Ryan doesn't sleep. He doesn't undress. He sits in the darkened pool house thinking about the night's events. He had a great time with Marissa, and until the phone call from Seth, the night was almost perfect. Ryan thought he was doing the right thing. He remembers the last time he was in a situation when a gun was involved. He glances down at his abdomen at the scar. No one jumped the shooter that day, several people attempted to calm the guy but in the end, he snapped and starting taking shots at everyone in the room. Two people died and Ryan made it out with a bullet in the side. He doesn't regret jumping Donnie and wrestling for the gun. If he hadn't, things could have gotten out of hand. Things were out of hand anyway. When he walked in, he didn't know what was going on except he could sense Seth's panic, Luke's anger and Donnie's dangerous anxiety.
Ryan clenches his fists, trying to release some of the building tension in his body. He'd go for a walk, but Mr. Cohen might think that he is running off again.
He tried to run away. He doesn't want to disappoint the Cohens, but it seems like he already has. Seth, the one Cohen that he thought would understand his need to diffuse the situation, seems to partially blame him. He knows that once Marissa talks to Luke, she will probably blame him, too.
Ryan takes a deep breath. He clears his mind of all that and reminds himself that he has no control over what the Cohens think. He knows that he did what he had to do. He swore when he held his friend's dying body, that he wouldn't let anybody pull a gun on him again, no matter what the consequences.
He puts his head in his hands. He doesn't want to remember, but he has to. He has to remind himself why he acted the way he did tonight.
Ryan was only thirteen years old and he was hanging out at Trey's friend's house in Chino. The house was a dump, basically a crack house without the crack. There were kids aging from eight to twenty, skipping school and getting high. Trey hung out there because it was a safe place to sell the drugs that provided him with income that he wasn't getting from his mother. Ryan was there to hang out with Trey and avoid the damaging hands of his mother's latest boyfriend. Ryan's close friend, Art, was with him. They were in the corner, sitting on milk crates and studying a comic book that Art had stolen earlier.
Ryan barely glanced up when the teenager stormed in with the gun. He was used to seeing weapons and considering his brother's occupation, they were often needed to ensure payment.
"Where's Terry?" The teenager had demanded. "Where the fuck is Terry?"
"Haven't seen him," A random guy had responded after a beat.
"Fucking 'A!" The teen yelled. He fired his gun and blasted a hole in the ceiling.
"Whoa, what the fuck is your problem? There are kids in here!" Trey had yelled. Ryan and Art froze in their spots, a couple of the younger kids made their way to their side. Ryan and Art had a reputation among the younger kids as protectors. Ryan had gently pushed a couple of the kids behind him, making sure that they were low to the ground.
"I want my goddamn money. Now somebody tell me where the fuck Terry is!" The kid yelled.
"Just chill, man," Another kid started. "Terry hasn't been here in a few days, nobody's seen him, man…"
"Don't talk to you like you know me! You don't know me!" The boy screamed. Ryan recognized the crazed look in his eye and gave Art a worried look.
"Dude, just chill out, we can see if somebody can find him for you," The same guy said, calm.
"No, fuck you!" The first shot was fired directly at the boy who had been trying to calm him down. The blood started to gush immediately from the gaping hole in his chest. Before anyone had a chance to react, the guy had fired four more shots.
"Shit," Art had whispered. Ryan glanced at him and saw blood already puddling around his friend's feet. The bullet had hit Art in the neck and blood was spurting out, dousing the younger kids that were huddled behind them.
Ryan immediately clenched his hands over the wound, but he knew that his friend was going to die. The blood was rushing through his fingers, covering them both. Ryan had barely registered the pain in his own body, the shock was too much for him to handle. Art was dying and the pain was spreading to Ryan.
The shooter was out of bullets and someone had knocked him down and the uninjured kids were attacking him.
"Hold on, Art, just hold on…" Ryan had murmured, watching the boy's eyes glaze over. Their blood mingled in the floor and the coppery smell almost overwhelmed him.
Art coughs and blood started to come from his mouth as Ryan realized that every time Art's heart beat, blood would gush from his neck.
"Ryan, come on, we have to get the fuck out of here," Trey appeared by his side, suddenly.
"No. I'm not leaving him."
"Ry, bring your ass on, there's nothing you can do for him," Trey had insisted, pulling at his arm.
"Fuck you, Trey, get the fuck away!" Ryan snapped. "I'm not leaving him. Get out of here!"
Trey hadn't needed convincing, he bolted with his product and money. Trey didn't even notice his brother's wound. The shooter was unconscious when the police arrived and Ryan had remained with his dead friend until the police pulled him away. With all the blood from Art's gunshot, no one realized that Ryan was hurt until the police stood him up only to have him crumple to the ground from loss of blood.
Ryan hadn't closed Art's eyes and he has never forgotten the dull, glazed expression on his dead face.
Ryan glances up for a moment and sees that it's sunrise. He hasn't slept at all, lost in his memories. He decides that since he's already in trouble, he can afford to take a walk. He grabs his cigarettes and steps outside.
"Ryan?" Seth calls.
"Hey."
"Where are you going?"
Ryan holds up his cigarettes in reply.
"You're smoking again? Did you get any sleep, Ryan?" Seth asks.
Ryan simply shrugs, walking away from him.
"Ryan, wait. Please."
"I'm not mad at you, Seth. Really. I've just got some stuff on my mind," Ryan says, turning around for a moment before continuing his walk.
"I'm going to tell Mom and Dad what happened…" Seth starts.
"Whatever. I'll be back in a little while, Seth," Ryan says, still walking away.
"Ryan…"
"I'll be back later, Seth. This isn't an emergency, I just need to get some air."
