This one-shot was written for Brandywine421's Kill a Character challenge at Live Journal.
Submerged
Ryan Atwood never made it to the fashion show his first night in Newport.
Ryan Atwood never got over his fear of heights on the Ferris Wheel.
Ryan Atwood never rescued his girlfriend from a gun-wielding maniac.
Ryan Atwood's girlfriend never saved his life by shooting his gun-wielding brother.
Marissa strokes her hair idly with the brush as she watches the three figures travel up the sandy path. She wonders again who he is. Is he the cousin or the thief? Or brother of a thief? Whatever. Marissa sighs and leaves her balcony. He's the reason she's shut up on this beautiful day instead of relaxing on the beach with Summer and Luke.
She loves Luke. Really she does. But does he have to be so possessive? She'd only been talking to the guy for God's sake. How could she have ignored him? He was right on her doorstep. It wasn't as if she was talking to Seth Cohen. She smiles ruefully. Luke would have had a few choice words if that had been the case, she was sure of that. Sometimes, her boyfriend was a complete jerk. So he was good looking, had a good body, paid her lots of attention, came from a good family (as her mother was always pointing out) but Marissa wasn't sure that was enough. They'd fought again last night. Marissa knows it wasn't really about the boy in the driveway. Well maybe a little. She couldn't deny she'd thought about him a lot during the evening. She couldn't deny she wasn't intrigued with him. Not that she was about to admit that to Luke. But he'd gone on and on at her. Who was she talking to? Why did she invite him to the Fashion Show? Did she think he was hot? And later, when they were making out on Holly's bed, and she'd turned him down again, he'd zipped himself up in frustration and stormed out of the room, and she'd had to go to Summer in tears and beg a ride home. And now, here she was, at home alone, while her best friend, and boyfriend hung out at the beach with their classmates. There was no way she was going to join them. Not after he'd left her like that last night. And he hadn't even called to apologize. No, he could stew in his own juice for a while. But that doesn't stop her from feeling left out and lonely.
"Marissa, honey, where are you?"
"In my room Mom, where'd you think?"
"I wish you wouldn't speak to me like that Marissa, you set such a bad example to Kaitlin…"
"What do you want, Mom?"
"Dustin needs to go out. Your father's up to his eyes in work, some last minute drama, who knows what, and I have to take Kaitlin to the stables. There's some problem with China's hair."
"I took him out last time…"
"So? The fresh air will do you good. You've been cooped up all day. Now hurry, the fashion show starts in a few hours, we all need to be ready in good time."
Marissa grabs the dog's leash from its hook in the kitchen and calls to the family's pet. Dustin comes bounding in from her father's office. She buries her nose in his fur. She loves Dustin. There is something solid and comforting about nuzzling into his doggy body. He doesn't ask questions. He doesn't get cross. He doesn't care what she wears or whether it suits her. He loves her unconditionally. Still, she hates exercising him. She'd had this afternoon set aside to paint her nails and straighten her hair. Now she'd be rushed. Just when she'd wanted to make a good impression. She couldn't have the other girls upstage her after all, not when he might be there.
Marissa frowns. What the hell is up with her? She loves Luke. She emphasizes his name in her mind. Luke is her future. Unbidden, images crowd her mind. A proffered cigarette, a pair of watchful blue eyes. Disconcerted, she clips the leash onto the patiently waiting dog and heads out of the door, slamming it behind her, just so her mother knows, she isn't doing this willingly.
Dustin loves water. Not just likes it. He loves it. He loves water like a child loves Santa Claus. He is one of those dogs that rush headlong into any body of water available, the ocean, the river that meanders around Newport's outskirts, a dirty puddle. He isn't choosy. Marissa's mother hates it when he returns sopping wet, shaking his fur at the most inopportune moment, in the most inopportune place. Ocean wet dog is bad. Puddle wet dog is worse. River wet dog, with the accompanying rank smell sends Julie, on a good day, over the edge. And Marissa does love to piss off her mother.
She takes the path from her house across the gated community and heads toward an overgrown track leading to the river. She notices the river is swollen, a result, she assumes, of the deluge of unseasonable rain they'd had several days before. It is the only visible sign of the storms that had ravaged the coast earlier that week. The water is swirling and murky, a muddy chocolate brown, and Marissa smiles to herself as Dustin races headlong towards it. Her mom will have to put her beauty preparations on hold when she sees the state Dustin is likely to return in. And she won't be able to help. After all, who's running this Fashion Show? She steps back, anticipating the large splash and the accompanying shower of water that is likely to head her way. She picks up a small branch lying, dried out, on the bank, and tosses it into the water. Dustin doggy paddles, grunting like a seal, as he races to fetch it. As she waits for him to return to the edge with the retrieved stick, she glances back toward the Mcmansions. The Cohens' home is just visible. She thinks about him again. There's no way he could be Mr. Cohen's nephew, right? He didn't look at all Jewish or at all like Seth or Sandy. If anything, with his blond hair and blue eyes, he looked more like Kirsten. But Marissa knew enough about Mrs. Cohen's side of the family to know there was no such nephew. So that meant he was a car thief. And just why did her stomach do that flip flopping thing that she used to get when she was about to jump off the diving board in Junior High?
Marissa turns back to look for Dustin. He's got the branch now, firm in his mouth, but his breathing sounds labored and she notices he is struggling. For the first time, she spots the speed of the water rushing past him, and he is fighting to swim against the current. Marissa steps as close as she can to the edge of the bank.
"Here boy, here Dustin, forget about the stick. Come here boy."
Marissa stretches out her hand toward the dog, encouraging him.
"Leave the stick, Dustin, come on, it'll be easier to swim without it…"
But dogs are faithful creatures, and Dustin's mistress had thrown that stick for him to fetch and he is going to fetch it.
Marissa begins to panic now. Dustin is sinking, the block of wood still firmly attached between his teeth. The current is pulling him downstream, and he is losing the battle to stay level with his mistress. She pulls off her sneakers rapidly and discards her jacket.
She never sees the broken and submerged wooden fencing at the edge of the water. As she leaps in to rescue her dog, the pointed stick plunges through her ribcage, piercing her heart.
Jimmy and Sandy find her. Dustin returns alone, soaking wet. From the smell, they know he's been at the river. Sandy takes a shell shocked Jimmy back to Kirsten while he breaks the news to Julie. Kirsten plies him with whisky, and has a few for herself, while Seth and Ryan stand around awkwardly, Seth unsure how one deals with the death of the next-door neighbor's daughter in such a tragic manner and Ryan unsure of everything.
Ryan Atwood never made it to the fashion show his first night in Newport.
Ryan Atwood never got over his fear of heights on the Ferris Wheel.
Ryan Atwood never rescued his girlfriend from a gun-wielding maniac.
Ryan Atwood's girlfriend never saved his life by shooting his gun-wielding brother.
Ryan Atwood had a very nice life thank you very much.