Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Still holds true. Especially the part about Summer.

A/N: Well, this one took a while to come together, but I think it's better. Still trying to feel my way through the execution of the idea, but I hope it passes muster. As always, critiques/reviews are humbly accepted.

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From a distance, it would be hard to tell that the two young people sitting in the booth at California Pizza Kitchen knew each other at all: the boy slowly eating his BLT pizza, glancing occasionally across the table at the girl who hadn't looked up since they sat down, idly pushing the contents of her half White Balsamic Provencal salad around her plate with a fork. Neither had spoken since the waiter asked them for their orders. While the rest of the establishment hummed with activity, that one booth appeared stuck in a freeze-frame.

Ryan broke the silence, "So can I assume that you weren't running away from a pop quiz?"

Anna said nothing, only closed her eyes and sank back in her seat. Another thirty seconds elapsed before he spoke again.

"Look, Anna, I'm sorry…I feel like this is somehow my fault, in a way…"

"It's not," she piped up quietly, her throat rough and scratchy.

"No, if I…if I hadn't pushed you back at the carnival, maybe things with you two would have worked themselves out over time. You were probably right then to leave it the way it was…"

"Ryan, it's not your fault," she said. Glancing across the table under heavy eyelids, she looked at Ryan, who was staring down at his plate. She swallowed slowly, clearing her throat before sitting forward and taking a forkful of the salad into her mouth.

Another long pause ensued, the two eating at an unhurried pace. Ryan, of all people, understood that sometimes people just needed to be left alone and allowed to speak when they were ready.

"They just looked so…perfect," she said abruptly. "It's as if …I wasn't even there…like I meant absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of this whole thing. I mean, we were hardly broken up for a day and they were walking around like the perfect fucking couple…"

Ryan looked up, cast his gaze over at Anna…she had stopped eating, was simply staring at a spot above her plate: he could see the tears rolling down her cheek. Pursing his lips together, he simply watched her, unsure of what he could say.

Anna could feel him looking, but refused to look up while she was crying…slowly reaching for a napkin and wiping gently around her eyes, she sighed deeply before continuing, "I guess it's no big deal now…if I talk to my parents tonight, I could probably be at Pacific or somewhere else in a week."

"Hmmm," was Ryan's only response. He slowly shifted in his seat, measuring his words before speaking, "Are you sure that's what you should do?"

"What am I supposed to do, Ryan? Come to school every day with a blindfold on, or subject myself to emotional torture every time I see them around campus? There's nothing left for me at Harbor!" her voice beginning to rise.

He kept his tone soft as he answered, "I mean…all I'm saying is that you can't go through life running from these sorts of things. I know this has to be ripping you apart inside, but quitting the situation isn't the answer."

Anna spat back, "Well you still have your best friend. The only person I cared about is now off with his dream girl, completely unconcerned with how I feel…how am I supposed to deal with that? What do you expect me to do, hang out with all those whiny little drama queens like Marissa? Those attention-craving airheads, the brain-dead party girls who define themselves by how many guys they can hook up with, the ones that think the entire fucking world revolves around getting the new Prada clutch? I can't…" she stammered as her mind finally caught up with her mouth, realizing what she had just said. A gasp escaped her lips before she brought her hand to her mouth and felt shame running through her body.  She glanced up at Ryan, found his eyes closed, his face cold, expressionless.

"Oh my god, Ryan…I'm, so sorry…I didn't…I was just…" Anna struggled to find the words, feeling the tears reemerging in her eyes. She sat back against the seat and hung her head, astounded at her completely uncaring rant.

His voice was calm as he spoke, "It's alright, Anna."

"No it's not," she whispered hoarsely. "That was inconceivably inconsiderate of me…not only did I just disparage your girlfriend after you've done nothing but try to make me feel better, I've also completely neglected to even ask you how you've been doing…here I am, losing it over some boy, when you went face-to-face with a gun-wielding psychotic. God, I can't believe how selfish you must think…"

"Anna, it's ok. I can imagine how upset you are, and I know what it's like to have to just vent it out…well, I normally just end up hitting people, but you get the idea," he said softly.

She chuckled nervously, pressing her hand to her eyes trying to brush back the tears before looking up again: this time she was met by Ryan's gaze back at her, that deep, penetrating look he had clearly been practicing…or maybe it was just a gift, because it would take inordinate amounts of practice to perfect that, mesmerizing, as if he was probing your soul through your eyes…Um, honey, not to interrupt, but you're staring, Anna's mind quietly mentioned. She shook her head quickly and looked away, feeling slightly embarrassed.

After a few heavy moments, the two resumed their meal, and eventually began conversing, just catching up on what each other had been doing. Anna was a little surprised at how much Ryan talked, given his legendary reticence: he told her about the aftermath of the penthouse ordeal, how he and Marissa were on the rocks, even mentioned his friend Theresa from back in Chino. She didn't ask many questions as he spoke, knowing through Seth how Ryan would pretty much automatically shut down when the Cohens tried to pry things out of him. Picking her way through the salad, she found herself drawn into watching Ryan eat…the way he used a knife and fork with his pizza, the flash of his teeth when he took a bite, the momentary pause where he always left the fork in between his lips before taking it out. She actually had to blink and regroup as Ryan asked her the occasional question.

They finished and paid for their food, and Ryan went for the car as she washed up. When she slipped into the silver BMW her parents had passed down to her when they got the newer model, Ryan spoke up, "So I'm guessing you want to go home?"

She sighed and nodded, before snapping back to attention, "What am I talking about, you have to go back to Harbor…let's just go back, if I don't feel up to it I'll just leave from there."

"Ah, forget it, I only had study hall after lunch, no big deal," was his response.

Anna shrugged, letting Ryan drive as he had on the way there. The ride was fairly quiet, Ryan focusing on the road, Anna staring vacantly out the passenger window; the only dialogue was how to get to her house. They pulled up into the driveway in about ten minutes, and Ryan walked her to the front door.

As she opened the door, she heard his voice behind her, "So listen, I know the decision is yours and all, but…I hope you decide not to leave."

Anna felt a bit of a blush creep over her cheeks as she stood there, took a deep breath and turned around to face him. Fighting the urge to look into his eyes, she instead stared at her feet as she cleared her throat and spoke, "Thank you, Ryan…for everything…it meant a lot." Suddenly she took a step forward and hugged him tightly, standing on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. She felt him return the embrace gently, his hand patting on her shoulder softly…after what seemed like an eternity, she realized that she was still holding him and stepped back, inhaling softly. She walked into her door before looking back out with a gasp.

"Oh my god, Ryan, how are you getting back to your house? Let me give you a lift," she said.

He gave her a little half-smile as he said, "No big deal. It's probably about a half-hour walk, forty-five minutes…I could use the time."

Anna leaned against the doorframe as she watched him turn and sling his bag over his shoulder while shuffling down the walkway. He turned around and look back, and she gave him a little wave before closing the door.

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She could feel his fingertips gliding along her hips, the slightly coarse texture sending shivers through her as he reached under her shirt and caressed her smooth skin…could feel him pressing her back against the nearest wall, her hips arching to meet his, desperate for contact with his body… could hear him whispering throatily into her ear as he opened her shirt, her legs straddling his thigh and grinding down…could feel her arms wrapped up under his and her hands gripped at his muscular shoulders, trying to pull him closer…could taste the sweat on his skin as she leaned in and sucked at his neck, the heat driving her wild…could hear the moaning, the panting, the cursing, the screaming, the gasping…could see the crystal-blue eyes locked into hers…

Anna jolted up into a seated position, frantically looking around her, disoriented by the dark: slowly she grasped that she was in her room, in her bed. She looked down to her hands and found them gripping the sheets so tightly her knuckles were turning white. Blinking rapidly, she forced herself to open her fingers and willed herself out of the bed; once her feet hit the floor, she hustled into the bathroom adjoined to her bedroom, flicking the light switch as she stood before the vanity mirror. What she saw stunned her: her face flushed down to the neck, sweat glistening on her skin, pupils glassy and dilated…as she breathed heavily, her mind made the connection and realization dawned on her. She turned the faucet and lowered her head, splashing freezing water over her face briskly before looking back into the mirror. Holy shit, her mind whispered…

You are in a world of trouble now, girl.