Seth watched Ryan working out his frustrations in the flower plot Kirsten had allowed him to dig. Muscles that Seth had thought perfectly formed "B.T" were even more defined, crossing the line between "Well, that young man is nicely put together, (as his Nana had commented during her Passover visit) to "God Damn!" as Julie Cooper had blurted out just now,when she saw Ryan lifting a bag of fertilizer over his shoulder.
Nana had winked at Seth, then looked over at Ryan as she walked out the door on her way back to New York. Seth still wasn't sure if that meant what it sounded like, but if so, Nana was a lot more open minded than most grandparents were purported to be.
As for Julie Cooper, well, she could look all she wanted, but she couldn't touch. Ryan was his. And Marissa's, if he still wanted her skinny intoxicated ass, which Seth hoped he didn't, even though Seth knew Ryan felt sorry for her, and didn't want her ending up like his mother. Or Seth's mother, if the stack of empty bottles he'd found in the garage was any indication.
Seth definitely didn't want Ryan going back to Theresa, whose claim on him was both strong - Ryan's oldest friend - and compelling - he might have been her baby's father. Seth was pretty sure it had to have been Eddie's, but either way, Ryan felt obliged to protect her. While there was no child anymore (and Seth couldn't be happy about that, considering the circumstances) it did make things easier all around. But if Theresa decided she needed Ryan back, Seth figured he would go, baby or no.
"B.T" meant Before Theresa, or possibly Before Tahiti, even though Seth hadn't actually made it that far. He'd ended up crashing at Luke's dad's new place in Portland, where he hadn't had a Bad Time, all things considered. Luke was a much cooler guy away from the water polo set. And by cool, Seth meant 'not an asshole', not 'the kind of guy who kicked the shit out of you and called you queer just to look good in front of his friends'.
Having Ryan back (to the extent that he was back, and not just there, taking up space with his brooding and glowering looks) had been terrific, but terrifying. Seth didn't know what to say to him, how to apologize for running. Because he knew Ryan had gone back to Chino for noble reasons, not like the ridiculous jealousy that had sent Serth off to sea. Ryan had left because he thought he had to in order to provide for a girl in trouble. Someone who had been there for Ryan since he was a little kid, and how could Ryan possibly not help her now? Seth wouldn't have even wanted Ryan to be the kind of person who would desert a friend in need. God knew, Ryan had protected Seth from the start.
Seth, ever the immature one, had just run, with a bag full of junk food, and comic books in case he got bored, and not nearly enough useful provisions. He felt like a ten year old, while Ryan was the adult. Of course when he'd run away as a kid, it had been because his mom wouldn't let him camp outside the movie theater in order to be first in line for Batman Forever. Hardly an Earth shattering concern, he understood now. Not compared to losing the best friend he'd ever had, the best almost brother, and the guy he'd been half in love with from the first time Ryan had taken a punch for him. Actually, it hadn't even taken that long. Seth had felt something as soon as Ryan sat down next to him at the Playstation. There was none of the usual awkwardness he felt with new people. It was an instant bond. Superglue. Maybe that was why Ryan leaving had felt like ripping off layers of skin.
Speaking of skin, Seth wanted nothing more than to be touching Ryan's, now. To reach out and stroke his arm, sinewy and taut from his work on the construction site, would be so easy. But he couldn't do that, because if he did, he'd never be able to stop touching Ryan. It wouldn't just be his arm. Soon Seth would be pinching a nipple as it tightened up under the cool rain, or running a hand through Ryan's hair, and over the light stubble on his cheek. And it would only get worse from there.
He wasn't sure any more whether Ryan wanted Seth talking to him, much less touching him. When Seth tried to talk to Ryan, he'd rushed outside. He stayed out there, even when the rain worsened from a light sprinkle to a downpour, turning the garden he'd been digging in their yard to a mud pit. It sure seemed to show he wanted nothing to do with Seth. Seth couldn't blame him. His absence (well, both their absences in his mom's case) had driven his mother to drink, and Summer to the Rage Blackout to end all Rage Blackouts. He didn't want anything to do with himself either.
Seth had never seen Ryan in a black tank before. It looked good on him, but somehow wrong. He wondered if Theresa had picked it out, knowing how his new job-earned muscles would look, how the black would contrast with his deep tan. He shouldn't be jealous of Theresa. He knew that. She had nothing ahead of her but a life of desperation and hard work, while he had -- everything.
Everything but Ryan, he thought. And that was what mattered most of all. With that in mind, Seth vowed he was going to get Ryan back for real. Not let him shrink back into himself, the way he seemed to be doing. Whatever it took. Apologies. Promises. Blowjobs. Seth was going to do it. The leaves were falling, and Seth was maturing. He could feel it. He just hoped Ryan would feel it too.
Seth stooped down, and began to dig a hole like Ryan was making. He didn't know what they were planting, but he assumed Ryan did. "I never knew you liked gardening."
"Theresa's mom taught me. You know, I don't kill everything."
What the hell could he say to that? "I'm sorry, Ryan," he tried. Ryan didn't say anything for a moment, but he didn't flinch when Seth put a hand on his back.
"No, Seth, you have to dig a lot deeper than that, so the roots have room to grow." Ryan took the spade from Seth, and showed him what to do.
Seth knew he didn't mean flowers.