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"You okay?" Alex asked. But he wasn't looking at her. He was checking his watch. Nice to know you care, Isabel thought.

"Yeah," she answered weakly. She'd felt that cough all the way through her body. Her hair was aching from its force.

Alex stood up, but Isabel didn't follow. She wanted to give herself another minute to recover.

"Don't worry, Iz. The girl I'm hooking up with in-" He checked his watch again. "Thirty-four minutes is definitely worthy."

"Who?" Isabel demanded.

Alex grinned at her, his eyes shining. "A college girl. Can you believe that? Alex Manes going out with a college girl. I don't think any of my brothers achieved that when they were in high school."

At least it's not Stacey. Or Maggie. Or Lucinda, Isabel thought. She could not handle the mental picture of any of them with Alex.

"I should go," he told her, backing up a step. "Don't want to be late for my college girl."

"Go." Isabel waved him off with both hands. "Enjoy." She leaned her head back against the wall as she watched him leave, then she slowly rose to her feet.

"Oh, goody, it's almost time to cheer," she muttered, glancing at the hall clock. She headed to the locker room to change into her uniform.

"Hey, Iz," Corrine Williams called as Isabel made her way over to her gym locker. "I hear Alex is going out with some college girl."

"Yeah, we were just talking about that," Isabel answered, trying desperately to sound like her old self. "We both agreed that-other than me-there really isn't a girl in this school who deserves him."

Tish Okabe, Isabel's closest friend on the squad, sent her a semihurt look.

"I didn't mean you," Isabel whispered as she sat down next to Tish on the wooden bench.

"Do you think I, um, might ever have a chance… with Alex?" Tish whispered back.

What did that wormhole do to him? Isabel thought. It had to be more than just a little beauty buff up.

She realized Tish was waiting for an answer. "Sure, you have a chance," Isabel said as she opened her locker. She plucked her cheerleading sweater off its hanger, and it slithered out of her fingers. She reached down and picked it up, then immediately dropped it again.

Isabel flexed her fingers, trying to get rid of the tiny tremor buzzing through them. How much longer do I have? she wondered. How much longer before the akino is at full force?

***

Maria took a peek at Michael out of the corner of her eye, pretending she was still watching the basketball game. He's still totally messed up, she thought. Actually, he seemed even worse than he had right after he discovered the Trevor-DuPris connection.

Something else had happened. Something new. And the king of I-can-handle-my-own-problems wasn't talking. Maria felt like smacking him.

Adam climbed up the bleachers to their row, balancing four big sodas in his hands. Maria and Michael each took one, Michael immediately adding hot sauce from the little packets he always had on him.

"Thanks," Maria murmured, noting that Adam's fingers lingered on Liz's when he handed her her soda, noting that Liz didn't pull away. It had been clear since almost the first moment Adam saw Liz that he was gaga. But lately Maria got the feeling that Liz was getting a little gaga back. Well, maybe not gaga. Maybe not even ga. Still, every once in a while Maria caught a flicker of interest from Liz toward their little Adam.

Maria didn't blame her, although it seemed so wrong that after all Liz and Max had gone through together… she shook her head. There was no point in thinking about that now. Max was a whole other issue.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Lydick?" Michael exploded.

Projection, Maria thought. Yeah, Steve Lydick had missed a shot that should have been a swish, but Michael had yelled like Steve had personally offended him or something.

Maria slid a little closer and put her hand on Michael's arm. It was either that or smack him. He didn't acknowledge the fact that she was touching him, but she felt his muscles relax a little. Sometimes the only comfort Michael would allow was physical. Maria had no problem with touching him, except for the part where she was tortured by wanting to touch him a lot more. She just wished he would talk to her. He wasn't going to start feeling any better if he didn't let whatever was putrefying in him out.

The band started to play, announcing the start of halftime. "Want to go outside and get some air?" she asked Michael. "It smells like a gym in here."

"I want to watch Izzy do her cheer," Michael answered. Keeping focused on the court.

"We have time," Maria urged, giving his arm a little squeeze. "Unless you really need to hear the patriotic songs medley again."

"Nah. You go if you want. I'm going to stay here." He pulled his arm away from her hand. She had to give him points for trying to be a little subtle about it-he did the head-scratch-arm-pull thing. But Maria knew that her touch had started to irritate him.

Maybe I should read one of those books on massaging auras, she thought. That could be a way to covertly do something for Michael. She didn't need to see auras to know that his was seriously out of whack. It probably had one of those purple grief nets. Plus a whole lot of anger splotches.

"Hey, Maria," Liz called over the loud brass solo section of the medley. "I just found out Adam doesn't have a birthday-or, you know, a day he celebrates as his birthday. They didn't give him one in the compound. You're the astrology guru. What do you think it should be?"

Maria was grateful for a little distraction. "Hmmm. How would you describe Adam?" she asked Liz, curious to hear the answer.

Liz studied Adam for a moment, and a blush began to creep up his neck. She better look away before he achieves meltdown, Maria thought.

"I'd say Adam is empathetic, intelligent, and sweet," Liz answered.

Interesting. Liz definitely didn't seem to be ga-ish over Adam. But it did sound like she liked him a lot and like she saw him as someone safe, someone who would never break her heart. Maria could see why that could appeal to Liz right now.

"I hope you're not going to stand for that," Michael told Adam. "Never let a girl call you sweet. It means they think you have no-"

"Don't worry. No one's ever going to call you sweet," Maria told Michael. Although deep down in the core of him, Maria suspected Michael was one of the sweetest people around. No one cared more about the people he loved than Michael, not that he'd admit he loved anybody at all.

"So what am I?" Adam asked.

"I'd say you're a Pisces, a sweet dream boy," Maria answered. "So you could pick any day between February nineteenth and March twentieth."

"When's your birthday, Liz?" Adam said. Michael gave a snort of derision, and Maria gave in to her impulse to smack him.

"May sixteenth," Liz answered. She released her long, dark hair from its ponytail and let it fall around her shoulders.

"I want to be March sixteenth," Adam announced. Maria shot Michael a warning look. He ignored her and rolled his eyes.

"So whipped," Michael muttered, but not loud enough for Adam to hear.

"You are definitely a Sagittarius in one big way," Maria said in his ear. "You're completely tactless."

"You don't even know when my birthday is," Michael shot back.

"December twentieth," Maria said, causing Michael to narrow his eyes at her. "At least that's the day social services chose for you," Maria said, a little too quickly.

"And you know this because?" Michael prodded.

"I asked Max once," Maria answered lamely.

Michael raised his eyebrow, and his mouth twisted into a conceited smile. Maria thought she was going to have to smack him again, but the medley wrapped up, and the cheerleaders trotted onto the polished wood floor of the basketball court.

"Go, Isabel!" Maria cried, clapping.

The cheerleaders launched into a new routine, one that was half what you'd see on a dance floor and half what you'd see during a gymnastics meet. Isabel was perfectly in sync as she did a double back flip, but when she came out of it, Maria couldn't help noticing that she looked exhausted. All of her usual Isabel-goddess-glow was gone.