But she wasn't an alien. She had no powers. She couldn't break herself into molecules without help.
I've got to try, she decided. She remembered how Max had discovered he could scatter his molecules. He'd been connected to the consciousness, and the beings had been exploring his memories. He'd said he'd felt like he was dissolving, and then it happened-his body had began to disappear as the molecules flew apart.
Liz conjured up the first memory that came to her-Max healing her. She envisioned throwing the memory out into the universe, as far away from her body as she could get it. Then she remembered kissing Rosa's cool cheek as she lay in her coffin, the smell of her sister's too heavy mortuary makeup strong in Liz's nostrils. She threw that out, too.
She didn't hold back anything. She had no shame. No pride. No secrets. She flung out the memory of getting her period for the first time-standing in the shower and thinking for a minute that she had some horrible disease and that a doctor was going to have to look at her down there. She flung out the memory of lying to her mama about stealing a little toy truck from a toy store when she was four. She let go of every thought she'd had about Max, good and bad. Every fantasy she'd had about him, even the ones she could hardly believe had come out of her own mind.
Liz released the memory of Maria's kitten scratching her lip when Liz was using a piece of string to play with it. She released the raw fury at her papa that she was shocked to find still had a place in her heart.
Her body began to feel lighter. She didn't lift her head to see if anything was happening. She kept calling up the memories, then letting them go. Calling them up, letting them go. Feeling the power of gravity release her. Feeling her heart stop beating. Feeling her lungs stop taking in air.
And then blackness.
And then silvery light.
Liz didn't even know how she was seeing the light. For she had no eyes. No body. No way to sense anything. But somehow she was experiencing silvery light.
The light shattered into silvery splinters, and Liz realized they were stars. She was surrounded by them.
Maybe we're the binary pair we saw that night out in the desert. Liz didn't know how she heard the words, any more than she knew how she was the stars. But she knew the words were from Max.
The closest star expanded and took on a new shape. Max. A shining silver Max. He reached out and touched her face with his glittery fingers, and she realized she did have a body after all, or at least she did now-a body like his, more glow than substance.
She pulled him to her, embraced him, never wanting to let him go. For an instant their bodies became one blinding star, then separated into the glowing forms again.
We need to get back. The others might need us, Max communicated soundlessly.
Liz laughed, feeling the laughter but not hearing it. You're still Mr. Responsible. It's one-one of the many-things I love about you.
Yeah, I know, Max communicated. I know a lot of things now. We're going to have to… talk about those fantasies you've been having.
Max took her hand. He pointed at a small blue ball far below them. Earth. Then Liz felt her molecules dissolve again, dissolve and mix with Max's.
"Oh, my God! Look!" Maria cried over the sound of the wormhole. "Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?"
"Max!" Isabel exclaimed.
"I guess I am!" Maria shouted. This was… phenomenal. That was the only word for it. Max and Liz had teleported into the museum, arms wrapped around each other, looking so happy, so love struck, that they almost glowed. Without letting go of each other, they stumbled toward the wall where Maria and the others had strapped themselves. They squeezed in between Maria and Isabel.
Maria grabbed Liz around the waist and held on tight to keep her from being sucked into the hole. She snagged a piece of Max's shirt with her other hand, and he smiled at her, his eyes bright and alert and Max-ified.
"Hi, everyone," he yelled.
"You guys are late. We've pretty much done everything without you," Michael shouted. Even through the noise Maria could hear the raw relief in his voice.
"We're not going to be able to keep the hole open much longer," Trevor shouted.
Maria felt like Trevor had picked up a baseball bat and bashed her over the head with it. The joy at seeing Max back, whole and just him, gushed out of her like blood from a wound. She was still happy for him and Liz in an intellectual sort of way. Ecstatic, really, even though she couldn't feel the ecstasy right now.
How could she? Michael was going to leave. And any chance Maria had of ever experiencing that Max-and-Liz kind of love was going with him. Maria knew she'd never love anyone else the way she loved Michael. It was impossible.
"Isabel?" Trevor called out. "Are you coming?"
Isabel wrapped her arms tighter around Max, her fingers brushing Maria's.
"I can't," she answered. "My family is here. My whole family." She smiled at Maria. "I can't leave."
Trevor unfastened the straps holding him to the wall. He wrapped one of them around his fist to keep him from flying into the wormhole immediately.
"Isabel, I… I'll come back. I don't know how long it will take, but I promise I will."
"Yeah," Michael shouted. He unfastened his straps and grabbed onto Trevors shoulder. "Let's go!"
That's it? Maria thought. That's it? He said one word to all of us. One yeah. And that's it?
She knew she should feel angry. But she didn't feel anything. She was sure she'd never feel anything ever again. How could she? Her heart was broken.
THIRTEEN
Michael tightened his grip on Trevor's shoulder. This was it. He was going home. He was glad there wasn't time for a lot of good-bye bull. It wasn't as if Max wouldn't know that Michael was happy he made it out alive. He didn't have to make some speech. It wasn't as if Izzy wouldn't know that he'd think about her every day if he didn't say it. It wasn't as if Maria-
He didn't intend to do it, but Michael turned his head, wanting just one more look. His eyes met Maria's, and even though he hadn't touched her, hadn't gotten close to touching her, a connection formed between them instantly.
Images of Maria shot into him with the impact of bullets. Maria telling him how she loved lavender crayons when she was a little girl. Maria fiercely demanding that Trevor tell her what he'd done to her brother. Maria helping Michael move from one foster home to another, whether he wanted her to or not. Maria snorting soda out her nose during the part of Evil Dead 2 where the guy breaks dishes over his own head. Maria crying while watching Starman. Maria being tortured by Elsevan DuPris. Maria asleep in the front seat of his car, raspberry lips gently parted.
They're all roots, Michael realized. Each memory of Maria was a root she'd put down in his body. He tried to turn his head, tried to break the connection that had begun when his eyes met hers. But he couldn't. The images rushed on, invading all his senses now. With the smell of her pillow. With the smell of her hair. With the sound of her ridiculous giggle. With the taste of icing licked off her finger. With the soft, wet heat of her mouth. With the strength of her arms when she pulled him to her and held him tight.
Using all his energy, Michael forced his eyes shut. But he could still see Maria looking at him. Maria looking at him as if he was her entire universe.