Author's Note: Okay, the scene we have all pictured over and over again. But a twist! Don't you love Joe Millionaire? A comparison to how things have really changed for Seth. Please read and review. None of the characters are mine. Oh! But Greg's mine! I used to always call Luke "Greg" so I thought it was appropriate. Oh and that thing about him pinching her? My friend always pinches me and it seriously pisses me off. Sorry about the babbling. Please read.
His jeans were low. So low that the waistband of his boxers could be seen. And he just wore a tee shirt over all of it. His hair had grown out a little and his braces were put back on. Seventh grade was hell. Nothing could go right. But she was still the same. Her hair spilling across her shoulders, her tan fresh from spring break. Beautiful.
Summer laughed and his heart hurt just a little bit. Because he wanted to be the one to make her laugh. Not some Abercrombie model to be. He didn't deserve it.
Marissa nudged Summer and laughed.
"Looks like someone's got someone's attention."
"God, Coop, someone? That's just annoying."
"But it's true. He looks hypnotized."
"Sigh, it's not my fault I'm gorgeous."
Marissa laughed at the toss of the hair and Summer started giggling too. Greg came over and put his hands on her waist and pinched her stomach.
"Omigod! Greg! What the hell?"
He laughed and she smacked his arm.
"Ow! You hit hard."
"Hit me back."
"You're still a girl."
"But I'm one that can kick your ass."
"Well duh."
She laughed again and her hair spun. Marissa bit a smile away from her lips and stole another glance at Seth. He was trying to read a book, but she could see him peeking over it, stealing looks at her best friend. She shook her head, kind of embarrassed how sad it was.
Summer grinned at Greg. She was such a little flirt.
"You wouldn't molest me, would you, Greg?"
"Never, Summer."
"Yeah, right?"
Seth slipped her another look. Marissa noticed and nudged Summer again.
"Ow, Coop!"
"Maybe we should go over and say hi."
"To Cohen?"
"Why not?"
"I dunno. You know him better than I do. But you make fun of him more too."
"I do not."
"Come on, Coop, you so do."
"Don't tell my dad. He kind of thinks Mrs. Cohen can do no wrong. He'll kill me."
"Yeah, okay. You really think we should go over and say hi?"
"Yeah. Why not?"
"Fine."
Summer stood up, grinned at Greg one more time, and strolled over to Seth. He blushed immediately.
"Hey, Cohen."
"H-Hi Summer."
"You got taller over the summer."
"Uh, yeah."
"That's cool."
"Yeah."
"It makes you look better."
"Thanks."
"No problem. Your hair is longer, too, right?"
"Yeah."
"It's hot."
"Really?"
"Sure."
"Okay."
"Okay."
Marissa laughed, because she knew what Summer was doing. She got a kick out of people adoring her and falling apart in her hand. Like before Luke had gone out with Marissa. Seth was all right, he was her neighbor and she had had dinner at his house a few times. But he was still 'Cohen.' And Summer was her girl. She protected her and loved her, but she knew Summer was far from the most forgiving girl in the world. So there was no chance for Cohen to get even a whiff of her perfume. Impossible.
Summer lay on her bed, flipping through the channels, but turned it off in the end and flipped onto her back. She stared at the plaster of her ceiling with those cheesy moon and stars that glow when the lights get turned off. And this perfect china doll let tears fall. Actual tears. She balanced herself on her elbows and grabbed a yellow envelope from her bedside table. She flipped open the top and pulled out twenty five Kodak photos. They were badly taken, thumbs in almost every single one of them, but he was there. She leafed through the pictures and found the one she was looking for. Seth had his hands around her bare, wet waist, dipping her down so he could look at her better. There was a huge grin on his face and her mouth was open in a laugh, her eyes closed. They were dancing in the waves, his jeans rolled up and her shorts damp. She was still wearing a tan bikini top. And they were both happy. But her eyes were closed.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid. Open your eyes." She didn't know what she would give for one more look.
There was a knock at the door, but she just ignored it and flipped to the next photo. Seth still had his hands on her hips and it was obviously a few seconds later. But he had her pulled up close against him, and his mouth was on hers. She held his face with her hands and the wind was intertwining her hair with his. Sand was on his chest and her legs, but neither seemed to notice. And her eyes were closed.
"Summer."
She turned her head to the door and pulled open her bedside drawer, stuffing the photos away. She got up and walked to the door in baggy, dark blue pajama pants and a purple tank top. She opened it and let another few tears fall. But she couldn't see anyway because she pushed her face against his shoulder and hugged him as fast as she could.
Seth closed his hands around her back and inhaled the smell of toothpaste and her moisturizer. Nothing fake, just Summer.
As soon as he got his arms all the way around her she pulled her hands up to his chest and pushed him away.
"No. No, you can't just...pretend like nothing happened. No."
"Summer, I-I'm sorry. I just needed to...figure some things out."
She stepped away from him and the salty smell of his hair. His hair that had grown an inch or two and now curled right below his ear. He had a coarse five o'clock shadow that ran up to his side burns and crept down his neck to the halfway point. His arms had gotten more toned and his chest had gotten harder. The only thing that had stayed the same was his eyes. They were still the dark brown, wet eyes that Summer had had endless staring matches on who would give in first. It was usually him, but that was just because she ran her foot up his jeans and stroked his hand. His eyes could get her anytime he gave her a chance.
"You-You left me. With a letter. A letter, Seth, do you understand that? You couldn't even see me one more time to say good-bye. Let me-let me touch your face one last time. Even, maybe let me kiss you. You gave me a letter."
That letter was stuffed in the drawer next to the photographs, carefully slipped back into the envelope with her name scrawled on it in a hurried print.
Summer,
I know you're going to be mad at me, and I can accept that. I just hope that part of you can understand that the reason I had to leave was nothing to do with you. There was just no real reason I knew to stay. There is nothing in my life I can depend on, and everything is just too fucking hard. I hope that you don't waste a single day on me, because you're worth so much more than that. I guess I love you, but that seems way too trivial to how you make me feel. You make me feel like there's a reason to get up in the morning, and I am terrified that me leaving is going to hurt you. Please, please find it in yourself to forgive me, even though I can understand if you can't. I know I love you, and I need you to know that no matter where I am, I'm always going to be dreaming about you. My Summer.
Love,
Seth (or Cohen, whichever you prefer)
"I didn't want to just go. I...wanted you to, I wanted to, you know, all that, but you would've asked me to stay. And I really had to go."
"Why? I don't fucking get it, Seth. Why did you have to take away the...you know all that shit about how you had no reason to stay? You were my reason. And you just...took it away. Left me alone. Why didn't you let me come with you?"
"I didn't think you would want to. And I couldn't let myself hear you say no."
"Well you could've told me where the hell you were going to be. I mean, shit, I thought you could've been dead."
He put his hands on her cheeks but she whimpered and pulled away.
"No. I'm not going to let you...you can't just hurt me again. No. Just...get your hands off of me."
She pushed him away again, his back hit the door. He looked her up and down, trying to get all of her in. Her hair was a little longer, split ends showing at the bottoms. It had highlighted in the sun or at some salon, either way, there were auburn streaks leaking through the dark brown that always framed her face. She had gained weight, maybe ten pounds, that made her a little rounder, but he just saw changes in her waist, arms, and boobs. They were bigger. Her upper arms were covered with a sweatshirt, but they were bigger too. Her waist peeked out of the break between her shirt and jeans, but he loved it more. She seemed more real. More alive. More beautiful if that was possible. Her arms instinctively crossed under her breasts and he shook his head.
"Summer. I'm not going to hurt you."
She spun around and caught his lips. She swept her tongue over his teeth and slapped her hands onto the sides of his face. He lay his hands on her waist but she pulled them up to her sides, right underneath her arms. But as soon as he started to kiss her back, she pulled back away and fell against the wall, letting tears leak again. Seth's heart started to hurt again.
"Summer." He choked his words through a mouth that had almost all moisture gone. His throat was dry, but he couldn't swallow, so it was going to stay that way.
She looked up at him through her tears. He started to cry too. To really cry. He bent down in front of her.
"D-Don't. Please."
She wiped away her tears and let out a far away laugh.
"Cohen. God."
"I love you."
She looked up at him again. She started crying again.
"N-No. Don't. Summer, don't cry. Please. That must've come out wrong."
"No."
"No?"
"You can't love me."
"Why?"
"Because. I don't deserve you. I made you leave. I made you hurt. I let you leave. And I didn't know until I-I went to your house to take you down to the pier. I wanted you to feel better. But I had no idea."
"Summer."
She looked up again.
"I love you."
"Don't love me. I'll hurt you again."
"I don't care. I can't not love you."
She cried and he pulled her back onto his shoulder and let her crawl into his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he brushed away another tear.
She spoke in gasps of air, and most people wouldn't have been able to hear her. Seth could. "I love you too."
He hugged her tighter and kissed her shoulder. They were both different, but remarkably still the same from then to when he left and to when they were in seventh grade. And she knew she had to hold on to feel the same, so she hugged him against her as close as she could. It was the only thing that had any chance of working. Of making him feel better. It's all that mattered too.
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