"Out of Season"

Part One

By Sister Rose

Disclaimer: The characters of "The O.C." belong to Fox and no infringement on those rights is intended in this fictional work.

Ryan Atwood was glad to take a break when his boss waved him over. Dust from the construction site filled the air and coated his dry throat. He swallowed water from his jug and put it back down before answering the summons.

As he got closer, he could see two other people with Mr. Roberts, two people who looked more familiar as Ryan got closer.

Slightly panicked, he realized it was too late to walk away even as he recognized them and the trap he was in.

He nodded to his boss. "Mr. Roberts," he said.

"Atwood," Mr. Roberts said. "I need you to run an errand for me. I'm going to be talking with Mrs. Cohen for a while."

"Yes, sir," Ryan said, eyes on the ground. It was possible they wouldn't recognize him. It had been a long time. His hard hat covered his hair. He was older, and his face had more lines -- and more scars.

"Ryan Atwood?" said a tenor voice.

Ryan nodded.

"I almost didn't recognize you under the hard hat," the man -- boy, really -- went on.

Ryan looked up. Seth looked just the same as always. He was playing with the straps of a hard hat instead of wearing it, banging it against his knee, twirling it. No skateboard. He wondered where Seth was going to college, whether he still read comic books, whether he still lived in that enormous house with the warm swimming pool and hot tub, just over the ocean. He wished he didn't have to hope that Seth didn't remember him.

"Do you know Ryan?" Mr. Roberts said.

"Sure," Seth said. "It's been a while, though."

"Yes, it has," Ryan said. "It's good to see you, Mrs. Cohen. Mr. Cohen."

Ryan nodded to them. He met Seth's eyes for an instant. They were still brown and full of an emotion Ryan didn't recognize. He looked back at the ground. He knew better than to stare at the suits who came to the site.

"Seth," Seth said.

"Seth," Ryan repeated, trying to make it sound like "Mr. Cohen."

Ryan could feel Mrs. Cohen's blue eyes on him, eyes that matched her expensive blue suit. It had probably cost more than his pickup. He held his body still, trying not to squirm suspiciously under the blue stare.

"Do you know each other?" Mrs. Cohen said.

"Yeah, Mom, remember Ryan? He stayed with us one weekend back when I was 16," Seth said.

Mrs. Cohen was frowning, obviously trying to place Ryan. He hoped she wouldn't remember.

"That was a long time ago, Mrs. Cohen," Ryan said. "Did you need something, Mr. Roberts?"

He turned away from Seth and Mrs. Cohen.

"Yeah, Atwood," Mr. Roberts said. "Would you take the truck and run to the lumber yard? They've got an order waiting."

"Yes, sir. It's good to see you again, Mrs. Cohen," Ryan said. He nodded at Seth to avoid using his name, then toward Mrs. Cohen, took Mr. Roberts' keys and walked away.

Ryan thought he had a clean escape, but then he heard jogging footsteps behind him. No one on a construction site jogged. It could only be Seth.

"So," Seth said. "Hey. So. Great to see you again. Long time and all that. Um. What have you been doing with yourself?"

"Working."

"Working. That's it?" Seth turned around and jogged backward, facing Ryan for this quiz.

"Pretty much," Ryan said, wishing the past hadn't come to visit. "Mr. Roberts hired me a couple of years ago."

He kept walking toward the truck. He could hear his own booted footsteps echoing in his ear bones. He knew Mrs. Cohen was in the construction trailer right now. He pictured her standing in front of Mr. Roberts' metal desk, scattered with blueprints and payables, the slight scent of sawdust in the air, her crisp blue suit at odds with the disarray around her.

"Get rid of him," he saw her saying. "He's a troublemaker. He got my kid drunk and beat up."

Ryan could barely hear Seth talking, peppering him with questions. His own thoughts raced at a speed to rival Seth's words.He knew exactly how replaceable he was. Mr. Roberts had no reason to keep him on if Newport's largest employer didn't want Ryan around.

He tried to focus. Even if Mrs. Cohen didn't demand that Mr. Roberts get rid of him right away, if Ryan offended Seth then Mrs. Cohen or Mr. Roberts found out about it, he could be just as gone. Who would hire him if -- when -- they found out he had been fired at the request of the Newport Group? No one, that was who. Ryan had to please Seth.

"... and I'd love to have coffee and catch up with you," Seth said.

"Sure," Ryan said.

They were at the truck. Ryan stopped, hand on the door.

"So," Seth said. "Tonight?"

"Sure," Ryan said.

"What's your phone number?" Seth said, grabbing his cell out of a pocket that appeared to also hold three pencils, two paper clips, a pen, a Gameboy, a wad of folded papers and a pack of spearmint gum. He flipped the phone open, ready to program in the number.

"I, uh, don't have one," Ryan said.

Seth looked at him a minute, clearly seeing more than Ryan was saying. Ryan remembered that about Seth. It was going to make a conversation with him -- if it happened -- more dangerous.

"What time do you get off?" Seth said. "I'll pick you up."

Ryan hesitated, then said, "Usually by 6."

He glanced over his shoulder at the construction crew. No one was looking, but he knew everyone knew he was talking to Mrs. Cohen's son instead of working.

Seth watched him closely.

"If you don't want to, that's cool," he said. "I just thought it would be nice to catch up."

"No," Ryan said hastily. "It would be good to talk."

He touched the silver door handle, caught himself and pulled his hand back. He put it in his pocket, along with the other one, so they wouldn't get him in trouble. His rough skin caught on the cheap fabric of his shiny pants and he could feel the material pulling. He took his hands back out of his pocket and crossed his arms, putting those wayward hands in his armpits.

"So," Seth said, watching Ryan fidget. "You probably need to take off. I'll catch you later."

"Goodbye," Ryan said.

He got into the truck and started it, but he didn't drive away immediately. He watched Seth walk back toward the construction trailer, dark curls bobbing as if they wanted to take independent flight. He knew talking to Seth was a one-shot.

He wished he could have asked Seth about college and skateboarding, but he knew that when he got back from the lumber yard, Mr. Roberts would have a pink slip ready for him. Ryan wondered how drunk he could get with his final check.

He put the truck in gear and let out the clutch.