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On the Road: Day Two
His eyes snapped open when he felt Ava’s hand on him, coaxing him into readiness.
He awoke to the sight of a dingy motel ceiling and the stale scent of sex. Without turning, he knew that Lonnie and Rath had already passed out on the other bed and that Ava wanted to talk with him privately.
She always waited until the others were asleep to tell him anything important. He kept his voice low, not wanting to wake them up either.
“Whattaya want, Ave?”
She didn’t answer right away. Her hand pulled away when he was fully hard, and he didn’t move as she rolled on top of him, taking him into herself and starting a rhythm both familiar and … and wrong.
He didn’t say anything, didn’t push her away, but for the first time, he wanted to.
She leaned down so that her lips were right next to his ear. “Ya gonna tell me what’s goin’ on wit’ ya?” she whispered, her hair tickling his cheek.
“Not here,” he told her, and saw her nod. She began to pull away, but he knew she wanted this so he held her to him. “Keep goin’,” he told her, and was rewarded by the flash of white teeth in the dim light.
They were silent for the next few minutes, as she rocked against him and leaned over him. He knew what she was asking for, and she came as he licked and lightly bit at her nipples, just as she liked.
She was used to him holding out; he considered it a point of pride never to come before whoever it was he was fucking. But when he still hadn’t climaxed a minute or so after she did, she smirked a little and started to ride him again, happily anticipating a second orgasm.
Zan frowned, willing his body to just get on with it already.
He’d never had this problem before. He could hold out, sure, but it had always been something he could control. Now, though he had no trouble staying hard, he felt weird, like he couldn’t ... finish.
What the hell?
Desperately he closed his eyes and let the image of another girl fill his mind. The breasts under his hands felt wrong, so he let go of them to thrust his fingers between her legs instead. Almost instinctively he imagined long dark hair falling down to brush the tops of his thighs, and when he felt wet muscles tightening around him this time he came too, violently, his hips pushing up off the bed and fireworks exploding behind his eyes.
“Oh, god ...”
He relaxed slowly, muscle by muscle, keeping his eyes closed until he felt cool air over him. He watched Ava watch him as he came down, and it felt hazy, like the air was charged around them.
After a while she gestured with her head and he nodded. Still trying to catch his breath, he rolled off his side of the bed even as she rolled off of hers, and they dressed silently before heading outside.
There was an old picnic bench next to the small motel playground, and Zan sat down and tilted his head back, letting the cool night air dry his sweat. He didn’t look at Ava but he left her enough room so she could sit down too.
“Talk ta me, Zan,” she said, quietly.
He hesitated, but he heard what she was saying and she sounded like she meant it. She wanted to know what was up, and she deserved an explanation.
“It’s dese dreams,” he started, and found he didn’t know how to explain after all. He turned to look at her, unaccountably relieved that she didn’t look pissed. He didn’t think he could handle a temper tantrum right then.
“It’s her. Cherry. She does sumthin’ for ya,” she guessed.
Zan liked Ava a lot more when Rath and Lonnie weren’t around. She seemed more sure of herself when it was just the two of them, and she always gave better advice. Now he took a chance and nodded. “I don’ unnerstand it, but … yeah.”
“Lemme guess. Back in dere – and don’ get me wrong, you were great ‘n all, but back in dere,” she said, jerking her head towards the door of their room, “you was tense, and not da right way. What was it, ya felt like you was cheatin’ on ‘er, or sumthin’?”
He sat up, startled. That was exactly it. He felt like he was fucking the wrong girl, even though he’d always assumed the ‘right’ one didn’t exist and hey, the one he was fucking was, like, his wife or … or something.
Ava rolled her eyes. “An’ anothah one bites da dust,” she pretended to mourn, and she grinned despite herself.
Zan looked a little surprised. “You okay wit’ dis?”
She shrugged. “We ain’t got some kinda love deal goin’ on here, Zan. Yer a real good fuck and we’re good togethah, but if you kin find sumthin’ – you know, better for ya – go fer it. Just don’ jerk me aroun’ or nuthin’, and we be cool.”
She wasn’t being completely honest, he knew. He’d always known she was more hung up on him than he was on her. But she was being a damn good sport about this and he appreciated it.
Zan let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, and impulsively pulled her into a tight hug. “Thanks, Ave,” he said, real quiet, and both of them were glad they weren’t looking at the other when he did, because neither were used to him saying it.
“Hey, I got yer back, you know dat,” she said, and he reluctantly let go.
“We still tight?” he asked, just to be sure. His voice didn’t sound nervous, but he was. He didn’t know what he’d do without her.
“Tightest. So,” she said, getting more serious, “whattaya hopin’ for here, Zan? Think yer just gonna show up and she’ll fall in yer arms or sumthin’?”
He stared moodily into the night, his customary cockiness completely gone. “I dunno. Ave –” But he stopped there, unsure what to tell her. Because that’s exactly what he had been thinking, and he knew it was dumb.
“What, Zan?”
“She knows me, but it’s like she don’. She knows what I look like, and she’s real comf’table wit me bein’ alien an’ all, but it’s like she thinks I’s someone else. She thinks my name is Max or sumthin’, an’ she thinks we, like, grew up togethah.”
When Ava didn’t respond right away, Zan turned to look at her, and he was shocked at her expression. It was one of wonder.
“Zan,” she breathed, eyes wide. “Ya’ think … maybe … well, ya’ remember what Cal said? Last time, ‘fore he left?”
Zan thought back. They hadn’t seen Cal in a long time. Not that they’d seen much of him growing up, but he’d checked in once or twice to drop off cash when they were younger. When they got older, though, and started taking care of themselves, he’d stopped coming around so much.
What Zan remembered now was the way Cal had studied Lonnie and Rath clowning around, shaking his head and talking to himself. He’d said something about how at least he knew who were the real Royal Four and who were the back-ups – no, he used another word, and Zan and Ava had talked about it, argued over what it meant with Rath and Lonnie …
“Dupes,” Zan said suddenly, putting it together, and Ava nodded, looking a little overwhelmed but kind of proud that she'd put it together. “Ya think dis Max guy’s my dupe? And she’s … she’s hot on ‘im?”
Ava shrugged as diplomatically as she could. “Maybe. We still goin’?”
“Damn straight, we still goin’,” he said, feeling his disappointment turn into something more determined. “If she’s his, she’ll jus’ hafta say so to my face, and if she’s not … or if she ain’t happy wit’ him …” his voice trailed off, but Ava didn’t doubt that he meant it.
She grinned. It was kinda fun watching Zan go all crusader-like. He didn’t do it nearly often enough, and she always got a kick when he did. Feeling the change in the air between them, she stood up, dropped a kiss on his forehead and held out her hand. “C’mon,” she said. “Let’s get sumthin’ ta eat. Man can’t go stealin’ girls on a empty stomach now, can ‘e?”
Zan laughed and took her hand. With no one to watch, he let her lead him, and he looked younger than anyone back in the ‘hood would believe. Still a little giddy with relief, he let her use her powers to dry their sweat and clean them up so they could check out the 24-hour diner on the other side of the motel with some dignity.
And when she pinched his ass, his eyes lit with mischief and he chased after her, tickling her mercilessly in the grass when he caught her.
Lonnie watched them goof around from deep in the shadows of some nearby trees.
Shaking her head, she made her way back to the motel room where she stripped and climbed back into bed beside Rath. Mumbling incoherently, he pulled her to him, anchoring his hands firmly around her chest and nuzzling the back of her neck before falling still again.
She didn’t sleep. When she heard Zan and Ava coming back to the room with take-out bags for all of them, she got up to claim some breakfast for herself and to watch her brother.
Zan caught on some time in the late afternoon, back at the wheel while Ava and Rath napped. Quietly, so he didn’t wake them up, he finally asked, “Wassup?”
“I think I should be askin’ you that, bro,” she answered just as quietly.
He didn’t respond right away. When he did, he had turned back to the road and he missed the look on her face. “I dunno,” he told her, honestly. “But I want her, Lon.”
They both knew who he was talking about.
“And when ya’ get ‘er?” She spoke with full confidence that he would. “What then?”
“Then … things’re gonna change.” His eyes flicked up and held hers steadily in the rear view mirror.
She just nodded. That’s what she thought.
<>
That night Zan found Liz on some kind of rooftop balcony. A bunch of lit candles
created a warm glow around her and she was sitting on a sleeping bag, looking
up at the stars.
He wondered if she knew how much fun a little candle wax could be. Or for that matter, sleeping two to a sleeping bag – and by sleeping, he meant fucking. He walked towards her silently but confidently.
“I don’t know why I’m torturing myself like this,” she said suddenly, not looking at him.
Torture? He could show her the right kind of torture ... his first instinct was to pull her onto his lap and just get down to business, but then he remembered what Ava had said and held back. He needed to find out more about the Roswell situation. So, feeling a little cheated, he reined in that impulse and sat down next to her instead.
“Whattaya mean?” he prodded.
“I mean, I’m just torturing myself by imagining you here. I know we can’t be together. Doing this, re-creating you like this, making up a version of you that I can be with, that isn’t going to leave me to follow some damn alien destiny ... it only gives me hope,” she said, but she said it so bleakly it sounded like she was saying something very different. “It’s not worth it. What if I forget you’re just a dream and I do something stupid when I’m awake? I couldn’t live with knowing they died because of me.”
He looked at her, startled. What?
“It just sucks, to know what could’ve been, and how happy we would’ve been, and not be able to share it with anyone … or tell anyone …”
She sounded sad, like she was already grieving these people, whoever they were, and he didn’t know what to do. The Liz he’d met before was fun and giggly and wanted to play. She made him want to play. What happened to her?
More importantly, what was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t just turn around and head back to New York because she wasn’t in the mood; he had to see this through. And that meant that no matter what happened here, he still had to find out what she knew.
All of these thoughts flew ran through his head in something less than a second. She didn’t even notice that he hesitated before speaking.
“Tell me.”
She looked at him then, and he caught his breath. She looked real mysterious, like part of her was hidden away, but at the same time he felt like he could see everything in her eyes … everything … he could drown in all that emotion, all that feeling …
He blinked to clear his head, realizing that she was studying him back.
“You know,” she said, haltingly, “I almost feel as though I could tell you … and really, it wouldn’t matter, would it? It’s not like I’m really telling anyone for real.”
He tried to look encouraging, and suspected that he only looked like an idiot. But it worked, and they just sat there as he listened and she told her story. He heard all about how his dupe’s future self came back and fucked her over, and he marveled that she hadn’t fallen apart more than she did.
Zan knew all about people who were supposed to take care of you but just messed up your life even more. He’d never known anyone who just wanted him for him, who made him feel good for real. In the long run, people usually made him feel like shit, usually the people who went out of their way to make him feel important to begin with. Except maybe Ava, but even Ava had baggage. Sometimes he resented that she knew him so well and owned so much of him, even though he considered her his only real friend and knew she deserved better. Hell, sometimes he even resented that, because it was the only thing keeping him from taking off on his own.
Liz talked for a long time, and he learned a lot about her without really learning much that made sense. He’d have to come back with some more specific questions later. For now, he’d just listen. He could do that. How hard could it be?
She leaned against him as she talked, and he wrapped his arms around her, lifting his hand every now and then to stroke her hair. After a while, she stopped talking and just let him hold her, and together they watched the night sky change over New Mexico.
He’d never seen stars like that before, in dreams or in real life, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of them any more than he could bring himself to leave. Not even when she fell asleep in her own dream and all he was doing was holding her and listening to her dream self breathe.
The thing was, he didn’t feel cheated anymore. The silence wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. In fact, he thought, it was pretty damn good.
“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, trying not to wake her up on any level. “I's so screwed.”
But he didn't sound too upset about it.
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