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A/N: Written for OCSFC ( Sentence Challenge). The only connection between the two chapters is they both deal with someone receiving an acceptance letter from Berkeley.
This chapter is about Ryan accepting a letter from Berkeley. And it's angst.
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Solstice
On his skateboard, Seth expertly sped across the road. He whizzed across the sidewalk, between moving cars, by the side of the road, not looking around him, only staring ahead, focused on his goal. He didn't see the drivers give him the finger or yell expletives at him. Or the little girl scream when the wheels of his board went across a puddle, splashing the muddy water on her. He didn't notice Jimmy wave at him or the pretty girl trip when he cut in front of her without warning. All he knew was that he had to get to the mailbox.
He normally left school with Ryan. His parents still refused to buy them a car so lately, Summer had been driving them home. He should have waited, but he couldn't - he had to get that letter from Berkeley.
He had received his the previous day. "Thick, you're in, Thin, you're not," was the mantra for all Seniors in his year. The wide smile that had emerged when he felt the obvious thickness disappeared as he read those words:
We regret to inform...
He was stunned. He'd joined so many clubs that his picture was on five different pages of the school yearbook. Granted, he was the sole member of three, but he still had five different clubs written on his resume. He studied for his SATs so long into the night that it took him three cups of potent coffee to keep him alert on four hours of sleep. His essay was flawless - the guidance counselor said so, but apparently it wasn't good enough for Berkeley. The Oh-So-Mighty Berkeley.
Breathing heavily, he turned the key and pushed the cold door so hard that he was sure the thud could be heard three streets away. He ran to the table Rosa stored all the mail and searched.
Verizon St. Luke's Hospital Comcast Surfers Weekly New York University
The last one was addressed to Ryan Atwood and it was thin. There was obviously something off with the thick vs. thin argument because his had been thick and he got in. He was sure there was no way they could reject Ryan Atwood. Not him. Not the Chosen One.
It had all begun after he sailed off to Tahiti. He hadn't done it to aggravate or upset anyone - he'd left because he needed time to think. He thought they understood Ryan's leaving meant everything to him. Even though in many ways he was a Nichol, he'd been unrecognizable to most. Those who did, despised him. But Ryan had arrived and changed it all. He finally became someone. He found new friends, dated the girl of his dreams and pretty much had a life. He'd expected they'd understand he needed time to adjust to his new life -time away from their worrying looks and their subtle words of encouragement. Basically, he needed time away from them. He'd hoped for their empathy, instead, like Lucifer to God, he'd fallen from their graces. He'd gone from the adorable child they loved and cherished, to the one they barely tolerated. After that, it didn't take much for Ryan to take his place.
The difference was; Ryan had come home. He'd also run away but he was smart enough to return. He came back to comfort, to love, to heal. While he was strolling the Island, chatting with the local girls, stopping to kiss a few, Ryan was at his parents' sides, providing words of hope, being their pillar of strength, reassuring them with words and gestures of love. He became such a fucking Boy Scout that Seth was sure that Baden-Powell had a party in his grave.
When Seth finally returned, Ryan had moved back in. Not to the pool house -no, that was no longer good enough for him- but to the room Hailey abandoned when she moved in with Jimmy Cooper. He and Theresa had come to an agreement that he'd spend the week in Newport and weekends with her in Chino. And for almost a year, he'd been doing just that. He had been at her side during all her hospital visits, been with her when she went into labor and even caught little Cohen when she pushed him out. Yeah, he named his son 'Cohen.' And with all this, he'd managed to maintain his Grade Point Average.
Suddenly, everything became a competition. Well, they denied it, but Seth knew better. How else would you explain that he couldn't claim to hate Spanish because the automatic response would be, "But Ryan has a child and still manages to do well in Spanish?" Complaints about chores were the same. "How come you can't keep your room clean? With all Ryan has on his plate he still manages to keep his spotless." Yeah, it wasn't a contest.
He was breathing easily as he walked down the narrow corridor. The thought of repeating the skateboarding exercise till he received that letter was daunting but he had no choice- he had to get it first. He turned the corner into the kitchen and saw his father sitting next to the fridge. His suit jacket was hanging over a chair and he was pouring himself a glass of apple juice.
"You're here early," Seth commented, startling him.
"Hey, Seth, how was school?" he asked cheerfully. He looked behind him. "Where's Ryan?"
Seth sighed. As usual, it was all about Ryan.
He shrugged. "I don't know where he is, Dad," he replied.
His father was confused. "Don't you normally get home together?"
"Yes. But not today. Did you take the day off?"
His father sipped his juice and still holding the glass, he said, "Not really. I came home to get a file I'd forgotten and noticed that Ryan's letter from Berkeley had arrived, so I decided to wait."
Seth finally noticed the white envelope that was being tapped on the table. It was thin. Discouraged, Seth sat on the stool farthest from his father. He was glad he wouldn't have to skateboard home the following day but he was sorry he had to sacrifice getting Ryan's letter for that luxury. Fact was, he'd already made plans. He'd planned to read it first. And if it was as he hoped, he'd carefully put it back in its envelope, bind it, then place it on Rosa's table. But if, just if, he'd read the words he dreaded, he would tear it into minute pieces and flush them down the toilet.
His father was speaking, but he didn't care - he had too many things on his mind. So he made the noncommittal sounds that one used to placate the talker and make him/her feel like the words weren't going to waste. He noticed that his father stopped. Seth wondered if it was because he knew he wasn't being listened to or that he'd run out of things to say. He figured it was the latter, because lately, no one seemed to have anything to say to him.
His ears perked at the familiar screech of Summer's tires. Sometimes he wondered why her license had yet to be revoked, although he had a sneaking suspicion that it had everything to do with the way she battered her eyelashes and smiled every time she was approached by an unsuspecting policeman.
Ryan bounced into the room. Traces of the shy, brooding boy that had come into his life that summer night barely remained. He was different now -grown up even. His face no longer betrayed distrust or the inner torment of one battling insurmountable demons. Nope. All it showed was maturity. Seth figured fatherhood would do that to a person.
Summer trailed after him and when she caught her boyfriend's eye, she smiled. It was that smile that displayed all her carefully brightened teeth and stretched her lips so wide he was afraid they might tear. The same one that didn't reach her eyes. Lately, he'd been seeing it too frequently. She too had been upset that he'd left without speaking with her, but he'd hoped that as time passed, she'd come to understand his motives and their relationship would mend. As usual, he couldn't have been more wrong. To the untrained eye, they were still very much in love, but he knew differently. He'd begun to hear bored tones in her voice when they spoke and noticed her lack of interest when he kissed her lips. He wished he could say their fire had dimmed but in actuality, all that was left were warm coals.
As expected, she didn't run into his arms. Instead, she hung around Ryan as his father handed him the envelope. Seth's heart stopped. He waited as the smiling Choir Boy tore it open and pulled out the information that would forever seal his place in the family. He counted the seconds in his head.
"1 one thousand, 2 one thousand, 3 one thousand, 4 - "
Ryan looked up from the letter and stared at Sandy. Their bond had become so strong, Seth was sure it transcended words. A tear threatened to fall from his father's eyes. How typical, Seth muttered to himself. Of course he had to get in - it had become their pattern.
The thing was, their success had become inversely correlated. And Ryan's grew at an exponential rate. Seth had grown to hate math. But it's Ryan, of course he had to get in, Seth said to himself. He bet a few angels in heaven would have cried otherwise. Seth watched as his father pulled Ryan into a bear hug and held on for dear life. Seth longed for that. Other than the day he strolled into the house after a fellow sailor had dropped him off, Seth hadn't felt one. Sure, his dad embraced him - short, quick squeezes. But not the type that pulled your body close and aligned your hearts so long they moved in unison. Not that kind. He tried to look away, but couldn't - his envy refused him.
Summer was next in their little hug party. She put her arms around Ryan's shoulders and pulled him to her. It would have been a sweet, sisterly, platonic hug if Seth hadn't know better. He'd seen the intimate looks they sent one another when they thought he wasn't looking. And when they shared a meal and Ryan handed the saltshaker to her, he saw that they both held on a little too long -touching, feeling, lingering... He'd even caught them the other day. Granted, she was sitting on his bed and he at his desk, but Seth knew guilt when he saw it. He knew it so well, he was sure he could write an entire college-level thesis on it. See, he felt guilty about wanting his new brother to fail, to do something wrong -just once- so that things could get back to normal. And that only made him feel guiltier, because he knew he shouldn't feel that way about someone he liked. Except, he didn't like him that much anymore, not really... and that just made him feel worse.
He heard the sounds of high heeled shoes move across the marble floors. He looked sideways and saw his mother walk into the kitchen. She was dressed in her light gray pantsuit, looking grumpy and tired.
On seeing her, his father picked up the letter and shrieked. "He got in! He got in!"
She smiled. "Berkeley?"
He ran up to his wife, picked her up and twirled her around. Seth didn't remember witnessing such jubilation when he showed them his acceptance letter. If anything, he was sure their smiles and hugs were simply a mask of their boredom and disappointment. When his mother was finally put down, she turned to Ryan and kissed him on the cheek. "Congratulations," she said tenderly.
His chest threatening to burst, his father declared, "this is my proudest moment. You are following in the tradition of the Cohen men and attending the greatest university in the country!"
Ryan blushed furiously. Seth was irritated; Golden Boy even had the grace to blush. "I did my best," he replied humbly.
Seth heard his mother cough nervously. "UCLA is great too," she said, looking at her husband.
Realizing his mistake, his father amended, "yes, UCLA is a great school, but... but... Kirsten, Ryan got into Berkeley!" With that, he pulled his wife and new son to him. Shortly after, he gestured for Summer to join their group hug. A fucking group hug. Seth didn't bother to wait to see if they'd extend an invitation to him. He simply slid off the stool and walked out of the kitchen.