"There's a myth here." Summer spoke quietly. "Here in Newport, there's an
assumption that there's no such thing as a happy childhood. All of the
therapists, all of self-help gurus, all of the life coaches - they
anticipate this; they have readied themselves for complaints about those
lost formative years. But mine was happy." She looked up, past Seth, and
her brown eyes drifted to the windows near her bed.
"You hadn't moved here yet, so you didn't know me before. I used to be different then, back when my father was home and my mother was here on earth. My dad would come home every night just in time for dinner. I remember my mother cooking, helping her to set the table, making out life into a Norman Rockwell painting." A faraway look passed over her eyes, and Seth recognized that she wasn't there anymore. She had become mired in memories, and Seth listened, trying to learn all he could.
"But it wasn't forced." Summer looked down at her hands and then tilted her face up to meet Seth's eyes. He saw himself reflected in their glassy depths, and he moved toward her and sat beside her. "We were happy."
She took a deep breath. "You asked me about the study. Back then, I spent time alone with each of my parents, and they taught me about the things that they loved. For my father, it was his job. He was lucky to love something that provided this kind of lifestyle, and I know everyone thinks he works in finance for the money - maybe he does now. But then - oh, then he loved it." She smiled, delving into memories that she'd kept buried for so long. "He bought me this little cash register - here." She stood and took Seth's hand and let him into the study. She lifted a blue box from the top of a shelf and set it on the floor as Seth kneeled beside her. Her arms trembled as she raised the antique toy out of the box and touched it reverently, with each stroke of the tiny numbered keys a memory of another life.
"Ever since my mother," Summer swallowed, "I know that things have changed. But when I come in here and I read about stocks and mergers and investments, I feel like I'm making him proud, that I'm beginning to shape my mind into something that will allow me to understand him. There has to be an equation, a theory, a strategy somewhere in these books." Her voice broke as she scooped the books into her hands, clutching them. "Somewhere there has to be a reason why he abandoned me." She couldn't hold it in anymore, and the books tumbled out of her hands and crashed against the floor as Seth leapt up. He enveloped Summer in his hands and she clung to him, exposed and vulnerable like she had never been before as all the memories, all the disappointment, all the fear and longing rushed through her and she finally let go as Seth stroked her hair.
After a moment her crying subsided and she looked up at him. Most boys his age would have run by now, but Seth stood steadily by her. His face was gentle and open, and as she looked at him she felt her body tingling, alive and free and light. "Summer." Seth moved toward the girl he had known for years and caught both her hands in his. "I'm here."
She smiled. "I know." She ran her small fingers over his hands, marveling at the small sensations that touching him sparked within her. She led him over to the desk.
"My mother was a writer, did you know that?" Seth shook his head slowly. "She wasn't published or anything," Summer explained, "but I always thought that she was the most talented writer in all the world. She used to write in her journal every night - not just what had happened that day, but poems and stories. Sometimes she would read them to me. After she was gone, I looked everywhere for them, but I never found them. Maybe that's a good thing. Now, when I read through her favorite books, and all the new ones I've discovered, I find that certain lines reach out from the page, as though she's highlighting them for me as something she would have written."
"And that's it." Summer's voice broke as she looked up at Seth again, suddenly exhausted. "That's the explanation for the study and the two halves reflected here. Sometimes I think it's romantic, you know?" She shrugged and gave him half of a smile. "They each had something that they loved and taught that something to me. And now, if I can learn how to master both their passions, I can achieve the dreams of two people."
"But what about these dreams?" Seth carefully folded his hand over Summer's heart. "I think that no matter what you choose to do, you'll make both your parents proud simply by being this girl that I love."
"What?" Summer's breath caught.
"Oh, no, I mean, not that I don't mean it, but I don't want to scare you and I didn't mean to say it, I know that Seventeen magazine would say it's too early, I mean, until twenty-four hours ago, we were friends at best. And all this now, I just mean that, I mean that I finally understand all the walls, why you're so reluctant to let anyone in and the fact that now you've opened the gate and it's me, wow, it's incredible and it feels so good and I just want you to understand that I'll never betray you." He caught her in his arms and smoothed her hair. As he leaned in, he spoke slowly. "You don't have to say it back Summer, in fact, I'd rather you wait until you're sure. I just want you to know that I'm here. And I always will be."
He kissed her softly. Their lips moved together and parted as their tongues touched hesitantly, and then more assuredly as their confident grew and desire overcame their inhibitions. She pulled him down towards her and their knees bent as they fell to the floor, his arms forming a cushion around her. She reached up under his shirt, her hands traveling over his skin, burning into him. He kissed a path down her neck as a moan escaped from her throat while he traced circles around her pearl necklace. Their kissing had an urgency he'd never experienced before, as though she couldn't get enough of him. And he - oh, he wanted her now more than he ever had before, which was saying a lot. But Seth forced himself to pull back for a moment and he lifted her into his arms. He scooped her up with one arm under her knees and another around her back like a groom would carry a bride as they crossed the threshold on their wedding night. He smiled at her, damning himself for his sentimentality, because in her creamy chiffon dress, she could have been a bride, his bride. He felt like the luckiest person on earth as she let him hold her, looking into his eyes as though she could read his admittedly corny thoughts and as though she silently agreed, acquiescing that she was thinking the same foolish thing.
He laid her gently on her bed before bending down to kiss her again, a deep kiss that promised more. "I have to go," he regretted. "My parents are coming home soon and I have to make sure that the house is presentable. And you-" he smiled and planted a quick kiss on Summer's lips as she began to protest, "You should sleep. But I'll see you in the morning - can I take you out for breakfast? Maybe a repeat of our perfectly synchronized Tijuana breakfast, but without the threats of a rage blackout, eh?"
Summer sat up. "Hey there, you asked for it," her voice lilted. "Besides, I was just mad that you hadn't tried to make a move on me after that kiss at your grandpa's party."
Seth puffed out his chest. "Well," he spoke in a faux-deep manly-man voice, "I am quite the lady killer."
They kissed again.
"See you tomorrow sugar," Summer whispered as their lips parted.
"Tomorrow," Seth promised, and he moved to the door as Summer watched him. "And Sum?" He turned. "Thank you."
She knew he was thanking her for sharing everything with him, and she smiled as new, happy tears welled in her eyes, a physical manifestation of her overflowing emotions.
"Anytime." She lifted her hand as he blew her a kiss.
After the door closed behind him, she breathed deeply and settled back among the pillows. She liked this new Summer, the one who wasn't frightened to reach out to Seth Cohen. It's 2004, she thought as her eyes flickered close as she slipped into sleep. It's 2004, and I'm not afraid anymore.
"You hadn't moved here yet, so you didn't know me before. I used to be different then, back when my father was home and my mother was here on earth. My dad would come home every night just in time for dinner. I remember my mother cooking, helping her to set the table, making out life into a Norman Rockwell painting." A faraway look passed over her eyes, and Seth recognized that she wasn't there anymore. She had become mired in memories, and Seth listened, trying to learn all he could.
"But it wasn't forced." Summer looked down at her hands and then tilted her face up to meet Seth's eyes. He saw himself reflected in their glassy depths, and he moved toward her and sat beside her. "We were happy."
She took a deep breath. "You asked me about the study. Back then, I spent time alone with each of my parents, and they taught me about the things that they loved. For my father, it was his job. He was lucky to love something that provided this kind of lifestyle, and I know everyone thinks he works in finance for the money - maybe he does now. But then - oh, then he loved it." She smiled, delving into memories that she'd kept buried for so long. "He bought me this little cash register - here." She stood and took Seth's hand and let him into the study. She lifted a blue box from the top of a shelf and set it on the floor as Seth kneeled beside her. Her arms trembled as she raised the antique toy out of the box and touched it reverently, with each stroke of the tiny numbered keys a memory of another life.
"Ever since my mother," Summer swallowed, "I know that things have changed. But when I come in here and I read about stocks and mergers and investments, I feel like I'm making him proud, that I'm beginning to shape my mind into something that will allow me to understand him. There has to be an equation, a theory, a strategy somewhere in these books." Her voice broke as she scooped the books into her hands, clutching them. "Somewhere there has to be a reason why he abandoned me." She couldn't hold it in anymore, and the books tumbled out of her hands and crashed against the floor as Seth leapt up. He enveloped Summer in his hands and she clung to him, exposed and vulnerable like she had never been before as all the memories, all the disappointment, all the fear and longing rushed through her and she finally let go as Seth stroked her hair.
After a moment her crying subsided and she looked up at him. Most boys his age would have run by now, but Seth stood steadily by her. His face was gentle and open, and as she looked at him she felt her body tingling, alive and free and light. "Summer." Seth moved toward the girl he had known for years and caught both her hands in his. "I'm here."
She smiled. "I know." She ran her small fingers over his hands, marveling at the small sensations that touching him sparked within her. She led him over to the desk.
"My mother was a writer, did you know that?" Seth shook his head slowly. "She wasn't published or anything," Summer explained, "but I always thought that she was the most talented writer in all the world. She used to write in her journal every night - not just what had happened that day, but poems and stories. Sometimes she would read them to me. After she was gone, I looked everywhere for them, but I never found them. Maybe that's a good thing. Now, when I read through her favorite books, and all the new ones I've discovered, I find that certain lines reach out from the page, as though she's highlighting them for me as something she would have written."
"And that's it." Summer's voice broke as she looked up at Seth again, suddenly exhausted. "That's the explanation for the study and the two halves reflected here. Sometimes I think it's romantic, you know?" She shrugged and gave him half of a smile. "They each had something that they loved and taught that something to me. And now, if I can learn how to master both their passions, I can achieve the dreams of two people."
"But what about these dreams?" Seth carefully folded his hand over Summer's heart. "I think that no matter what you choose to do, you'll make both your parents proud simply by being this girl that I love."
"What?" Summer's breath caught.
"Oh, no, I mean, not that I don't mean it, but I don't want to scare you and I didn't mean to say it, I know that Seventeen magazine would say it's too early, I mean, until twenty-four hours ago, we were friends at best. And all this now, I just mean that, I mean that I finally understand all the walls, why you're so reluctant to let anyone in and the fact that now you've opened the gate and it's me, wow, it's incredible and it feels so good and I just want you to understand that I'll never betray you." He caught her in his arms and smoothed her hair. As he leaned in, he spoke slowly. "You don't have to say it back Summer, in fact, I'd rather you wait until you're sure. I just want you to know that I'm here. And I always will be."
He kissed her softly. Their lips moved together and parted as their tongues touched hesitantly, and then more assuredly as their confident grew and desire overcame their inhibitions. She pulled him down towards her and their knees bent as they fell to the floor, his arms forming a cushion around her. She reached up under his shirt, her hands traveling over his skin, burning into him. He kissed a path down her neck as a moan escaped from her throat while he traced circles around her pearl necklace. Their kissing had an urgency he'd never experienced before, as though she couldn't get enough of him. And he - oh, he wanted her now more than he ever had before, which was saying a lot. But Seth forced himself to pull back for a moment and he lifted her into his arms. He scooped her up with one arm under her knees and another around her back like a groom would carry a bride as they crossed the threshold on their wedding night. He smiled at her, damning himself for his sentimentality, because in her creamy chiffon dress, she could have been a bride, his bride. He felt like the luckiest person on earth as she let him hold her, looking into his eyes as though she could read his admittedly corny thoughts and as though she silently agreed, acquiescing that she was thinking the same foolish thing.
He laid her gently on her bed before bending down to kiss her again, a deep kiss that promised more. "I have to go," he regretted. "My parents are coming home soon and I have to make sure that the house is presentable. And you-" he smiled and planted a quick kiss on Summer's lips as she began to protest, "You should sleep. But I'll see you in the morning - can I take you out for breakfast? Maybe a repeat of our perfectly synchronized Tijuana breakfast, but without the threats of a rage blackout, eh?"
Summer sat up. "Hey there, you asked for it," her voice lilted. "Besides, I was just mad that you hadn't tried to make a move on me after that kiss at your grandpa's party."
Seth puffed out his chest. "Well," he spoke in a faux-deep manly-man voice, "I am quite the lady killer."
They kissed again.
"See you tomorrow sugar," Summer whispered as their lips parted.
"Tomorrow," Seth promised, and he moved to the door as Summer watched him. "And Sum?" He turned. "Thank you."
She knew he was thanking her for sharing everything with him, and she smiled as new, happy tears welled in her eyes, a physical manifestation of her overflowing emotions.
"Anytime." She lifted her hand as he blew her a kiss.
After the door closed behind him, she breathed deeply and settled back among the pillows. She liked this new Summer, the one who wasn't frightened to reach out to Seth Cohen. It's 2004, she thought as her eyes flickered close as she slipped into sleep. It's 2004, and I'm not afraid anymore.