Second-hand Emotion   

Chapter 4: Color Me Surprised

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the show or any of the characters in it.

A/N: So, it's been awhile. Writing a happy chapter isn't the best thing to do when you're in the opposite frame of mind. For Predictably Naïve, the story started out with only two chapters planned but I'm thinking of having it as a backup for whenever I need a change. Anyway, I was pretty much on a high from seeing that certain people reviewed and actually read my story. But I'm basically positive that this chapter's going to suck and hoping that the next one will be decent.  

Song Featured:

Hands Down – Dashboard Confessionals

French OPT's, English papers, sleepless nights… school is in session. Taking his time, Seth hears his own footsteps down the corridor as he makes his way out of the school building after an afternoon lab. He's left with his skateboard as he has told Ryan to take the car since "of course he'll just get a ride from someone else" giving the notion that he did in fact have other options. Marissa had a car. Why wasn't Seth smart enough to realize that Ryan would be with her anyway?

He's finally reached freedom (mildly put) when he hears a very familiar "Sh-t!" Poking his head through the nearest doorway, Seth sees Summer avoiding the spreading puddle of spilled paint. "Nice bunny hop you've got going there." Seth raises an eyebrow, seeing her obscene gesture. "And lovely finger Summer. You're just brimming with encouragement."

"Shove it Cohen; there's no way I'm ruining these shoes." She once again bounces over the paint.

Seth doesn't even try to stop the spreading grin. "Then just stop spilling things."

She snorts, bending down to cover the spot with old newspapers. "I'm not the one who smelled like spoiled dairy for tripping over his shoelaces." 

He sighs and enters their English class walking over to help. "If everyone could just forget that one incid- Hey! You tripped me that day!"

Summer pauses, the memory finally registered. "Oh yeah, fine, I'll just have to remember anothe-"

"No," Seth shakes his head purposely. "I think one is enough for today." They quietly take turns going to the bathroom for wet towels when Seth baits, "You remembered an incident involving me. That's got to tell you something."

"It tells me that I'm nowhere near Alzheimer's. So if you would like to be thanked for that..."

"It means that you have retained a section just for me."

Her face is hidden behind a curtain of hair, eternally growing annoyed at the reminder that he matters. "Lucky you, you've been remembered as a klutzy loser. I'll alert the paparazzi." She immediately bites her bottom lip, too harsh.

His hand stops; the insult wouldn't have stung, if she hadn't held such a tone of conviction.  They quickly retreat into the silence and Seth stands once the spilled paint is barely visible. Without a trace of emotion, "Well, this was fun. We should do it again sometime. Oh, that's right; I'm due for another session tomorrow." He starts to backing out of the room. "Until the-"

"I'm sorry," Summer's voice is quiet, composed. "It wasn't supposed to come out like that."

He has to lean forward to hear her, but becomes instantly pleased. "Just so you know, apologies are supposed to be heard."

"I don't have much to apologize for."

"How you say that with a straight face, I will never know." Seth grins as Summer sticks out her tongue. "Very mature."

Summer rolls her eyes. "Pick up a brush Cohen," She sits back down delicately dipping her own brush into the plastic bowl, coming up with yellow. "I could've been done by now."

He comes in view with the sign and sees part of the first letter, 'N' painted. "Yeah, because you are so far along." Seth drops down beside her, and follows her command. He fills in the following letter. "Why are we doing this again?"

"Honors society; I'm missing hours."

"You see, other people would baby-sit, pick up trash, feed the homeless…" He trails off, knowing there would be a rebuttal.

"So I'm not great with children, sue me." She starts to doodle, slightly veering out of the lines.

"Really, well children seem to adore me."

"How un-ironic since you act like you're seven."

"Well, y- well," Seth stutters for a bit. "Fine, but I'm rubber and you're glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you."

"Thanks for proving my point." Her head is bent, concentrating on the letter.

They work completely at ease, and not one insult is heard… only because no one is talking, not wanting to interrupt the silent manner.  

Seth takes a halfhearted swipe already bored with the painting. His brush runs into Summer's hand and whining, she says, "That was on purpose!" She retaliates, painting a yellow strip down the right side of Seth's face.

Seth's mouth drops in amazement, "Oh no, you didn't just d-" He stops as Summer pokes his face again, now going for the forehead.

She giggles when he turns, revealing her work. "You've never looked better."

"I'm nothing compared to how you're going to shine." He sticks out his brush, dripping with black paint.

She starts to shake her head. "You wouldn't dare."

"Fine," Seth lowers his paintbrush and relief fills her body… for a total of three seconds.

"That's it, it's on now." Summer stands up, grabbing the whole bottle of yellow paint. He quickly does the same and steps back, expanding the space between them.

Summer closes her eyes as she squirts, keeping black paint from entering her eyes. The occasional scream or squeal is heard as the two run around the room, emptying the contents in their choice weapons on each other. A few minutes later, they are both panting, Seth sprained on the floor. Wheezing out a "Truce!" he tosses his vacant bottle into the air. Quietly, he hears the tapping of Summer's precious shoes as she suddenly appears, standing above him. His eyes widen when she willingly tips the yellow paint out, splattering him in the process. Her smile widens and a "Truce" is heard as the bottle clangs to the floor. 

"Ahh!" Abruptly, Summer is partly on him and the floor after he grabs her waist. "You are dead… as soon as I can get up." Neither of them tries for the time being and they lie there, hearing only each other's breathing.

Seth's hands are still on Summer's waist and she slowly twists around to face him, not wanting for him to let go. He seems to understand and only stares as she settles into place. Seth's throat is suddenly dry, anticipation giving him the urge to lean in a little closer. And he gives in, as he always does. 

Feeling him coming closer, she closes her eyes, lips parted…

And then he's gone, hands dropped from her waist, clearing his throat, covering the awkwardness. She lowers her eyes, collecting herself, reassuring herself that she's okay, happy. Happy for reasons she won't admit to anyone else. Summer won't end up the one hurting him… it might just be the other way around. Her vision to the ground, she sees her dress, shoes, outlined in black.

Sitting up, amazed with his restraint Seth sees Summer's shoulders shaking. "Hey," he gently rubs her back. "Paint's bound to come out."

Trying to hide convulsed laughter, she finally looks up, and loses it again. "I look like the crypt keeper!" Her frank laughter is astounding and Seth once again takes up the habit of staring.

"Well if it's any consolation, you're the cutest crypt keeper I've seen." Or anything else for that matter.

Between peals of various outbursts, "You really warm the heart Seth."

He points out, "You're still laughing, must have done something." Now forcing herself to frown, she can't keep it up, making the mistake of glancing over. Seth is literally plastered with the yellow and reminds her of something instep with Easter and eggs.

"Let's just get back to work…" The work currently spoken of is by no means better off than the two of them. Groaning she scrambles to the teacher's desk, coming up triumphant while holding a pair of scissors. "We have to cut out the letters and paste them onto another sheet."

Laziness has kicked in again and Seth searches for a quick exit equipped with a lame excuse. "Well, look at the time… it's almost… four," he finishes, deadpanned.

"Sit, Cohen." Direct command, how could he resist?

And he can't. Seth noisily sits beside her before picking up the second pair of scissors.

*

He reaches over, rubbing the wet brush over a particularly dark spot on her arm.

Violently she pulls away, unintentionally smearing the paint, piling on a second layer. "What are you doing now?"

"There's a missing spot that I thought I should paint over. And you are paint." He fights the ever present smile, forcing a straight face. Briskly nodding she's already jabbed a dry paintbrush at his arm before he can flinch out of the way. "Hey, you didn't even get any paint!"

Pretending to thoroughly inspect the tip, she offers a suggestion. "You're right. I think I should try again."

This time Seth dodges her outstretched arm while mirroring her movement and tries for the face.

Ironically- for her- laughter echoes through the room, gaining volume as the two advance in their revenge. Everything seems too good. Nothing exists but half hearted swipes and the dizzying sensation of simple happiness, drenched in an empty English class. The attempts to make the other swallow paint become more lethargic as time passes but the blissful mood remains, wishing to linger.

*

"Finally! We're done." She presses her finger over the last letter on the paper, smoothing it down enough to stick.

"Gee, it only took-" Seth pauses to peer at his watch, "three hours."

"At least we're done." Summer lays the banner on several desks, setting to dry. Picking up her purse, she says "Thanks Seth," and saunters out of the room.

Hurriedly, he shoves his bag over his shoulder and runs to catch up to her. "Aren't we supposed to clean something? Like the entire room?"

She bypasses his statement, never one to enjoy cleaning. "He'll deal with it."

 Unsurprising, Seth moves on. "Okay, so how about a ride?"

"I think the skateboard under your arm is meant for something." Digging for her keys now, waiting for an idiotic response. 

"But a car is much faster in the speed department." Laying his hand on her arm, Summer finally turns to face him. "We're friends right?" He emphasizes on the word friends, causing it to mean all the things he wishes they were instead.

So now she's a taxi cab. "Fine," Summer answers realizing she isn't one to enjoy being in another's favor. There's no sign of her knowing his silent innuendos.

"Really…" Suspicion leads Seth to trances of Summer, waiting for the precise moment- when he's halfway in the car- to drive off.

"Did I stutter?" He's pushed through the school entrance, letting her pass by first.

"I think you're supposed to actually stutter while saying that." He's amused; she's the first person to screw an insult whilst 'causing the other person to doubt instead of the other way around.

"Does it matter?" What Summer says… goes. "You need a ride or not," she asks, reaching her car.  

 Already standing expectedly by the passenger door, Seth's waiting for the lock to pop. "I promise if I find one tiny, iridescent spot of paint on my interior, I'll…" Her eyes dart to the skateboard. "I'll paint your skateboard…" She pauses for the full effect, "pink."

"Am I not enough of an outcast already?" Displaying a tinge of pseudo disappointment, his mouth is shocked. "You want me killed don't you?"

She shrugs, "Death is inevitable."

"Doesn't mean you have to try and hurry it along." The door's now open and he hesitantly steps in, opting to place a book on the seat than to sit on it directly. He's quite afraid; sure that Summer could follow through with certain promises.

She laughs when getting in, seeing Seth cramped, head poking at the windshield. Her amusement doesn't go unnoticed as he turns to scorn her, causing her to almost fall out of her chair. "Your glare could use some work."

"That's just 'cause I'm so lovable," he automatically replies, grimacing while reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

Her face softens slightly, "I wasn't serious… well I was, but you don't need to go to extremes."

Seth shakes his head, a motion that doesn't veer far to the right for fear of the door. "This is extremely comfortable."

Rolling her eyes she leans over to pull the book from under him and he grunts as his butt hits the seat. "Fine, but it can't be my fault anymore."

"Oh it still is, that doesn't change."

"Hand me back the book then." He raises his eyebrows expectedly, palm out, waiting to sink under the book's weight.

Starting the car, Summer tosses the book behind her, letting it hit the backseat before it promptly falls to the floor. "Go get it."

He turns out of his seat, keeping up with the charade, "Love to."

Finally backing down, Summer presses her hand against his shoulder, commanding, "Just sit back."

Making himself comfortable, he stretches his legs as far as they can go and places his hands behind his head. "Well alrighty then."

"I highly doubt that position's comfortable."

"It isn't. It just makes a point." He sits up again, gripping the window's edge as Summer "drives" out of the parking lot. "Are you trying to fly?"

"What? Is that a complaint I hear?" Whipping her head to look at him she points to the door. "There's your exit."

Seth's arms instantly rise above his head, surrendering. "Just put your hand on the wheel." Closing his eyes, his face crumples and Summer hears, "Please, not yet, not yet, please, I'm not ready to die."

 Ignoring his pleas to be saved, she speeds around another corner.

*

"Thanks for the two-handed driving," Seth says resulting in his textbook hurled at him. Quickly sticking his head back in he continues, "And so friendly too."

"Move your head before I fly, Cohen." One last grin and he steps back heading into his house.

Her eyes stay on his diminishing figure before the focus suddenly comes back and she blinks, the thoughts fading, her mind firmly facing reality. Hand on the steering wheel; she sees a rather appalling glob of paint near the bottom of the passenger seat. Leaning over for a closer look, she finds a Dashboard Confessional's- apparently- c.d. lies next to it.

Seth quickly backtracks to the door, his c.d. nowhere to be found. About to step outside, he pauses, glancing out the front door to see Summer bending over the passenger's side, coming up with what appeared to be the c.d. He grins, seeing her tentatively loading it onto her stereo, almost afraid that she might like it. 

Breathe in for luck,
breathe in so deep,
this air is blessed,
you share with me.

Deeming it bearable, the volume escalates as she drives off.

My hopes are so high,
that your kiss might kill me.
So won't you kill me,
so I die happy.