Love, Hate, anda Scream
Disclaimer: If I owned The OC, the events of this week's episode would've been tweaked in a major way.
A/N: Just a one-shot. Not too supurb, but then again, I have the tendency to think less of my fics so don't take my word for it. I just thought Summer was really emotionless in "The Lonely Hearts Club", so here's what happens when it all pours out. Review, please!
Zach kissed Summer's warm forehead and stroked the side of her face. "I love you," he murmured.
Summer squeezed her eyes shut and didn't respond. She rolled over on her side. She couldn't let him see her cry.
She gripped the sheets that covered her body. A cold tear slipped down her cheek and she bit her lip – and hard. She had a deep-rooted feeling inside of her stomach and she wanted to badly to scream.
She hated herself. She hated herself for pretending that this Valentine's Day would be better then the last. She hated herself for pretending that Seth didn't mean anything. She hated herself for hinting at sleeping with Zach. She hated herself for actually doing it.
She sniffled and dug her fingernails angrily into the sheet, and then loosened her hold, slowly melting into a pool of emotions. She shivered, suddenly cold. Seth's close-to-tears face flashed in front of her. She didn't dare open her eyes.
She hated Seth Cohen.
She hated him for ever opening his fucking mouth. She hated him for saying all that shit in their meeting. She hated him for simply not standing up for himself. She hated him for calling when it was too late. She hated him for always leaving her.
And she really hated him for still loving her.
Because she still loved him.
But there was, lying in a hotel bed next to Zach, crying and naked and ashamed. They were stupid. Seth was stupid. Summer was stupid. So stupid that they fucked up all the time and never moved on from it.
She felt empty and alone. And pissed. She slipped on her underwear and a tank top and stumbled into the adjoining room – Zach had drifted off to sleep. She found herself crying harder then before, no more stray tears, and clutching the pillow. He had slept there while Zach and she had cuddled together in the next room. She wondered if he had cried too.
She reached to the hotel telephone that was on the nightstand. She had memorized his cell phone number a while ago. She would explain to Zach later about the call to Seth at 12:38 in the morning when it showed up on the hotel bill.
One ring.
Two ring.
Summer hoped he would pick up. Just to hear him say hello. She was annoyed with herself for being so desperate. It was like a stupid celebrity crush.
She was so upset that she was trying to call the guy she had turned down. The guy she still loved.
Because Summer had a choice – loving someone that left, or loving the fact that someone would never leave.
So she chose.
She got his voicemail. She took a sharp breath in. He hadn't changed it. Did he want to?
"Hey, you've reached Seth Cohen –
Summer, why can't I just have the normal setting?
Because that's boring, Cohen! Anyways, he can't answer your call so please –
What if I don't want them to call me back?
I'm probably the only one that'll hear this message so you better want me to call you back!
I do, I do.
Anyways, he'll try to get back to you as soon as possible.
Wait, Summer, let's redo it.
Again, Cohen? It's gonna cut off rea—"
Beep
She breathed, and then spoke slowly, "Hey, Cohen. It's me...I just...I'm sorry. I'll see you when I get back,"
She threw the phone done in frustration. She couldn't even say she missed him.
It was his fucking fault. If he hadn't went off on his dumbass boat because of his little boyfriend they'd still be together.
The boat he'd named after her.
Because he loved her.
Love was a bitch.
It fucked up things. She didn't love Zach. She didn't want to love Seth. And she definitely didn't love herself.
She screamed into the pillow. It was so juvenile of her, but it was the only way. She burst into hot, fresh tears and slowly fell asleep.
"Happy Valentine's Day," she muttered to herself.