"Oh. Okay. Bye." She wasn't going to beg him to let her stay in the car. Isabel climbed out and gently shut the door behind her. She started up the walkway, then hesitated. Maybe she should do something to show Alex that she wasn't going to lose it if they kissed again.
Isabel turned around and rushed back to the car. She tapped on Alex's window, and he rolled it down. "I, uh, forgot to say good night."
"Oh, yeah, good-" Before Alex could finish, Isabel took his face in her hands and kissed him. She caught him with his mouth half open, so she deepened their kiss instantly.
He kissed her back for about half a second, then he pulled away. He cleared his throat. "I don't think… I don't think this is a great idea," he said.
"You're still parked." Isabel tried to keep her tone light and teasing even though the lump in her stomach had just doubled. "There wasn't much chance I was going to make you have an accident."
"That's not what I meant," he answered.
"Well, what did you mean?" Isabel asked.
"I just can't deal with kissing you-not when I know you're thinking about… someone else," Alex answered slowly. "I completely understand, though. And I want to stay friends," he added. "We can still hang out and stuff."
"And stuff. Oh, good. I'd hate to miss the stuff," Isabel mumbled. She felt like someone had just grabbed a baseball bat and smacked her on the head with it. She was reeling, hardly able to keep on her feet.
Alex had rejected her. Alex-the guy who was at least three rungs below her on the school social scale. How pathetic. How humiliating. How… unacceptable.
Isabel forced a laugh. "Well, that's a relief," she said. "So I guess I'm off the hook?"
Alex's eyes clouded over with confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Well, duh," she said. "I was only being nice to you because you helped save my life. I mean, you're a charity case. You know that, right?"
Alex studied her for a moment, his green eyes serious. Then he shook his head. "You're going to have to do better than that," he said. "I'll call you tomorrow night."
Isabel stared after his car as he drove off. Alex had looked disappointed in her. She turned and ran for the house. Trying to make it inside before the tears came.
Michael led Maria into his room. "We have to leave the door open," he told her. "That's rule number forty-seven on the Pascals' list."
"So I guess we'll just have to eat our pudding, not wrestle around naked in it," Maria teased.
Michael choked on the big spoonful of pudding he'd just shoveled into his mouth. Whoa. That image almost knocked his thoughts up into the X-rated zone. And he'd been doing pretty well up until now. He'd been relieved when Maria had shown up wearing those baggy overalls for the Pascals' we-want-to-meet-one-of-Michael's-friends dinner. The outfit helped keep his mind where it should be. Well, except for the fact that he kept getting glimpses of the tiny T-shirt she was wearing underneath the overalls. The overalls put Maria in the cute category. But the T-shirt, the T-shirt kept trying to push her over into sexy.
Maria plopped down on Dylan's bed and glanced around the room. Michael leaned against his dresser. "I see you haven't taken my advice and started watching Martha Stewart," she commented. "You need one personal thing in here at least. If you don't get one, I'm going to give you one-maybe a nice ceramic raccoon, in honor of the Pascals."
"I have CDs and books," Michael protested. "What do you want from me?" Maria had lived in the same house since she was born. She didn't understand that when you moved from place to place, you couldn't haul a bunch of junk with you.
"Doesn't count," she insisted. "I'm going shopping tomorrow. I'm going to find the very best raccoon for you. Maybe one with a little top hat."
"Wait." Michael opened his top dresser drawer. "Here's one thing I do have." He pulled out a piece of what looked like metal about the size of a book of matches and handed it to her. "It's from the ship. At least I think it is-I've never even heard of anything like it. Try crinkling it up."
Maria stared at him, then at the material in her palm. She tightened her hand around it, squeezing the metal into a little ball. The moment she opened her fingers, the metal straightened itself out into exactly the same shape it had been before. It didn't even have one tiny dent. "Wow," she whispered.
"That's why I think the ship is still out there somewhere," Michael told her. "If it's made of that stuff, it has to be pretty much indestructible. I've tried everything on that piece-hammer, saw, even a blowtorch. Nothing hurts it."
"Can I try something?" Maria asked.
Michael laughed. "Go ahead, muscle girl. Maybe I just wasn't strong enough."
Maria shook her head, her blond curls bouncing around her face. "Not that. I…" She hesitated for a moment. "This is going to sound flaky-"
"Flaky, you? No way," Michael joked.
Maria didn't laugh. "I'm serious," she said. "I think there might be a way I can help you find the ship."
Michael was sure Maria was serious. The same way she was serious about her aromatherapy, and her plant extracts, and everything else. But there was no way she could-
"You don't believe me, do you?" Maria asked, interrupting his thoughts. "Look, it is pretty strange, but a few days ago I realized I have this talent. I can touch an object and get images from it. Like I held Liz's lipstick-and then I saw her at the mall. I saw what she was doing because I was holding her lipstick. I've never tried holding a piece of something and, you know, looking for the whole thing. But it might work."
Huh? Michael thought. What was she talking about?
"Um…" What was he supposed to say? He didn't want to hurt Maria's feelings. Obviously she believed every ridiculous word coming out of her raspberry-colored mouth.
"I'm going to try it. I just want to try it, okay?" she said in a rush.
"Okay," Michael answered. "Do you need some incense? I think Mrs. Pascal has some basil leaves or something we could burn," he said. Maybe if he joked around a little now, it wouldn't be so bad for Maria when whatever she was going to try didn't work.
"I don't need anything except this." She held up the piece of metal and stared at it. "Oh!" She turned back to him. "I get sort of… paralyzed for a few minutes right after I do the seeing-I can't move or talk. So don't call 911 or anything. Try splashing some water on my face. I think that helps me get out faster."
"Carbonated or noncarbonated?" Michael asked.
Maria didn't answer. She closed her eyes and whispered, "Where is the ship?"
Nothing happened. At least nothing that Michael could see. Maria just sat there, still and quiet. Then her eyes started to move under her closed lids.
Michael folded his arms across his chest. What was going on? Was she actually seeing something? That wasn't possible, was it?
Maria's eyes snapped open. "I saw it! I saw the ship!" she exclaimed. "It was-"
She stopped midsentence, her mouth dropping open. Her blue eyes lost their sparkle. Her face became as expressionless as a mask.
Michael felt his stomach tighten as he watched her. She's like a zombie, he thought. She's sitting here breathing and everything, but all the Maria-ness has been sucked out of her.
Water. He needed water. He raced down the hall to the bathroom, grabbed one of the little paper cups from the dispenser, filled it, and ran back. He threw the cupful of water in Maria's face.
Nothing happened. What was he supposed to do now? Maybe he didn't use enough water. He started toward the door, then heard Maria gasp. He turned around in time to see her give a little twitch. Then she looked over at him and smiled a total Maria smile, her eyes bright and alive. Michael felt relief spread through him.