Tennis, Anyone? Very early Season 1.
Just an FYI: I don't own The OC.
He didn't want to do this. If she had suggested say, walking down to the pier that Seth kept talking about, that'd be one thing. If she'd said, "Let's get ice cream and go see a movie," that'd be fine too. But this wasn't his style. In fact, it hadn't ever crossed his mind that this was Marissa Cooper's idea of fun.
"It's not so bad, man," Seth had said, coming into the poolhouse where Ryan was searching for anything - clothes that weren't wifebeater-friendly, a tennis racquet, anything. "I mean, yeah, she's been on varsity like, for a year now, and she could definitely kick my butt if she wanted to, but you know, she's probably going to cut you some slack."
"Thanks," Ryan said, continuing to look. He didn't want to say what he was thinking: that she was doing this because she wanted to make him feel welcome in Newport, and probably her mother'd approve of this at least. Julie was frowning on Ryan from the second she'd realized he'd ruined the Model Home Kirsten had designed and Caleb'd been all up about. But tennis was..well, refined.
"You want some, um, tennis clothes? Not that I have any; a Cohen does not have tennis clothes except if you're my mom, and I don't think a tennis skirt is you. Oh, and did Marissa say anything about making it doubles?" Seth kept talking, and Ryan looked up at him now. "I-I mean, Summer probably isn't good at tennis, and I played like, once at camp when they told me if I didn't play I'd basically be letting the entire bunk down from my capture the flag victory..but if Summer could come, I'd at least maybe get a chance against her."
"It's Marissa and I. Sorry, man, maybe next time," Ryan said. Next time. As if Marissa'd want to play with him past today. It was nice out, a comfortable day in Newport, yet Ryan knew he'd be hot and uncomfortable within minutes. And Seth would never make it with Summer if she saw him play tennis. Had anyone seen Seth play tennis in six years? Highly unlikely. But Seth had a plan.
"I still have my racquet," Seth said. "No, I do. I'm gonna go get it, you get all tennis-ready, and I'll meet you back here. You're going to be fine."
Seth's racquet was old. Ryan knew this as he met Marissa at the tennis courts. God, she was "tennis-ready", in Seth's terms. She looked at Ryan quizically through her sunglasses and for a second, Ryan could see a little Julie peeking through: what is he wearing? Ryan'd vetoed Seth's idea of a polo, but had tried to look appropriate. Marissa looked ready for Wimbledon.
"When you'd play last?" Ryan asked. He knew the answer already: probably yesterday. Sandy had told Ryan that Marissa had been taking lessons for as long as anyone could remember and was #1 singles at Harbor. This wasn't going to be easy.
"Um, a few days ago?" Marissa answered. "But don't worry. I'm not going to intimidate you."
"Oh, good," Ryan breathed.
"At least not right away," Marissa answered with a smile. "You ready, or are you just going to stand there?"
Marissa did let him get off easily, Ryan realized. She'd served perfectly, she'd hit perfectly, but she hadn't sent balls flying for Ryan to chase after. She hadn't chastized him on Seth's age-old racquet with strings ready to bust loose any second. She hadn't asked him why he was wearing a tshirt and shorts and some clunky old sneakers. She was as calming as she could possibly be.
"Hey," Ryan said finally, panting a bit. "You wanna stop for a little? Get some ice cream?"
"Sure," Marissa said. She stared over at Ryan, who breathed through his nose, feeling a slight cramp. "Ohmygod, are you okay? You look like you've just run a marathon or something."
"Just a cramp," Ryan said. Just a really painful one.
"Ryan, you're like, wheezing. Go sit down, okay? I'll go get you some ice cream from the snack bar." Marissa walked off quickly, as Ryan sat down. Nice going, Atwood. Seth'd probably tell him he himself would do better.
Marissa came back within a couple of minutes with an ice cream bar and a bottle of water. She watched him cautiously, as if she'd have to run next for a doctor. Slowly, the color returned to Ryan's face.
"All better?" she asked, reaching over for a small kiss.
"All better," Ryan smiled. Not enough for a rematch, but..
"You're pretty good," Marissa said. "No, really, you are. But I'd rather stop for the day and walk by the pier, if that's okay."
Ryan just kept smiling. He was better. In fact, things were beginning to look up, and definitely seem more than just okay.