Summary: Marissa and Ryan's thoughts after they sleep together.
Background: This takes place in season two. Ryan and Marissa have gotten back together (obviously...) and Trey is back from Chino, although it doesn't matter in this chapter. Trey has NOT tried to rape Marissa.
This story is a continuation of Join the Club and Afraid of the Unknown. You can easily read this without having read either of these stories, although the part about clubs will be a lot clearer if you read Join the Club (which you should go read anyway and review! Same goes for Afraid of the Unknown).
A/N: Okay. So. This is, as you would know if you read the above paragraph, a continuation of Join the Club and Afraid of the Unknown. The entire story (yes, it will be more than one chapter...a three part story) is about Marissa and Ryan's thoughts after they had sex (although I am not writing something about when they actually have sex). The first chapter (what you are about to read) is Marissa's thoughts. A head's up, there are a lot of metaphors in here. I have tried to make them as obvious as possible, but I apologize if they are hard to understand. I don't want to give anything away, but I want to be sure that you can understand and enjoy this story. On that note, the part about clubs (which is like half of the story) is all in her imagination. She is not actually walking into one club, or being faced with an actual door (it will all make sense later, don't worry). Just wanted to clear that up. So now, about reviews. Please please please review! I would like any and ALL reviews. If you review I will personally thank you in the next chapter (in the A/N.)
P.S.--I just want to give a HUMONGOUS thanks to everyone who reviewed Afraid of the Unknown. I loved reading your reviews that just seemed to keep coming. Thanks!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything that has to do with the O.C. I do, however, own the story. Do not steal and do not copy.
Well, she was finally a woman.
Although, technically, Marissa had become a woman two years earlier, but that didn't really count.
Last night, Marissa Cooper had slept with Ryan Atwood.
Yeah, that kind of sleeping with.
The kind where clothes are thrown off and two bodies become one.
Their clothes hadn't really been thrown off, though. They had been peeled away, piece by piece, revealing the tan skin underneath.
For so many months, Marissa had dreamed of having sex with Ryan. It had caused her much agony and had taken up many hours of her time.
Now that she had slept with a grand total of two, that's right, count them, two, people, she felt compelled to compare them.
Them meaning the sex she had with them.
She already spent too much time comparing them in general as it was.
Oh, who was she kidding? Did it really matter how they matched up? The only thing that mattered was which was better.
There was really no question there.
Wait for it, wait for it—
Ryan.
Ryan was better. So much better. Better than she could have ever imagined.
Maybe it was because she was actually in love with him.
Or perhaps it was because haste and spite had not been involved in any way.
Hell, it could have been because Ryan was just way more experienced than Luke.
No matter what though, it all boiled down to the point that sex with Ryan had been amazing.
Scratch that. Making love with Ryan had been amazing.
Did that sound too cheesy? Because Marissa was sure that was what they had done.
Nothing that magical or sacred could be described in ordinary words.
By the way, sex was an ordinary word.
Love—now that was an extraordinary word, a word not used lightly, a word that only the special few were allowed to use.
Marissa officially declared herself as a part of those special few.
Arrogant sounding, she knew, but for the next 24 hours, she declared that she was allowed to be a little arrogant.
Again, arrogant. But did she really care?
Nope.
She could not remember the last time she had felt this…free. It felt as if her whole world had been dropped onto a cloud. Not even her mom could bring her down.
Which was pretty amazing in itself.
Sure, Julie had questioned Marissa about where she had been last night. But Marissa had been prepared and had already concocted an excellent story.
Excellent was pushing it a little, especially since the lie about spending the night at Summer's had been used a lot, but even the most mundane things had a heavenly glow around them.
She was starting to think that she should have sex more often. It did amazing things for her attitude.
Not to mention, her hair seemed to be working more towards her way and her face seemed to glow.
Ah, the joys of being in love.
As she had lain there, wrapped in his arms, thoroughly exhausted by what they had just done, she had never felt so wonderful. Marissa wished that she could spend the rest of her life snuggled up beside Ryan, enveloped in his muscular arms and protected from the outside world.
She wished she could have captured that moment in a bottle and placed it on a shelf for future use. Whenever she was feeling sad or depressed, she would just whip out that bottle, take one teaspoon (or a tablespoon depending on how terrible she was feeling), and all her problems would melt away.
What was she doing thinking about rainy days though? Today was beautiful, bright and sunny. A rainbow was out, even though it hadn't rained.
Or maybe she was just imagining the rainbow…
Has anyone ever compared sex to drugs? Because Marissa was sure that this was what the world on drugs looked like.
Having never had taken drugs (shocking yes, but the truth), she couldn't be sure if this analogy was accurate.
Marissa had heard of Second Virgins. She wondered if perhaps she had become one of them after Luke, and it really was like she had just lost her virginity.
Except that Second Virgins had sex loads of times but then decided to stop having sex and wait until marriage to start up again.
Seeing how she hadn't had sex any times since losing her virginity and she hadn't waited until marriage to have sex again, that term didn't really fit her.
Still, it was if she had just lost one part of her life and reclaimed another.
She didn't really believe in the fact that when one door closed, another door opened. But when she really looked back over her life (or at least the past two years), it would seem as if one door had always opened when the present one closed.
When she and Luke broke up, for instance, Marissa found Ryan. Definitely a better door.
When the door had closed behind Ryan as he left for Chino, a grass-stained door opened. That would be, D.J. came into her life. Perhaps not a better door, but a different one.
After her mom had run D.J. off, a door covered in beer bottle caps and pink had opened. Never had Marissa thought that standing behind any door would be Alex.
Even though Ryan had been the one that had made Alex shut their door, Marissa was okay with it. After all, the door that had opened was one covered in wife beaters, cigarettes, and blueprints.
Okay, so Second Virgin was not the right term for her. And it seemed that there were a lot of doors in her life. So perhaps the door metaphor went for the club scene.
Marissa had a hard time believing that she was the only person in the world who had been dissatisfied with her first time. Surely there were tons of people out there who had lost their virginity to the wrong person. There had to be a club for people like her.
Sadly, she had yet to find it. The only door that had opened up for her after seeing the plain white door of the Virgin Club close in her face had been the one to the Experienced Club. It had been very different from that of the Virgin's, what with its ever growing mural of condom wrappers and pills.
The Experienced Club reminded her of Tijuana. People were every where, drinks were in everyone's hands, and the lights made the whole room look like a flip book.
Of course, there were people scattered through out the club who were alone and depressed. At the bar, a few sullen teenagers sat with three or four empty shot glasses surrounding them, a full glass in their hand.
Marissa always imagined herself as one of the teenagers sitting at the bar.
Although, she only had one shot glass in front of her.
For two years now, the same full glass had rested in her hand, just waiting to be tossed back, ready to start the steady stream of drinks.
Today though, Marissa walked up to the bar and could not find herself. The third barstool over was always her stool. Today it was occupied by a small guy that couldn't have been older than her. He was currently tossing back a shot, the counter in front of him empty save for a coaster and a napkin with a number written on it. The boy grimaced as the alcohol went down and reached for the napkin to wipe his mouth. A sleazy looking bartender poured him another and the boy took it in his hand.
Marissa turned away, knowing that just yesterday the glass had been inches away from her mouth.
She started to search the crowd for a face she knew, especially the one that looked back at her from the mirror. The smoke clouded her vision, but she was able to make out some of her fellow classmates. All of a sudden she spotted a face she had not seen in a long time.
Luke! He was dancing with a brunette and tossing back a beer. No grimace passed over his face; instead a smile formed quickly as the brunette beside him nursed her drink.
Obviously, Marissa was not in here tonight. But why? Every night for two years she had been in this club. Some nights the glass had been closer to her mouth than others, but the glass had been there.
She made her way to a wall that wasn't as crowded as the rest. A corkboard was up, with Polaroid pictures of people posted up on it. There seemed to be two columns, although both were quite bare.
Through the smoke filled haze, she could make out that one column was Moved On and the other was Given Up. There were more people under Given Up than there were under Moved On. Curious as to what these columns meant, she started scanning the pictures. All of a sudden she let out a little shriek.
There, under the Moved On column was a picture of Ryan. On the white part of the Polaroid were the words Ryan Atwood, member since age 13.
A little farther down was a picture of her. Marissa Cooper, member since age 16.
The room began to slowly fall away and Marissa found herself in front of a door covered with all sorts of random memorabilia. There was a cigarette, a mini Ferris Wheel, a hat that said 2004!, a wife beater, and other things that all reminded Marissa of memories shared with Ryan.
Slowly, she pushed open the door, not sure of what to expect. The sight that greeted her was a welcome one.
The club was made similarly to the pool house. It was comfortable and familiar.
Ryan was sitting on the bed. Also a comforting sight.
It must be the club that the lucky ones get to. Only a few people ever got to this club.
And here she was, a proud member, at the young age of 17.
No longer did Marissa want to be a part of the Virgin Club.
It finally hit her that being a part of the Experienced Club wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. All those nights of sitting at the bar, waiting for the next bitter taste of sex…it wasn't right. Maybe for some people, but not for her.
Now this club, this club was the perfect one.
Marissa imagined that everyone who was a part of her club (the club that she had just newly discovered) had a different club room. Probably whatever room had the most meaning or was the most comfortable.
There was only one thing missing:
A name.
The club needed a name.
But what to call it? It had to be something special, something extravagant.
The more Marissa thought about, the more she was stumped. Maybe the club didn't have a name for a reason. Maybe it didn't need a name after all.
It wasn't like all the other clubs out there. Perhaps not having a name was just another thing that set above all the others.
The Nameless Club.
Marissa Cooper was finally a member of the Nameless Club.
And proud of it.