A/N: Hi! I might be getting back in the swing of this. Obviously, I own nothing. Sad, I know.
She didn't look like Summer. She looked like…winter, if that didn't sound too stupid. She looked cold and frozen, and she wouldn't meet Seth's eyes. He stood on her porch, and she stood in her house, and he stared at her and she stared at the ground.
"Hi," he said, because he didn't know what else to say. "It's been a long time." She nodded, still not looking at him. Her shoulders were rounded, and she'd lost weight. Probably a lot. Seth wasn't an expert, but he knew how Summer used to feel in his arms, and he could guess how New Summer would feel too. She was all sharp angles and bones. Not soft and curvy like the Last Summer.
"Can I come in?" Seth asked, and she hesitated. "Or do you want to go for a walk?" Still hesitating. "Please? I just want to talk to you. It's been so long."
"I'll get my coat," she said, and her voice was different. It was harsher. It didn't jingle like it used to. Seth used to kind of think that her voice sounded like little bells. Especially when she was happy. But he was glad to hear her voice anyway. He was glad for some sign that she was still alive, that something was still in there.
She came back to the door a few minutes later, but she didn't have her coat. "I don't know where my coat is," she said, hanging her head again, her hair a curtain in front of her face.
"You can wear mine," Seth offered, shrugging it off.
Summer shook her head. "I don't really want to walk, Seth. I'm too tired."
"Oh," he said. "Um, okay." He turned and started to walk away.
"You can come in," that gravelly voice called after him. Seth turned around and she was looking at him. He could see her eyes and they were dull and they didn't sparkle anymore. They used to sparkle when she looked at him, she couldn't help it. He'd tell her and she'd tell him to shut up, he was being cheesy. And yeah, he was being cheesy, but it was true too. So she was the cheesy one, really.
"Thanks."
She walked into the house and Seth walked in behind her. It hadn't changed. He hadn't been here in almost a year, but he remembered it well. She sat down at the kitchen table, and Seth sat across from her.
"How have you been?" Summer asked, looking up at Seth.
"Good," he said. "I really like BU. I didn't think Boston would do it for me, but I love it."
She smiled, kind of. It was the slightest twitching of her lips, but Seth counted it, because he got the feeling that real smiles were few and far between with this new Summer. "I'm happy for you."
Seth didn't know how she would react, didn't know what she would say, but he had to ask. "Summer," he said slowly, measuring his words carefully. "Summer what happened?"
"Last week, my dad hired this guy, and he found me. And then my dad found me and he made me come home. And now I'm here. And now you're here." She said this in a completely even tone, no emotion, no change in pitch, no inflection. It was like she didn't feel anything.
"But before that, Summer. What happened?"
She looked at him, and he noticed just how dark the circles under her eyes were. "I left," she said simply. Seth knew that. Hello, he had been there.
"Hello?" She'd asked into her cell phone, and she sounded far away.
"Where are you?" Seth said. "I've been waiting at the diner for like half an hour. I've had so much coffee that-"
"I'm…not coming." She said, interrupting him.
"What? Sum, I leave for Boston tomorrow! I want to say goodbye."
"I'm sorry. I can't, Seth. I'm done."
"What are you talking about? We've talked about this, and we can make it work! We're going to do the long-distance thing. We'll talk on the phone and we'll fly out to visit each other all the time."
"No," she said, her voice soft.
"Where are you, I'm coming to see you. We need to talk about this." She was silent. "Summer, where are you?"
"Already
gone," she said, and then she hung up.
"Where did you go?" He whispered, and he felt like he was going to cry. His eyes stung and there was a lump the size of an apple in his throat. "Where did you go?" He wanted to know what happened. He'd thought about it every day for nearly a year. Thought about her every day. And now she was here, and she was different. And he wanted to know what changed her like that. What had taken the shine out of her hair and the glitter out of her eyes and the smile off her face? Seth reached across the table and grabbed her hands. She jumped, yanking them away. "Please," he begged. "Please, baby."
"I don't want to talk about it," she said, tracing circles on the kitchen table.
"I'm not really sure why you called me then, Summer. If you won't talk to me, won't even look at me…what do you want from me? I'm not sure what to do here, okay?"
"Cohen," she said, and there was a softness in her voice that hadn't been there only moments before. "I needed to see you."
"Why!" He yelled, slamming his fists on the table. "God damn Summer! Why couldn't you just stay gone? You're killing me here, Summer."
She blinked at him, and he thought he saw a hint of tears in her eyes. "My dad dragged me back, okay? He had me found and he dragged me back here. I wouldn't have returned, not ever. But he made me."
"Why did you go?" Seth asked through clenched teeth. She stared at him silently, stubborn as ever. Well, Seth supposed that it was good to know that some things hadn't changed. "Where did you go?"
"LA," she said. "At first. Then Chicago, and Miami and Detroit. Other places too. I went all over."
"By yourself?" He asked, in awe.
She shrugged. "Sometimes. Other times I traveled with…friends."
"What friends?" Seth asked. As far as he had known, Summer's friends had been him, Ryan, and Marissa. And Summer certainly hadn't disappeared with any of them.
"New friends," she said. "Not anyone you know."
"What did you do for money? Or for places to live?"
"Different things," she bent her head, her hair veiling her face. Seth reached across the table again, this time tipping her chin up, forcing her to look at him. Nothing I'm really that proud of, nothing I want to talk about."
"Summer-" Seth began. He didn't know what he was going to say, didn't know where to take the conversation.
It didn't matter that he didn't know what to say, though. She interrupted him with a shriek. "I had sex, okay!" She screamed. "I had sex with people, and they paid me. Usually with money, sometimes with drugs." She stood up, knocking her chair over violently. "I slept anywhere. With friends, with dealers, in motels, in libraries. Anywhere."
Now it was Seth's turn to simply stare. He couldn't believe this, couldn't believe her. This wasn't Summer. This was not Summer at all.
"I was always scared. I was always tired. I was always lonely. And I always missed you. I always thought about you."
"Why?" He asked, begging. Begging for answers, begging for an explanation. Begging to know why she did this to him, to herself. "Summer why?"
"Just leave, Seth," she said, her eyes wide as silver dollars. "I'm sorry I called you." And then she fled. She ran out of the room and up the stairs. Seth just kept sitting there. He was blown away. This wasn't her, this wasn't her. This wasn't his girl. His Summer, who was so beautiful and confident. His Summer, who never let anyone take advantage of her, who never let anyone push her around. His Summer, who was his and only his, who didn't give herself to anyone with a wallet.
His head dropped to his hands. She was back, and she was very different. But she was still Summer. And she was back. And she needed him.
Seth walked up the stairs and rounded the corner, down the hall to her bedroom. "Sum," he whispered, walking into her room. "Summer, I'm here." She was curled up on her bed, her face hidden in a pile of pillows.
"Go away please," she said, her voice muffled. Seth closed the door and approached her.
"Baby," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He placed his hand on her shoulder and she twitched, but just barely. "Look at me," he said. "Just look at me." He pulled her gently, just slightly toward him. She rolled and blinked up at Seth with deadened eyes. He'd never seen her like this. Seth had always known that Summer hurt, that she was broken. But she'd always kept it hidden.
Summer had been hurt by a lot of people, by her mother, her father, her stepmother, by her friends, by boys. By Seth. But now, she was so hurt, by so many people and so many things, that she couldn't hide it anymore. It was out in the open, finally palpable.
And suddenly, out of nowhere, her face twisted up in pain, her eyes getting bigger and bigger—impossibly bigger, and then they were shiny with new tears. Seth didn't know this girl, didn't recognize her. She was so young, so scared, so sad. And then she was crying, she was sobbing, and it occurred to him that that was Summer. That wailing, crumbled up little girl had always been on the inside, barely hidden away, always scratching at the surface. It was who she'd been for a long time, and he couldn't believe he'd never noticed. He just sat there, not knowing what to do. He didn't know this girl at all, but at the same time, it's who she'd always been, so of course he knew her.
Seth used to beg her to talk to him, beg her to open up to him. He used to see this girl who was only half-there, because she kept so much hidden. He loved her desperately, and wanted to see the whole girl. Well here she was. It was all out in the open. No more secrets, no more hiding.
He'd been dreaming of her, aching for her for so long, for so many months. He'd have given anything to have her in the same room as him, to have her in his arms. And there she was, more broken than ever before, more desperate, more in need than he'd ever seen her. "Summer," he said again. That was all. Just her name. There were a million things he wanted to say to her, but she was so fragile that he was sure any of them would break her completely. He wanted to say something, anything that would stop her tears. Because seeing her like this, in this much pain, hurt him more than it hurt her.
She gasped, having cried herself breathless. "Cohen," Summer said, and her voice was not hers. "Please," she said. That was all she needed to say—he knew just what she was asking for. He gathered her into his arms, holding her together. It felt like she was literally falling apart, and I couldn't keep all the pieces together. He wanted to kiss her, but he couldn't. Things were hazier and more complicated than ever. And kissing her wouldn't make the crying stop. It would bring on a whole new set of tears. And that would have broken Seth's heart all over again, and probably hers too.
Summer's hands were balled into tight, tiny fists, and her fingernails dug into her palms, leaving little crescents in the skin. Seth unfurled them gently, and they found their way to his back, and then Summer was clinging to him, wrapped around his body, frantically trying to get closer. She was shaking with sobs, trembling in his arms, but she was holding on so tight.
"It hurts," she choked. Seth could barely understand her, but managed. "Seth it hurts so bad."
"What does?" he asked, trying to pull her closer.
"All of it," she said, her voice sounding strangled. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself. "I hurt everywhere. Being without you hurt me so badly. Every day, I thought about you. Every day I thought about how it felt to be here, in your arms. Every day my heart broke all over again, because being without you hurt so badly. And now, being with you, hurts even more." Seth stroked her hair, almost wanting to cry himself. "Telling myself I don't love you hurts. And letting myself acknowledge that I do hurts just as much. Everyone I've met in the past year hurt me. My dad hurt me, because it took him four months to realize I was gone." I started rocking her slightly, keeping her close to my body. "And my mom…" She looked up at him. "I found my mom, that's why I went to Chicago at first." Seth brushed away a tear as it rolled down her sunken cheek. "I look just like her, Seth. I have her hair, and her eyes, and her nose. I'm just like her."
"She just gave up!" Summer wailed. "She gave up, she didn't try. She gave up on everything, she gave up on me and on Daddy…he loved her so much and she broke his heart, because she's a coward and because she's weak. And I'm just like her."
"No you're not," Seth murmured, kissing her hair. "You might look like her, but that's it."
"I hurt you, just like she hurt my dad. She just left. And then so did I. And I ruined the only good thing I had."
