Name: Chris

Title: One Degree of Separation

Fandom: The OC

Genre: Angst/Romance

Rating: T

Summary: "Do you think it's possible to be in love with the totally right person and the totally wrong person at the same time?" [Seth. Kaitlin.]

……

"At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us."

-Albert Schweitzer

……

A stack of unused airline tickets lays on the nightstand, one for every plane she's called and told him not to board. Something inside him compels him to keep them, grim reminders that maybe; just maybe; the two of them are still worth hanging on to despite all indications to the contrary.

The lush green lawn of the Rhode Island School of Design unfolds before Seth in the predawn hours. His last day of sophomore year is going to be beautiful, he can already tell. Memories of summer in Newport hit him, making him nostalgic for once for his hometown.

The ticket on his dresser was sent by his father, ready to whisk him off for three months in Berkley. Three months with his parents and Sophie, his first back in his childhood home.

Three months without Summer.

The plane is set to board at 8:30. He only has a few hours to pack away the last two semesters of his life away into the suitcases and backpack sitting, half full, on his bed. His roommate has been gone for hours. There was a party the night before somewhere off campus and if he were a betting man, that's where he would lay his money. Of course the prospect of his last night alone in the room until September seemed like a better idea when Summer was supposed to call.

Its half past four and the phone hasn't rung.

When Seth boards the plane four later, it still hasn't.

……

All of the Cohen family memories that are attached to Berkley are happy ones. This is where their family began and when Seth walks up the family steps and sees his little sister playing on the rug in front of the fireplace, blonde hair shining under the soft lighting, he feels an indescribable pang of something.

When he lays in bed that night, in the room assigned to him that he had no part in, it hits him that he feels out of place.

This house is perfect for a mom, a dad, and a baby.

He's the odd man out.

……

"So, Seth, any big plans for today?"

He gets the same question, every morning, always answered with a shrug and a 'not really' that translates into a 'back off' and they know it.

Three weeks in Berkeley and he's been to the comic book store four times, the regular book store three, the lame music store in the mall twice, and the decent one downtown five.

But even Death Cab and Spiderman can only do so much.

He's seen all the landmarks, all the cultural necessities; Moe's, Telegraph Avenue, Caffe Med.

When he voluntarily picks up his mother's US Weekly he knows he's in trouble.

……

It's a sleepy Sunday morning, all dewey and misty from the previous night's rain, and Seth sits in the porch swing with his sketch pad, trying to break his habit and not draw Summer's eyes in his mother's rose bush.

The dull thudding of a distant bass line breaks its way into his subconscious, a heartbeat that shakes up his own. Growing louder with each second, the rhythm beats out and he realizes that he knows it.

The squared off features of the hood of a classic car comes into view. More than that, it pulls up on the curb right in front of the house and he gets the briefest glimpse of long sandy colored hair before it dawns on him just what is happening.

Kaitlin Cooper has descended upon his day.

Let the whirlwind begin.

……

"Cohen," she yells out, making his soul pang for Summer, "be a gentleman and take my bag inside."

His hearing must be going. Too many hours with ear phones and all that. "Bag?"

"Did I stutter?" With no warning, a large leather duffel bag is thrust into his stomach and he staggers at being caught off guard.

Not even sparing him a backwards glance, she walks ahead of him into the house, and when he makes his way into the kitchen she's sitting at the table, talking away with his mother like they're old friends, spackling her bagel with mounds of grape jelly.

That's just…wrong.

"Kaitlin," he says, "you're here."

"Aren't you observant?" Running her little finger across the jelly on her bagel, she puts it in her mouth and sucks it off, repeats the action.

"Seth," his mother says, "Kaitlin is going to stay with us for a few weeks."

He wants to ask why, wants to whine and be childish but he can't. He knows better. "Great."

Sitting down at the table across from them, Seth picks up a bagel for himself and takes a huge bite, at a loss of what to say.

Kirsten stands up, says she has a few errands to run, and tells them that Sophie should be awake soon.

"Why are you really here?"

Kaitlin eyes him over her bagel. A shiny smear of purple mars her chin and she swipes at it with her napkin. "Officially, I'm here to help out with Sophie while your mom gets her new business up and running."

"Your last summer before college?"

She doesn't answer. Merely looks at him, flatly. Defiantly.

Typical.

He leans in, drops his voice in dramatic fashion. (The most fun he's had in days.) "Unofficially?"

"There may have been a party…"

Raising an eyebrow, he urges her to elaborate.

She huffs. "There may have been cops."

"Something tells me," Seth says as he passes her the jelly jar for her second bagel, "that Julie would need more of a reason than that to send you up here."

With a deep sigh, as if of extreme effort, Kaitlin narrows her big eyes and glares at him. "Danny may have ended up with a mohawk."

Laughing and shaking his head, Seth grabs another bagel and refills his coffee, deciding that a day with his Xbox is sounding like a good idea.

……

Kaitlin end sup in Seth's room. Seth gets the couch.

He wakes up around 2 to see the front door ajar. Stepping out onto the porch he sees Kaitlin sitting on the top step in her pajamas, a thin wisp of smoke rising above her head.

He sits beside her. "Old habits die hard, is that it?"

"Want some?" She holds the joint out to him. "You seem edgier than ever."

Shaking his head, he declines. "Old habits die hard, and usually painfully. Think I'll spare myself the trouble this time."

Shrugging, she takes another long, slow drag before tossing the end out into the damp grass. They sit and watch it burn out, Kaitlin standing only when the tiny light is gone. "Night, Cohen."

"Night."

……

Ryan calls later that day, just like he calls every Sunday.

He let Taylor talk him into a backpacking tour of Tuscany, but promises he'll be there before the end of the summer.

When Seth tells him that Kaitlin is going to be spending most, if not all, of the summer with them, Ryan's end of the line goes silent long enough to make Seth think he's hung up.

He hears a heavy breath escape Ryan's lips. "Good luck, man."

"Thanks. That' a big help."

……

His mother gets him a job at a used book store downtown. Seth figures she assumed the three block proximity to campus be good for him when all it really does is make him even more aware than ever of how alone he is.

On day three, the bell jingles just after lunch, he hears someone call out 'Cohen' before he looks up.

"Kaitlin, hey." He comes around the counter to talk. Not like there are any customers to tend to. "What are you doing here?"

"Your mom took Sophie for a check up so I had her drop me off so I could see why you come home miserable every day." She looks around, wide eyes taking in the dust and the dingy windows and Myron over by the 'adult' section and grimaces. "Now I see why."

Myron creeps closer. Over Kaitlin's shoulder Seth watches as he lets his eyes roam freely over her form.

"Yeah…" He lets his voice trail off and, trying to be discreet about it, places a hand on her elbow to lead her away from Myron's leering.

"Oh don't worry about sweater vest over there," she cocks her head in the direction of the stacks, "I just wanted to see if you wanted to grab lunch or something."

He's taken aback; mainly because the last time he was with Kaitlin Cooper voluntarily was…well, never, but also because she's come all the way downtown to see him. "You wanna have lunch with me?" Looking around, in exaggerated fashion, he turns back to her dubious expression and leans closer. "You realize I'm Seth, right?"

Her shoulders roll in an easy shrug, dislodging the wide strap of her huge leather bag and she tugs at it absentmindedly. She tucks a stray wisp of long hair behind her shoulder and idly examines her black nail polish. "You're the only person I know in town-well, besides your parents and your baby sister. Why not? You get off at noon, right?"

He can live with that.

……

They stop in at Caffe Mediterraneum. Sandy's told them both that it's 'the birthplace of the caffee latte' and they wait forever for seats. Seth explains to her that Ginsberg wrote part of 'Howl' here, but he's pretty positive she's not listening, opting to look at the myriad of flyers and posts on the bulletin board by the door.

"Hey, Freight and Salvage is nearby." Pulling it down, she hands it over to him, standing at his shoulder for a better look. "You been?"

"Not yet."

That would entail him allowing his funk to dissipate long enough to leave the house at night.

"Its open mic night." Their eyes meet and hers are so big and open and impossibly clear. "Wanna go?"

……

As out of place as he generally looks in any club, the calm that washes over Seth whenever he sets foot into one is close to unparalleled.

Kaitlin walks just in front of him, eyes sweeping, not missing a single detail of the scene around her, standing out in her blood red jacket and black leather pants in the sea of jeans and short cargo skirts.

She also happens to be easily the most beautiful girl in the place, so that's probably attributing to the stares.

The music plays around them, the open mic part not as encompassing to the evening as he would have expected, and it falls to background noise as they, shockingly, fall deep into conversation about the day they've spent walking through the commercial district of town and he's never it before, but Kaitlin Cooper is a lot like him.

Wow.

She's smart and snarky, her tongue razor sharp, and she makes the most obscure references as she looks around, ignoring the come hither eyes of blonde guys in khaki shorts and tie-dye tee shirts and Seth begins to catalogue small details about her in his head.

For one, she uses her hands when she talks, but only deep into a conversation. The clinking and shimmying of the jumble of bracelets around her wrists are distracting, but not enough to pull his mind away when the conversation turns, and turn it does, repeatedly.

Seth buys the drinks, and for each glass of Scotch he orders her (did not peg her for whiskey) after she flashes her fake ID, she dumps in two packets of sugar, and licks the remnants off the coffee stirrer she uses to mix.

One thing he does notice that hasn't changed from the last time he saw her two years earlier is her patented eye roll, down to a science. He sees it when he comes back from the men's room and a tall, beefy guy with a dark crew cut and a sleeveless shirt is leaning over the back of her chair. The guy is smirking, talking in low tones, until she angles her head and replies something Seth can't make out and then his face darkens, and he walks away. Her eyes are rolling when he sits back down.

"Making new friends?"

She scoffs, taking a long sip of her drink. "Hardly." Tossing a glance at the guy over her shoulder, she takes stock of him before she goes on. "I don't go for the Van Damme wannabes."

"Ah yes," Seth bobs his head, stretching his legs out under the table. "Why go for big and macho when you have skinny and abnormally pale at your table."

"What can I say; I have a soft spot for the tortured and brooding type." She responds with a mischievous smile and pulls off her jacket, heavy velvet, and then wraps her long hair in a rubber band she has on her wrist. "The only thing tortured about that guy is that his high end sneakers are last year's big ticket item."

Smiling, and fighting a chuckle, Seth responds, "The Chucks are always in." He solidifies his point by putting one size 11 on the chair beside her and then nods to a group of overly nonchalant, obviously underage, kids standing by the bar drinking colorful cocktails and cheap beers.

"Well no one said that tortured and brooding had to include cool," she teases, seemingly unable to keep the wide grin from breaking across her pretty face.

He deadpans. "Don't ruin my moment."

……

Saturday night his parents have some dinner with the Dean and Seth brings home a stack of DVD's; he feels bad that Kaitlin's facing a night of sitting in front of the television with Sophie's bedtime set for 8 o'clock.

"Spiderman, X-Men," she recites the titles as she flips through them, "Superman, Batman." Fixing a heavy gaze on him, she arches one perfectly groomed eyebrow. "Do I look like a 13 year old boy to you?"

"These are great films," he insists. Pouring popcorn into a bowl and meanders over to flop onto the squishy couch beside her, feet going up on the coffee table.

Of course she has to contradict him. "No, Casablanca is a great film. These are fluff."

"Spiderman is not fluff." Maybe he's a little biased here, especially towards Spiderman in general, but the underlying themes in these movies are powerful, and that's what he tells her, bribing her with a promise of her weight in ice cream sundaes if she just watches one.

"Deal." They shake hands, and he grins at her smirk. She's so confident she'll be right that it automatically lifts his mood.

The movie plays and she manages to pay apt attention, a frown of concentration on her face, even as she paints her toes her toes a dark metallic blue. Seth finds himself watching her more than the movie, just checking, out of the corner of his eye, until she notices and flicks a few kernels at him.

"Stop it, I'm paying attention."

He obeys. Mostly.

……

Sunday afternoon it rains, and they finally do watch Casablanca on TCM while Kirsten and Sandy catch up on their respective paperwork in the dining room, but Sandy can be heard quoting lines along with Bogie and Bergman and it throws Seth off.

"I can't believe you've never seen this," Kaitlin remarks, snatching the bag of Doritos out of his hands. She eats junk food like she breathes, though you'd never know it to look at her. "This is essential cinema."

'Essential cinema' is not a term Seth has ever expected to hear come out of the highly glossed lips of Kaitlin Cooper, but he learned with the first puff of his initial joint that she's not someone who can easily, if ever, be pegged.

Somewhere around the time that Ilsa stands crying in Rick's office she mentions that Summer told her about the attempt at a movie he made back in Newport. "Think I could see it?"

Seth shakes his head. "You see, artists are very protective of their work. It's their baby, their treasure. It can't be paraded about willy-nilly like that."

Tossing a handful of chips at him, she frowns. "Aren't you the guy who published a graphic novel?"

"Point."

He agrees, under duress, and as the movie winds down his parents join them in the living room, watching the scene out and the last line echoing against the pattering of water on glass at the windows.

"Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

A soft weight lands on Seth's shoulder and he turns his head to see its Kaitlin, sound asleep beside him, head falling against his neck.

……

Two weeks into her stay, Kaitlin starts working her way through Sandy's library. She's curled up in the seat of the huge bay window in the living room, way into the morning with Tender is the Night and he throws a pillow at her to get her attention. It's almost three and the lamp she's using is way too bright for someone who has to be at work by ten.

The pillow comes back, hitting his head harder than it hit her he's sure. "Just go upstairs and sleep in my room."

"It's my room." His words are muffled by the pillow over his head, and he groans, standing up and snatching the book away from her. "My parents would never let me hear the end of it if I exiled you to the couch."

"Hey!" Kaitlin's husky voice is indignant, and she tries her best to grab the book out of his hand, held high above her head. He has four inches on her, so the probability of underhanded methods to retrieve the book is likely. "I will hurt you, Cohen."

"You can have it back in the morning." Flicking off the offensive lamp, he falls back onto the couch, clutching the copy of Fitzgerald to his chest. Hearing her huff and thump to the stairs, a wicked smile curves his lips. "Oh, the great arrogant years in the life of a pretty girl."

Her feet hit the bottom step and stops. "You do realize I sleep three feet away from your comic books?"

He grunts, tosses the book to her over the back of the couch. "Ugh, fine."

She comes into the shop and presents him with the new Dave Eggars novel and a large coffee the next day, a peace offering. There's another copy for herself in the bag-she's twenty pages in, and he comes back late from lunch.

……

"So…you and Kaitlin have been spending a lot of time together," his dad comments over breakfast a few days later.

Seth hadn't thought it was that much time. Not noticeable time at any rate. "We have?"

Kirsten and Kaitlin are out with Sophie, walking her around the block as they've begun to do. Handing him a bagel, Sandy folds his hands together. "Well it seems that whenever you're not at work and she's not with Sophie the two of you are off in a corner somewhere, talking about…what do you two talk about?" He levels a look on his son that makes Seth feel like a child in trouble, curious about questionable actions.

"I don't know," Seth says. "Stuff. You know, books, music, crazy family members, Summer."

That peaks Sandy's interest. "Have you talked to Summer lately?"

"Not really. Kind of hard to talk when she's on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic or…wherever she is this week."

He tries, and fails, to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"What do you think she'd have to say about you spending all this time with Kaitlin?"

It's a jarring question. Absurd, even. "You think she'd care?" Summer and Kaitlin have never been especially close, but he doubts their budding friendship would be a sticking point for Summer.

"Spending all your free time alone with a beautiful girl? Yeah, I think Summer would have a lot to say about that. She has rage blackouts, remember?"

Is he implying…oh God, he is. Seth grasps the situation now, and it makes his coffee deprived head spin. "Dad, it's not like that with Kaitlin and me. She's a kid."

With a look that wouldn't be amiss being used on the village idiot, he says, "She's 18, Seth. That's hardly Barbie dolls and tea parties."

He picks up his dad's coffee cup and sniffs it. "Have you been into the Manischewitz?"

"Just be careful."

Sandy pats his son's shoulder and takes his coffee and the paper out to the porch.

……

The conversation replays in his head all day, like a bad contempo pop song on every station you turn to, all throughout work and the errands he offers to run for his manager after his shift ends.

He's avoiding going home, and is not afraid to admit it.

Of course he must eventually, and when he trudges up the walkway the first thing he sees is Kaitlin, stretched along the top step of the porch, ankles crossed and propped against the post, blocking his way inside.

When she notices his approach, she tugs the earbuds out of her ears and hits the pause on her iPod. "You're late."

Was she waiting on him?

"What are you listening to?" Seth wraps a hand around her ankle and swivels her legs so he can sit beside her.

"Dylan," she replies and offers him a bud. He puts it in and hears the smooth chords of 'It Ain't Me Babe' wafting from the tiny speakers.

'It's not me you're looking for' and Kaitlin's bare shoulder, bare knee, bump against him, and now he's painfully aware of how little she's wearing despite the 75 degrees his car radio told him it is outside, how soft and warm and tan her skin is beside him.

There's a volume of Christina Rossetti sonnets lying on the wooden floor on the other side of her and he reaches an arm across her legs to snatch it up. It falls open in his hands to the page she's marked.

"Breath for breath, pulse for pulse," she recites, and now it just feels like she's taunting him.

……

His mother calls him the next day and tells him that Sandy dropped Kaitlin off at the library earlier, but she's having some issues with the fundraiser location and now Sophie's developed an ear infection, which is she gave Kaitlin the day off to begin with, and can't pick her up.

Does he mind?

Mind? Well…not so much as he is worried. Why? Because his father has put some very, very odd thoughts into his head and he's afraid of regressing to pre Ryan, dorky Seth Cohen and spouting off intelligible babbles and unable to stop.

Pretty girls have that effect on him. Still.

Especially with these…thoughts.

He turns his car onto Shattuck Avenue, and from the end of the street he can see her standing at the top of the library steps, leaning against the wall, book open in front of her.

And that's when it finally, finally, hits him that his father had been right and Kaitlin Cooper is no longer a kid. She's a strikingly beautiful girl, more so than even her sister maybe, and he sees people all along the busy street stopping for a first, second, third glimpse of her.

He honks, on autopilot, and she glances down the line of traffic until their eyes meet through the dusty windshield. Tiny smile forming on her face, she puts her book into her bag and walks down the steps. The car in front of Seth slows down to a crawl as she nears the edge of the curb, almost stopping by the time Seth is close enough for Kaitlin to get in the car.

"Hey, I was expecting your mom." She buckles her seatbelt and the small space of his front seat is flooded with the scent of roses and something else, something heavier, sharper.

He makes a left, directing the car back in the direction of home and when her fingers twist the dial on his radio, he doesn't say anything. He wouldn't let anyone else get away with that, and especially without a word, other than Summer and the Nana, but on the way over a plan formed in his head that maybe, just maybe, if he stays silent, she'll follow his lead.

"Would you care to swing downtown, I need to pick up a few things."

The exasperation must show on his face, and she offers to buy him candy at the pharmacy.

It's a fair trade, Seth muses while she roams the aisles, the new Hulk in one hand, a Chunky in the other.

……

His father, Seth decides, is just paranoid.

So when Summer finally calls and Kaitlin answers it he thinks nothing of it. He'd come into her room (no longer does he consider it his) to see if she maybe wants to go see a band play downtown and found her carefully scanning the Williams Spring course catalogue on the floor, hair held off her neck with a panoply of pens and markers, wearing striped knee socks with Paul Frank monkeys on them.

"Cohen?" Summer comes through the line scratchy, distant. His heart thuds hard. "What is Mini-Coop doing answering your phone?" Wow, she stills calls her that even though she's 18.

He sits up from his relaxed posture on the narrow bed that smells heavily of roses and sandalwood, careful not to met Kaitlin's eyes. She's twisted her upper body to watch him, back brushing the edge of the comforter, head tilted in curiosity.

"I'm giving her input on classes. She got her course catalogue today," he explains, feeling like he's been caught doing something taboo, verboten. "What do you think; Art History or Literary Pop Culture references?"

So maybe Sandy isn't so paranoid.

They don't go to the concert.

……

With a little fast talking, and bribes of pastries, Seth coerces his manager into letting him work the evening shifts for a while.

He's not a chicken, he's just…cautious.

Yeah, that's it.

One night, back before the veil of not so innocent hanging out fell over them, Kaitlin had dragged him into a photo booth outside the movie theater down the street from the store where he works. Each strip held four frames, and she ripped it in half, sliding one piece into her pocket.

Seth tries to ignore the wistfulness that washes over him every time he opens his locker after clocking in and sees the tiny black and white faces of Kaitlin and himself doing their best Newpsie poses taped to the gray metal door.

……

Seth wakes up to a list of books on the coffee table in front of him, a blank check from his mother beside it.

She's not there when he gets home that night and he remembers that there's some big to do for the Berkley alumni at the botanical gardens.

Is it just him, or are his parents home less here than they ever were in Newport?

Kaitlin's home though, upstairs, and it turns out the books are for her.

The bed is barely visible, so covered with shoe boxes and shopping bags so he sits on the floor, calling out the titles while she removes her purchases from the bags and separates them into categories around the room.

"You know," he remarks, placing a tattered edition of Vonnegut on the top of the pile, "I figured you would have had most of these." He waves Edith Wharton to prove his point, gifted with a shrug in return. When he was at Harbor, it was number one for Senior Lit class.

"My mom went through this whole feng shui attack a few months ago and the bulk of my old school stuff were the first casualties." Carefully folding a thick knit sweater, she places it in the bottom of a suitcase that wasn't in here yesterday. "I mentioned to your mom that I got my English reading list this morning and she insisted." She tosses him a smirk. "She gave my mom the feng sui book for her birthday."

Seth laughs. Thumbing through a well worn copy of Walden, he attempts to conjure up an image of Kaitlin, with her thick eyeliner and requisite California girl glow, in the very heart of the New England liberal arts college scene.

The piles of cable knit and long scarves surrounding him aside, it's not easy.

……

"So, are you kids going to watch the meteor shower tonight?" Kirsten is all smiles as she sets the pot of spaghetti in the middle of the dining room table.

"There's a thing in the park tonight," Kaitlin says. "I was thinking about going down there to watch it."

"The park?" Kirsten's blonde brows scrunch together. "That late? It's not predicted to start until after eleven. Seth," she turns her eyes onto her son, "will go with you."

Before he has a chance to protest, before Kaitlin can say anything, Sandy chimes in. "I agree. We'd feel better if you had someone with you."

So blanket in hand, they drive downtown, parking the car more than three blocks from the park due to the traffic. "Looks like a popular impulse," Kaitlin quips. In her hoodie and ponytail, she looks much, much younger than 18, and she kicks at loose pebbles with the toe of her sneakers like a little girl.

God help him, he feels like a cradle robber and when the thought sinks in, his stomach lurches.

The park is crowded, smoky, and loud, and they barely have their blanket spread out before the throng of people closes in on them, trampling on the fabric.

"This isn't working." Standing, Kaitlin places her hands on her hips, swiveling her head around in search of a better spot. Seth's eyes fall on the strip of bare skin exposed between her top and her low slung jeans.

Not his fault. He's eye level with her stomach when he sits. Face growing hot, Seth jumps to his feet, jittery hands already folding the blanket back up.

Suddenly, she turns to him, face split into a wide grin. "I've got it."

Seth would have expected her to wrap her palm around his wrist, but instead she slides her slender fingers through his, thumb pressing into the back of his hand, and pulls him through the crowd and towards campus.

……

"Be quiet. Are you trying to get us caught?" Kaitlin hisses. The door all at once comes open and she pulls the front pieces of her hair back, sliding the bobby pin back where it was to hold it off her face. After checking to make sure no one is looking, she dashes inside the stairwell and pulls him in after her.

For one, he can't believe that worked. "You picked that with a bobby pin. I thought that only worked on tv." But for some reason, there is no real surprise. Kaitlin is full of surprises, and he sees it over and over again, every day he spends with her.

"Now aren't you glad you have the night off from work?" She begins the daunting trek up the enormous set of stairs to the top, and he has no choice but to follow her up to the top of Sather Tower. The bay looms out below them, a perfect reflection of the black sky above.

He spreads the blanket out and leans back, admitting that this was a great idea. "Of course I'm going to say you forced me up here if we get caught." Flickering lights from the Space Sciences Laboratory blink in the distance, making him thankful she had talked him out of bringing the lantern from the car with them. "Just so you know."

"Try it and I'll throw your skinny ass off this tower," she shoots back and stretches her body alongside his on the blanket. "Just so you know."

They're silent for a while, just taking in the scenery above them. Kaitlin breaks the silence by remarking that she thinks the tower they're currently trespassing on is actual more architecturally interesting than the one it was based on.

Again, she's stunned him. "You know what this tower was based on?"

"Hello, I did do some research before I chose a college." She pulls a pack of Starbursts from her pocket and pops one in her mouth, then offers him one. "Plus your dad mentioned it so many times that I had to go look for it when I talked Bullit into taking me to Venice last year."

He remembers hearing about that, and the stopover in Paris on the way back.

Something tells him, that Kaitlin Cooper, when she puts her mind to it, is a force to be reckoned with.

……

Seth's not sure how long it is in actuality, but they lay there on the concrete floor until long after the meteors stop streaking across the sky, until the first faint hints of gray begin to lighten up the inky sky.

Kaitlin lies beside him, stretching out on her side like a cat, head propped in her hand and she finally asks him about Summer. "What's going on with you guys? It seems like you don't even want to talk about her or anything."

Shrugging, Seth crosses his hands on hi chest. Of course he knew that this conversation was coming, he always knew. The weeks he and Kaitlin have spent getting to know one another for the first time in their lives have slowly been leading to it. Already tonight Kaitlin has opened up and told him about her dad, about feeling she was never important to him, then she talks about Marissa and how she still feels like she's living in her sister's shadow.

Her face is open and earnest and looks so much younger than the night she stood on the Newport pier and shared with him her fear of being forgotten. Hard to believe that was almost four years ago. It feels like a lifetime.

It was, in a way. Most days Seth tries not to dwell on the more painful moments that have happened in the last few years, the worst being Marissa's death. If he can categorize his life into Before Ryan and After Ryan, then there is also a very distinct Before Marissa and After Marissa, even for him.

Then his mind turns and his head conjures up the image of her incredulous face, delicate features so like Kaitlin's, when she found out her little sister had given him pot and he tries not to laugh.

So, high on top of the tower, he owns up to the loneliness that's been slowly seeping into his life over the last few years. Even when Summer came back to Brown, it was as if her mind was elsewhere, back with GEORGE and the year she spent on the road with them. "I just," he says, "I feel like an obligation, and that she'd be out there full time if it weren't for me." He looks into her sympathetic gray eyes and finally, finally, utters the truth he's kept locked away for over a year. "She's slipping away and there's nothing I can do to stop it because she's out there saving the world, and what kind of person would I be if I asked her to give that up?"

"Human," she whispers. Seth fights back tears and Kaitlin snuggles closer, hand twining around his elbow, head working into the crook of his neck.

……

They make it home just minutes before his parents get up.

He's not sure, but Seth thinks his dad throws him a knowing look over the rim of his coffee mug.

……

Myron actually manages to talk Seth into going to one of his poetry slams after work one night. He's been trying for weeks and tonight Seth is just terrified enough to go. His parents are going to be home tonight, with no social obligation luring them away from the house and that leaves Kaitlin with a free night.

And the memory of her warm skin, her warm breath and soft hands, just makes it too much of a risk.

The coffeehouse, with that clearly forced air of college intellectual posturing that seems to seep out of the walls like cloying smoke in places like this, is dark and cramped, full of moth-eaten chairs and creaky bookcases stuffed with cracked leather bindings and tattered paperbacks, and the scent of clove cigarettes fill his nostrils and make his eyes burn.

Myron orders him a dark roast that has the taste and consistency of mud and clumps in his mug instead of swishing like it's supposed to but he drinks it, his hands turning into jitters at the sheer strength.

"This stuff should come with an octane rating," he mutters. Now he knows why Myron is always so hyper and clumsy.

Idle chatter, stilted and awkward, is followed by even more coffee until Myron finally gets up to speak. He prattles on for four and a half minutes, reciting from a rumpled piece of paper he pulls out of his back pocket, about aliens and stars and nebulas and the heavens above.

God, he hopes he doesn't sound like this.

When the girl at the table behind him starts to quote Rosetti he throws down a few bills onto the table and leaves.

……

Hands still shaky, Seth digs his hands into his pocket to fish out his car keys. It's a task; his fingers feel thick and disjointed from his hands and they protest their job.

He's so focused on his task that he doesn't even realize where he's going and once they're finally free he comes to a stop in front of a tattoo parlor. The overhead bell jingles and he looks up into Kaitlin's eyes, sees his own surprise mirrored back at him in the gray depths.

"Hey," she says and her eyes fall to his twitching hands. "You okay?"

"Over caffeinated."

She nods, the fall of her hair spilling across her shoulders. "Maybe I should drive." She plucks the keys out of his hands, remarking that the bus gets creepy this time of night anyway.

His eyes are still on her face, haven't left, and she looks back up at him when he puts a hand on her wrist to stop her from walking on. "Did you get a tattoo?"

Her lips quirk, eyes devilish. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

He would. "I would."

Something in her eyes, wide and unblinking, changes. Darkens. Licking her lips, she pulls him towards an overhang on the side of the building. The street ends where they're standing, nothing but the darkness of the alleyway around them and the vaguest hint of light from the streetlamp that stands parallel to their bodies. Kaitlin shrugs her jacket off, laying it and her bag on the ground and pulls the hem of her tank top up, revealing a gauze bandage peeking out from under the waistband of her yoga pants. She makes no further movement and her eyes stay on him, challenging.

Still buzzing, his fingers curl over the thin navy cotton and fold her waistband down until the entirety of the bandage is visible and he peels it off, slowly, eyes on her face to make sure he's not hurting her when the tape detaches from her skin.

infinitas

"Didn't peg you for Latin," he whispers, fingers ghosting over the air above her hipbone, not daring to touch her.

"I didn't peg you for groping in alleys."

Seth's hands release her like she's on fire. He takes a step back, shaking his head to clear the murky thoughts muddling his brain. "Me neither."

With a purse of her lips, she rights her clothes and picks her bag up, walking back into the lights of another downtown Friday night. He follows her because, well, because there's nothing else for him to do.

"You want one?"

She's facing the tattoo parlor, arms folded over her chest. It takes a few seconds, but finally it sinks in what she's asking.

"A tattoo?"

She shrugs. "Why not?"

Seth pulls his own jacket off and rolls the right sleeve of his t shirt up. "Been there, done that."

He feels the tickle of Kaitlin's finger on his bicep before he turns to look at her. She traces the lines of red and black, face pensive, unreadable.

"It's Summer."

"Well technically its Little Miss Vixen, only…Mexican."

She steps away from him, retreating into herself, an inward action that shows on the outside and it hits him.

Kaitlin wanted this for herself. She wanted him to get a tattoo as proof of…

Of them. Of this summer.

Proof that she matters to him.

"One more," he concedes and her head whips around.

……

"Let me see it," she whines, tugging on his arm. "You wouldn't even let me go in with you."

Chuckling, Seth shrugs her off, pulling the car into the driveway. All the lights are out in the house, only the pathway lights making her visible to him. Like in the alley. He checks in the windows of his parent's bedroom to make sure the sound of the engine hasn't woken them up. "Can you see?" Her head bobs and he pulls his shirt up and off, rotating his torso so she see his back.

Goosebumps prickle along his spine when she mimics his own earlier actions and peels away the tape and gauze from between his shoulder blades, unveiling the tiny mark to her eyes.

"A lopsided 8?"

"It's the symbol of infinity." He turns to face her, fear bubbling in his chest.

A few beats pass in silence. "Why did you get that?"

"Why did you get yours?"

She breaks their gaze, eyes downcast, hands folded in her lap. "I want to keep feeling the way I was feeling when I got it."

"Two hours ago?"

Pulling her legs up under her in the seat, she folds her head in her hands. "It was an impulse."

That sounds contradictory. "Impulsive and infinity?"

It suits her though. One thing he's learned over the last few weeks is that Kaitlin Cooper is a study in contradictions.

"Your turn," she all but demands, breaking into his musings.

There's nothing to say but the truth. So he does. (Lying leads to bad things for him. He's learned that the hard way.) "It seemed important to you."

He turns his head and their eyes meet, the air around them changing, charging, thickening. Seth watches her eyes slip down and a heat surges up in his blood. Only then does he remember that he's not wearing a shirt. Trying not to be too obvious, he tugs it back over his head, feeling the burn of his fresh marking on his skin.

"I think we should go inside."

……

He goes back on morning shifts the next day and his parents know that so Sandy apparently feels no qualms about turning the stereo up at 7 the next morning.

"Dad, is Sinatra necessary this early?" He shuffles into the kitchen and fills his RISD mug up to the brim with his mother's best French roast. "What about something a little less…peppy?"

"Ah, son, this it music to get your heart going." Sandy thumps him hard on the back, almost making him spill his coffee.

He wants to mutter that his heart is already going, overtime it feels like, but that would lead to questions that he can't answer and he just really, really wants to talk to Summer.

Sandy sets about making breakfast, cracking eggs and flipping pancakes that smell incredible, singing as he goes. "Fly me to the moon…" He trails off, his face breaking into a huge grin as Kaitlin walks into the kitchen with a happily gurgling Sophie on her hip. "Good morning, ladies."

"You are all I long for, all I worship and adore."

And Seth doesn't feel like pancakes anymore.

……

Ryan is standing in the driveway when he gets home from work, drinking a soda and chatting with Kirsten, who is beaming so big people all down the block must be able to see her smile.

"Hey man," Ryan gives him a one armed hug that only guys as macho and not cheesy as Ryan can pull off. "It's about time you got home."

"When'd you get in?" Seth asks. The three of them walk back into the house and Seth sees Sandy on the phone in the kitchen and he gestures that he'll be off in just a minute, and Sophie in her playpen beside the couch. His sister holds her arms out when he walks in and he stoops to pick her up. "Where's Taylor?"

"Taylor will be here in a few days. She stopped off in Newport to see Julie and Danny."

The mention of the rest of the Cooper clan makes Seth think of Kaitlin, his eyes automatically searching for her around the room. Sophie tugs on his collar, demanding his attention. She blinks up at him, tiny face scrunched in disapproval.

He chuckles. She must have known what he was thinking.

Then he realizes Ryan is still talking.

"Julie's going to drive her up next week. I think it's just an excuse to see Kaitlin."

"Yeah, where is Kaitlin?" Seth tries for nonchalant, making faces at his baby sister. He almost, almost, misses the look Ryan shoots in his direction.

Kirsten takes Sophie from him, who's starting to fuss, and walks in the direction of the kitchen. "She went to the store to pick up a few things for dinner.

"Hey Seth, can I talk to you outside for a second?" Ryan stuffs his hands in his pockets, a sure sign that he's about to delve into uncomfortable or emotional territory.

They step out onto the porch and Ryan rubs a hand over his face, looking out over the neighborhood before he begins to talk. "What's going on, Seth?"

His palms begin to sweat. "Wha-what? Ryan, dude, there's nothing going on. I mean, I work, I come home. No room for any 'going on' to occur." He emits a nervous chuckle that sounds shrill and forced and Ryan narrows his eyes at him.

"You can't lie to me, Seth," he says. "You tensed up as soon as you walked into the house."

"I just…it's…there's…" He trails off, the words dying in his mouth. He's protesting too much and that's always a dead giveaway. "I don't know, Ryan. Maybe I just need to go to therapy…or church…or something."

"Seth, you're Jewish." Ryan states flatly.

"Half Jewish," he corrects.

"You were bar mitzvahed."

Has he always been this argumentative?

"Moses can't help me, Ryan." Placing a hand on the other man's shoulder, Seth says soberly, "Moses was a man. A man who married, a man who bore children."

Ryan's eyes narrow. "I think that was his wife."

But Seth is not going to be deterred. "My point, Ryan, is that I need Jesus."

"Why?

Now they've come to the crux of the problem. "I may be having…impure thoughts," he hisses out the last words with the tone of voice that some people would employ to say 'mind numbing, sheet melting, behind the back of the garage, sweaty animal sex.'

Or something like that.

Eyebrows knotting together, Ryan scoffs, a smirk twisting the corners of his lips. "You're not Catholic, Seth."

"Impure thoughts about Kaitlin."

And it's out.

The sound of a car roaring into the driveway pulls both their attention. Kaitlin climbs out of the car, a break in the leaves causing an errant beam of sunlight to hit on her hair just right, lighting her in one of those Hollywood moments designed to drive the point home.

Ryan's hand lands heavy against his shoulder blade, his head shaking. "You don't need church," he declares. "You need a miracle."

……

He and Ryan go out that night, see a band that are pretty lousy and then just walk around town. Seth isn't in the mood (or frame of mind) to be in the house with Kaitlin, and Ryan seems to get it. He shows Seth a few places he likes to frequent and then points out the apartment building on Bancroft he's going to be living in next semester.

Ryan asks about Providence, about RISDE. Then he asks about Summer.

Seth tells him what he told Kaitlin, almost verbatim.

"Does this have anything to do with your impure thoughts?" Ryan looks around as he says it. Seth wants to laugh at Ryan's worry of being overheard and misinterpreted. He just can't.

"Don't know." Seth swings his hands out in front of him. "Maybe a little. I miss her, Ryan, I really miss her. And Kaitlin is here…and we've been spending a lot of time together." A smile that he can't help and doesn't even feel curves the edge of his mouth up. "She's different than I thought."

Ryan says his name, jolts him back to the discussion at hand. "Seth, you've gotta get a hold on whatever it is you're feeling here. You need to figure out what it is that you want."

Seth stops. Stares. Says point blank, "I want Summer."

"You're sure about that?"

Seth hesitates. And therein lays his problem.

……

When Seth pushes open the front door Kaitlin is asleep on the couch. She rouses when they come in, sitting up slowly and rubbing at her eyes like Sophie.

"I'll let you guys talk." Ryan heads up the stairs and Seth can't find it in himself to even wonder where he's going.

As soon as the sound of his footsteps disappear Kaitlin fixes a glare on him. "You're avoiding me."

"Sorry."

If she was expecting him to deny it, she doesn't let on. She leans her side into the back of the couch, folding her legs up under her to give him room to sit down. He does, hesitantly.

"Seth…I don't know what's going on here."

He chuckles and its tastes bitter. "That makes two of us."

The grandfather clock by the stairs ticks out time, breath by breath, and when he finally finds the courage to look up at Kaitlin he's shocked to see a film of tears glinting in her big pale eyes.

"I don't know how this happened," she whispers. Seth doesn't know how, but he can feel the words, spilling across his skin, reaching into his chest to grip his heart, vice like. "You ramble about comic books and video games all the time, and you make lame jokes, and I know more about Marvel and The Valley then I have ever wanted to." At that, he smiles. Just a bit. "And you love Summer."

His face falls.

"But you're sweet," she goes on, "and you're funny, and the dorky things you say make me laugh and last night, when we were in the car (he shivers at the memory), I finally knew what that feeling was that made me want that tattoo."

Seth's eyes fall to the area of skin, covered with faded yellow flannel and tiny black stars, where the word is scrawled. He feels a burn on his back where his own mark lies, and a corresponding tug in his heart.

As a lone tear slips over her cheek, Kaitlin looks away, like she's unable to face him. "You make me feel like I can't breathe."

She wipes angrily at the tear track, shuddering a breath that makes him want to wrap his arms around her slim frame, wants to pull her close against his chest, wants to wipe her tears away more gently than she had.

But he doesn't. It's not appropriate.

The whole world stops for a minute and everything goes silent. It seems the universe is giving him a chance to work things out in his head before he opens his mouth and ruins everything as he is prone to do.

"I've been getting a little of that myself," he confesses. Her face, so sad it breaks his heart, tips up to his. Never did Seth imagine that he could ever hurt this girl so badly, so unintentionally.

He licks his lips, scrubs a hand over his hair. Sighs from the bottom of his soul. "You amazed me, you know. Opened my eyes, shook my universe, change my life amazed me. And I didn't even see it coming."

"I did?" She's so young in the moment, so open. Seth feels a whir of emotion rise up in his chest and clog his throat, hoarsing his voice when he attempts to elaborate without making a mess.

"I was drowning, Kaitlin. I missed Summer so much that I let myself sink and if you hadn't been here…I'd be a mess right now. A bigger mess," he adds, hoping to get a smile out of her.

He succeeds, his soul blaring a 'hallelujah' before her face falls and he hears the comical 'wah-wah' in his head.

"But you're going back to Summer."

When Ryan asked him, Seth hadn't been able to answer. But Ryan isn't Kaitlin and Seth can't lie to her. He can't give her hope when he's not sure there is any. Yes, he wants her, and yes, he could reach out right now and touch her, kiss her, explore the swirling ball of feeling she creates in him without even trying.

"Do you think," he wonders aloud, "that it's possible to be in love with the totally right person and the totally wrong person at the same time?"

"Which one am I?"

Honestly? He's not so sure anymore and that's what he tells her, letting himself get lost in the storm of emotions he can see in the gray eyes, so like the ocean that lays beyond the coast back in Rhode Island, the ocean in Newport before an unexpected gale wracked the shore.

Seth never would have thought a situation like this could be possible; that Kaitlin Cooper, full of sass and attitude, defiant down to the bone, would ever find it in herself to allow him into her heart, no matter how much choice she got in the matter.

Probably the same amount he did.

Now they're here. They're caught in a snare and there are only two ways out; one smart and difficult and so very painful, and one stupid and reckless and so very painful for someone else. Someone they both love.

"I'm a comic geek," he says. "I draw characters out of the people around me and I make bad decisions." He looks at her, brushing the back of his hand down the hair trailing over her shoulder. "Growing up, I never thought a girl like you would look twice at me, all awkward and pale and stuttery…"

"That's not a word."

"I'm the guy who fell in love once and never got over it. Doing it again…"

"…would ruin everything." Her voice is barely audible, but the intention behind it cuts through Seth's heart like a hot blade through butter.

"Not ruin, just change it."

She regards him. Eyes dark, mouth set in a firm line. "And you're not a guy who likes change."

"Maybe a day will come when I'm looking for change."

"Maybe," she echoes and stands up, brushing past him to get to the stairs. She pauses, looks back at him. "Seth…"

Without speaking, he stands and walks over to her, the bottom step closing the four inches in height he has over her. A shake that has nothing to do with caffeine causes his fingers to tremble as they come to lay on her bare shoulder, brushing her hair back off her neck. Tentatively, Seth lowers his head and lets his mouth come to rest on hers.

Kaitlin's fingers find the fabric on his waist. She clutches at it, opening her mouth under his. He throws his whole body into it, fingers and mouth and chin and tongue, deepens the kiss with a soft sound in the back of his throat that makes her grip tighter, pressing into him with urgency, only pulling away when the lack of oxygen sets both their lungs on fire.

Silently, she turns and walks up the stairs.

……

Julie drops Taylor off on Tuesday night, Danny, Frank, and Bullit all in tow and rambunctious as ever, and stays for dinner.

When they leave for Newport, Kaitlin goes with them.

……

Summer calls that night and says she's coming for Labor Day.

Seth tells her he loves her, feeling two pangs in heart; one familiar, one not.

……

end.

…… ……

This turned out differently than I planned. Oh well.

Danny is just a name I chose at random. I don't think they ever named that kid, did they?