felt to be in his arms.
She had a few little things she wanted to say to the others, too. It's not like they'd been so totally perfect. Isabel pulled her hair back into a ponytail and frowned at her reflection.
Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn't they all see how incredible it was to have Nikolas around? For all their lives they'd thought they were alone here. Just the three of them. And now there was someone else, someone like them.
Michael and Max should be excited about Nikolas. They should have accepted him as part of their group. And Liz, Maria, and Alex-even Alex-should be happy that Isabel had found one of her own kind to be with. Someone who understood her. Someone who taught her not to be afraid…
Isabel's thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell.
Of course it wasn't Nikolas. Nikolas was not a doorbell kind of guy.
Looking at Alex, Isabel couldn't help thinking about what she saw when she healed him last night. The inside of Alex's mind was like an Isabel shrine. He remembered things about her that
Connecting with Alex convinced her that he was on her side. He was not happy with the whole Nikolas situation. But he would always be there for her.
Even after she let her boyfriend knock him out…
Isabel quickly pushed that thought aside. So Nikolas had a wild side. He was always nice to
Alex shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Was Isabel going to
'So are you here to see me or Max?' Isabel asked softly 'I know everything isn't about me.'
Was that supposed to be an apology? Alex wondered. 'I'm here to see you,' he answered.
Isabel stepped back and swung open the door. 'Do you want some toast or something?'
'You're offering to cook for me? I'm touched,' Alex answered. She does seem like she's trying to say she's sorry, in an Isabel kind of way, he thought.
'Come on.' Isabel led the way into the kitchen. 'My parents and Max already ate, but I think they might have left some muffins.' She picked up a plate covered with crumbs. 'Or maybe not.'
'I'm not really hungry, anyway,' Alex said. His stomach was in knots. He didn't want to have this conversation with Isabel. But he needed to.
'Are you feeling okay? Your head?' Isabel asked.
'Yeah, I'm fine. You do good work.' He sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. Isabel sat across from him. Not next to him, across from him. So don't get too excited about the whole implied-apology thing, he thought. She's hardly throwing herself at your red-haired self.
'Uh, the reason I've called you all here…' Alex took a deep breath. 'It's because I'm worried about you.'
'You don't have-' she began to protest.
'Wait. Let me finish,' Alex said. 'I know you hate being told what to do. But sometimes what people are telling you to do is the right thing to do, you know?'
Isabel stood up and started gathering the dirty dishes off the table. She dropped them in the sink with a clatter. 'So you're here to tell me to stay away from Nikolas.'
'Yeah. I am. Because you're not thinking clearly,' Alex said. 'I know you don't think Valenti is any threat to you and Nikolas because you have your power, but-'
'No. We are not having this conversation. Because that's not what it's about,' Isabel said. She scooped up a handful of silverware and hurled it into the sink.
'What is it about, then?' Alex asked.
'It's about that you're jealous. It's about that you see that there is something going on between me and Nikolas, and it's driving you crazy,' Isabel answered. She jerked on the hot water and sent it splashing over the dishes.
'I admit that,' Alex told her. What was the point of denying it? It was obvious. 'But what about your brother? What about Michael? What about Liz and Maria? They have no reason to be jealous, and they all think Nikolas is putting you in danger. No, not just you-all of us.'
Isabel snatched up one of the dishes and scrubbed it furiously. 'I want you to leave,' she said, without turning around to look at him.
'Fine,' Alex said. 'But you have to know this is it. I go now, I'm gone. I'm not going to come running back if you change your mind.'
'I can live with that,' Isabel answered.
'So do you feel any better?' Maria asked.
Liz glanced over at Alex. She knew Maria thought dragging Alex out for ice cream would cheer him up. But
'Not really,' Alex admitted.
Maria turned to Liz. 'What do you think? More M amp;M's?'
'Umm. No, I think the problem is the sprinkles. He needs the rainbow ones, not the chocolate ones,' Liz answered. 'Rainbow equals happy, right?'
'Right. I'll take care of it.' Maria jumped up and snatched Alex's sundae off the table. She hurried over to the counter.
Liz took a bite of her frozen yogurt. She was basically stalling. She was hoping she'd come up with some great thing to say to Alex about the whole Isabel sitch. But there wasn't anything. Liz knew that. It's not like anybody had been able to say anything that made her feel better about Max wanting to be
'Those rainbow sprinkles don't taste like anything,' Alex mumbled.
'Yeah. They look like they should taste great. Like they should just explode in your mouth with all these flavors,' Liz agreed. 'Maybe you could do one of your lists on that, on food that tastes totally different than you'd expect it to.'
'Maybe.' Alex got really interested in smoothing out all the wrinkles in his paper napkin.
'Hey, I'm sorry.' Liz patted his arm as if he were a puppy or something, which made her feel like her
Liz definitely had times where she just wanted to curl up under the covers, listen to some really sad songs about love gone bad, and think of Max. When she was in that kind of mood, she didn't want anyone trying to make her feel better.
She leaned closer to Alex. 'I know ice cream isn't going to help, either,' she whispered. 'But it makes Maria feel better to do something for you.'
Maria had force-fed Liz the full menu of comfort food after Max told her he wanted to be
Which just proved what an amazing friend Maria was. Maria was a total natural food fanatic. She refused to eat anything with preservatives, additives, or artificial colors. She never ate meat or eggs or any dairy products. But when her friends were feeling blue, Maria made it her job to get them the food she thought would make them feel better. Even if she was dying to stuff them full of blue-green algae, wheat grass, and tofu.
Maria hurried back over with Alex's new and improved sundae. She watched him intently as he took a bite, then shook her head. 'It's not working. He doesn't look any happier,' she said. 'I have a theory about why. Alex eats junk food three meals a day, so junk food doesn't give him that little boost it gives most people.'