Disclaimer: All characters, places, etc are property of Josh Schwarz and Warner Bros.
Warning: This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it.
A/n: I started writing this story quite a while ago and wanted to get it finished before I started posting, but have completely lost all inspiration so figured I might as well put it out there. It's set in season one, a couple of weeks after "The Proposal". Admittedly, I am taking liberties with the time scale, and pretending that Julie and Caleb's wedding is more than two weeks away. More like two months. Plus there's no Theresa. I've rated it Pg-13, but if at any point you have a complaint Please Tell Me. I don't need another story being taken down (grrrr). Oh yeah, and I couldn't decide which tense to right it in, so I thought I'd mix them up. I think it kinda works. Am attempting to put in page breaks and, yay, new title!
"And in case you haven't noticed, and in case you haven't heard it's just me against the world. And the world is winning." -Halo Friendlies
Seth knows it will be one of those days.
It reminds him of what they said in that tennis movie they saw last week (the one that made Marissa cry because it had an overly slushy, totally predictable ending) about things just not seeming quite right.
It's small, silly things. The way Captain Oats has fallen over on his side when Seth wakes, and Seth knows he couldn't have deliberately left him like that because it looks uncomfortable and undignified and not so nice for a horse.
Or the fact that his vintage Coca Cola t-shirt is in the laundry, and although it isn't his favourite t-shirt he just felt like it should be clean and dry and ready for him to wear, not screwed up in a dirty pile somewhere and definitely unwearable, if what he remembers spilling down it last week is any indication.
And there isn't any cereal left in the box because he'd snagged a midnight snack whilst playing Playstation when he couldn't sleep, and Ryan has left early for school with Marissa without bothering to tell him, and his Dad can't take him to school because he has an important meeting, which means Seth will be extraordinarily late if he doesn't, like, run all the way there, and Seth's never been so good with the running.
"Why don't you take the bus?"
Seth raises his eyebrows in obvious disbelief.
"Dad, does the bus even go to Harbour? I mean, I've been going there, what, three years now, or whatever, and I don't believe I've ever seen a bus in the parking lot. Harbour doesn't need a bus. Buses are for poor, delinquent, normal people who don't have millionaire parents to buy them soft tops, SUVs and motorcycles, therefore making them not in need of buses."
Sandy, a cup of coffee halfway to his lips, the other hand holding the morning paper, grins.
"Well. Aren't you glad we didn't buy you a car?"
Seth calls Summer for a ride.
Summer looks beautiful.
He can't stop the way his heart still lifts slightly at the sight of her. He guesses it must be programmed into his natural bodily functions or something, because his heart has never stopped lifting, even after the endless time spent making out became endless time spent talking and laughing and less and less touching and kissing until the dates were no longer really dates but hanging out at the movies and the mall and the Crab Shack and the pool house and it was almost as if he'd never loved her at all.
He knows this isn't true, now, as he looks at her in the morning sun -hair, clothes, makeup perfect- that he did love her, for a long time, too long perhaps, and his heart will never stop lifting, but it lifts now in companionship and friendship as opposed to lust and love. Seth thinks he likes it better this way, although he finds it hard to remember what it was like before anyway, so he supposes it doesn't really matter that much.
He was always like this.
Quick to adapt, to change, to move with the motions. He can barely remember his old life now, what he likes to call (when he bothers to call it anything) his 'pre-Ryan life'. He doesn't really remember the water polo team peeing in his shoes or the angry fistfights or the mutters of "queer". Life is 'post-Ryan' now. And life post-Ryan is good.
As they pull into the parking lot, Seth thinks maybe he's forgotten the weird feeling he had when he woke up. So what if he knocked Captain Oats over before he went to bed? So what if Ryan didn't wait for him? It doesn't matter so much in the grand scheme of things, not as if, say, they suddenly announced an asteroid was about wipe out California. Now that might be a problem. But as far as Seth knows, no asteroid is about to pummel the O.C. into a dead, barren wasteland (or would that be a molten lava wasteland?) so he thinks he can pretty much rest easy.
He can't, but he doesn't realise this until he and Summer have parted ways, and by then it's too late to call her back and he is startlingly, terrifyingly alone.
Ryan isn't quite sure what sparked such a stunningly bad mood, but everything this morning is pissing him off.
Marissa is pissing him off.
She keeps going on about how much she hates living with her mom again, even though Ryan can't do anything about it. Every now and then she'll stop and give him this wounded look and he says something vaguely sympathetic and she'll continue about just how Unfair her life is.
Seth's pissing him off.
This is a pretty spectacular feat, as Seth is not even in the car with them, but if he was then Ryan wouldn't have to listen to Marissa because Seth would be talking a mile a minute instead, and Marissa wouldn't be able to get a word in edge ways. He ponders the fact that if Seth really were in the car with them, then he would probably piss Ryan off anyway because his incessant chatter would be getting on Ryan's nerves. Go figure.
When Ryan gets to school, the whole building just seems to piss him off, not to mention the people in it, and he seriously considers just skipping school for the day. But then he imagines how disappointed Sandy and Kirsten would be if they ever found out. This pisses him off most of all.
He dutifully walks Marissa to her locker and brushes a strand of hair affectionately from her face, trying to tell himself that it isn't her fault she's had to move back in with her heinous mother and that he's the only one she can talk to about it.
She smiles and leans toward him, brushing his lips with her own.
"Meet me for lunch?" she asks, and he nods, partly because she expects him to, and partly because he thinks maybe he can take her mind off her mom and they can talk about something, anything, which doesn't make her words blur into one, incessant stream of chatter that he has learned to tune out.
He reaches homeroom and immediately notices that Seth isn't there, and finds that that really pisses him off. He questions vaguely where he can be, but when Seth stumbles in two minutes after the bell rings, his books clutched slightly awkwardly under one arm, he refuses to meet Ryan's eye and Ryan wonders if Seth is mad about this morning, which just serves to piss to him off even more.
Seth shoots out of his chair as soon as the bell goes, and Ryan notices the slight lurch as he stands up too quickly but thinks nothing of it, too intent on brooding over the fact that Seth shouldn't be mad at him, he should be mad at Seth, although he can't quite think of a good reason why.
He drifts through his classes, participating where necessary, but mostly just being quiet, the way he always is. He meets Marissa for lunch and they eat their sandwiches and talk about throwing a beach party, until Marissa comments bitterly how her mom "would just love that" and it's back to the incessant loop and he's tuning her out and wishing he could be anywhere but here.
And then he sees Seth.
Seth is alone, and he is walking slightly funny. Almost as if he's got a limp. But Ryan was pretty sure Seth didn't have a limp when they went to bed last night. He's pretty sure he would have noticed a limp. He notices most things, like the fact that Seth isn't wearing his bag strap across his chest, but hanging it from one shoulder so that it bangs his knees as he walks, and his books are still tucked under his arm, not hugged in both the way they usually are. He notices, too, that Seth seems kind of nervous, his eyes darting around as if looking for something.
And then he starts to get a sick, suspicious feeling in his stomach.
Here's the thing with Ryan. He has a bit of a hero complex.
He likes to save people. Likes to protect them. He wants to protect Marissa. He's wanted to protect her since she told him she was angry when she took him and Seth to Kirsten's model home. Since she looked so uncomfortable when Seth informed her that no, she had never done anything to him, never said anything to him, ever. Since he saw her eyes filled with shock and tears as her dad borrowed money from Kirsten. But mostly since he saw her passed out in her own driveway, abandoned by her friends, alone. He wants to protect her from herself.
Wanting to protect Marissa isn't like wanting to protect Seth.
He doesn't want to protect Seth from himself. He doesn't need to protect Seth from himself.
He needs to protect Seth from the world.
He wants to punch anyone who's ever laughed at Seth, who's ever shoved him or ignored him or called him queer. Seth is special, even if Ryan is the only one who can see it. Seth is better than anyone he has ever known, worth ten of anyone at Harbour, anyone in Newport. Seth is extraordinary.
Seth is the only person Ryan has ever known that has looked at him without judging him. Right from the very start, when he offered him his stupid game pad, he never judged. Just looked, accepted and moved on. Seth is the most accepting, forgiving person in the world.
So when Ryan recognises the slight limp that he hasn't seen for months now, the stiff movement of his body, the awkward way Seth holds himself, he feels the sickness turn to a sudden, white hot flash of rage and he is on his feet, calling Seth's name through the lunch crowd, Marissa abandoned behind him.
He sees Seth stiffen, almost imperceptibly, but Ryan can read Seth each and every way, and he knows that Seth knows it's Ryan yet is still quickening his pace.
Almost as if Ryan is the one he is afraid of.
Seth Cohen didn't like his life.
It hadn't always been this way…oh wait a minute, it pretty much had. Seth had always been bullied, always been made fun of, always been alone. He learned to deal with it. Nothing to it really.
Then Ryan came along and suddenly Seth had a friend.
And not just any friend, but a tough, buff, butt-kicking friend who pretty much went around hitting anyone who was mean to Seth (which was pretty cool, considering they'd only known each other for, like, five minutes) and suddenly everyone was not so mean. Suddenly there were girls and there was Summer, the girl he'd liked before he liked girls, and everything was peachy. Post-Ryan. Batman and Robin. Ketchup and Eggs. Kitana and Mileena (except not girls, and not, uh, hating each other, so then again maybe not so Kitana and Mileena. Hmm.) Anyway, the point was life got better. Seth was no longer (too much of) a social outcast.
So what he couldn't figure out was, what had changed.
Sure, he and Summer broke up (if you could call it that. It was more a sort of slow ebbing that finally just…disappeared) but they were still friends, they still hung out. It wasn't as if she'd started ignoring him again or calling him names. It wasn't like before.
And yet it was. Because his ribs hurt with every breath due to a few well-aimed punches and under his sweater his shirt was all dirty due to lying face up in the mud whilst some jock decided to use his stomach as a football.
And man that hurt.
Seth wasn't really that wild about lunch hour. Pre-Ryan he used to spend it hiding in the bathroom, avoiding the wrath of scary football and water polo players. Post-Ryan he'd spent it, well, with Ryan, until Ryan had become RyanandMarissa and Seth had (eventually) become SethandSummer and then it was spent making out. A lot.
But now. Now Ryan was still RyanandMarissa but Seth was no longer SethandSummer and there wasn't any Anna and Seth wasn't entirely sure what to do.
What he did know to do was not go near the football or water polo players as he didn't particularly want a reprise of that morning's pretty display. Not as pretty as the fireworks at Disneyland, but still, he was sure the football/water polo players must have enjoyed it.
What he also knew was to stay away from Ryan, because Ryan could spot the evidence of a fight at, like, a thousand metres, and Seth really didn't want Ryan to know the other kids were beating on him again. It was bad enough that Seth couldn't stand up for himself, but having to have Ryan stand up on his behalf? La-me. Not that he'd complained in the past, of course, but still. Then again, he didn't think Robin minded so much when Batman stood up for him. They pretty much watched each other's backs. Except for that one thing with Poison Ivy, but that was the film, which totally sucked. He didn't really think George Clooney had the right edge for Batman. Val? Yes. Micheal? Definitely. George? Nuh uh. He was just too smiley. And then there was that thing with Alicia Silverstone. What was that all about? 'Cause, really, if you're gonna have Batgirl-
"Seth!"
Oh Crap.
Ryan radar was on, and it sounded like he was angry. Or suspicious. Or maybe a bit of both.
Trying surreptitiously to quicken his steps without looking like he heard, Seth began to head towards the east entrance, where perhaps he could escape to the bathroom. Or not. The library then. There was always studying to do, though Seth did prefer to leave that until the last minute, where possible. Still, a little studying at lunch couldn't do much harm, could it? Perhaps he could find Summer. If there was one thing he knew about Summer it was that she was always looking for someone to study with. Preferably someone cute with loads of money, but oh well, Seth would have to-
"Hey man, why'd you run away? Didn't you hear me calling?"
Seth forced himself not to grimace, and instead turned around with a winning smile, sweeping his book-laden arm towards Ryan in a grand gesture.
"Ryan, my main man. How was lunch with Marissa? You guys looked pretty cosy? She still upset about her mom? I was just going to the library to study, speaking of which, have you seen Summer? I was gonna ask for her fair company, if, you know, she'll be seen with me in public. No? Okay then, gotta jet. Later, dude."
Smooth, smooth talking, Cohen.
"Seth, wait."
Ryan put a hand on his shoulder, effectively hampering his speedy exit.
Damn.
"I wanted to talk to you," Ryan said. He had that serious look in his eyes, and Seth really hated that look.
"What was up this morning? You were really late."
"I had to walk," Seth lied. "I thought Dad would give me a lift, but, uh, not happening so I had to walk and I was late. Sorry I ran outta there so fast, man, but you know how I love trigonometry."
He wasn't buying it. So totally not buying it.
"Marissa said Summer gave you ride."
Busted.
"Uh, she did, but I had to go back because I left my book for said trig class on the kitchen table, so I went home for it. Hence, I was late."
Oh, he really wasn't buying it.
Ryan gave a small sigh and took a step closer.
"What's going on, Seth?"
Seth felt the very distinct beginning of a light sweat break out across his upper lip.
"Nothing, absolutely nothing. Except my need to be in the library. Studying. With Summer. So, if you see her, yeah. Gotta go."
Ryan let him leave this time, and Seth breathed a sigh of relief.
The relief didn't last long when he turned the corner and ran headlong into the captain of the water polo team.
Ryan knows something is going on.
He hates it when Seth lies to him. Seth's afraid. Of what? Him?
Ryan runs a frustrated hand through his hair.
How can he help Seth if Seth won't tell him what the problem is?
How can he protect Seth if he doesn't know who Seth needs protecting from?
And then he hears a very distinct voice say "Queer!" from the direction Seth has just disappeared in.
God, Seth hated water polo players.
He didn't know why they had this seemingly fascinated fascination with him. He wasn't quite sure what made him so special to have the delights of their undivided attention. And he definitely didn't like it.
Brad was an asshole. Seth knew that. But at that moment, that asshole had Seth pinned against the wall with a not so nice smile on his face.
"Fucking queer," he spat.
Inwardly, Seth sighed. They could never come up with anything original.
"So I've been told," he said breezily. "And can I ask to what pleasure do I owe your exclusive attention today Brad? Because I must say, it really is surprising after all this time. I mean-"
"Shut it Cohen," snapped Brad, shoving Seth hard in the chest and causing him to drop his ill balanced books.
Brad smiled –again, not so nice- and purposely placed his foot on top of Seth's chemistry folder, pressing down until they both heard the unmistakable snap of the spine and ring binder inside.
"Queer," Brad said again, a little louder this time, and Seth resisted a strong urge to roll his eyes. He wished Brad would get on with whatever unimaginative thing he was going to bestow on Seth today, so Seth could leave, already.
"Your white trash boyfriend isn't here to save you now, Cohen."
Seth felt kind of pissed off when he heard that. Sure, Ryan may be from Chino, but he wasn't white trash, and, if he ever was, he wasn't anymore, was he? He lived in Newport, like every other idiot in the school. Including Brad. Hello?
Plus, why did they always refer to Ryan as his boyfriend? Ryan was very obviously with Marissa in a completely non-platonic, very much sexual way, just as he had, until recently, been with Summer. Yet, still with the boyfriend cracks.
"Actually," snapped a voice from behind Brad, "that's where you're wrong."
And before Seth could move or breathe or both, Ryan's fist was on Brad's nose, and Brad's foot was no longer on Seth's chemistry folder and everything was looking peachy again.
Except for the fact that Ryan now knew Seth was being bullied again and had to stick up for him again in a less Batman/Robin and more of a Popeye/Olive Oyle way, and that wasn't so peachy.
Brad looked like he might hit Ryan back, but at that moment they heard good old Dr Kim around the front of the building and Brad gave Ryan what was supposed to be a death glare then scarpered.
Real macho.
Ryan sighed as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders (yeah, Seth could so totally see how Ryan had the huge problem right now) and gave Seth a steady look before bending down to pick up the fallen books and ruined chemistry folder. When he stood up, books in hand, he gave Seth another look.
Seth held up his hands in mock surrender.
"Dude, what?"
For a moment he saw a flash of anger in Ryan's eyes, then it was gone and he simply said "come on" before leading Seth inside, Seth's books still in his arms.
Ryan took Seth to the men's restroom and, after making sure no one was inside, barricaded the door, setting Seth's books on the washstand.
"Take off your sweater," he said.
Seth nearly choked.
"Uh, why?"
"Just do it," snapped Ryan, and Seth obeyed because he'd just seen Ryan beat the shit out of Brad, and was slightly wary of him right now, though not exactly afraid, 'cause this was Ryan and Ryan didn't hurt Seth.
"Now your shirt."
This time Seth really did choke.
Okay, so he'd never exactly got that vibe from Ryan, what with the whole RyanandMarissa thing, but it had suddenly occurred to Seth that when Brad called Ryan his "white trash boyfriend" Ryan hadn't exactly denied it. And, oh God, hadn't he locked the door when they came?
"Uh, Ryan…"
"What?" Ryan asked, a slight impatience discernible in his tone.
"I, uh…"
For once Seth thought he might be lost for words, which wasn't something that happened to him, well, ever, but Ryan was coming onto him in the boy's bathroom after rescuing him from a mean water polo player and, oh good grief was this some kind of perverse damsel in distress thing? Was Ryan trying to fulfil some kind of weird fantasy and using Seth as his plaything?
"For God's sake, Seth, I just want to see how bruised you are."
How…how bruised he was?
Oh.
Ryan was giving Seth a really weird look, and Seth realised his fingers were shaking slightly as he reached for his shirt buttons and then suddenly he laughed because, well, the idea of Ryan coming onto him was completely ridiculous.
Ryan laid a hand on his arm and Seth nearly jumped out of his skin.
"You okay, man?"
"Yeah, no, I just thought that, um, what I mean to say is that when you, I, that is, uh…I'm fine. Really" he added, at Ryan's disbelieving eyebrow raise.
The damage wasn't too bad. There was a distinct ovally sort of shoe shaped bruise halfway up his right ribs that was coming up very nicely, and hurt like hell when Ryan poked it.
"Ow! Way to be gentle, Ryan."
Ryan didn't say anything, frowning at the lighter, round bruises that were on Seth's stomach. Fist marks.
When Ryan stepped back, his jaw had gone all tight, and, oh dear, Seth recognised that "lets save the world by kicking the shit out of everybody" look Ryan sometimes got.
"It's no big deal," he said.
Ryan's eyes flared.
"Yeah, right. No big deal when you get the crap kicked out of you for the first time in months, so bad you can't even carry your books properly. No biggie."
Seth reached for his sweater.
"Okay, enough with the sarcasm. That is my area. And it really isn't. A big deal. This happened all the time pre-Ryan. I can deal."
Ryan suddenly looked tired and annoyed and exasperated.
"But you shouldn't have to deal, Seth. That's my point."
That "lets save the world" look flashed again. Seth was pretty sure Batman had never had that particular look. Or Popeye. Popeye used spinach to save the world. Definitely not Popeye.
"I will kill Brad."
Oh dear.
"No," Seth quickly intervened. "You will not, 'cause then you go back to juvie and I would be all pre-Ryan again, and those were not good times, my buddy."
"Worse than today?" he challenges.
"Chyah," Seth replied, hardly believing he just used the expression 'chyah' which was unbelievably girly. "'Cause, you know, pre-Ryan there was no, well, Ryan to hit the water polo players when the water polo players hit me."
Seth really, really hated water polo players.
For a moment Ryan didn't move, but then a smiled a tiny, rueful smile and shook his head.
"We'll work something out," he said quietly.
"Of course we will," Seth replied. "Dude, we are Batman and Robin. We are eggs and ketchup."
Ryan shot him a sideways glance as he opened the door. "Ketchup, huh?"
"Most definitely. Though I'll tell you what we are definitely not. We are definitely not Popeye and Olive Oyle. Though you do kind of have Popeye-esque arms. Do you eat spinach?"
Ryan shook his head again. "Seth, you are one weird dude."
Seth smiled, and wondered whether he should mention Kitana and Mileena.
Ryan was lying on his back in the pool house, staring at the ceiling as he counted to a thousand.
Three hundred and forty two.
He'd decided that it was definitely Luke's fault.
If he hadn't gone to Portland to live with his dad, the jocks wouldn't be picking on Seth again. Of course, Ryan doubted that Luke had really wanted to go to Portland, and if Julie Cooper hadn't broken his heart then maybe he wouldn't have left. Or if Julie hadn't led him on in the first place. In fact, Ryan decided the world would probably just be a much better place without Julie Cooper (soon to be Nicol) in it.
Four hundred and twelve.
Ryan tried very hard not to think about what he wanted to do to Brad. How he wanted to squeeze his stupid water polo playing neck.
Four hundred and seventy eight.
What really pissed him off was that Seth hadn't even wanted to tell him. Seth hadn't wanted him to know.
Five hundred and three.
Marissa had been angry at him for ditching her at lunch, but Ryan couldn't exactly
explain because Seth made him promise not to tell anybody, especially not Summer or Marissa, so now Marissa thought he was hiding something from her and wouldn't speak to him.
Six hundred and twenty two.
The thing with Seth though. It bothered him, it pissed him off in a way that seriously outmatched the feeling he had had earlier. He wanted to slam his fist through the window of the pool house.
Seven hundred and eighty three.
He didn't understand why the jocks picked on Seth. There were plenty of kids who
were geekier, weirder, stranger than Seth. So why him?
Eight hundred and five.
God, he hated feeling so useless.
"What's up man?"
Ryan didn't raise his head at Seth's greeting.
Eight hundred and sixty six.
"So anyway," Seth was saying. "I'm gonna go over to Summer's and study 'cause we've got this, like, giant math test tomorrow, which totally sucks by the way, but Mr Geare was all like "this test will stretch your limit of quadrilateral equations" as if anyone actually cares."
Nine hundred and fifty two.
"So, I'll probably stay at hers and eat, if that's okay with you. You can ask Marissa over or something. Hey, is everything okay with you two, 'cause I noticed in fifth that conversation looked pretty, you know, strained."
"She's not talking to me."
Nine hundred and ninety four.
"Oh, bummer. What d'ya do this time? Did you buy her tapioca for lunch, 'cause Summer always hated it when I bought her tapioca."
One thousand.
"Why don't you ask Summer over here?"
"Um, because you hate her?"
Ryan sighed. "I don't hate her."
"Yeah, whatever dude."
"Seth, I really need to talk to you."
Seth was silent for a split second, which told Ryan that Seth knew exactly what he wanted to talk about.
"There's really no need. I'm fine. You're fine. Everything's great."
"Seth."
"Seriously. I am finer than Newport beach on an August holiday. I'm finer than the chocolate sprinkles on ice-cream. I'm finer that Summer's freshly waxed legs."
"You're babbling."
"Your point being?"
Ryan sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
"Just stay man, we can play Playstation, hang out, whatever."
Seth looked a little panicky.
"But Summer-"
"Summer can study here."
Seth narrowed his eyes. "Are you trying to keep an eye on me?"
Ryan sighed again. "Maybe I just want to hang out."
"Yeah right."
"Seth-"
"I really have to go, Ryan. And I don't really want to have this 'talk' with you, not now or ever. God what are you, my dad? I'm outta here."
Seth turned and walked out of the pool house, an angry stiffness to his shoulders. Ryan didn't think he'd ever seen Seth angry at him before.
So he did the only thing he could. He called Summer.
Summer watches Ryan watching Seth watching T.V.
Summer is smarter than she likes to pretend.
It's fun studying with guys, batting her eyelashes and giggling and tracing her lips with the end of her pencil. She likes brushing her arm against theirs when they both reach for the eraser. She likes turning Study time into Make Out time.
Summer doesn't like serious things.
She doesn't like pain and angst and sadness. She likes getting a smoothie at the mall and lying on her sun lounger and painting her toenails. She hides behind gossip and rumours and whispers. She pretends not to be able to get As in science and not to be able to read people. She gets Bs instead, and acts dumb when someone asks her what so and so is thinking about them.
Summer knows.
Watching Ryan watching Seth, she wonders if Ryan knows.
Probably. But he'll push it to the back of his mind, take it out to brood over once in a while, then put it away again. That's what Ryan's like.
She wonders if Seth knows.
Doubtful. Seth is uniquely innocent in some aspects, not, she suspects, because he has to be, but because he wants to be, because he likes retaining some of his child like qualities. Summer likes it too.
And she knows Ryan likes it, knows he likes seeing things in Seth that he could never see in himself, and knows that's why Ryan will never say anything, never do anything, just let it die down, away, until he barely has to think about it any more.
Summer wonders if she should intervene, but decides no, she won't. She'll sit back and let this one run its course.
And if that course is too slow? Then she'll intervene.
Seth didn't believe that he'd ever been quite so mad at Ryan in his whole post-Ryan life.
It was bad enough when Ryan had tried to 'talk' to him, but then he deliberately went behind Seth's back and changed Seth's plans. Seth's plans, not Ryan's, Seth's.
So here they were, Seth and Summer, not at Summer's house, but at Seth's because he'd only been walking five minutes when Summer roared up in her car, and demanded that he get in because she had a sudden urge to play Grand Theft Auto. Which was possibly the most stupid excuse he had ever heard in his life, from Summer or otherwise, because everyone knew Summer hated playstation, especially games in which you stole cars and killed people.
And guess who else was with them?
Ryan, naturally, and not only was he with them (uninvited) but he had been staring at Seth throughout the entire movie, which Seth knew because he had a weird tingly feeling on the back of his neck which could only be attributed to Ryan's eyes, as Summer would never stare at him for that long for no apparent reason.
Seth seriously felt like turning around and shouting "no one's gonna beat me up in here, Ryan. Unless you suddenly feel the urge, of course."
However, that would definitely cause more trouble that it was worth, so Seth pretended not to feel the eyes, and concentrated on Bruce Willis and Ben Affleck's attempt to save the world wondering why oh why the movie had had to be Summer's choice.
It came as rather a relief when Bruce finally died and Ben and Liv finally got to be together and Seth could finally stand, fake a nice big yawn and say "Well that was fun, but I'm beat so I'm gonna go to the land of nice dreams and comfortable pillows."
Summer gave him a weird look.
"Seth, it's like eight thirty. God, you're seventeen, not seventy."
Seth kind of wished he was seventy, 'cause he doubted he'd still be being beaten up at seventy. Then again, knowing his luck.
"Besides," Summer said. "You still need to help me study."
Seth rolled his eyes.
"We can study upstairs," he said. "I'm sure math will just as scintillating in the walls of my bedroom as it would be down here. Come on."
He extended his hand to Summer and pulled her from the floor, where she'd been lying.
"Chino," Summer said, turning to Ryan. "You coming?"
"Um no," Seth intervened, not looking at Ryan. "Ryan can't because Ryan is meeting Marissa. It's just us I'm afraid." He swung an arm around Summer's shoulders and began leading her from the room. "You will just have to put up with my exquisite Cohen charm."
"Ew, gross Cohen. God, you act like we're still dating."
Seth laughed, manoeuvring her towards the stairs. "As much as I would love to grant you the dearest wish of your heart, I'm afraid that is just not possible."
Summer elbowed him in the ribs, and Seth tried very hard not to gasp as her arm hit his bruise.
"Cohen?"
She stopped suddenly and looked at him.
"Seth, are you okay? You've gone sort of green."
"No he's not."
Seth cursed inwardly and wished Ryan would concentrate on his own life and stop trying to ruin Seth's.
"I'm fine," he ground out, meeting Ryan's eyes with a stubborn glare.
Ryan didn't say anything, just stared steadily back at him.
Summer looked between them, getting more and more confused.
"Hello? Would someone please tell me what's going on here?"
Seth forced himself to look away.
"What's going on here is Ryan was just leaving to call Marissa whilst you and I continue our exciting journey upstairs to study math."
Ryan took a step forward.
"Seth," he began, and his voice was all low and apologetic and concerned.
Seth took a step backward, away from Ryan, toward the stairs.
"Later, man," he said. Then he turned tail and ran.
Ryan stood and stared after Seth a minute, then turned away.
"You should go and talk to him," he said.
"Maybe you should talk to him, Ryan," Summer replied. "Get some stuff off your chest."
Ryan looked at her so fast she thought he might get whiplash.
"Excuse me?" he asked.
Summer smiled breezily, forgetting her earlier resolve not to get involved.
"I just think there might be a thing or two you want to tell him, that's all."
"What are you talking about?"
She rolled her eyes impatiently.
"God, I'm not gonna spell it out for you, Chino."
When Ryan didn't say anything more she rolled her eyes again.
"Whatever. Thanks for a fabulous evening."
She turned and walked out of the Cohen front door toward her car, climbing in and slipping the key into the ignition.
Well, she certainly gave him something to think about.
Ryan doesn't talk to Seth.
He stands outside his door and even raises his hand to knock, but then he turns and walks back to the pool house, where he lies on the bed, stares at the ceiling and begins counting to a thousand.