Isabel slid a slice of pizza onto her tray, then added a couple of packets of sugar to put on top. Not that using sugar made the pizza edible. She frowned at the layer of oil congealing on top of the cheddar cheese. The cafeteria's pizza sucked.

Okay, maybe she couldn't expect them to serve brick oven. But would it kill them to lose the leftover spaghetti sauce and try out some mozzarella and basil on a crust that wasn't practically as thick as her binder?

'Excuse me, young lady,' a familiar voice drawled behind her. 'I was wondering if you would be so generous as to give me a moment of your time? I'm conducting a little survey for my little paper.'

Isabel didn't turn around. The last thing she needed today was to have a conversation with that big corn dog Elsevan DuPris. It's true that she got a kick out of his little paper, the Astral Projector. She always bought a copy to see if he had another scoop about the bloodsucking alien babies, her faves. But she did not get out a kick out of DuPris.

'Yes, I'm talking to you, young lady, with your hair the color of Dixie sunshine,' DuPris continued. He caught up to her and slid her tray out of her hands. 'Allow me. Now, here's today's question-would you consider having a child with an alien if you found yourself madly in love with one?'

Isabel felt a cold band wrap around her heart. The buffoon had actually hit on a question she'd done a lot of thinking about. Not whether she'd consider having a child with an alien, but whether a human would ever consider having a child with her. She could possibly want to be a mom. Maybe. Someday.

That's part of what made the idea of being with Michael feel so right. They were the same. He understood her in a way that no human ever would.

'I can see it's a difficult question. You just take your time,' DuPris said. He set her tray down in front of the cashier and smoothed out the sleeves of his white suit.

'Actually, it's not difficult at all. I'm not interested in having brats of any kind,' she told him. She thrust her money at the cashier, grabbed her tray, and strode off. Fortunately DuPris's southern-gentleman deal meant he would never go chasing after a lady who'd made it clear she wished to be alone. About halfway across the cafeteria she hesitated. She saw Alex, Maria, and Liz at the table they always sat at when it was too cold to eat in the quad. But did she really want to go over to them?

Alex and Maria wouldn't exactly be psyched to see her right now. Still, if she didn't sit with them today, did that mean she didn't sit with them tomorrow? Did it mean she was out of the group?

The group is whoever you're with, Isabel told herself. But she shot another look over at the usual table. Liz, Maria, and Alex were her real friends-as opposed to Corrine Williams, Doug Highsinger, and the other members of the school elite that she used to spend most of her time hanging with.

Even Tish Okabe, Isabel's shopping buddy and loyal follower, didn't come close to being the kind of friend Alex, Liz, and Maria were. That's because the three of them knew the truth about her. They'd been there for her in situations that would have sent anyone else, even Tish, running away at full speed.

That decided it. Isabel took a sharp right and started toward the table.

'I didn't know that Isabel was, you know, interested in Michael,' she heard Alex say.

They were talking about her! Isabel turned around and slid in between two guys at the table behind her friends. She flashed an evil look at the loser to her left. She could tell he was about to try to speak to her, and she wanted to hear everything Alex was saying.

'They practically grew up in the same house. Mr. and Mrs. Evans call him their third child. I've heard them,' Alex continued. 'I knew Michael and Isabel were close, but I thought it was in that way, not in that other way.'

Poor Alex, Isabel thought, though she was still glad she'd broken up with him. It had to be done. She couldn't keep going out with Alex when every time he kissed her, she ended up thinking about Michael. But she probably could have found a gentler way to do it. Make that definitely.

Isabel blotted the grease off her pizza, then turned her whole attention back to the conversation going on behind her.

'So what are you saying? You think that Michael's the reason Isabel broke up with me?' Alex asked.

'Her attitude toward you did seem to change after we saw Michael's dream,' Maria said reluctantly.

'I don't know if that should make me feel better or worse,' Alex said. 'I guess it's good to know that she didn't start spending a lot of time with me and then decide that I was worthless scum.'

Isabel frowned. She hadn't meant to make Alex feel that way. 'No one could ever think you're worthless scum,' Liz told him. 'It's not possible.'

'Yeah, no one could even think you're really valuable scum,' Maria added. 'You're better than penicillin, even.'

'That's mold, not scum,' Liz corrected.

'Either way makes me feel better,' Alex said.

All three of them laughed, and suddenly Isabel wanted to be over there with them so badly. She grabbed her tray and slowly began to rise to her feet. She didn't want them to catch her at the other table.

'If Isabel's hoping to get Michael now that she du-' Maria stopped mid-sentence. 'Sorry, Alex,' she said quickly. 'Now that she screwed things up with the best guy in the world, she's dreaming.'

Isabel froze. This she absolutely had to hear. She sat back down.

'Michael doesn't want her. Or me,' Maria explained, her voice flat. 'He wants Cameron. He made that clear when I went to the museum this morning.'

Cameron? Isabel thought. The redhead with the buzz cut? Michael must be in post-traumatic shock from the compound.

Well, at least Isabel knew her competition. Neither Maria nor Cameron had a snowball's chance in Hades against her guy-snagging skills. Let the games begin.

***

Max cracked open the door to Ray's bedroom and did a quick Adam check. He was still asleep, his chest rising and falling so slowly, it was almost frightening. But not as frightening as Adam awake.

He knew Adam was deadly. He'd had firsthand evidence, which was why he still couldn't believe Michael was willing to risk all their lives after he'd seen Adam destroy the compound.

He leaned back his head and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He felt as if his brain were pulsing, trying to push its way through his skull. The sensation would probably go away if he'd open himself to the collective consciousness. He'd been blocking the knowledge and sensations of the consciousness for days because he'd needed to focus on getting Michael out of the compound.

Well, Michael was out now, so maybe it was time to stop resisting. The consciousness held the knowledge of everyone on his home planet, living or dead. Maybe somewhere there was an answer to what was wrong with Adam, to why he had seemingly gone from innocent to evil in such a short time. Maybe Max could learn how to help him.

If not, maybe he could at least find out if Adam's powers could be stopped. If… if he could be killed.

Max pulled a breath deep into his lungs and let it out slowly, relaxing his body, relaxing his mind, allowing himself to connect to the consciousness. Ahhh. It felt so good, so right, like sliding into an ocean exactly the same temperature as his body.

The last time he'd connected to the consciousness, he'd been bombarded by scents, images, tastes, and textures and by information, by a rush of facts that overwhelmed him. Now all he felt was the light brush of many auras against his. The auras, they were what formed his ocean. He could feel them supporting him, lifting him the way a wave lifts a swimmer.

He knew he should try to find a way to search for information about dealing with Adam. And he would. In a minute.

The image of Max breaking free from his incubation pod filled his mind, and an instant later he received a rush of emotion from the others, a mix of joy, and pity, and excitement.

Another image appeared-Max's mother teaching him how to drive. Again he felt the reaction of the others- curiosity about the technology of the car, appreciation of the warmth of the relationship between Max and his mother, wonder that one of theirs could experience this with a human.

He felt as if his essence, his spirit, was being discovered and celebrated by all those in the consciousness. The images came faster and faster, with no effort from Max, revealing all the most important moments of his life.

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