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Isabel gave a real laugh that time. "My mom is absolutely refusing to let me stay home from school tomorrow. At least unless I agree to go to the doctor. So I was wondering if you could pick me up on your way," she said.

Alex didn't bother asking why she couldn't just ride with Max. He didn't care. "I'll be there," he promised.

"Great," she said.

So was the conversation over? Did she want him to talk more? Or would she just be like, "I call to ask him one thing and he doesn't let me off the phone"?

"So, uh, I'll see you in the morning," Isabel said.

She didn't say it in that way that made it clear it was time to say good-bye and hang up. He got the feeling she wasn't quite done, like there was something else she wanted to say.

"Thank you for choosing Alex's Taxi Service," he joked. "Do you want to get to school early or anything? Or-"

"Alex, I don't know how to say this. But I've got to say it. Max says I'm really bad at it. But I have to do it, anyway," she blurted.

"Um, I have no idea what you're talking about," Alex told her.

He heard Isabel take a shaky breath. "I want to apologize. But it's hard to know where to start. If I start back at that night we went miniature golfing, we'll be on the phone forever."

Alex remembered that night. He remembered the way Isabel looked him right in the eye, told him she knew exactly what she wanted, and kissed him. She then proceeded to basically forget he was alive because the next day she met Nikolas.

"Let me just give you the highlights," Isabel continued. "I'm really sorry for the way I acted when I was with Nikolas. Even after he hurt you, I still thought… I don't know what I thought. I guess I wasn't thinking, at least not about anyone but myself."

"Isabel, you don't have-"

"Please just let me finish, okay?" she interrupted. "I was having so much fun that I didn't want to hear you telling me that I was putting myself-and everybody else-in danger. I should have listened to you. If I had, maybe…"

He could hear her fighting not to cry. But he didn't say anything this time. He figured it was better to let her get it out. "Anyway, I'm sorry. Especially for going off on you and saying you were just jealous of Nikolas. I know you were really trying to protect me," she said. "I-I have to go, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."

She hung up before he could accept her apology or say good-bye. Maybe that was a good thing. This way he didn't have to decide if he should tell her the truth. Yes, he told her to stay away from Nikolas because he was sure the guy was going to end up getting Isabel hurt.

But that didn't mean Isabel was wrong about Alex being jealous of Nikolas. Because he was. Pathologically jealous.

Alex reached into his pocket and pulled out a strip of photos that he'd found at a booth in the mall. He and the others had been trying to find Isabel and Nikolas before Valenti found them. Instead he'd come across these pictures of Isabel and Nikolas in the middle of a way too uninhibited make-out session.

He knew he should throw the pictures away. Especially the one where Nikolas was holding a sign that said, Hi, Alex. But he kept carrying them around with him.

Just looking at the pictures set off an explosion of jealousy inside him, which was so totally pathetic. How could he be jealous of a dead guy?

Alex gave a growl of frustration and threw the photos in the kitchen sink. He grabbed a box of matches from the junk drawer and set the pictures on fire.

If only he could burn Isabel's memory of Nikolas.

*** 5 ***

Isabel grabbed her lunch out of her locker and hurried down the hall, head lowered, eyes focused on her feet. All she wanted to do was get out to the quad. Alex would be there. And Max, Michael, Liz, and Maria.

She could feel people staring at her as she scurried along. She used to like being looked at. But not anymore. Now people were looking at her and whispering about Nikolas. She kept hearing his name-Nikolas, Nikolas, Nikolas. Everyone was gossiping about him… and her. Wondering what really happened to him. Trying to guess what the fight he and Isabel had the night he disappeared was about-somehow everyone had heard that lie she told Valenti.

"I bet Isabel killed Nikolas because he was going out with Stacey Scheinin on the side," Isabel heard someone whisper. Then she heard a burst of laughter. She smelled a whiff of gunpowder. Oh, God, no. It was starting again. The image of Nikolas falling to the floor, his eyes wide open and staring.

Isabel shoved her way out the main doors and ran around to the quad. She forced her eyes up and saw Alex, Max, Liz, Maria, and Michael settled in their usual lunchtime spot. The smell of the gunpowder started to fade.

"Hey, Isabel. I heard you're in the market for some new man meat," a guy shouted. "I'm grade-A prime."

Isabel recognized the voice and the attitude. Usually she would have found a way to reduce Kyle Valenti to a writhing puddle of humiliation. But today all she wanted to do was get across the quad to her friends.

Just a few more steps, she told herself. Then she squeezed into the circle next to Alex. Some of the tightness in her chest relaxed, and she could breathe a little more easily.

"Do you want me to go beat up Kyle for you?" Liz asked. "I'd enjoy it, really."

"It's okay," Isabel mumbled. "But thanks." Liz was being so totally incredible. She'd called Isabel every night that Isabel had been out of school, and she and Maria had stopped by one morning with muffins and juice and a ton of magazines.

Neither one of them had even gotten close to saying, "I told you so, I told you Nikolas was going to put us all in danger." Neither one of them had given the slightest hint they were relieved that Nikolas was… was… Isabel shivered. Michael pulled off his jacket and tossed it to her. Typical Michael. Always there for her, without making a big deal out of it.

They had all been there for her-Michael, Liz, Maria. Plus Alex, her human tranquilizer, sitting outside her door hour after hour, talking until he was hoarse. And Max, in total big-brother mode, bossing her around, making sure she at least got out of bed every day.

"What is DuPris doing here?" Alex asked. "Don't they have laws about strange men wandering around talking to us children?"

Isabel glanced over her shoulder. Yeah, there was town wack job Elsevan DuPris. He strolled their way, twirling his walking stick between his palms, then veered off to talk to a group of kids over by the big oak tree.

Almost everyone in Roswell read DuPris's paper, the Astral Projector. But what DuPris didn't seem to realize was that they read it because the stories were hilarious. Isabel always loved it when he did one of his special reports on bloodsucking alien babies.

"If he offers you candy-run," Liz advised.

"I don't like the way he always happens to end up talking to us," Max said.

"Cheese it. Here he comes," Alex said.

Maria giggled. "Did you actually just say cheese it?"

"That I did," Alex answered. "That's my latest list. Food-related expressions. Which you would know if you cared enough to check out my web site."

"Hello, young people," DuPris called as he ambled up to them. "You look like some of the brightest and best of your classmates."

Michael smirked. "Why, aren't you just as sweet as pie," he drawled, imitating DuPris's fakeoid southern accent.

Isabel choked back a laugh. This was the good part about rejoining the outside world. Here she was just a normal girl hanging out with her friends in the quad, a group in the middle of all the other groups. There was nothing more normal than that.

"I'm doing an opinion poll for my little paper," DuPris told them. "If you would be so kind, I'd like you to answer me this question. If you were an alien and you went to our lovely shopping mall, what would you buy?"