Left Behind
Author: MacKynzie
Rating: PG
Summary: AU-- Ryan's mom takes him away from the Cohens before the Casino Party happens and then proceeds to ditch him again.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, just borrowing them. I promise to return them washed and waxed!
****
"Ugh, I wish I was dead."
Ryan groaned. Had he just said that out loud? Guess that means I'm not dead. Unfortunately.
He groaned again, slowly awakening, his body screaming in agony. He cracked his eyelids opens, suddenly aware of the rain drops assailing his face. Ryan opened his eyes fully, rudely jolted by a horn blaring. It shot through his brain, helping to clear the cobwebs.
He hurt. He hurt all over. His head, his arms, his legs, his chest, his stomach. But most of all his head. Ryan supposed this was what is felt like to have a timber spike jutting out of your forehead.
He carefully reached up and felt the offending area. No spike. Just blood. Ryan looked at his arm as a dart of pain ran through it. It hurt.
Ryan glanced up as a couple walked by. He was in an alley, next to a party store. A gas station blinked from across the street. He hoped there would be a bathroom he could use.
He very carefully maneuvered his body to a somewhat sitting position. Taking a deep breath, which hurt, he slowly stood up. Very slowly. It still hurt.
Ryan gently moved his neck, all clear. He stood up straighter and cracked his back. That hurt too.
Looking down, he searched the ground. For what? There was something missing, he just didn't know what. Ryan shook his head, bad move. A lightning bolt darted through it. He had this strange notion that there should be something near him. Suddenly it him. My bike! No, not his bike! Where was it? He searched the ground, almost frantically. It was nowhere in sight. He distinctly remembered them throwing it on the ground after they'd tossed him out. Not my bike!
But it was gone, stolen. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. Another thought struck him. His backpack! Please, God, not my backpack, too. He searched again. There! It was partially hidden underneath cardboard, it's dark shape virtually invisible to someone not looking for it. He picked it up and checked it. All the contents were there, what little there was.
Taking another deep breath, he put it on his back and started across the street, vaguely wondering what day it was. When had he been dumped there? Monday? Tuesday? He reached the gas station and walked around the side, searching for a bathroom. There. Ryan knocked on the door, no answer. He turned the knob and opened the door. Immediately, the stench of urine and vomit assailed him. Wrinkling his nose, he flipped the light switch, praying that it worked. It did, just barely.
The mirror was grimy and he could barely make out his face. Ryan wiped the glass off with his sleeve. The mirror was cracked, but even that couldn't hide how scary his face looked. Ryan reached up and touched his cheek, looking at the huge black and blue bruise that seemed to dominate the whole side of his face. He moved the hair off his forehead, there was a gash, crusty with blood and dirt.
Slowly, Ryan took off his jacket and backpack, he noticed the dark hand print bruise that encircled his left wrist. There was a strange hue to his forearm. He didn't think it was broken, though. He gently lifted his shirt up and clinically examined his torso. It was covered in bruises, they all appeared to be new, but at least a day or two old.
He didn't think there was anything wrong with his legs and he was too tired to check anyways. There was a dirty towel laying near the sink. Ryan mentally shrugged, he supposed it was better than nothing. He put his jacket and backpack back on and wet the towel, trying to rinse the grim off of it. Ryan very carefully wiped his face. The dirt and blood came off, but the bruises stayed. They always did, even when they were physically gone.
He cupped his hands and drank from the faucet, grateful for the cool water on his parched throat. He looked in the mirror again, his distorted and cracked image staring back at him. And laughing. That seemed to sum up the whole of his life. Distorted and cracked.
He sighed.
****
The party store was open. Party stores were always open because there were always people to party. He had no money in his pockets, it was liberated when they dumped him.
Ryan looked up, seeing a man coming towards him. He had a suit on and Ryan briefly wondered what he was doing in this neighborhood. Suits usually put their wallets in their breast pockets, mostly on the left side. The trench coat he was wearing wouldn't be a problem, not for Ryan anyways. He was closer now and Ryan stepped onto the sidewalk walking towards him. He put his head down, feeling a brief pang at how quickly he slipped back into that mode. The mark was talking on his phone, making Ryan's job much easier. They were only a few feet apart, Ryan moved into his side of the walkway. And then they were upon each other. He bumped into him just slightly, Ryan's hand darting into his pocket with lightning speed.
"Hey, watch it!" He said loudly, turning.
Ryan mumbled a barely audible apology and kept on walking. He heard no more shouts. The mark hadn't noticed. They rarely did.
Unfortunately for the suits of the world, Ryan was very good at borrowing wallets. He crossed the street, intent on going back to the party store. Ryan needed tobacco so badly right now, he was almost drooling.
Ryan checked the wallet. Thank God. He was afraid the suit wouldn't have any cash, considering the area. But he did. 50 bucks. Not bad, if he crunched he could stretch it for a week, maybe two. Ryan picked out the cash and tossed the wallet near the steps of an apartment building. When he had first started, he used to turn the wallets in, sans the cash. That became too much of a bother though. Ryan shook his head. He swore he was going to Hell in a hand basket.
He finally came to the party store and went in. It was empty except for the cashier and a guy who looked like he lived in a dumpster was filling out a lotto sheet. The sign read that there was a $50 million dollar jackpot there for the taking. Ryan's eyes settled below that. Today was Wednesday. The sign proclaimed the jackpot would go up tomorrow. God, Wednesday. It had been almost two weeks since his mom ripped him out of the Cohen household. Two weeks, it felt like two years.
The old Indian at the counter gave Ryan the eye, but he just ignored it and asked for a pack of smokes. He got the cheapest ones they had, he was trying to conserve money after all. If the guy thought Ryan was under 18, he didn't care, he just got them and rang them up.
"2.98."
Ryan pulled out his new wad and handed him a twenty. A thought occurred to him. Ryan felt his pockets. Sure enough, the comforting weight of his lighter was gone. Was nothing sacred? He picked one out of a display and set it on the counter. The clerk handed him his change. $45.02 left to spend.
Ryan walked out. Impatient, he ripped the packaging off. Ryan pulled one out and promptly lit it. Ahhh. The poison filled his lungs and he didn't think he'd ever tasted anything sweeter.
Two weeks. How could it only have been two weeks? He'd promised Seth he would call him. Seth said a week at the latest. Ryan wondered if he cared, or if he was worried that it had been two. He probably was. Ryan smiled slightly at the thought.
The clock in the store had read 11:36 p.m. It probably wasn't too late to call. Seth rarely went to bed before 1:00 a.m. Ryan spied a pay phone down the street.
Ryan went back into the party store and asked for some quarters. The clerk barely acknowledged him. He handed them to Ryan and he went out, the homeless guy was still filling out his sheet.
Ryan headed in the direction of the payphone, smoking the much needed cigarette. It was still raining, but it was more of a drizzle. He zipped up his jacket, trying to ward off the chill. Ryan reached the phone, it was dirty, but it would work.
Ryan dialed the number from memory and fervently hoped that Seth would answer.
"Hello." He did.
"Hey, man. It's Ryan."
"I know, wow …well, what's up? It's been like, what, two weeks now? Where you been? My parents have been worried." Seth said in one breath. To say he was surprised would be an understatement. He had been beginning to doubt that Ryan would ever call.
"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. I just…there wasn't really time before." Ryan said rather lamely.
"No time, huh?" Seth didn't buy it, but he let it go. "So, where you at? How's it going?"
"Uh, well, it's going. I'm staying around." Ryan bit his tongue, hoping Seth wouldn't pick up on his little slip.
"You're staying around? Where's your -- ?" Seth noticed it right away.
"We're staying around." Ryan broke in quickly. Seth still didn't buy it. Ryan's voice was hoarse and there was a strange note he hadn't heard before.
"Where's your mom, Ryan?" He asked seriously.
"She's here…she's just, uh, sleeping." Ryan hit his hand on his forehead at the idiot thing he had just blurted. Of course Seth would know that he was calling from a payphone. Ryan mentally cursed himself and took another drag from his cigarette.
"Sleeping? Ryan, I know you're calling from a payphone. It's called the miracle of Caller ID. Where is she, really? Are you okay?" The concern in Seth's voice was unmistakable and for a second it was comforting to know someone did care.
Ryan shook himself out of it and shoved aside Seth's concern.
"Seth, really, I'm okay. Everything's peachy." Ryan knew he was laying it on a little thick, but he just wanted this conversation over.
Seth sensed Ryan's unease and eagerness to get off the phone.
"Ryan, wait. Are you nearby? Maybe I could meet you, we could go out to lunch tomorrow, or something."
"I don't know, Seth." Ryan knew that would be a bad idea The chances were way too high that he would slip and admit that she was gone and that he really had no idea what he was going to do. But for some reason, Ryan just couldn't bring himself to say no.
"Come on, it'll be fun. We'll go buy the pier again, it'll be great."
Ryan sighed and Seth heard what he guessed was Ryan lighting a cigarette.
"I guess. But not the pier. There's a Coney Island on Gertie and Jamison in Chino. If you don't mind slumming it, that is."
"What? No, that'd be great. I'll be there. How about 11:00?" Seth exclaimed, happy and surprised that Ryan had agreed.
"How about Marissa? I know she'd love to come and see you." Maybe that had been pushing it. Ryan sighed again.
Ah, Marissa. She was still a bit of a sore spot. Ryan had never said goodbye to her. Him and his mom had come back from shopping, and she'd said it was high time that the two of them got out of there. Kirsten had invited them to the casino party, but his Mom refused and then they left. Just like that.
Ryan frowned, thinking. She had looked sad and worried, Mrs. Cohen, that is. Like she really wanted them to stay. Mr. Cohen had too, insisting they would still see each other. Seth was the hardest to say goodbye too. They had gotten kinda close in the short time they had known each other. Ryan never really let himself get close to anyone, but Seth was a welcome exception. Marissa, too, in some respects. And that brought him back to Marissa. Ryan seriously doubted she'd even want to talk to him. After all, they had ended things kind of badly. Or, he had ended things badly. But yet again, Ryan couldn't make himself say no to Seth.
"Whatever. I'll see ya' tomorrow." Ryan hung up, strangely relieved and depressed at the same time.
He shook it off, not entirely successful. But now he had to think about tonight. Laying in an alley for two days had been okay when he was unconscious, but that wasn't going to cut it for tonight.
****
Seth listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before he finally hung up. Ryan hadn't sounded good, not good at all. There was something in his tone. Like, defeat or something. He sounded like that when Seth went to see him in juvie.
"What to do, what to do?" Seth asked himself. Ryan's mom obviously hadn't been sleeping in the next room like he had wanted him to believe. Did that mean that she had ditched him, yet again?
"Probably."
Seth frowned, he really couldn't believe he'd gotten Ryan to agree to lunch tomorrow. He had been sure he'd say no. In fact, Ryan almost had. Gertie and Jamison? Seth had no idea where that was.
"Dad was right. We do live in a bubble."
Seth thoughtfully pondered that. He could probably ask him. Ryan hadn't said anything about not telling his parents. He probably wouldn't mind, they were concerned too, after all. Yeah, right. Ryan would definitely be pissed if Sandy showed up.
But what else could he do? Seth had no idea how to find his way around Chino and he would have to borrow the car. A no-win situation.
Oh, well. Ryan would have to get over it. Sandy had been to Chino lots of time for cases. Seth left the sanctuary of his room and headed downstairs, hoping his dad was up.
He heard voices.
"Kirsten, it's been two weeks! He said he'd call in a week. I'm really worried. Maybe I should start checking at shelters tomorrow."
"Sandy, he'll call. This has probably been a little hectic for him."
"Do you really think he'll call?"
"Really?" A pause "No, not really."
"Well, speak of the devil." Seth said, breaking in. "You're both wrong. That was him."
"What'd I tell you, Sandy? I knew he would call." Kirsten smiled, looking somewhat pleased with herself.
"Well, what'd he say? Is he okay? Where's he at?" Sandy demanded impatiently.
"Uh, well, I don't know exactly." Seth answered, unsure of what to tell them.
"What do you mean, you don't know?" Kirsten asked, obviously worried.
"Well, he said he was okay. Which I take with a grain of salt and I don't know where he's at. Somewhere in Chino, I think."
"How did he sound?" This from Sandy.
"Not good. He insisted everything was fine, but…"
"Where's his mom?"
"He said she was there, but I don't really think so." Seth answered, his uncertainty apparent.
"Oh, Sandy, what are we going to do? What if he's just living on the streets?" Kirsten said, fairly frantic now.
"I don't know." Sandy answered, clearly thinking.
"If it's true, if his mother is gone…. I want him here." Kirsten stated with finality.
"Here as in…?" Seth asked, not wanting to get his hopes up.
"Here as in living here, in this house, a part of our family." Sandy looked over at his wife.
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
"Great!" Seth exclaimed, excited.
Kirsten looked worried again. "How are we going to tell him? Did he give you a number?"
"Uh, no, but I got something even better."
"What?" They exploded together.
"We're meeting for lunch tomorrow. In Chino, a Coney Island."
"That's great! We'll all go." Kirsten said, looking excited.
"No." Seth and Sandy resounded at the same time. Seth looked at his dad in surprise.
"I don't think that's a good idea. Honey, you know how Ryan is. I think right now he trusts Seth more than us. He might not like it if we show up."
"You're probably right." Kirsten replied thoughtfully.
"Yes, he is." Seth filled in. "Are you guys sure about this?"
"Why, of course, Seth. Why do you ask?" Sandy turned to his son, surprised.
"Well, I just…If something happens or you change your minds…"
"Seth, we're very sure about this. We're not going to kick Ryan out, even if 'something' happens. Besides, 'things' have already happened. Right? " Sandy replied, resolutely, looking at Kirsten for support.
"That's absolutely right." She answered.
"Okay, then. Let's do this."
****
Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!!! Ryan felt as if his head was going to explode. That idiot who seemed more than just slightly mentally unstable had been talking to his sock for the past hour. That's it.
"Hey, shut up, already. Some of us are trying to sleep." Ryan exclaimed. Several others chimed in in agreement.
"It's okay, pay no attention to the heathens." The man comforted his sock, looking offended.
Ryan sighed for the umpteenth time and rolled over, jamming the pillow over his ear. He was definitely going to have to figure out alternate living arrangements for tomorrow. The shelter was run by a bunch of do-gooders who cared nothing for it except for the tax right-off. And it smelled. Badly. And it was crowded. And it smelled. And it was filled with nut jobs. But it was a bed. Not warm and certainly not clean, but it was a bed.
He had thought about going to a different one that he knew of that was run by a church. They, however, would care about his age and call Child Services. Child. He hadn't been a child in a very long time. Maybe never.
So this stinking hell hole had been his only real option. It's only redeeming feature was the shower, which he had promptly used. There hadn't been a line; most of the people staying here hadn't graced a shower in ages and they certainly weren't about to start now.
"Hello."
Ryan flinched and ripped the pillow off his head. There was a man hovering over him.
"Yes." He said, rudely. These people would eat you alive if you gave them the chance.
"You're very young to be here."
"So?" Ryan asked sharply.
"Where's your family? You're very handsome, you know." The man was leering at him now. Okay, enough of this shit.
"That's it buddy. Get the fuck away from me." Ryan said, almost growling. He was sitting up, fully prepared to jump off the bed and let the sicko have it.
"Hey, hey," The man smiled putting his hands out defensively. "I was just making conversation."
"Whatever. Get the fuck away from me." Ryan demanded, he was standing now, his senses fully alert.
"Alright, alright." The man gave him another wide grin and shuffled away. He turned. "I'll be over there if you need some company."
Ryan didn't respond. If there was thing he was certain of, it was that he sure as hell wouldn't be sleeping tonight.
****
"Hello?"
"Hey, Marissa. It's Seth."
"Hey, what's up?"
"Yeah…well, Ryan called." Seth started, unsure how to proceed.
"Oh?" Marissa answered, trying to sound disinterested. But the truth was that she was very interested. She had been thinking about him constantly. Seth had mentioned Ryan would call after a week, but he hadn't and she had been way too disappointed. She still couldn't believe that he had left without a single goodbye. Marissa had thought she meant something to him. After his stint in juvie and everything that had happened, she hadn't seen him, so maybe she had been expecting too much. Then again, in the short time she knew Ryan, she had begun to see how he was. Marissa had never met anyone so closed off and guarded. But she had seen his guard down, if only briefly, and she had liked it. Things with Luke were still rocky, Marissa honestly didn't know how much longer they would last.
"Marissa?" Seth asked.
"Oh, what?"
"I was just saying that we're going to meet. For lunch, and…I…well, I'm sure he'd like you to come."
"Well…I don't know Seth. I mean, he didn't even say goodbye, so I'm sure he'll really care if I'm there or not." Marissa sniffed.
"Marissa, come on. You know how he is. It really killed him that they just took off like that. He really wanted to, you have to believe that." Seth said emphatically, sure it was true.
"Yeah. Well, okay. What time, where at?" She acquiesced, she really did want to go and see him, see how he really was.
"11:00 at a Coney Island in Chino. You driving?"
"I guess. You got directions?"
"Yep."
"Okay, well, I'll meet out front at, like, 10:30."
"It's a date."
"Goodbye Seth." Marissa hung up, smiling despite herself. She looked at the clock. 9:00. She had never been so excited for lunch before.
****
"There, there it is." Seth pointed.
"I see it, I see it. Man, this is a lot different from Newport."
"No kidding." Seth affirmed. They pulled in and found a parking spot.
"Any sign of him?" Marissa questioned, anxious.
"No, but it's only 10:50. I didn't think we'd get here this quickly."
"Hey, I follow the speed limit." Marissa said, indignantly.
"Yeah, for the Autobahn." Seth answered wryly.
She chuckled slightly. "I got us here, didn't I?"
"Just barely, Marissa." They reached the door and walked in, searching for Ryan.
"I don't see him." Seth said, disappointed. He was worried Ryan wouldn't show.
"Me neither." Marissa replied, sounding just as upset.
"It's still early, lets sit over there." Seth motioned in the direction of a secluded booth with a clear view of the door.
And they waited.
****
"Hey, man, what time is it?" Ryan asked the clerk as he fetched a pack of cigarettes.
"Uh, 11:25. $3.78"
"Shit." Ryan mumbled under his breath and handed the cashier his money. He was late. Ryan accepted the pack and walked out of the gas station. Pulling out a smoke, he lit it. He'd chain-smoked the other pack while he sat under the stoop of the shelter.
Ryan started down the street, a giant yawn overtaking him. He hadn't slept at all last night. He'd just sat there, smoking. Eventually he'd gotten up and walked the streets. He'd gone back to the shelter to take a shower before they closed it for the daytime and kicked everyone out.
At least he smelled good. Thank God he'd had a change of clothes in his backpack. He would hate to see Seth wrinkle his nose in disgust. His jacket smelled like liquor and smoke but there wasn't anything he could do about that.
The Coney Island was just around the corner. Ryan wondered if Seth would still be there, or if he had taken off.
He crossed the street and came upon the Coney. Ryan searched the parking lot for the Cohen car. He didn't see it. He almost turned back, but Ryan did need to eat something. It would be good to just sit.
He paused outside the door, lighting another cigarette. He would be out of money very shortly if he kept smoking like this. Ryan pulled the glass door open, the bell tinkled merrily above.
Ryan's eyes scanned the restaurant. He didn't see Seth. Ryan felt his heart drop. It was his own fault though, he was a half hour late.
"Ryan, over here!" Seth's voice rang throughout the place.
Ryan's head shot up, Seth was waving to him from across the restaurant.
"Hey." Ryan raised his hand and made his way through the maze of tables. Seth was sitting with someone. A very thin, dark-haired someone. Marissa. Ryan's stomach did a flutter, but it could have been the smell from the kitchen.
"Hey, Seth. Marissa." Ryan greeted as he slid in the booth next to Seth. Marissa gasped, she was staring at his face.
"Ryan, man, what the hell happened to your face." Seth asked, a shocked look on his face.
"Uh, it's nothing."
"Nothing….Ryan…" Marissa said, having found her voice.
"Yeah…I ran into, uh, a wall." Ryan faltered, he'd forgotten how horrendous his face looked. He'd be scared if he ran into himself in a dark alley.
"Ryan, I think I speak for both of us when I say 'Yeah, right.'" Seth spoke up.
"I'm fine. Sorry I'm late. I lost track of time. Didn't think you'd still be here." Ryan spoke honestly.
"Yeah, like we'd leave without seeing. We were beginning to think you wouldn't show, though."
"So, what's up in the O.C.?" Ryan asked.
"Nothing much." Seth looked at Marissa. "Yeah, not a whole lot."
"Sounds exciting." Ryan forced a smile.
"Are you guys ready to order?" A waitress approached, pad and pen in hand.
"Uh, I think he'll need to look at a menu." Marissa answered motioning to Ryan.
"No, I'll just have water and a plate of white toast. Separate checks, please." Ryan cut in.
Seth and Marissa placed their orders, each surprised at Ryan's choice.
"Toast?" Seth questioned as the waitress left.
"I had breakfast." Ryan shrugged. In truth, he was starving. Ryan knew from bitter experience that if he gulped down a meal after not eating for a few days, he'd be puking everywhere. Already, the smell from the kitchen was making him nauseous.
Marissa frowned. She was studying him. Ryan looked horrible. His normally very handsome face was pale, gaunt, and terribly bruised.
Ryan looked up to face Marissa's intense stare. He looked away and back to her.
"What?"
"Nothing, I just…Where's your--?"
"Here ya' are." The waitress set their plates and drinks down. Marissa cursed her bad timing.
"Thanks." Ryan said, accepting the water from her. Seth frowned, Ryan's sleeve moved down, there was something dark on his arm.
Seth reached over and gently pulled the sleeve down farther. Ryan yanked his arm away, flinching at the unexpected contact.
"What?" Ryan demanded. He hated when people touched him, especially when he wasn't ready for it.
"Nothing. What's on your arm?" Seth asked, curious. He reached over again. This time Ryan let him, curious as to what he was talking about.
"Oh, my God. Ryan, that's a --" Seth gently put his hand in the shape of the ugly bruise that encircled Ryan's wrist.
Marissa stared, shocked. How hard would you have to grab someone to make a bruise like that?
Ryan pulled his arm away. "It's nothing." Ryan glanced at Seth and then Marissa out of the corner of his eyes.
"Nothing, Ryan, this looks like something to me. Who did this? I mean, God, your face, your arm. What the hell happened?" Seth questioned, concerned.
"Look, it's no big deal, really. I'm fine." Ryan said, not meeting their eyes. Right now, he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, himself or them. Suddenly, his stomach lurched. Uh oh. Yeah, it was definitely time to hit the bathroom. Already, he felt the bile rising.
Ryan almost jumped from the table, knocking his glass of water.
"I'll be right back." He said, nearly running to the bathroom.
"Ryan?" Seth watched him go, unsure of what had just happened.
"What the hell was that?" Marissa said, concerned.
"I have no idea. He looked kinda sick, there. I think I'll go check on him." Seth slid out of the booth.
"Good idea. I hope he's okay." Marissa replied, upset.
"You and me both." Seth answered, walking away. He didn't think Ryan had ever been 'okay.'
****
Thanks for reading, that's it for now. I promise to have more up soon! Don't forget to review!
MacKynzie
Author: MacKynzie
Rating: PG
Summary: AU-- Ryan's mom takes him away from the Cohens before the Casino Party happens and then proceeds to ditch him again.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, just borrowing them. I promise to return them washed and waxed!
****
"Ugh, I wish I was dead."
Ryan groaned. Had he just said that out loud? Guess that means I'm not dead. Unfortunately.
He groaned again, slowly awakening, his body screaming in agony. He cracked his eyelids opens, suddenly aware of the rain drops assailing his face. Ryan opened his eyes fully, rudely jolted by a horn blaring. It shot through his brain, helping to clear the cobwebs.
He hurt. He hurt all over. His head, his arms, his legs, his chest, his stomach. But most of all his head. Ryan supposed this was what is felt like to have a timber spike jutting out of your forehead.
He carefully reached up and felt the offending area. No spike. Just blood. Ryan looked at his arm as a dart of pain ran through it. It hurt.
Ryan glanced up as a couple walked by. He was in an alley, next to a party store. A gas station blinked from across the street. He hoped there would be a bathroom he could use.
He very carefully maneuvered his body to a somewhat sitting position. Taking a deep breath, which hurt, he slowly stood up. Very slowly. It still hurt.
Ryan gently moved his neck, all clear. He stood up straighter and cracked his back. That hurt too.
Looking down, he searched the ground. For what? There was something missing, he just didn't know what. Ryan shook his head, bad move. A lightning bolt darted through it. He had this strange notion that there should be something near him. Suddenly it him. My bike! No, not his bike! Where was it? He searched the ground, almost frantically. It was nowhere in sight. He distinctly remembered them throwing it on the ground after they'd tossed him out. Not my bike!
But it was gone, stolen. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. Another thought struck him. His backpack! Please, God, not my backpack, too. He searched again. There! It was partially hidden underneath cardboard, it's dark shape virtually invisible to someone not looking for it. He picked it up and checked it. All the contents were there, what little there was.
Taking another deep breath, he put it on his back and started across the street, vaguely wondering what day it was. When had he been dumped there? Monday? Tuesday? He reached the gas station and walked around the side, searching for a bathroom. There. Ryan knocked on the door, no answer. He turned the knob and opened the door. Immediately, the stench of urine and vomit assailed him. Wrinkling his nose, he flipped the light switch, praying that it worked. It did, just barely.
The mirror was grimy and he could barely make out his face. Ryan wiped the glass off with his sleeve. The mirror was cracked, but even that couldn't hide how scary his face looked. Ryan reached up and touched his cheek, looking at the huge black and blue bruise that seemed to dominate the whole side of his face. He moved the hair off his forehead, there was a gash, crusty with blood and dirt.
Slowly, Ryan took off his jacket and backpack, he noticed the dark hand print bruise that encircled his left wrist. There was a strange hue to his forearm. He didn't think it was broken, though. He gently lifted his shirt up and clinically examined his torso. It was covered in bruises, they all appeared to be new, but at least a day or two old.
He didn't think there was anything wrong with his legs and he was too tired to check anyways. There was a dirty towel laying near the sink. Ryan mentally shrugged, he supposed it was better than nothing. He put his jacket and backpack back on and wet the towel, trying to rinse the grim off of it. Ryan very carefully wiped his face. The dirt and blood came off, but the bruises stayed. They always did, even when they were physically gone.
He cupped his hands and drank from the faucet, grateful for the cool water on his parched throat. He looked in the mirror again, his distorted and cracked image staring back at him. And laughing. That seemed to sum up the whole of his life. Distorted and cracked.
He sighed.
****
The party store was open. Party stores were always open because there were always people to party. He had no money in his pockets, it was liberated when they dumped him.
Ryan looked up, seeing a man coming towards him. He had a suit on and Ryan briefly wondered what he was doing in this neighborhood. Suits usually put their wallets in their breast pockets, mostly on the left side. The trench coat he was wearing wouldn't be a problem, not for Ryan anyways. He was closer now and Ryan stepped onto the sidewalk walking towards him. He put his head down, feeling a brief pang at how quickly he slipped back into that mode. The mark was talking on his phone, making Ryan's job much easier. They were only a few feet apart, Ryan moved into his side of the walkway. And then they were upon each other. He bumped into him just slightly, Ryan's hand darting into his pocket with lightning speed.
"Hey, watch it!" He said loudly, turning.
Ryan mumbled a barely audible apology and kept on walking. He heard no more shouts. The mark hadn't noticed. They rarely did.
Unfortunately for the suits of the world, Ryan was very good at borrowing wallets. He crossed the street, intent on going back to the party store. Ryan needed tobacco so badly right now, he was almost drooling.
Ryan checked the wallet. Thank God. He was afraid the suit wouldn't have any cash, considering the area. But he did. 50 bucks. Not bad, if he crunched he could stretch it for a week, maybe two. Ryan picked out the cash and tossed the wallet near the steps of an apartment building. When he had first started, he used to turn the wallets in, sans the cash. That became too much of a bother though. Ryan shook his head. He swore he was going to Hell in a hand basket.
He finally came to the party store and went in. It was empty except for the cashier and a guy who looked like he lived in a dumpster was filling out a lotto sheet. The sign read that there was a $50 million dollar jackpot there for the taking. Ryan's eyes settled below that. Today was Wednesday. The sign proclaimed the jackpot would go up tomorrow. God, Wednesday. It had been almost two weeks since his mom ripped him out of the Cohen household. Two weeks, it felt like two years.
The old Indian at the counter gave Ryan the eye, but he just ignored it and asked for a pack of smokes. He got the cheapest ones they had, he was trying to conserve money after all. If the guy thought Ryan was under 18, he didn't care, he just got them and rang them up.
"2.98."
Ryan pulled out his new wad and handed him a twenty. A thought occurred to him. Ryan felt his pockets. Sure enough, the comforting weight of his lighter was gone. Was nothing sacred? He picked one out of a display and set it on the counter. The clerk handed him his change. $45.02 left to spend.
Ryan walked out. Impatient, he ripped the packaging off. Ryan pulled one out and promptly lit it. Ahhh. The poison filled his lungs and he didn't think he'd ever tasted anything sweeter.
Two weeks. How could it only have been two weeks? He'd promised Seth he would call him. Seth said a week at the latest. Ryan wondered if he cared, or if he was worried that it had been two. He probably was. Ryan smiled slightly at the thought.
The clock in the store had read 11:36 p.m. It probably wasn't too late to call. Seth rarely went to bed before 1:00 a.m. Ryan spied a pay phone down the street.
Ryan went back into the party store and asked for some quarters. The clerk barely acknowledged him. He handed them to Ryan and he went out, the homeless guy was still filling out his sheet.
Ryan headed in the direction of the payphone, smoking the much needed cigarette. It was still raining, but it was more of a drizzle. He zipped up his jacket, trying to ward off the chill. Ryan reached the phone, it was dirty, but it would work.
Ryan dialed the number from memory and fervently hoped that Seth would answer.
"Hello." He did.
"Hey, man. It's Ryan."
"I know, wow …well, what's up? It's been like, what, two weeks now? Where you been? My parents have been worried." Seth said in one breath. To say he was surprised would be an understatement. He had been beginning to doubt that Ryan would ever call.
"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. I just…there wasn't really time before." Ryan said rather lamely.
"No time, huh?" Seth didn't buy it, but he let it go. "So, where you at? How's it going?"
"Uh, well, it's going. I'm staying around." Ryan bit his tongue, hoping Seth wouldn't pick up on his little slip.
"You're staying around? Where's your -- ?" Seth noticed it right away.
"We're staying around." Ryan broke in quickly. Seth still didn't buy it. Ryan's voice was hoarse and there was a strange note he hadn't heard before.
"Where's your mom, Ryan?" He asked seriously.
"She's here…she's just, uh, sleeping." Ryan hit his hand on his forehead at the idiot thing he had just blurted. Of course Seth would know that he was calling from a payphone. Ryan mentally cursed himself and took another drag from his cigarette.
"Sleeping? Ryan, I know you're calling from a payphone. It's called the miracle of Caller ID. Where is she, really? Are you okay?" The concern in Seth's voice was unmistakable and for a second it was comforting to know someone did care.
Ryan shook himself out of it and shoved aside Seth's concern.
"Seth, really, I'm okay. Everything's peachy." Ryan knew he was laying it on a little thick, but he just wanted this conversation over.
Seth sensed Ryan's unease and eagerness to get off the phone.
"Ryan, wait. Are you nearby? Maybe I could meet you, we could go out to lunch tomorrow, or something."
"I don't know, Seth." Ryan knew that would be a bad idea The chances were way too high that he would slip and admit that she was gone and that he really had no idea what he was going to do. But for some reason, Ryan just couldn't bring himself to say no.
"Come on, it'll be fun. We'll go buy the pier again, it'll be great."
Ryan sighed and Seth heard what he guessed was Ryan lighting a cigarette.
"I guess. But not the pier. There's a Coney Island on Gertie and Jamison in Chino. If you don't mind slumming it, that is."
"What? No, that'd be great. I'll be there. How about 11:00?" Seth exclaimed, happy and surprised that Ryan had agreed.
"How about Marissa? I know she'd love to come and see you." Maybe that had been pushing it. Ryan sighed again.
Ah, Marissa. She was still a bit of a sore spot. Ryan had never said goodbye to her. Him and his mom had come back from shopping, and she'd said it was high time that the two of them got out of there. Kirsten had invited them to the casino party, but his Mom refused and then they left. Just like that.
Ryan frowned, thinking. She had looked sad and worried, Mrs. Cohen, that is. Like she really wanted them to stay. Mr. Cohen had too, insisting they would still see each other. Seth was the hardest to say goodbye too. They had gotten kinda close in the short time they had known each other. Ryan never really let himself get close to anyone, but Seth was a welcome exception. Marissa, too, in some respects. And that brought him back to Marissa. Ryan seriously doubted she'd even want to talk to him. After all, they had ended things kind of badly. Or, he had ended things badly. But yet again, Ryan couldn't make himself say no to Seth.
"Whatever. I'll see ya' tomorrow." Ryan hung up, strangely relieved and depressed at the same time.
He shook it off, not entirely successful. But now he had to think about tonight. Laying in an alley for two days had been okay when he was unconscious, but that wasn't going to cut it for tonight.
****
Seth listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before he finally hung up. Ryan hadn't sounded good, not good at all. There was something in his tone. Like, defeat or something. He sounded like that when Seth went to see him in juvie.
"What to do, what to do?" Seth asked himself. Ryan's mom obviously hadn't been sleeping in the next room like he had wanted him to believe. Did that mean that she had ditched him, yet again?
"Probably."
Seth frowned, he really couldn't believe he'd gotten Ryan to agree to lunch tomorrow. He had been sure he'd say no. In fact, Ryan almost had. Gertie and Jamison? Seth had no idea where that was.
"Dad was right. We do live in a bubble."
Seth thoughtfully pondered that. He could probably ask him. Ryan hadn't said anything about not telling his parents. He probably wouldn't mind, they were concerned too, after all. Yeah, right. Ryan would definitely be pissed if Sandy showed up.
But what else could he do? Seth had no idea how to find his way around Chino and he would have to borrow the car. A no-win situation.
Oh, well. Ryan would have to get over it. Sandy had been to Chino lots of time for cases. Seth left the sanctuary of his room and headed downstairs, hoping his dad was up.
He heard voices.
"Kirsten, it's been two weeks! He said he'd call in a week. I'm really worried. Maybe I should start checking at shelters tomorrow."
"Sandy, he'll call. This has probably been a little hectic for him."
"Do you really think he'll call?"
"Really?" A pause "No, not really."
"Well, speak of the devil." Seth said, breaking in. "You're both wrong. That was him."
"What'd I tell you, Sandy? I knew he would call." Kirsten smiled, looking somewhat pleased with herself.
"Well, what'd he say? Is he okay? Where's he at?" Sandy demanded impatiently.
"Uh, well, I don't know exactly." Seth answered, unsure of what to tell them.
"What do you mean, you don't know?" Kirsten asked, obviously worried.
"Well, he said he was okay. Which I take with a grain of salt and I don't know where he's at. Somewhere in Chino, I think."
"How did he sound?" This from Sandy.
"Not good. He insisted everything was fine, but…"
"Where's his mom?"
"He said she was there, but I don't really think so." Seth answered, his uncertainty apparent.
"Oh, Sandy, what are we going to do? What if he's just living on the streets?" Kirsten said, fairly frantic now.
"I don't know." Sandy answered, clearly thinking.
"If it's true, if his mother is gone…. I want him here." Kirsten stated with finality.
"Here as in…?" Seth asked, not wanting to get his hopes up.
"Here as in living here, in this house, a part of our family." Sandy looked over at his wife.
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
"Great!" Seth exclaimed, excited.
Kirsten looked worried again. "How are we going to tell him? Did he give you a number?"
"Uh, no, but I got something even better."
"What?" They exploded together.
"We're meeting for lunch tomorrow. In Chino, a Coney Island."
"That's great! We'll all go." Kirsten said, looking excited.
"No." Seth and Sandy resounded at the same time. Seth looked at his dad in surprise.
"I don't think that's a good idea. Honey, you know how Ryan is. I think right now he trusts Seth more than us. He might not like it if we show up."
"You're probably right." Kirsten replied thoughtfully.
"Yes, he is." Seth filled in. "Are you guys sure about this?"
"Why, of course, Seth. Why do you ask?" Sandy turned to his son, surprised.
"Well, I just…If something happens or you change your minds…"
"Seth, we're very sure about this. We're not going to kick Ryan out, even if 'something' happens. Besides, 'things' have already happened. Right? " Sandy replied, resolutely, looking at Kirsten for support.
"That's absolutely right." She answered.
"Okay, then. Let's do this."
****
Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!!! Ryan felt as if his head was going to explode. That idiot who seemed more than just slightly mentally unstable had been talking to his sock for the past hour. That's it.
"Hey, shut up, already. Some of us are trying to sleep." Ryan exclaimed. Several others chimed in in agreement.
"It's okay, pay no attention to the heathens." The man comforted his sock, looking offended.
Ryan sighed for the umpteenth time and rolled over, jamming the pillow over his ear. He was definitely going to have to figure out alternate living arrangements for tomorrow. The shelter was run by a bunch of do-gooders who cared nothing for it except for the tax right-off. And it smelled. Badly. And it was crowded. And it smelled. And it was filled with nut jobs. But it was a bed. Not warm and certainly not clean, but it was a bed.
He had thought about going to a different one that he knew of that was run by a church. They, however, would care about his age and call Child Services. Child. He hadn't been a child in a very long time. Maybe never.
So this stinking hell hole had been his only real option. It's only redeeming feature was the shower, which he had promptly used. There hadn't been a line; most of the people staying here hadn't graced a shower in ages and they certainly weren't about to start now.
"Hello."
Ryan flinched and ripped the pillow off his head. There was a man hovering over him.
"Yes." He said, rudely. These people would eat you alive if you gave them the chance.
"You're very young to be here."
"So?" Ryan asked sharply.
"Where's your family? You're very handsome, you know." The man was leering at him now. Okay, enough of this shit.
"That's it buddy. Get the fuck away from me." Ryan said, almost growling. He was sitting up, fully prepared to jump off the bed and let the sicko have it.
"Hey, hey," The man smiled putting his hands out defensively. "I was just making conversation."
"Whatever. Get the fuck away from me." Ryan demanded, he was standing now, his senses fully alert.
"Alright, alright." The man gave him another wide grin and shuffled away. He turned. "I'll be over there if you need some company."
Ryan didn't respond. If there was thing he was certain of, it was that he sure as hell wouldn't be sleeping tonight.
****
"Hello?"
"Hey, Marissa. It's Seth."
"Hey, what's up?"
"Yeah…well, Ryan called." Seth started, unsure how to proceed.
"Oh?" Marissa answered, trying to sound disinterested. But the truth was that she was very interested. She had been thinking about him constantly. Seth had mentioned Ryan would call after a week, but he hadn't and she had been way too disappointed. She still couldn't believe that he had left without a single goodbye. Marissa had thought she meant something to him. After his stint in juvie and everything that had happened, she hadn't seen him, so maybe she had been expecting too much. Then again, in the short time she knew Ryan, she had begun to see how he was. Marissa had never met anyone so closed off and guarded. But she had seen his guard down, if only briefly, and she had liked it. Things with Luke were still rocky, Marissa honestly didn't know how much longer they would last.
"Marissa?" Seth asked.
"Oh, what?"
"I was just saying that we're going to meet. For lunch, and…I…well, I'm sure he'd like you to come."
"Well…I don't know Seth. I mean, he didn't even say goodbye, so I'm sure he'll really care if I'm there or not." Marissa sniffed.
"Marissa, come on. You know how he is. It really killed him that they just took off like that. He really wanted to, you have to believe that." Seth said emphatically, sure it was true.
"Yeah. Well, okay. What time, where at?" She acquiesced, she really did want to go and see him, see how he really was.
"11:00 at a Coney Island in Chino. You driving?"
"I guess. You got directions?"
"Yep."
"Okay, well, I'll meet out front at, like, 10:30."
"It's a date."
"Goodbye Seth." Marissa hung up, smiling despite herself. She looked at the clock. 9:00. She had never been so excited for lunch before.
****
"There, there it is." Seth pointed.
"I see it, I see it. Man, this is a lot different from Newport."
"No kidding." Seth affirmed. They pulled in and found a parking spot.
"Any sign of him?" Marissa questioned, anxious.
"No, but it's only 10:50. I didn't think we'd get here this quickly."
"Hey, I follow the speed limit." Marissa said, indignantly.
"Yeah, for the Autobahn." Seth answered wryly.
She chuckled slightly. "I got us here, didn't I?"
"Just barely, Marissa." They reached the door and walked in, searching for Ryan.
"I don't see him." Seth said, disappointed. He was worried Ryan wouldn't show.
"Me neither." Marissa replied, sounding just as upset.
"It's still early, lets sit over there." Seth motioned in the direction of a secluded booth with a clear view of the door.
And they waited.
****
"Hey, man, what time is it?" Ryan asked the clerk as he fetched a pack of cigarettes.
"Uh, 11:25. $3.78"
"Shit." Ryan mumbled under his breath and handed the cashier his money. He was late. Ryan accepted the pack and walked out of the gas station. Pulling out a smoke, he lit it. He'd chain-smoked the other pack while he sat under the stoop of the shelter.
Ryan started down the street, a giant yawn overtaking him. He hadn't slept at all last night. He'd just sat there, smoking. Eventually he'd gotten up and walked the streets. He'd gone back to the shelter to take a shower before they closed it for the daytime and kicked everyone out.
At least he smelled good. Thank God he'd had a change of clothes in his backpack. He would hate to see Seth wrinkle his nose in disgust. His jacket smelled like liquor and smoke but there wasn't anything he could do about that.
The Coney Island was just around the corner. Ryan wondered if Seth would still be there, or if he had taken off.
He crossed the street and came upon the Coney. Ryan searched the parking lot for the Cohen car. He didn't see it. He almost turned back, but Ryan did need to eat something. It would be good to just sit.
He paused outside the door, lighting another cigarette. He would be out of money very shortly if he kept smoking like this. Ryan pulled the glass door open, the bell tinkled merrily above.
Ryan's eyes scanned the restaurant. He didn't see Seth. Ryan felt his heart drop. It was his own fault though, he was a half hour late.
"Ryan, over here!" Seth's voice rang throughout the place.
Ryan's head shot up, Seth was waving to him from across the restaurant.
"Hey." Ryan raised his hand and made his way through the maze of tables. Seth was sitting with someone. A very thin, dark-haired someone. Marissa. Ryan's stomach did a flutter, but it could have been the smell from the kitchen.
"Hey, Seth. Marissa." Ryan greeted as he slid in the booth next to Seth. Marissa gasped, she was staring at his face.
"Ryan, man, what the hell happened to your face." Seth asked, a shocked look on his face.
"Uh, it's nothing."
"Nothing….Ryan…" Marissa said, having found her voice.
"Yeah…I ran into, uh, a wall." Ryan faltered, he'd forgotten how horrendous his face looked. He'd be scared if he ran into himself in a dark alley.
"Ryan, I think I speak for both of us when I say 'Yeah, right.'" Seth spoke up.
"I'm fine. Sorry I'm late. I lost track of time. Didn't think you'd still be here." Ryan spoke honestly.
"Yeah, like we'd leave without seeing. We were beginning to think you wouldn't show, though."
"So, what's up in the O.C.?" Ryan asked.
"Nothing much." Seth looked at Marissa. "Yeah, not a whole lot."
"Sounds exciting." Ryan forced a smile.
"Are you guys ready to order?" A waitress approached, pad and pen in hand.
"Uh, I think he'll need to look at a menu." Marissa answered motioning to Ryan.
"No, I'll just have water and a plate of white toast. Separate checks, please." Ryan cut in.
Seth and Marissa placed their orders, each surprised at Ryan's choice.
"Toast?" Seth questioned as the waitress left.
"I had breakfast." Ryan shrugged. In truth, he was starving. Ryan knew from bitter experience that if he gulped down a meal after not eating for a few days, he'd be puking everywhere. Already, the smell from the kitchen was making him nauseous.
Marissa frowned. She was studying him. Ryan looked horrible. His normally very handsome face was pale, gaunt, and terribly bruised.
Ryan looked up to face Marissa's intense stare. He looked away and back to her.
"What?"
"Nothing, I just…Where's your--?"
"Here ya' are." The waitress set their plates and drinks down. Marissa cursed her bad timing.
"Thanks." Ryan said, accepting the water from her. Seth frowned, Ryan's sleeve moved down, there was something dark on his arm.
Seth reached over and gently pulled the sleeve down farther. Ryan yanked his arm away, flinching at the unexpected contact.
"What?" Ryan demanded. He hated when people touched him, especially when he wasn't ready for it.
"Nothing. What's on your arm?" Seth asked, curious. He reached over again. This time Ryan let him, curious as to what he was talking about.
"Oh, my God. Ryan, that's a --" Seth gently put his hand in the shape of the ugly bruise that encircled Ryan's wrist.
Marissa stared, shocked. How hard would you have to grab someone to make a bruise like that?
Ryan pulled his arm away. "It's nothing." Ryan glanced at Seth and then Marissa out of the corner of his eyes.
"Nothing, Ryan, this looks like something to me. Who did this? I mean, God, your face, your arm. What the hell happened?" Seth questioned, concerned.
"Look, it's no big deal, really. I'm fine." Ryan said, not meeting their eyes. Right now, he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, himself or them. Suddenly, his stomach lurched. Uh oh. Yeah, it was definitely time to hit the bathroom. Already, he felt the bile rising.
Ryan almost jumped from the table, knocking his glass of water.
"I'll be right back." He said, nearly running to the bathroom.
"Ryan?" Seth watched him go, unsure of what had just happened.
"What the hell was that?" Marissa said, concerned.
"I have no idea. He looked kinda sick, there. I think I'll go check on him." Seth slid out of the booth.
"Good idea. I hope he's okay." Marissa replied, upset.
"You and me both." Seth answered, walking away. He didn't think Ryan had ever been 'okay.'
****
Thanks for reading, that's it for now. I promise to have more up soon! Don't forget to review!
MacKynzie