Ryan watched the police take away Volchok, a solemn expression on his face. Taylor stood off to the side counting to make sure all the money remained, but Ryan knew it was still there. Volchok was a lot of things, but not a compulsive buyer. He'd wanted to lure Ryan to a fight, and for once Ryan had tried thinking with his brain instead of his fists. And maybe, if he were to be honest, his heart. Weren't the two linked?

Ryan ran a hand through his hair, eyes scanning the room. Seth and Summer were nowhere to be found, which Ryan understood, and now that Taylor had all her money she was hanging with her date. Theresa had decided to leave right before the cops arrived – off to spend time with her son, which still baffled him. It had been an eventful night and he was tired, but he couldn't go home. Not yet.

It didn't take long to reach her house. Or, her new house, really. Summer's house. It still felt weird having Marissa living here, but he had never really spent a lot of time in the home. When they were still dating, she still lived in a trailer. They'd spent a lot of good times alone, seemingly shut off from the world inside those four thin walls. Nights when her mom was out and they didn't feel like using the pool house, they stayed in her trailer, making out, making love – anything but talking about all the pent up problems they simply tried to avoid.

He wondered if maybe they'd still be together if he had brought up Trey after the shooting. If maybe Johnny would have been spared. If maybe there never would have been a Sadie or Volchok or resumed drinking. No humiliation at prom. Maybe they'd have even gone together.

Then again, maybe talking about Trey would have torn them apart faster. Maybe they just weren't meant to be. It was possible. In all the time they'd known each other, they had spent more time apart than together, right?

Maybe he shouldn't be here, outside Summer's house. Maybe breaking up had been the right thing to do.

Maybe he should just go inside and see.

He knocked, his heart resembling the loud thudding. And then he waited. Would Summer's dad open the door? Wouldn't that be embarrassing. Or maybe Julie would open the door. Talk about a rough night.

But she opened the door. And she looked every bit as beautiful as she did at the end of the driveway almost three years ago. But even more, she looked strong. Theresa was right – Marissa had grown much stronger. She had blossomed before him, but he'd been too stuck in the past to realize it.

They just stared at each other for a minute, a thousand thoughts passing through both of their minds until Marissa finally awkwardly said, "Um. Hey."

Ryan blinked, realizing he hadn't spoken – wasn't their whole relationship like that? "Hey." He rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I just…" He trailed off, a brief smile flashing on his face. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Marissa's eyes brightened just the tiniest bit. She moved aside, gesturing towards the house. "Um, come in, if you want."

Ryan stepped inside, observing the dark house. It felt more intimate this way, the world blanketed in darkness, all their problems buried beneath the shadows. He turned to her as she closed the door, observing the graceful moves of her body. It had always amazed him how gracefully she walked, how impressive she looked even as he moved inside her, both thrown back in passion. Even now, he felt like the outsider, the delinquent next to the shining debutante. Even now, sometimes he felt utterly inadequate.

Marissa lifted her eyes to his, and it bothered him that he could no longer read her. Before, he had marveled at the way he could tell her things without ever parting his lips. Maybe he relied too much on that unspoken connection, maybe he'd relied solely on their looks. Maybe, maybe maybe.

Marissa finally quietly said, "Um… how was the rest of prom?"

Ryan slid his hands into his pockets, offering a small smile. "Um, boring," he said, which made the corners of her lips turn upwards. He scratched his nose, letting out an amused breath. "You missed the really interesting part though."

"Aside from Summer getting plastered and my boyfriend cheating on me?" Marissa asked, her voice light. But he could still see the humiliation buried beneath her false amusement.

Maybe he should have gone to Volchok's and beaten the guy's ass.

He didn't comment on what she said, just smiled slightly. "Well, Volchok got arrested." Marissa furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, so he explained. "He stole the money for the after party from Taylor."

Marissa folded her arms across her chest, raising her eyebrows. "Wow, some date I had," she murmured, more to herself than Ryan.

Ryan angled his head at her, trying to gauge her mood. "About that… are you…okay?"

Marissa rubbed her shoulders, shrugging. "I've had better nights." She lifted her eyes to his. "I've had worse."

What did that mean? "I guess," he finally said, shuffling awkwardly.

She gestured towards the living area, folding her legs under herself as she sat down on the couch. "How's Theresa?" she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Good," Ryan replied, lowering himself down on the other side of the couch. He remembered a time when he would've sat right next to her, their legs pressing together just because he wanted to feel her next to him. When did he stop needing that reassurance?

Maybe when she fell in love with Johnny.

"Good," Marissa repeated, their conversation once again at an impasse.

There was a time when he'd let the conversation end there, standing and making an excuse to leave; there was also a time when he'd reach over and caress her shoulder so no more words had to be said. Right now, he decided to be honest. She deserved that much. So did he. "I'm sorry he cheated."

Marissa glanced at him, meeting his eyes only briefly before looking down at her hands. "It's not your fault. I just…" She let out a bitter puff of air. "Have a way of dating the wrong guys."

"I hope I don't fall into that category," he found himself saying lightly. She looked up and their eyes met again.

"Because we turned out so great," she murmured, tucking her loose hair behind her ear again, averting her eyes.

"Because I could never regret us," Ryan replied after a moment's contemplation. He looked at her for a brief second before staring down at the space on the couch separating them. "And I guess I'd hope you wouldn't either."

Marissa sighed, rubbing her arms as if cold. "I don't," she said very quietly. "I…" She trailed off, meeting his serious gaze. They stared at each other for a long time, falling into that old habit of talking without the words.

But maybe the words just needed to be said.

"You what?" Ryan asked, resting his arm on the back of the couch, his fingers five inches from her shoulder.

Marissa looked away into the darkness, her eyes falling on the moon's light shining through the window. "I could never regret anything about our relationship." She shrugged, her shoulders falling despondently. "Even the bad."

Ryan didn't know what to say in reply to that. He didn't regret anything either. He couldn't regret anything with Marissa. He could wish things had gone differently. He could wish he'd said more or been distant less. He could apologize for all the times he must have made her feel small and sad, because he knew he had. But what good would that do?

"I guess I can't really regret anything either," he finally admitted, meeting her gaze once again.

"If you could do it all over again, would you?" Marissa asked, her eyes dark with vulnerability.

"Yes," he said, not even having to think about it. "I wouldn't change a thing." He thought about it for a second, then added, "Except, maybe Oliver."

Marissa smiled and let out a short laugh, making him smile. "Me too," she said, nodding.

Ryan leaned back a little, relaxing. "Okay, so how about this. Next year when we got to Berkeley, we have each other's backs. No more mistakes. I think we've made enough." He looked over at her. "No crazy psychos, no old friends getting pregnant, no imprisoned family members coming back to haunt us, no cheating boyfriends." He offered her a smile. "No drama."

Marissa smiled, nodding. "Sounds good." She leaned her head against the couch, observing him with a curious expression on her face.

"What?" he finally asked.

She opened her mouth, then bit her lip. "You…" She looked down, then back into his eyes. "You didn't mention Johnny."

"Oh." He shrugged, looking away. "I guess I figured you wouldn't call Johnny a mistake." At her quirked eyebrow, he added, "I mean, his death – yeah, that wasn't good. That was a mistake. But I guess I thought you…" He sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. "I guess I just thought you wouldn't regret him." At her continued unreadable expression, he stumbled over his words again. "I just…know he… meant a lot to you." You loved him, he added silently. You wished you'd chosen him.

Marissa let out a slight "hmmf" sound, trying to process this information. "Ryan, do you think…" She turned to him, staring at him very seriously. "Do you think I wish I had chosen him?"

How had they even started talking about all these old feelings? Ryan was always very careful not to bring up past hurt. "I don't know… maybe." Yes. "You were upset when he died…"

"Because he was my friend," Marissa added.

"I know," Ryan said, giving her a look. "But the way you treated me. The anger you seemed to have. I guess I just figured you wish you'd chosen him. He wouldn't have died…"

"And I would've lost you, the guy I loved," she said quietly, picking at the couch. She had lost him, either way. "Look, I know it doesn't mean anything now. You dated Sadie. You were happy with Sadie. You've moved on. I'm happy for you, really. It was good to see you happy again." She looked up at him, willing him to look into her eyes. He did. "But I didn't love Johnny. I never loved Johnny. I was never in love with Johnny." Only you. The words sat unspoken between them, just like so many others – they could build a world with all the words they had never said.

Ryan nodded, accepting her answer, and it changed something very small inside his chest. Things weren't simple anymore. They'd both dated someone new, and they'd both been hurt again. They had so many things to work through, so many conversations to have, and maybe this wasn't the right time to even think about anything more than friendship.

He reached over, brushing some hair from her shoulder, her skin still warm and electric beneath his fingers. She shivered, and he almost smiled because he knew she felt this too. It would always be there between them – this connection, this electricity. "Will you be okay?" he murmured, referring to the events from earlier that night.

Marissa stared at him through her long lashes, her voice husky and low. "I'll survive. I always do."

"If you need to talk…"

She smiled, nodding. "I know."

He ran his thumb along her shoulder, feeling her warm soft skin. Leaning over, he kissed her forehead gently. "I should get going. See where Seth is."

She nodded, her forehead burning from where he'd once again branded her with his touch. "I'll see you later, then."

He stood, squeezing her shoulder, smiling softly. "Count on it."

It wasn't anything special. Just a few touches. A tender kiss.

But maybe, just maybe, it could be a new beginning.

XXXXX

A/N Yeah, this sucked. Sorry :/ This was how it wanted to get written.