Disclaimer: I own nothing.

One Step Forward

Seth

-The Notorious Cohen Conflict Avoidance -

"Bring a little booty in the form of Princess Sparkle, for Captain Oats. He's looking for a good mount, if you know what I mean."

I feign being genuinely insulted when she calls my beloved plastic horse a pimp, but I can't help but laugh out loud before I hang up.

I scan my room before backing out, ensuring that nothing incriminating will be scattering the floor when Summer arrives. She has enough to harass me about as it is, the last thing I need is to add fuel to the fire.

I dance my way down the stairs, catching a quick look at my hair as I pass by the mirror in the hall. I glance at my watch as I walk into the kitchen - it's too early for dinner, but Summer won't be here for another hour or so, so I need to entertain myself for the time being.

I consider making my way out to the pool house to ask Ryan if he's interested in a spirited battle of Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 4 - a battle that he has yet to win - but a quick glance out the window shows that my parents are having another heated discussion on the patio and I just don't want any part of it. Besides, Ryan was less than sociable on the way home, so maybe he needs some 'brooding-alone' time. Perhaps the constant 'Marissa-dodging' is starting to get to him.

Grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge, I make my way over to the television to prepare for my grand, Play Station battle. Looking up, I'm quite surprised to see Ryan passed out on the couch. I glance around behind me, as if sending questioning vibes to my parents, who are too involved in their battle to listen.

I shrug, Ryan looks completely gone. I mean, I certainly wasn't quiet coming down the stairs and the guy's not even close to consciousness. I tiptoe over to the entertainment unit and pull out the PS2 while turning the television on and immediately muting the volume. I lean back against the table behind me and within seconds, I'm deeply engrossed in my own imaginary world of athletic prowess.

***************

"Seth, couldn't you have found somewhere else to kill your time?" the whispered question pulls me out of my gaming trance, and I glance over my right shoulder to see my parents making their way through the patio door.

"What? I'm being quiet. Besides, he's long gone."

Despite what I thought was substantial justification for my actions, both parents are still shooting accusing glares in my direction.

"If he wanted to be undisturbed, he could have gone to sleep in his room instead of a high traffic area such as this."

The looks continue and I toss my controller on the ground, raising my hands in exasperation.

I have no idea what their problem is. If they are that concerned about him, why don't they just carry him into the pool house and rock him to sleep? It kind of makes me wonder why they are always tiptoeing around Ryan - so to speak. I'm sure that if it were me in such a situation, Mom would have dragged me to my room long ago, shoving various flavors of disgusting syrups down my throat while trying desperately to read a non-digital thermometer - a feat she has yet to accomplished unassisted.

I'm certainly not going to be the one to wake him because, let's face it, I need a left hook to the jaw like I need a hole in the head. Not that I'm sure Ryan would hit me, but the possibility lingers and that alone, is enough for me. The notorious-Cohen-conflict-avoidance gene guides me through the majority of my decision making processes.

Eventually, they tear their eyes away from me and resume the 'stare-of-death' on each other. I have no idea what the hell's been causing them to argue so much lately, but it's so childish and frustrating, and sometimes I just want to tell them to shut-up - in no uncertain terms.

I know that their marriage isn't in trouble because honestly, if a marriage breaks up over arguments regarding Dad's lead-foot or Mom's unhealthy obsession with shoes, they both deserve to be committed anyway. I know they're still in love - when they aren't fighting, they are repulsively all over each other.

So, I just ignore it and go about my business. It'll pass, it always does.

It's obvious that it bugs Ryan. I pretend not to notice because he tries so hard to hide it - which undoubtedly means he doesn't want to talk about it. It doesn't take a brain surgeon to recognize that talking isn't necessarily his strong suit - but I guess that Mom and Dad don't see how much it bothers him. Maybe it's because they're too caught up in their own arguments to notice how uncomfortable it makes those around them; or maybe, it's just because they are used to me, and clearly, I don't give a damn. Either way, I'm sure that everything will return to normal in the near future. Like I said, it always does.

"Seth, Summer's here," Dad whispers before following my mother back out onto the patio, refreshed drinks in hand. In a couple drinks, they'll be too drunk to argue anyway.

I look up to see Rosa, escorting Summer down the hall towards me.

"You're so active, Cohen," Summer quips while throwing Princess Sparkle into my lap.

I hold off commenting, placing a finger to my lips while tilting my head towards Ryan.

"What's with Chino?" she whispers, squatting down beside me on the floor.

"I don't know. I think he's sick or something."

"Well, shouldn't he be in bed?"

"Ah, yes. That's the debate."

"He doesn't look very good…"

"Then look at me."

She smiles and grabs Princess Sparkle out of my lap, "Oh, I've got bigger plans for you, Cohen."

I toss the controller on the ground and bounce to my feet, "Summer, you sure know the way to my heart."

I take her hand, assisting her up onto her feet while grabbing Princess Sparkle out of her other hand and holding the plastic pony up at eye level, "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at the dashing bachelor that awaits you, Miss Sparkle."

"Ugh, Cohen, you are such a loser," she whispers, ripping the beast from my grasp, still managing to incorporate that famous tone of disgust despite the lack of volume.

I'm suddenly assaulted by her lips, the plastic pony digging into my chest is painful, but the benefits reaped are definitely worth the suffering. After a good minute, she pulls away, glancing over at Ryan as she wipes her mouth.

"He should really go to bed…"

I'm a little baffled by her comment; it seems heartfelt, but I'm not quite sure what to make of it. I guess it just seems so… un-Summer-like. I follow her eyes and note that Ryan does look extremely uncomfortable and I instinctively stretch my back which seems to have tensed just by witnessing his awkward posture. His left hand has changed position since I first came in, and is now draped heavily across his eyes, as if trying to block out a blinding light.

Glancing out the window to the patio, I notice that my parents seem to be enjoying each other's company for once - the magical powers of alcohol. I shake my head and sigh, following Summer as she drags me from the room.

"Speaking of bed…" I mumble.

"Don't push it, Cohen."

"Whatever you say, Summer."

TBC from Sandy's POV.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.