A/N: Well, Anna is gone and oh well... it was great writing Anna fics but I guess all good things come to an end. This is going to be my last Anna/The OC fic, although I'll continue with my multi-chap of Anna's life in Pittsburgh. This is going to be a 6-9 parter and I'm going to have it posted for the duration of the hiatus, i.e. I'll post a new chapter every 2/3 days till March 24th. This is a future fic. It'll be a different POV for every chapter. It's going to have Anna, Seth, Ryan, Summer and Marissa but maybe not coupled the way you'd expect ;)
Thanks for all the tips and reviews I've received with my other fanfics. I am extremely grateful.
I do not own the OC or any of the main characters. All I own is the storyline.
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Anna's POV
I turned the page in frustration. I just could not understand why I was getting these results. In addition to all the time I spent teaching in discussion sections, and regular office hours, I encouraged my students to drop in and speak to me if they had any problems with the course work. And they did -in droves. Yet, the scores didn't reflect that. I'd taken the same subject in my undergraduate days and didn't have a lot of trouble with it. I was beginning to question my skills as a teaching assistant because they just didn't seem to understand the material.
The subway train slowed to a halt. I looked out of the window to see where we were at - Penn Station. I groaned. I still had about ten more stops till I got home. I turned my attention back to the exams and kept on grading them. I worked one day a week at local firm so I tried to manage my time efficiently. Two minutes into trying to understand the student's hand writing, I heard a voice from above me.
"Anna Stern?"
I looked up. A slightly familiar face looked back at me. I smiled and made the slightly embarrassed face everyone makes when a stranger recognizes them.
"Don't tell me you've forgotten me already," he implored.
I looked at his face and studied it. The light reflected on his dark hair and he looked about the right height and size for an Olympic sprinter - 6'0 and toned. I was still trying to remember who he was when it hit me.
"Seth Cohen?"
He smiled, "It took you long enough."
My goodness, Seth Cohen. A million lifetimes ago when I'd moved to California, Seth had been my first friend. We both enjoyed sailing, comic books and emo music, amongst other things. In some ways, we were kindred spirits, at least I'd thought so. Then we fell into a stupid love triangle with this other girl and everything fell apart. We'd tried to keep in touch after I relocated but like most things, it didn't last for long.
He looked at the seat next to me. "Hugging the seats are we?"
I was smiling and shaking my head when I picked up my bag to create room for him to sit. It had been eight years and like expected, he hadn't changed. I put the blue books in my bag and turned to him.
"So, Seth Cohen, what da hell are you doing in New York City? This is a little far from Newport." The entire time I'd known him, Seth wore sweaters in 70 degree weather so I was very surprised to find him comfortably being in New York in in the middle of February.
He looked back at me. "I should be asking you the same question, this isn't Pittsburgh," he pointed out.
"But I asked first."
"Well, I live here now. I came here after graduation. So," he was doing a mental calculation, "I've been here for about three years now."
"You've been on the East Coast for three years and you never looked me up?"
"I thought you were in Pittsburgh."
"So?" He didn't respond. "What do you do now?"
"You know the Citibank building in Long Island city?" he asked.
I nodded. It was the tallest building on that side of town..
"I work there. I'm a financial analyst for high income clients."
I was impressed. "Are you now? That's fantastic. Where did you go to college?"
"Northwestern."
I chuckled. "I bet your Dad wasn't too pleased that you didn't go to Berkeley." UC Berkeley had been Seth's father's alma mater and he made sure we didn't forget it. Seth had been his dad's mini-me that I'd expected him to follow in his footsteps.
"He wasn't but he got over it. So, what about you Anna, what have you been doing with your life?"
"I'm in graduate school working on my PhD."
"In?"
" Statistics."
"Yowsa!" he exclaimed. "Sounds difficult."
"It is, but I like it."
"There you go. As far as you like it..."
I looked him over. "You filled out a bit, haven't you?" I just couldn't get over his new look. Back in high school, Seth had been the guy who considered walking three blocks heavy exercise.
"Yeah, no more scrawny Seth - it comes with hanging out with Ryan, you see. He bought all this gym equipment that I almost felt pathetic for not using it, so I started and voila!"
"Well it looks good. You're... " I started to say...
"So," he said interrupting. "Oh, I'm sorry, you were saying?" he quickly apologized.
"No, go ahead, what did you want to say?"
"Oh, I was just saying that you look great yourself. I see your hair is different."
"Yeah," I instinctively touched my hair. I'd had this haircut for almost fours years so it was almost unusual to hear someone mention it. "It's still short but I had to change it. Seemed like suddenly everybody else had the same haircut and I just couldn't have that,"
"Ever the non-conformist," he replied remembering my old self.
"You know me." I'd been so against appearing like a sheep that I'd have worn a trash bag as a bra just to make a statement. I had grown up a lot since then but the part of me that wanted to rebel and forge my own path was still very much alive.
We both allowed our minds to wander our past and shared some laughter.
"I love your laugh," he commented looking directly into my eyes.
I got goose pimples. At one point in my life, Seth had been very important to me and for a long time after I'd left, I'd see a picture and find myself mentally transported to his room playing Jenga; just because it reminded me of his bed spread or I'll get a whiff of something and suddenly, I'd remember the times we shared reading books at Starbucks. As time went by, I'd managed to forget everything but never his eyes. Never them. He looked at me as he always had except today it was a little different. I couldn't quite put a finger on what it was and I wasn't even sure I liked it. All I knew was it made me uncomfortable.
"Well, yours is still goofy, but I'm sure some people find it cute," I joked. I'd learned that humor could be used to mask any emotion and I'd hoped that I'd been successful this time.
"So, you see Ryan regularly? How's he?" I asked. Ryan was, I guess, his foster brother. The Cohens had taken him in after he'd gotten into a little trouble. I'd always liked Ryan and was fascinated to find out how his life had turned out.
"Ryan's great. He's living with me now - we share an apartment."
I laughed at the news, "I guess some things never change. What's he doing here?"
"Well, he was the good little son, and actually went to Berkeley and studied Engineering ,of all things... he now works at the A & R department at Arista."
I grinned widely. Hearing that did my heart good. After what Ryan been through as a child, no one deserved happiness more than he did. "My goodness, does he get to frolic with all the celebrities?"
"Every night."
We talked a bit more about old times and caught up on the new. Apparently, his grandfather had officially retired and handed over the leadership of his company to his daughter, although one wouldn't know because he insisted on visiting the office on a daily basis and breathing down Seth's poor mother's neck, demanding this and requesting that. As we sat there talking about old times, I couldn't believe how quickly we'd fallen back into our old pattern. It had been 8 long years but it seemed like 8 days. There we were smiling widely and touching one another, with no uncomfortable pauses or confusion. I hadn't felt this type of connection with anyone since him was surprised that our old flame hadn't completely burned out.
"So," he stared, "now that we've caught up, I am going to be upset if you don't send me an invite."
I was confused, "to?"
"To your wedding," he said matter-of-factly.
"Are you o.k.? What are you talking about now? What? You heard that through the grapevine?" I joked.
"No grapevine. That." He pointed at my finger. "I must have cost a pretty penny. I couldn't not notice it."
"Trust me, it did. But Seth, it's on my right hand. Not my left," I corrected him. I instinctively rubbed it. I moved my finger and it glistened in the light.
"Oh... sorry, I didn't realize it. It's so huge. The shine entered my eye and went straight to my brain, killing some cells that I just couldn't think straight."
"Funny," I replied dryly. "But yeah... I was engaged. It didn't work out but I kept the ring."
"I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?" he asked curiously.
"Well... he turned out to be gay."
"Really?" he said in disbelief.
"No... I wish that were it. He just turned out to be an asshole. As the wedding date got closer, his personality changed and he become the devil. Can you believe I wasted four years of my life with this guy?" I'd certainly not expected to say this much about it, but sometimes, my mouth acted like a broken pipe - once it I got started, it was very hard to stop. I noticed that he'd started looking at me with the sympathetic 'Oh, she's a woman scorned,' look so I put a sock in it. "But it's over now, thank God."
"How long has it been?"
"Almost a year." I looked down at my finger and back at him. It don't know if it was subconscious but suddenly the ring started to feel heavy. "I should take it off you know, but I kind of like it, plus it serves as a reminder," I explained.
He looked at me understandingly, "To stay away from men?"
I let out a short laugh. "No, I don't hate men. More like, to stay away from the wrong men... no, scratch that. It reminds me to notice the signs. Because with him, there were signs, I just ignored them."
"As my Mother would say, life is just a series of lessons - you learn and then you move on."
I smiled at his consolatory efforts, "I guess so. I have learned and I think I've moved on."
The train was starting to slow down.
"I get off at the next stop," he informed me.
"Where do you live?"
"77th and Amsterdam."
"Nice area," I commented.
"Yeah, it's nice..." He looked at his watch. "It's been great catching up with you today, Anna Stern," he said with a huge smile.
I agreed, "it has, hasn't it?"
"Where do you get off?"
"116th street."
"Oh, Columbia?"
"Yeah, I live on 119th though."
The train screeched to a halt and the door opened.
"I'd better leave now before the door shuts me in."
"Yes, you'd better."
He lingered for a little before he got up, gave me a peck on the cheek and left, waving as the train moved.
The rest of the train ride was uneventful except for a ten minute delay between 103rd and 110th streets. I didn't mind it much though, because it gave me an opportunity to replay what had just occurred in my head. When I left Newport, I was so sure I'd never see Seth Cohen again that running into him in New York City was so cliché it was surreal.
As I was exiting the station, I was shocked to see Seth standing there. He was leaning against a telephone pole and looking anxiously around the street.
"Seth," I called, trying to get his attention, "what's going on?" I was stunned. I'd already chucked the encounter as an anecdote to be told at boring cocktail parties, that this turn of events was completely unexpected.
" Great, you're here! I was scared that I'd missed you... I feel like such an idiot for not asking for your number," he said apologetically.
"Don't tell me you ran." He looked a little disheveled.
He laughed, "no, I took at cab. It was almost like I was Moses at the parting of the Red Sea, because all the roads suddenly became free and we didn't even hit a red light."
Seth could always be counted upon for coming up with unusual analogies.
"I guess it was written then," I said, playing along. I was somewhere between freaked and flattered, but whatever it was, I liked. We exchanged numbers and embraced.
"You don't need me to walk you, do you?" he asked hesitantly.
That put me in hysterics, "Seth, it's only three blocks and I do it everyday. I think I can manage."
"Alright, I guess I should be leaving now. It was nice running into you... again," he said just before he hailed a cab and left.
As I recounted the episode on my walk to the apartment, I couldn't help but giggle like a tween who'd just received her first love letter. Just before I'd left Newport, Seth had done his running thing to catch up with me at the airport, eight years later, there he was, doing it again. I guess he was one for grand gestures.
Thanks for all the tips and reviews I've received with my other fanfics. I am extremely grateful.
I do not own the OC or any of the main characters. All I own is the storyline.
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Anna's POV
I turned the page in frustration. I just could not understand why I was getting these results. In addition to all the time I spent teaching in discussion sections, and regular office hours, I encouraged my students to drop in and speak to me if they had any problems with the course work. And they did -in droves. Yet, the scores didn't reflect that. I'd taken the same subject in my undergraduate days and didn't have a lot of trouble with it. I was beginning to question my skills as a teaching assistant because they just didn't seem to understand the material.
The subway train slowed to a halt. I looked out of the window to see where we were at - Penn Station. I groaned. I still had about ten more stops till I got home. I turned my attention back to the exams and kept on grading them. I worked one day a week at local firm so I tried to manage my time efficiently. Two minutes into trying to understand the student's hand writing, I heard a voice from above me.
"Anna Stern?"
I looked up. A slightly familiar face looked back at me. I smiled and made the slightly embarrassed face everyone makes when a stranger recognizes them.
"Don't tell me you've forgotten me already," he implored.
I looked at his face and studied it. The light reflected on his dark hair and he looked about the right height and size for an Olympic sprinter - 6'0 and toned. I was still trying to remember who he was when it hit me.
"Seth Cohen?"
He smiled, "It took you long enough."
My goodness, Seth Cohen. A million lifetimes ago when I'd moved to California, Seth had been my first friend. We both enjoyed sailing, comic books and emo music, amongst other things. In some ways, we were kindred spirits, at least I'd thought so. Then we fell into a stupid love triangle with this other girl and everything fell apart. We'd tried to keep in touch after I relocated but like most things, it didn't last for long.
He looked at the seat next to me. "Hugging the seats are we?"
I was smiling and shaking my head when I picked up my bag to create room for him to sit. It had been eight years and like expected, he hadn't changed. I put the blue books in my bag and turned to him.
"So, Seth Cohen, what da hell are you doing in New York City? This is a little far from Newport." The entire time I'd known him, Seth wore sweaters in 70 degree weather so I was very surprised to find him comfortably being in New York in in the middle of February.
He looked back at me. "I should be asking you the same question, this isn't Pittsburgh," he pointed out.
"But I asked first."
"Well, I live here now. I came here after graduation. So," he was doing a mental calculation, "I've been here for about three years now."
"You've been on the East Coast for three years and you never looked me up?"
"I thought you were in Pittsburgh."
"So?" He didn't respond. "What do you do now?"
"You know the Citibank building in Long Island city?" he asked.
I nodded. It was the tallest building on that side of town..
"I work there. I'm a financial analyst for high income clients."
I was impressed. "Are you now? That's fantastic. Where did you go to college?"
"Northwestern."
I chuckled. "I bet your Dad wasn't too pleased that you didn't go to Berkeley." UC Berkeley had been Seth's father's alma mater and he made sure we didn't forget it. Seth had been his dad's mini-me that I'd expected him to follow in his footsteps.
"He wasn't but he got over it. So, what about you Anna, what have you been doing with your life?"
"I'm in graduate school working on my PhD."
"In?"
" Statistics."
"Yowsa!" he exclaimed. "Sounds difficult."
"It is, but I like it."
"There you go. As far as you like it..."
I looked him over. "You filled out a bit, haven't you?" I just couldn't get over his new look. Back in high school, Seth had been the guy who considered walking three blocks heavy exercise.
"Yeah, no more scrawny Seth - it comes with hanging out with Ryan, you see. He bought all this gym equipment that I almost felt pathetic for not using it, so I started and voila!"
"Well it looks good. You're... " I started to say...
"So," he said interrupting. "Oh, I'm sorry, you were saying?" he quickly apologized.
"No, go ahead, what did you want to say?"
"Oh, I was just saying that you look great yourself. I see your hair is different."
"Yeah," I instinctively touched my hair. I'd had this haircut for almost fours years so it was almost unusual to hear someone mention it. "It's still short but I had to change it. Seemed like suddenly everybody else had the same haircut and I just couldn't have that,"
"Ever the non-conformist," he replied remembering my old self.
"You know me." I'd been so against appearing like a sheep that I'd have worn a trash bag as a bra just to make a statement. I had grown up a lot since then but the part of me that wanted to rebel and forge my own path was still very much alive.
We both allowed our minds to wander our past and shared some laughter.
"I love your laugh," he commented looking directly into my eyes.
I got goose pimples. At one point in my life, Seth had been very important to me and for a long time after I'd left, I'd see a picture and find myself mentally transported to his room playing Jenga; just because it reminded me of his bed spread or I'll get a whiff of something and suddenly, I'd remember the times we shared reading books at Starbucks. As time went by, I'd managed to forget everything but never his eyes. Never them. He looked at me as he always had except today it was a little different. I couldn't quite put a finger on what it was and I wasn't even sure I liked it. All I knew was it made me uncomfortable.
"Well, yours is still goofy, but I'm sure some people find it cute," I joked. I'd learned that humor could be used to mask any emotion and I'd hoped that I'd been successful this time.
"So, you see Ryan regularly? How's he?" I asked. Ryan was, I guess, his foster brother. The Cohens had taken him in after he'd gotten into a little trouble. I'd always liked Ryan and was fascinated to find out how his life had turned out.
"Ryan's great. He's living with me now - we share an apartment."
I laughed at the news, "I guess some things never change. What's he doing here?"
"Well, he was the good little son, and actually went to Berkeley and studied Engineering ,of all things... he now works at the A & R department at Arista."
I grinned widely. Hearing that did my heart good. After what Ryan been through as a child, no one deserved happiness more than he did. "My goodness, does he get to frolic with all the celebrities?"
"Every night."
We talked a bit more about old times and caught up on the new. Apparently, his grandfather had officially retired and handed over the leadership of his company to his daughter, although one wouldn't know because he insisted on visiting the office on a daily basis and breathing down Seth's poor mother's neck, demanding this and requesting that. As we sat there talking about old times, I couldn't believe how quickly we'd fallen back into our old pattern. It had been 8 long years but it seemed like 8 days. There we were smiling widely and touching one another, with no uncomfortable pauses or confusion. I hadn't felt this type of connection with anyone since him was surprised that our old flame hadn't completely burned out.
"So," he stared, "now that we've caught up, I am going to be upset if you don't send me an invite."
I was confused, "to?"
"To your wedding," he said matter-of-factly.
"Are you o.k.? What are you talking about now? What? You heard that through the grapevine?" I joked.
"No grapevine. That." He pointed at my finger. "I must have cost a pretty penny. I couldn't not notice it."
"Trust me, it did. But Seth, it's on my right hand. Not my left," I corrected him. I instinctively rubbed it. I moved my finger and it glistened in the light.
"Oh... sorry, I didn't realize it. It's so huge. The shine entered my eye and went straight to my brain, killing some cells that I just couldn't think straight."
"Funny," I replied dryly. "But yeah... I was engaged. It didn't work out but I kept the ring."
"I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?" he asked curiously.
"Well... he turned out to be gay."
"Really?" he said in disbelief.
"No... I wish that were it. He just turned out to be an asshole. As the wedding date got closer, his personality changed and he become the devil. Can you believe I wasted four years of my life with this guy?" I'd certainly not expected to say this much about it, but sometimes, my mouth acted like a broken pipe - once it I got started, it was very hard to stop. I noticed that he'd started looking at me with the sympathetic 'Oh, she's a woman scorned,' look so I put a sock in it. "But it's over now, thank God."
"How long has it been?"
"Almost a year." I looked down at my finger and back at him. It don't know if it was subconscious but suddenly the ring started to feel heavy. "I should take it off you know, but I kind of like it, plus it serves as a reminder," I explained.
He looked at me understandingly, "To stay away from men?"
I let out a short laugh. "No, I don't hate men. More like, to stay away from the wrong men... no, scratch that. It reminds me to notice the signs. Because with him, there were signs, I just ignored them."
"As my Mother would say, life is just a series of lessons - you learn and then you move on."
I smiled at his consolatory efforts, "I guess so. I have learned and I think I've moved on."
The train was starting to slow down.
"I get off at the next stop," he informed me.
"Where do you live?"
"77th and Amsterdam."
"Nice area," I commented.
"Yeah, it's nice..." He looked at his watch. "It's been great catching up with you today, Anna Stern," he said with a huge smile.
I agreed, "it has, hasn't it?"
"Where do you get off?"
"116th street."
"Oh, Columbia?"
"Yeah, I live on 119th though."
The train screeched to a halt and the door opened.
"I'd better leave now before the door shuts me in."
"Yes, you'd better."
He lingered for a little before he got up, gave me a peck on the cheek and left, waving as the train moved.
The rest of the train ride was uneventful except for a ten minute delay between 103rd and 110th streets. I didn't mind it much though, because it gave me an opportunity to replay what had just occurred in my head. When I left Newport, I was so sure I'd never see Seth Cohen again that running into him in New York City was so cliché it was surreal.
As I was exiting the station, I was shocked to see Seth standing there. He was leaning against a telephone pole and looking anxiously around the street.
"Seth," I called, trying to get his attention, "what's going on?" I was stunned. I'd already chucked the encounter as an anecdote to be told at boring cocktail parties, that this turn of events was completely unexpected.
" Great, you're here! I was scared that I'd missed you... I feel like such an idiot for not asking for your number," he said apologetically.
"Don't tell me you ran." He looked a little disheveled.
He laughed, "no, I took at cab. It was almost like I was Moses at the parting of the Red Sea, because all the roads suddenly became free and we didn't even hit a red light."
Seth could always be counted upon for coming up with unusual analogies.
"I guess it was written then," I said, playing along. I was somewhere between freaked and flattered, but whatever it was, I liked. We exchanged numbers and embraced.
"You don't need me to walk you, do you?" he asked hesitantly.
That put me in hysterics, "Seth, it's only three blocks and I do it everyday. I think I can manage."
"Alright, I guess I should be leaving now. It was nice running into you... again," he said just before he hailed a cab and left.
As I recounted the episode on my walk to the apartment, I couldn't help but giggle like a tween who'd just received her first love letter. Just before I'd left Newport, Seth had done his running thing to catch up with me at the airport, eight years later, there he was, doing it again. I guess he was one for grand gestures.