Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own the characters, not even the adorable Ryan Atwood/Ben McKenzie. The OC universe and all of its characters were created by Josh Schwartz and owned by him as well. Don't sue me Josh! I mean it! No copyright infringement intended!
First and foremost, thank you to everyone who reviewed. I will start replying to reviews for Chapter 2 to show my appreciation.
To all who reviewed anonymously: It is more difficult to respond individually without a distinct screen name, but I'll respond to a few of the points made by anonymous Guest reviews. There were definitely many things I wish the creators of The OC explored when it came to Ryan, his trauma, and his relationship with the Cohens (and even his friendship with Luke). I agree that Sandy will definitely be the main person Ryan can count on throughout this story. Battling the trauma from his past will prove very difficult for Ryan as he continues on little sleep and the stress piles on from his intense college course load. He can't cope by himself, and he's going to have to learn to turn to those who care about him when he's struggling - and to open up. Therapy with a professional with also be in the works eventually.
matthewsbj: Thank you for your continued support of my stories. I'm glad that you felt I wrote Ryan's traumatic flashback in the second chapter in a realistic way. He will need a lot of therapy down the line. I hope you'll enjoy what I've done in this chapter tackling traumatic incidents from Ryan's childhood prior to living with the Cohens. I agree that Ryan needs Sandy more than ever.
lorcheto: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you'll like the third chapter.
As always, I want to give a shout-out to my AMAZING beta, beachtree. She is always so insightful and thorough, and she truly makes my writing better.
A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. It explores some trauma from Ryan's childhood. It also features Ryan mentoring/tutoring a kid, and spending time with Sandy, Kirsten, Kaitlin, Julie, and his 1-year-old half brother (Julie's son from Frank). I enjoyed writing the Ryan/Kaitlin scenes. I will be out of town for a couple of weeks coming up, and work will be intense when I return, so expect the fourth chapter in about a month.
Chapter 3
Saturday, October 11, 2008
It was a clear, cool autumn day with temperatures hovering around 55 degrees Fahrenheit. Ryan felt goosebumps rise on his exposed arms as he returned to his dorm from the laundry room. He had balanced most of the morning between cleaning, folding laundry and doing homework.
Luke was away for the weekend visiting his mother, and Ryan was using the quiet time to reflect and decompress. Quite simply, Ryan was exhausted. The past two weeks had not been easy. He had been burning both ends of the candle and the lack of rest was taking a toll on his mind and body. He had even uncharacteristically missed a couple of his regularly scheduled morning runs with Luke during the week.
Taking a deep breath, he sat on his bed and rubbed his temples to relieve tension. He opened his Calculus III textbook to finish his homework, but found himself zoning out and taking much longer than usual to get through the problems. Still, he persisted because his stomach churned at the thought of falling behind in his classes. Not to mention, he was able to keep his mind off personal demons he would rather forget by burying himself in work and school.
Staring up at his wall clock, Ryan sighed. It was already almost eleven in the morning, and he had only worked through ten problems. Disappointed in himself, he shut his textbook. It was almost time to pick Barry up anyway, so he brushed his teeth and changed into more presentable clothes.
On the plus side, Ryan had a lot to look forward to in the upcoming hours. He enjoyed volunteer work, and he and Barry would be heading over to the Berkeley Boys & Girls Club to mentor and tutor underprivileged kids through a program called UpReach. Afterwards, Ryan would be on his way to Julie Cooper's house with the Cohens for his half-brother, Logan's, first birthday party. He'd been able to get the day off from work at the restaurant.
Quickly, Ryan scanned the room and checked the back pocket of his jeans. When he was satisfied that he wasn't forgetting anything, he grabbed his black leather jacket, pulling it over his navy-blue t-shirt, and headed out the door.
Barry greeted Ryan, climbing in the Jeep Wrangler and fastening his seatbelt. As they pulled out of the gated apartment complex, Ryan yawned.
"You good to drive? Don't want you falling asleep on me," Barry teased.
Ryan turned his head slightly, giving his hallmate a sideways glare.
"Not sleeping much, I take it?" Barry asked, serious.
Ryan shook his head, yawning again. "I can't really remember the last time I slept more than four hours."
"Yeah, I know you architecture guys have it the worst in that department with studio and all," Barry said.
"Hey, man. Pre-med is no joke. Don't act like I have it harder than you."
An 80s ballad could be heard playing in the background.
Circus Life
Under the big top world
We all need the clowns
To make us smile
Through space and time
"Who's this?" Barry asked.
"Journey," Ryan replied, smiling. "I see I need to educate you on the best band of all time."
"Oh, I've heard of them. This is my first time hearing them though. How long have they been your favorite band?"
"Since I was a kid back in Chino. Got me through hard times. My elementary school soccer coach introduced me to them. What do you listen to?"
"Mostly reggae and jazz. Some hip-hop and R&B." Barry chuckled, adding, "And country." His light brown cheeks flushed darker.
Ryan's eyes danced with amusement. "I'm pretty sure Luke likes country, too," he smiled.
The sound of a generic ringtone interrupted their friendly banter. Barry looked down at his phone contemplating whether to answer it. He didn't want to be rude during the car ride, but it was the third call he'd received from his best friend that morning.
Sensing his friend's reluctance through his peripheral vision, Ryan said, "You can take the call, you know."
"You sure, man?" Barry asked.
"Yeah, of course. Handle your business," Ryan replied, thoughtfully.
"Thanks," Barry said, grateful. He answered his Nextel phone. "Kwame, what up doe? . . . Yeah, I'm good. . . sorry I missed your calls, bruh . . . sure, I'll text Janelle's new number later . . .true, but I'm sick that I got two exams Monday morning . . . yeah, yeah, tell them I'll catch them sometime next week after exams . . . bruh, yeah, I know his b-day comin' up . . . I been hip . . . man, you already know. I'm stuck here with school, but I'll send something. But hey, I'll hit you up later aiight? 'Bout to do some volunteer work . . . aiight, peace."
Like a chameleon, Barry had the ability to modify his speech and behavior to fit whomever he was talking to. On the one hand, he grew up in the Detroit suburbs in an upper middle-class family. They were one of the few Jamaican families in the area. On the other hand, most of his friends had grown up in less fortunate conditions in the inner city. Ryan admired how Barry was able to adapt while remaining true to himself regardless of who he was talking to.
"Sorry about that," Barry apologized after shutting his phone.
"No need to apologize. He one of your friends from back home?"
"Yeah, he's my best friend, Kwame. We went to high school together. He was just trying to get a mutual friend's new number to plan a surprise birthday party."
"That sounds cool. Too bad you can't go because of school," Ryan replied.
"Hey, it is what it is, man. I'm good," Barry said, taking out a small can of ginger ale from his bag. "You want some pop?" he offered.
Ryan smiled. "I'm good. Thanks, though. We're about to pull into the parking lot anyway."
Quinesha Johnson, the director of the UpReach program, greeted Ryan and Barry at the front entrance of the Boys & Girls Club. After having the two volunteers sign some paperwork, she gave them a welcome packet that included contact information for the parents of the children they would be tutoring. She then led them down a small corridor to a large hall where other tutors had already begun teaching sessions with their respective students.
"Ryan, you've been assigned to Mateo Hernandez. His momma usually picks him up right after the session. He's right over there," Ms. Johnson said, pointing to a short, muscular kid with a dark olive complexion. He wore a cross necklace, and a red Dodgers cap covered most of his thick black hair. "Barry, you've been assigned to Ricky De León," she continued. "He stays at the Boys & Girls Club after his tutoring sessions. His dad works until the late afternoon and picks him up when he gets off. That's him sitting at the end of the table." She gestured towards a chubby kid with fair skin and curly brown hair.
Ryan found a seat next to the young boy he'd been paired with to tutor for the semester.
"My name's Ryan," he introduced himself. "I'm going to be helping you with your math homework today."
"Mateo," the seventh grader said shyly, not making eye contact.
"It's nice to meet you, Mateo. Are you from Berkeley?"
The boy shook his head in response. "Oakland," he answered. His disposition reminded Ryan of himself when he was that age.
"Very cool. My little brother lives in Oakland. I'm actually visiting him later today." Ryan's eyes expressed kindness as his lips curved into a small half smile. "How old are you?"
"Twelve."
"Twelve. So, you must be in . . . seventh grade?" Ryan asked, his voice gentle.
The young boy simply nodded, still not meeting his tutor's eyes.
"You a Dodgers fan?" Ryan asked, hoping to connect with the middle schooler. He wanted the seventh grader to trust him.
Mateo finally relaxed, making eye contact with Ryan for the first time.
"Yeah." The boy smiled.
"I like the Dodgers, too," Ryan grinned. "You play baseball?"
Again, the timid boy nodded and smiled. "Yeah. I play third base."
"I was a pitcher, catcher, and played second base back in the day. Do you know what you want to be when you grow up?"
"A pilot!" Mateo exclaimed, his eyes brightening.
"That's a great goal, Mateo." Ryan smiled tenderly. "You can be whatever you put your mind to." He paused before adding, "You'll need to know math to be a pilot. You like math?"
"Not really," the boy shrugged.
"Well maybe you just haven't had the right teacher yet," Ryan winked at his pupil. "Try giving math another shot. I'll try to make it fun for you."
"Cool," the boy smiled softly.
"We're going to try some of your homework problems now, okay?" Ryan flipped through Mateo's textbook to find the correct page.
"Okay, so the first problem is 2x = 10. Do you remember how to solve for x?" Ryan asked.
Mateo shook his head.
"That's okay. I'll teach you." Ryan moved to the dry erase board and began writing the problem on the board. "This means two times the variable x equals ten. The goal when you're solving a problem like this is to get x on one side of the equation by itself. First, we want to divide both sides of the equation by two. If we divide the left-hand side by two, then we have to do the same to the right side to get our solution." Ryan demonstrated his work on a nearby dry erase board and Mateo copied it down. "So, you see? X here is equal to five. Now you try the next one."
Ryan jotted the next problem on the board, 4x = 8, and handed Mateo the blue marker. Mateo worked out the problem on the board, getting the correct answer.
"Great job, my man," Ryan grinned, giving the excited kid a high five. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
Mateo beamed with pride.
After the tutoring session was over, Ryan and Mateo made their way outside with a few other children. Barry joined them after walking Ricky to the Boys & Girls Club's gymnasium.
"Hey, man. I'm going to wait with Mateo in the parking lot for his mom to arrive."
"That's cool. I'll be waiting over here in the shade," the tall pre-med student replied, gesticulating towards a nearby bench that was situated underneath a row of oak trees.
As Ryan and Mateo walked to the parking lot, Ryan listened intently to his pupil's chatter about cartoons and movies. In just an hour and a half, the seventh grader's disposition had transformed from timid to talkative. Ryan took that as a sign that the kid had become comfortable around him.
"You know, you were right, Mr. Ryan," Mateo said. "I do like math now."
Ryan smiled softly. "Please just call me Ryan," he reminded the boy.
Inwardly Ryan was wrought with emotion. Helping these kids realize their potential meant a lot to him because it is what Sandy did for him. He knew he owed the Cohens, especially Sandy, so much, and he wanted to pay it forward. Sometimes he even wondered what his life would have been like had he met Sandy earlier.
After fifteen minutes of waiting around, Ryan became concerned and phoned Mateo's mom. When she didn't answer, he continued listening to his pupil talk about his favorite video games. It was now almost one in the afternoon, and the temperature had warmed by several degrees. Mateo slid off his thin jacket, exposing his arms.
Ryan's eyes trailed the line of dark bruises on the young boy's arms, and his breathing hitched in the back of his throat.
There was dead silence.
Ten-year-old Ryan walks past the worn linen couch with his backpack in hand, and accidentally bumps a half empty bottle of whiskey off the cracked side table. The bottle shatters as it hits the stained linoleum floor, shards of glass scattering in all directions over brown liquid.
"You worthless piece of s-!" Travis sneers at Ryan, closing the distance between them. "You're gonna pay for that, boy! Who the f- do you think you are?"
Travis snatches Ryan's backpack from his small hands and throws it across the confined space of the living room. Ryan's science book is damaged in the process, as the spine of the book becomes detached/separated from the book's pages.
Travis proceeds to grab Ryan by both arms. His large, sweaty palms grip Ryan's arms so tightly that the fifth grader is sure that he'll have more bruises.
"Dawn should've aborted ya . . . you stupid mother f-er," Travis slurs angrily.
Ryan winces, both from pain and from the sting of the Travis' words.
The small boy whimpers, struggling to escape from the older man's firm grasp, but the gruff, two-hundred-fifty-pound man is far too strong.
Young Ryan can feel Travis' warm breath blow across his face as Travis continues yelling expletives at him. The large man's breath reeks of beer, cigarettes, and hard liquor. Ryan turns his head away to avoid the rank odor, but Travis briefly loosens his grip with one hand and strikes him on the right side of his head, over his ear.
His right ear ringing, Ryan shields his head with his arms while Travis takes several more swings at his thin frame.
"Stop it already, baby!" Exclaims Dawn. "Leave my kid alone!" She sobs in the background, but does nothing else—too inebriated to protect her child. Ryan wishes Trey was there to step in and protect him, but Trey is in juvie.
Ryan curls into a fetal position as Travis continues striking him until he passes out from sheer pain and exhaustion.
"Ryan, are you okay?" Mateo asked nervously. He repeated the question a few times before his tutor finally snapped out of his trance.
Swallowing thickly, Ryan's gaze flickered between Mateo's bruised arms and the twelve-year-old's confused expression.
"I—how did you—are you—are you okay? That looks…," Ryan trailed off, motioning towards Mateo's arms. His breathing was still slightly labored due to anxiety.
Mateo realized his tutor was concerned about the bruises on his arms. "Oh, it's nothing, Ryan. I'm okay. I got these playing football. Johnny really cleaned the clock. We had a scrimmage game a few days ago and he decked me."
Ryan carefully studied the expression in the boy's eyes. He seemed to be telling the truth. Ryan sighed in relief and slowly nodded, still too shaken to say much more.
A minute or so passed before Ryan finally got his bearings. Taking another deep breath, he said, "Football, huh?" He held eye contact with the boy in front of him. "I played football in middle school, too. Safety and wide receiver."
"I play running back," the twelve-year-old beamed proudly.
Just then, the honking of a vehicle interrupted their conversation. Turning in the direction of the sound, Ryan could see a blue Mazda 6 pulling up to the curb.
"Mami!" Mateo exclaimed, running towards the car excitedly. His mother opened the car door and he climbed into the passenger seat.
"Mami, conocer a mi maestro del programa de tutoría. Su nombre es Señor Ryan."
"Hello, Señor Atwood," she said with a thick Spanish accent. "The program coordinator told me it would be you teaching my son. Gracias para ayudar a mi hijo."
Grateful that he'd picked up some Spanish during his years living next to Theresa and Eva Diaz in Chino, he smiled softly and waved.
"De nada, Señora Hernandez. Good meeting you."
Barry approached Ryan quickly after Mrs. Hernandez drove off. He had seen Ryan and Mateo interact from a distance. Although he hadn't heard what was said, he sensed that something was wrong.
"You good? You look like you saw a ghost."
"I'm fine," Ryan answered too quickly, his body language betraying his words. Barry could tell his friend was fighting to control his breathing.
"What happened?" Barry asked, concern etched in his features.
"I don't know." Ryan's lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes briefly flickering to his boots.
"You're not fine, but I get it. You're not talkin'. Just know this. If you ever change your mind, I'm a pretty good listener."
Ryan's expressive blue eyes met Barry's brown ones. He recognized that his new friend was sincere.
"Thanks, man" is the only response he could muster. He felt guilty for shutting Barry out, but also relieved that Barry understood he didn't feel like talking. He had no idea how he was going to get through his baby brother's birthday party.
It was a few minutes past three o'clock when Ryan arrived at the Cohen house. The afternoon sun had raised the temperature to nearly 70 degrees Fahrenheit. Ryan had helped Sandy and Kirsten load numerous gifts and baked goods into the back of the Range Rover. The plan was to all ride in one vehicle to Logan Cooper's first birthday party.
While Sandy sat in the driver's seat talking to the Nana on his cellphone, Sophie cooed and giggled in Kirsten's arms. "Mama," the fourteen-month-old murmured. She began to cry as Kirsten set her down to strap her into the car seat over the middle rear seat.
Ryan was standing to the left of Kirsten outside of the family vehicle. "Can you please pass me the pacifier?" Kirsten asked him, trying to sooth her baby girl. He handed her the rubber teething-ring and the proud mother placed it in Sophie's mouth.
"Thanks, Ryan. There are some toys for her to play with in the backseat if she doesn't fall asleep."
"No problem. I'll keep an eye on her," Ryan nodded in understanding, climbing into the left rear seat. He'd been babysitting his surrogate baby sister all year and was very protective of her. Even at his most despondent, being around her always helped him relax.
"Is everyone strapped in and ready to go?" Sandy asked, shutting his phone.
"Yes," Ryan and Kirsten answered simultaneously.
"How's the Nana?" Kirsten inquired.
"She's good. Still an AK-47. Thankfully, now healthy as a horse."
Chuckling, Kirsten said, "I'm glad you two are close now." Ryan quietly agreed from the backseat.
"Me, too." Sandy smiled, backing the SUV out of the driveway. "Alright, time to see the great Julie Cooper-Nichol-Cooper-Almost Roberts-Almost Bullit-Almost Atwood. Did I forget any surnames?"
Wrinkling his forehead, Ryan said, "I vaguely remember a dream, maybe around Chrismukkah a few years back. . .I don't remember details, but I think she was a Cohen. . ."
Sandy quirked one of his bushy black eyebrows. "She married Seth in your dream? Talk about an unholy alliance. . ."
"Actually. . .she married you," Ryan replied facetiously. "And Kirsten ended up with Jimmy."
Kirsten grimaced. "Oh, thank God that never happened!"
Normally the trip to Oakland took twenty minutes, but the family made a brief stop along the way to pick up a candle for Logan's birthday cake and purchase some soda.
Sophie had fallen asleep, and Ryan had stayed in the vehicle, pensively staring out the window while Kirsten went inside the grocery store. He'd tried to be upbeat when first arriving at the Cohens', but he was having difficulty controlling anxiety that had been triggered by seeing the bruises on Mateo's arms. He knew Mateo was fine, and he wasn't quite sure why a memory from ten years ago was still making him feel so uneasy.
"You okay, kid?" Sandy asked, concerned. Ryan was generally a quiet person, but Sandy noticed that he was even quieter than usual, especially considering the happy occasion. Before Ryan could answer, Kirsten returned to the vehicle carrying one bag of groceries.
Ryan wanted to tell his surrogate father the truth. He wanted to tell him how overwhelmed he was . . . that he wasn't sleeping much . . . that he was terrified of falling behind in his classes . . . that his dreams were bringing to the surface childhood memories that he would rather forget . . . that these memories were causing him to feel anxious throughout the day . . . and that any reminder of these memories was making things worse. However, he couldn't. Kirsten was now sitting in the passenger seat, and this was not a conversation he was ready to have around her. It's not that he didn't trust Kirsten. She had been good to him. He just felt more comfortable confiding in Sandy about certain things. Whether subconsciously or otherwise, part of him still felt like he had to keep proving to Kirsten that he was worthy of all the blessings the Cohens continued to bestow upon him, whereas all walls had completely dissipated around Sandy over the past four years.
For now, Ryan simply nodded. He'd eventually talk to Sandy about the issues that were burdening him, but not now.
"I'll be okay. Thanks, Sandy," he replied instead. It wasn't a lie, he hoped. He would be okay.
The Cooper-Nichol-Cooper house was modest in size with beautiful architecture. It was a ranch style home located on an acre of land with a gray stucco and red brick exterior. Large bay windows gave the home a more modern feel.
Although Julie didn't marry Bullit, he had bought her the home as a parting gift before moving back to Texas. He knew she wanted to be closer to Sandy and Kirsten, and the house was within close proximity to The College Preparatory School, the well-ranked high school that Kaitlin now attended. Located in a middle-class neighborhood on the nicer side of town, Julie was grateful not to be living in a trailer after losing almost everything.
As the Cohens parked at the end of the long driveway, Julie came outside to greet them. Kirsten was the first to step out of the Range Rover, carrying two grocery bags.
"Hi, Kiki," The redhead from Riverside said, pulling her longtime friend into a hug. "How have you been?"
"Hello, Julie," Kirsten smiled, returning the hug. "I've been doing well. Just tired. Rearing a child certainly hasn't gotten any easier."
"Tell me about it," Julie agreed. "Here, let me help you," she offered, taking the groceries from Kirsten's hand. Glancing down at one of the bags, she noticed a container of caramel frozen yogurt. "Caramel froyo?! You're the best, Kirsten!"
"I remembered that it's your favorite," Kirsten smiled.
Sandy approached, leaning a sleeping Sophie into his shoulder.
"Sandy," Julie smiled warmly, turning her attention to the dark-haired man in front of her. "I'm so glad you guys could make it."
"Of course, we made it Julie. We wouldn't miss such a major milestone in Logan's life. Thank you for the invite. It's good to see you."
"Wow, she's getting so big," Kaitlin commented, looking in Sophie's direction. Her sudden presence took Sandy by surprise.
"Oh, you really are a ninja," he joked with the teenage girl in front of him.
"Hi Mr. Cohen, didn't mean to startle ya," Kaitlin chuckled, imitating Sandy's accent. "I've got more impressions of you, by the way. I've been dying to show you."
"Where's Ryan?" Julie asked, breaking the flow of conversation.
"Right here," he responded. The Coopers shifted their heads to see Ryan standing in the driveway carrying several wrapped gifts, blue helium balloons, and a box of soda. There was also a camera bag strapped over his shoulder. "Hey, Julie." His eyes shifted to his almost stepsister. "Kaitlin," he affably greeted the teenager.
"Hey, Ryan," Kaitlin grinned. "Time to get this party started."
Over the next two hours, the Coopers and their guests spent quality time socializing, eating pizza, and playing board games. Ryan felt much more relaxed after playing with his little half-brother. Logan was already walking and was curious and outgoing by nature. He had a full head of reddish-blond hair and an adorable smile that could melt even the iciest of hearts.
"He has your eyes, Ryan," Julie pointed out.
Ryan looked at her curiously, a sheepish smile softening his chiseled features.
"It nearly kills me to agree with anything Julie Cooper says, but in this rare instance she's right. He does have your eyes," Sandy jumped in, grinning at his surrogate son. "And Logan's smile? It's totally you!" Sandy chuckled, squeezing Ryan's cheeks affectionately.
Ryan furrowed his brow quizzically.
"Oh, he does have your eyes and smile!" Kirsten chimed in.
Ryan shook his head, the sheepish grin still plastered on his face. "Wow. You guys are really trying hard to make me blush."
"They don't have to try hard for that," Kaitlin snorted. Ryan gave her the stare of death in response. "What?! Your cheeks are totally pink right now!"
Ryan changed the subject. "I think this is my cue to get the candle so that we can cut the cake."
"Mhmm. Deflecting," Kaitlin teased. "Besides, Logan can't even eat cake. Let's be honest with ourselves here. Celebrating a one-year-old's birthday is totally just another excuse for adults to get together and eat junk food," she rolled her eyes humorously.
"That sounds about right. Shall we open presents?" Julie suggested.
"Definitely. I think Seth mailed Logan some Batman baby underpants that he's too young to use," Ryan replied with an impish grin.
"Ryan, don't say underpants," Kirsten scolded playfully.
"It's not like Logan is going to remember any of this anyway," Kaitlin shrugged.
"Not true," Ryan said, pulling his Canon digital camera out of his bag. "He will. Every year we'll take photos and videos, and he'll get to see these fun moments when he's older." Ryan's faint, but emotional smile reached his eyes. He wanted Logan to have the positive childhood memories he didn't have.
"I think that's a great idea," Sandy nodded, gently patting Ryan on the back.
Ryan started recording as the family began the most intimate moments of the celebration. Kaitlin lit the single candle on the chocolate cake while the older adults gathered around the dining table to sing happy birthday. Ryan fixed the camera on his tripod and joined the others to open presents. Little Logan and Sophie giggled and cooed in their highchairs as Julie and Kaitlin tore into the wrapping paper to reveal each gift. The baby boy received several packs of diapers and three outfits from Sandy and Kirsten, a toy truck and bouncy ball from Ryan, and more clothes from Kaitlin and Julie. Sure enough, Seth had mailed Batman baby undies for Logan, and Summer had mailed Logan a Dr. Seuss book.
Most importantly, Ryan was making important memories with Logan that he would cherish for the rest of his life.
After the celebration, Kirsten breastfed Sophie in the family room where Julie and Sandy were watching television. Julie had recently re-acquainted herself with Nick at Nite. Ryan and Kaitlin had long since disappeared into Kaitlin's bedroom, where Flapjacks had been sleeping in his cage.
"Here he is. I told you I've been taking good care of him." Kaitlin pulled the pet bunny out of the cage and handed him to his owner. Pets were not allowed at Norton Hall, so Kaitlin had volunteered to rabbit sit for the semester.
"Summer will be proud," he chuckled. "Flapjacks, if Kaitlin ever hurts you, I want you to squeal really loud. . .," Ryan whispered dramatically, nuzzling the bunny's nose.
"You're becoming weirder and weirder . . . like Seth." Kaitlin rolled her eyes.
"Maybe it rubs off," he shrugged.
"You barely even see him. And here I thought living with Luke would make you cool again," she joked.
Ryan threw her one of his trademark glares. "So, you'll be graduating soon. Do you know what colleges you're applying to? Berkeley maybe?" he asked the high school senior, redirecting the conversation.
"Ryan, no offense, but since you started college at Berkeley, you've turned into a total dork," Kaitlin remarked, smirking. "I'd like to avoid having the same fate."
Ryan feigned offense. "Wow, that really hurts," he responded sarcastically, putting his bunny back into its cage.
"Hey, as your honorary sister, poking fun at you is what I do best."
"Well as your honorary brother, your room is looking a little bedraggled these days," he shot back.
"Bedraggled?" Kaitlin quirked an eyebrow, confused.
"SAT word. You've taken it, right?" He smiled smugly.
"Uh, well I'm retaking it November 1, actually," she shrugged. "It didn't go so well the first time."
"On a serious note, Kaitlin, I really care about your future. You can be the first Cooper girl in your family to go to college. I don't want to see you throw that away."
Kaitlin felt a pang of guilt. Ryan was right. Her mom never graduated from high school and neither did Aunt Cindy. She bit back emotion thinking about the fate of her older sister.
"Mills College," the seventeen-year-old finally answered the original question.
"Wh-what?" Ryan asked softly.
"Mills College. That's where I'm applying. Brad and Eric are applying to UCLA, but I want to stay close to home. With my mom home most of the time, taking care of our baby brother, I feel like I finally have a family again. Mills College is in Oakland, so I could live in the house and help take care of Logan. Plus, I'd still be close to you and the Cohens. Besides, to borrow a word from Seth, boys are my kryptonite . . . and Mills College is an all-girls school. To find myself, I think I'm going to need a break from boys."
Kaitlin had never said any of that out loud.
"I definitely understand that. All of it, actually. Family is everything, and I'm also trying to do the single thing for a while," Ryan responded softly. "You've matured a lot in two years," he added.
Kaitlin smiled at Ryan's supportive words. His blue eyes conveyed an element of warmth that told her he truly cared, and she had grown fond of his calming presence. She also appreciated that he was always there to listen. She had so often felt neglected and forgotten by her family, especially when she went to boarding school. After Marissa's death, she felt even more lost and alone with her mom grieving and her dad nowhere in the picture. During that turbulent time, Ryan and Bullit were the two people in her life who had been consistent. If it were not for them, she would have gotten completely off track.
"Thanks, Ryan. That—that really means a lot."
"Hey, I'm here. If you ever need help . . . writing your personal statement, getting your application together, or applying to scholarships, let me know. It's what big brothers are for."
It was past nine when Ryan entered the living room. The Cohens and Julie Cooper were still watching Nick at Nite and socializing. The sound of the opening theme of Growing Pains began emanating from the soundbar. Upon hearing the song, Ryan stopped dead in his tracks, averting his eyes from the television and covering both ears. His feet felt heavy, planted on the carpeted floor beneath him while he struggled to control his breathing.
*Show me that smile again
Oh, show me that smile again*
Seven-years-old. Brown hair. Bright blue eyes. Dimpled smile.
*Don't waste another minute on your cryin'*
"I'll protect you. I promise," he says. They share a bunk together in the cramped space. She cries and he comforts her. Both children are used to brutal beatings, but she is much more delicate.
*We're nowhere near the end
We're nowhere near*
Large hands. Crowbar. Blood. So much blood. His small body jumps to her defense, but he is struck to the ground and pinned down.
*The best is ready to begin*
Her body goes limp in front of him.
"I'm sorry, Mimi. . .I'm so sorry. . .I was too weak. . .I'm so sorry," Ryan whimpered in a childlike voice before darting to Kaitlin's bedroom and slamming the door shut. Although Ryan's voice was quiet, Sandy heard him.
Frank's brother, Butch, used to leave the television on all day. Shortly after Frank was arrested for armed robbery, Ryan stayed with Butch and his daughter, Mimi. Ryan and Mimi were the same age. Re-runs of Growing Pains would play in the evenings. That tragic day, the show was playing when it happened. Ryan shuddered at the fragmented and distant memories.
As of late, Ryan realized that the less he slept and the more stress he was under, the greater difficulty he had coping with reminders of traumatic events from his past. In that instant, his mind had become enveloped by flashes of chopped up, but vivid images and sounds. It felt as though he was briefly reliving the horror, but most of his memories from that night had been repressed for a long time. He hadn't heard the Growing Pains theme song, or seen Butch, in years. But it hadn't been long enough. Would it ever be?
"Oh my God, what just happened?" Kaitlin asked, worried. Kirsten and Julie shared equally perplexed expressions.
"Ryan?" Sandy called. He rushed to Kaitlin's bedroom door and knocked. After calling Ryan's name several more times, there was no answer. The door was unlocked, so Sandy let himself in. Ryan was sitting on the bed, staring at the wall. His eyes appeared glossy and unfocused, as if he were stuck in a bad dream. Although Sandy was facing the direction of Ryan's line of vision, Ryan appeared to be looking right through him.
Ryan flinched when his father figure placed his hand on his shoulder causing Sandy's heart to sink.
"Ryan, talk to me. What happened out there?"
Ryan averted his eyes from Sandy's gaze.
"What's going on, kid? Talk to me."
Still, Ryan did not answer.
"Ryan, who's Mimi?"
Ryan's frown deepened at the sound of his cousin's name.
"Kid? It's me. Please. I'm here for you. Talk to me."
The two sat in silence for the next several minutes. Finally, Ryan whispered, "Sandy." His eyes slowly came back into focus. "I, uh. . .I'm. . .sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm just worried about you." This time, when Sandy placed his right arm around Ryan's shoulder, he didn't flinch.
"I know," Ryan said weakly.
"What happened out there?" Sandy tried again for an answer.
"I don't know," Ryan replied. "I don't understand what's happening to me. I used to be able to. . ." Control it better. . .to hide it, he thought to himself.
"To what, kid?"
Ryan avoided eye contact with his mentor. Head bowed, he felt mostly shame in that moment.
"Does this have anything to do with your life before you came to live with us?"
Nodding slowly, Ryan said, "I can't explain. I don't—I don't know how to explain it. I'm sorry."
"I can't help you unless you talk to me," Sandy replied. Sandy couldn't let it show that he was out of his element, extremely worried, or let himself be frustrated. He realized Ryan was probably just trying to pull himself together, and it would be insensitive for Sandy to push him further. Still, Sandy's voice conveyed a mixture of fear and concern.
"I know," Ryan murmured. "I'm sorry. I know I've disappointed you. It's—it's been a weird day. . ."
Sandy's heart sank again. Even though the kid had spent so many years living with them, and had accomplished so much, he still saw himself as a disappointment.
Sandy pulled his surrogate son into a hug, causing him to let his guard down in a way he hadn't since the evening Trey left Newport for good. That night, Sandy had served as a pillar—allowing the vulnerable teenager to express whatever pain he felt as Sandy held him comfortingly by the bus stop.
"Ryan, I want you to know this. I'm not going anywhere. When you're finally ready to open up, I'm all ears."
A/N: The next few chapters are already written. Summer makes an appearance in the next chapter. I always loved her friendship with Ryan, and they will have a lengthy conversation. As always, please read and review. It means the world to me, and I do consider everyone's feedback.