Ryan ambled slowly down the paved driveway, his blond hair dishevelled and gorgeous, and his eyes dark with remembrance of a time not so safe, or peaceful, and silently, he thanked whatever was up there for saving him. Leaning on the stucco pillar, he lit a cigarette, and inhaled deeply, thinking, "god, I needed this," as he savoured the flavour and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"What are you doing here, freak?" Ryan held back an aggravated reply, expecting another incident with Mr. Water-Polo, Captain Ass-hole himself, Luke, Marissa's boyfriend. Taking the cigarette from his lips slowly, he heard something unexpected.

"Well, my pimp is after me 'cause I didn't turn enough tricks, and my drug money's run out, so I figured I'd come here and case the place, steal everything that wasn't nailed, down, you know, the usual." A sardonic feminine voice answered. Ryan flicked his cigarette aside and turned to watch the enfolding spectacle.

"Why don't you take your teen-angst act somewhere it can be fully appreciated?" Luke returned, towering over the diminutive form, trying to intimidate. It was obvious to the silent bystander that he was not succeeding. The girl took a step forward, forcing Luke to step back, her long brown hair swaying slightly from the movement.

"Any suggestions? Like maybe the place where this hetero-sexual façade you play is actually believable?" She threw back.
"Ouch," Ryan mumbled quietly. Luke took a step forward, raising his hand, but she stood firm, and raised her chin, ready to take the blow if it fell. Seeing what was intended, Ryan rushed forward, about to intervene when Luke's hand dropped to his side, fist clenched in a white-knuckled rage.

"You're lucky I'm dating your cousin," he snarled as he stalked off.

"I could say the same about you," The girl, Marisa's cousin replied. Ryan stood, silent and still, contemplating the turn of events, and the apparently fearless female who stood before him.

"Hi," Ryan offered, holding out his pack of smokes. "I'm Ryan," he added as an after thought.

"Tasha." She told him, throwing him a wry grin. She had pretty, soft features, and beautiful sea-green eyes, her long, dark hair reaching nearly to her waist. She waved away the pack of smokes and told him politely, "no thanks. I don't smoke."

"So you know that guy?" Ryan asked. Curiosity and caution played over his open face as he pointed his thumb at the door to the Coopers.

She nodded, "I'd rather not,"

Ryan answered with a laugh. Tasha chuckled a little too, and asked him if he'd already been formally greeted by the chairman of the Orange County Assholes welcoming committee.

He laughed ruefully, "more than once," he admitted, shaking his head.

"So where are you living?" Tasha inquired, brushing her bangs from her eyes. Ryan pointed down the driveway to the Cohen mansion, and marked how her face grew pale.

"The Cohen's moved?" She breathed, a look of utter despair encompassing her expression.

"No, no, of course not," he comforted, looking worriedly at her, "No, they took me in. They sort of adopted me," he said further, trying not to grin.

A dazzling smile lit her face, and she said, "That's really nice, and just like them too. They're such great people,"

"The best," Ryan answered gently.

"So where are you from?" Tasha asked, interested.

"Chino," He answered, expecting the same derogatory remarks that he got from everyone else, but she surprised him, yet again. He decided he liked it.

"That's cool, I've never been there. Never been a lot of places actually. Not even Disneyland, but thems the breaks,"

Ryan grinned, liking her decidedly. She wasn't like Marisa, where she seemed so fragile, so breakable, so in need of care and comfort. He could hardly have thought her to be Marisa's cousin, they were so different. This girl was funny, and she was kind. And, he noted, she seemed the type to get back on her feet and stand, no matter what. Ryan respected that, he respected it greatly. "So how about you?"

"Me? Where do I come from? Canada, actually Montreal." She specified, and seemed to be a bit distracted. "listen, Ryan, about Seth.have you seen him at all?"

Ryan turned around in a semi-circle, scanning the area, looking for his friend, and now, he supposed, his brother. "last time I saw him he was- I don't know, but he should be around, said he'd come and hang out while I had a smoke,"

"Oh," Tasha replied, her spirits somewhat dampened but cheerful nonetheless, "Do you like him?"

"Yeah. He's a good guy. I think he's the best friend I ever had, actually," he told the petit girl truthfully.

Smiling warmly, her reply was cut off.

"Hey, Ryan! Sorry buddy-"the patter of feet on concrete went quiet, and Tasha's gaze was fixed above his shoulder.

A soft, yearning question broke the pregnant silence "Tasha?"