Glass
Rating: R-for future chapters/language.
Summary: Manipilative. Captivating. And so vunerable. Playing games is what it's all about. And she'll never admit she's losing. Welcome to the world of Summer Roberts.
Disclaimer: Welcome to My story bitch, I don't own the OC. Clearly. I just live in it.
A/N: yeah so here begins a story about Summer that I plan on mapping out. I have a few ideas mapped out fot his, and your reactions and reviews are appercitated greatly.
Waking up this beautiful is kind of hard, you know. Really it is. My nails are French manicured still. And pink pajama bottoms are sticking to my thighs. My lace tank top is kind of itching too. But despite all that I can't help but blame myself every morning for his mistakes. Even though my self-help books, say it totally isn't...But behind stretching out in rolls of pink and baby blue sheets, I find myself on the verge of tears again. But I'm better than tears. I'm better than him anyways. I mean look at me. Look at what I've always been. It isn't a secret to myself, and nobody makes it a secret. This is all I've ever known. So fuck him! In angry bursts I throw off the sheets. I run to my closet and pick out the hottest thing he's ever seen. He'll wish he never let me go this far. And I'll wish secretly to myself that I never let myself go this far. Perfect curls, and pink lips smacked, is all he will see. That's all he'll be able to see when I walk past him and show him what the hell he's been missing. Because in my book, there's only one rule, never loose...especially to Seth Cohen.
So with all that in mind, printed up in little books in my head, organized and stored. I repeat it like a mantra, and build up the fierceness that I know I totally have.
I find myself with new boys, laughing and hoping he's watching. Letting the sun pour into my hair and throwing back my head in fit of giggles. Strutting across the afternoon heat they all watch, I know he'll be crawling for me soon.
But when I'm alone...
Yes when I'm alone that all starts to cave in little crumbles. I try to hold it back. I try as hard as I can to focus on the little details around me. The way I make my bed 4 times, setting the pillows up just right. The way I paint my nails 6 times, each time a different color. It's not that I messed up or anything...it's just, I couldn't get the right color. I twirl my ponytail and try to meditate, I try to block out every single thing in my mind....but starts to come to me again.
Your loosing Summer Roberts....He's got you and you know it. It doesn't matter if he went away and left you. It doesn't matter if every single little feeling he left me was scribbled into a note. As I read it over and over again that self imposed bitchiness that had melted so much away with him started to build up in the ways that I'd realized I'd don't the one thing I've always vowed I would never do. I'd let him in. I'd let him see every single part of me, and obviously it wasn't good enough. It wasn't good enough as I read the scribbled words, and felt the tears build up against the rims of eyes. I was so pathetic. I realized then, I couldn't even keep the single promise I'd held to myself. The single thing that made up my existence. I was supposed to have control. It was me. It was always about me. Loosing it wasn't an option. And I had ended up weak, and crying on Seth Cohen's floor.
So that's why I was pathetic. I was pathetic. I was weak. He had won. I was done. The words started to leak in my mind. I tried to block them out. I tried to concentrate on the pink flowy letters on the self-help books, on the sparkles in my nails, and just hoping that maybe the moment would pass. It only got louder as I grabbed onto the carpet and shut my eyes tighter. It was no use. I had to do something.
"Face it you lost, your nothing anymore."
Whispers, repeated in my head. I couldn't shut it out no matter how many candles I burned, no matter how many books I books I bought, no matter how tall my shoes were, and how many boys I kissed. It didn't matter if my lips were glossy and my curls were perfect,
I was nothing now.
The heat of the early fall night filled the private street, and I knew exactly where I was going. I knew exactly what I was doing. And all I really wanted to hear was the sound of my flip-flops against the driveway and got into my car. Traces of summer still hung in the air. Like the way the windwhipped my hairacross my face, still warm from the day's heat. And as the music blasted through my stereo, all I wanted for once for it to be quiet. Driving along the shoreline with every thought running through my head.
I ended up wondering in the dark. The wet grass against my toenails. The door wasn't locked, and I couldn't see that well in the dark. It smelled like boys, and clean all at the same time. I couldn't see much. Just half unpacked bags, and rearranged furniture. I saw him in the middle of it. Sleeping on the pullout bed. Looking peaceful and asleep, and so quiet in despite of everything he had been through. He looked a little older, even in his sleep. I knew he had been home for about a week. Home....yeah he was home. Ryan and I were similar creatures.
You might not think that but as you looked at us we really were. Everything I did, everything I breathed people had always been looking at me. It was hard not to. His eyes started to open and I stood back a little. At first he looked confused. The only light the pale purple and yellow shadows against the glass sliding doors, and the blue light from the pool reflecting in the dark.
"Whose there?" He said alarmed at first. As I stood against the door I think he was expecting me to be Marissa. But instead of dark blue ones he saw brown.
"Hi" I said stepping into the light a little more, and he looked confused at first a little.
"Summer? Hey. What are you doing here?"
He said in such a Ryan like way. Like he had to take care of everyone or something. Like he had to be considered as to why I was in his bedroom in the middle of the night.
"I...just." And suddenly it occurred to me. It all broke through again, and this time not in crumbles. In chunks, and pieces, and everything and every part fell through. Streaming at first. I didn't realize it as I stood there crying in front of Ryan. Crying in the blue pool light, vulnerable and beautiful. I couldn't pretend in that exact moment with my intentions so built up in my head. I couldn't pretend in the blue light with pink flip flops on and my nails with six different coats on them. The little drops imperfect and unorganized. Choking on the air with sobs. All I could feel was him trying to comfort me awkwardly at first. Touching me, shushing me and trying to look me in the eyes. I put my head on him and sobbed. Me, Summer Roberts, crying in front of him, because really he was the only person I could cry in front of.
I had gone there to sleep with him. I had gone there to fill the sense of control that I longed for. Because I wasn't fine. I wasn't everything. And in those little moments in front of Ryan, all I could do was cry. And all I could do was realize. And I was loosing with every part of me that was sobbing right there. My hair stuck to my face, and I didn't know where else to go from here. Eventually forgetting in the blue pool light that I was supposed to come here to get back at Seth. That tonight I was supposed to sleep with Ryan and take back everything I had.
And even in my state of mind, I wondered if everything would ever be alright again.