Rosa sat on the tailgate. She grabbed Alex’s guitar and started to strum something. Michael thought it might have been a Third Eye Blind song, but he couldn’t tell.
“Wait, wait, let me,” said Alex. He took the guitar from Rosa and started to play a song. This one Michael definitely thought he recognized. Then Alex started singing. “ Spaceman, oh spaceman, come rescue me – from this. Calling all aliens, come rescue me. ”
Rosa burst out laughing. “Only you would get an alien boyfriend, and then sing about aliens,” she said. “Guerin, your turn. Play us something.”
Michael picked up his guitar from the truck, his mind still stuck on the word “boyfriend”. Were he and Alex boyfriends now? He fumbled with getting the strap over his shoulder, and Alex kissed his cheek.
“Come on boyfriend ,” he said.
Heat flooded into Michael’s cheeks. Slowly, he moved his fingers into position on the fretboard. It still felt weird that his left hand was able to do that again. He couldn’t imagine going longer than those two days with a fucked up hand. He looked at Alex and started playing “First Day of My Life” by Bright Eyes. Alex smiled at him.
Alex picked his own guitar back up and joined in with Michael’s strumming. Before long, Michael stopped playing, content to just listen to Alex. He was the better guitar player anyways. Alex transitioned from one love song into another, and Michael let his guitar rest on his foot. He gazed at Alex, happy that he was allowed to look, allowed to love, and happy that they were both safe.
A camera shutter broke the spell.
Alex stopped playing, and they both turned to look at Rosa. She held up a disposable camera.
“I’d say sorry, but you know I’m not,” she said. “You’ll thank me later for that picture.”
“Why’d you take it?” Michael asked her.
“Cause I’m tired of tragedy and drama and heartbreak,” Rosa said. “I want to believe in happiness and love again. I think this picture,” she waved the camera, “will remind us all what happiness and love look like.”
Michael and Alex glanced at each other. Then they both stepped forward to wrap Rosa in a hug.
“Thank you,” Michael said.
“Ugh, affection!” Rosa protested. “I’m allergic.”
Alex laughed and pulled away.
Things weren’t magically better. Two girls had died. There was a fourth alien in Roswell with the ability to possess Isobel when she was blacked out. Alex was still living under the thumb of Jesse Manes and the threat of enlistment over college.
But they had a little pocket of happiness. And there, in the spot in the desert by the tree that seemed to sing to him, with Alex by his side, Michael believed in love and happiness and that everything would be okay.
