Max Evans Weekend

“Max, I really need you to keep stirring this,” Isobel says as soon as Max steps into the kitchen. 

Max dutifully steps up to the chili pot on the stove and takes the wooden spoon from her. 

“Fine,” he grumbles. “But is this sweater alright? I don’t want to look like a nerd today.”

There’s no way she’s going to pass up on an opportunity to tease her brother. 

“Doesn’t matter what sweater you wear. You’ll still look like a nerd.”

“Ha. Thanks a lot.” Max rolls his eyes and pouts over the chili pot. 

Isobel leaves him to it and heads over to the counter to finish up the alien shaped cookies she baked the night before. It’s the day of New Roswell High’s homecoming, and Isobel had volunteered to contribute to the chili cook off and the bake sale, which is why she’s frantically cooking before school starts.

As she squeezes green frosting out of a tube, she goes over the plan for the day in her head. She’s playing in the powder puff game that afternoon before the football game starts, which is after the float parade. After all of that is the dance, which means she is going to have to bring her dress and change at some point after powder puff in the locker room.

She wonders what Max has planned for the day. He’s usually not the kind of guy who likes attending school spirit stuff.

“So, you got a date tonight for the dance?” Isobel asks, her voice teasing.

“You sound like Mom,” Max grumbles. 

“Ouch,” Isobel intones as she focuses on switching frosting tubes and adding little eyes to the cookies.

“Why are you doing all this, Iz? It seems like way too much.” 

It <i>is</i> probably too much, but she wants it that way. If she’s involved in every homecoming event, she can prove to herself that she’s succeeding at pretending to be human. 

“I like being busy,” she settles on. “And your sweater looks great.”

She’s being sincere, and she looks up to see Max’s shoulders relax a fraction.

“Thanks,” he says.

They work in silence for a beat, and then Max speaks up again. 

“Liz is going to homecoming. She texted me about it earlier.” Isobel can tell that Max is trying very hard to sound nonchalant as he turns slightly to look at her.

She purposefully doesn’t laugh, even though his earlier question about his sweater makes way more sense now.

“Well, she’ll need to hang out with someone in the stands during the game. That’s where you can come in,” Isobel says as she points a frosting tube at Max.

He narrows his eyes at her. “Maybe, but I’m sure she’s going to be there with Rosa.”

Max’s eyebrow is raised, as if waiting for Isobel to say something.  

Isobel is quiet at first, biting at her bottom lip in thought. There’s something about Rosa that tangles up her guts and makes her feel off balance. She wouldn’t call them friends, but they’ve hung out way more than just casual acquaintances would. That’s probably why Max is looking at her, hoping she’ll offer to get involved so that Max isn’t third-wheeling. Or maybe Max is hoping she’ll use the mindscape on Rosa, but they usually avoid talking about their alien-ness as much as possible so Isobel doesn't bring it up. 

“I could probably hang out with Rosa,” she finally says. 

Max grins like a total dope and puts his arms out like he’s going to hug her. She shakes her head.

“Absolutely not. Keep stirring!” 

Max laughs and turns back to the pot.