I do not own the OC.
Thanks for reading and reviewing.
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"I'm not kidding," I said into the phone receiver.
"I know," she replied. Her voice sounded tired.
"Do you promise you are going to use it?"
"I do. Now, get off this phone - this call must be costing you a fortune," she said, rushing me off.
"Alright, Theresa, make sure you take care of yourself... I'll call you tomorrow," I said then hung up.
Things weren't looking great. Prior to our conversation, I'd called my bank and learned that my account was exactly as I'd left it. The Cohens didn't give me a reason to spend my own money, and as I had no need for new clothes or any gadgets, I'd saved quite a bit over the year.
I'd specifically gone to Chino to help Theresa out with the pregnancy and by taking the trip to find Seth, I almost felt like I was shirking my responsibilities. That's why I gave Theresa access to my bank account. I'd even gone as far as filling out the paperwork to convert it into a joint account. I figured that even though I wasn't going to be with her physically, I could still provide her with financial support. But according to Bank of America, it was exactly as I'd left it : it still had $4,781.51 was still under one name. And that just pissed me off. I just couldn't find a way of feeling good about Theresa carrying a child that was possibly mine without any help from me; it just felt wrong. Not for the first time, I wished I'd stayed in Chino to keep an eye on her, but there was no way I was going to let Anna travel alone.
I reached into my bag, grabbed my packet of cigarettes and pulled one out. Everyone thought I'd quit but I had the occasional puff whenever I felt stressed. I was averaging about one a week. I walked up to the deck and saw Anna steering the wheel. She looked like she didn't have a care in the world and for a moment, I envied that.
The only way I could describe our relationship was unexpected. It was almost like I was a different person in the Pacific Ocean. I wasn't Ryan of Chino, who tried to keep things in order and avoid cops at the same time, or Ryan of Newport who had to adjust to living with strangers who just wanted to help me. I was just Ryan. And it felt foreign. Foreign but nice. She didn't bother masking her anger when I annoyed her, she didn't intrude when she noticed I needed some alone time and she didn't ask anything of me. And I liked that. I didn't feel there was any way I could disappoint her because she didn't expect anything. Plus she seemed to be able to enjoy life and not second-guess herself. She wanted to move back to Pittsburgh so she did. She wanted to fly down to Newport so she did. I don't know, I just think that's cool.
I woke up in the morning to find her in my arms. Except, she wasn't actually in my arms till I put them around her. Then she snuggled up against me and kind of in the natural progression of things, I kissed her forehead. I probably shouldn't have but it just seemed like the right thing to do.
She must have heard my footsteps because she turned around and smiled. However, her expression changed when she spotted the cigarette in my hand.
"What? You don't want me smoking?" I asked.
She shrugged and shook her head. "Did I say anything?"
"No... but the look on your face..."
"Ryan, do what you want. If you want to shorten your lifespan, who am I to say anything?"
I sat down on a chair and put the cigarette between my lips. I could see that she was looking at me from the corner of her eye but I lit it anyway. I dragged the smoke in deeply and when it was time, slowly let it through my nostrils. It was exactly what I needed. Too bad it could also kill me. I took two more puffs before I chose to give in to the guilt I felt about smoking around her. There was no ashtray so I threw the burning cigarette into the ocean.
"I guess there are no boundaries for you. You pollute both air and sea," she commented without looking at me.
I laid my head on the table and remarked, "What I would do for some beer..."
"Oh, you're an alcoholic too?"
"Anna..." She'd started to get on my nerves. I had so many things on my mind and just wasn't in the mood to be subjected to her judgments -I just didn't need it.
She didn't say anything. Instead, she just kept steering the boat. We remained in silence for a while before she asked, "Ryan, is everything alright?"
"Yes," I replied, my head still bent.
"Cool. Do you still want that beer?"
My ears perked up. "We have beer?" I said, turning to look at her.
She laughed lightly. "Not exactly, but my father keeps a well stocked mini bar. Give me a minute to set this to autopilot," she said reading something off a computer screen, "and I'll show you."
-------
"So he came up, right, and then everyone was like, oh my God, that totally stinks and then... and then, he like just started crying except he was laughing," she was saying an hour later.
Drunk Anna was amusing in a sad way. I was a little buzzed but not so that I also found her awful stories the least bit entertaining.
She'd started off making mixed drinks, most of them consisting of Kool Aid, because it was the only thing we could bring with us, but after a while, we just drank vodka with ice.
"So, isn't that the funniest story you've ever heard?" she asked right before she took another gulp.
I laughed and shook my head. "No, actually that one pretty much sucks."
She frowned. "Yeah? Then let's see you tell a funny one then."
"See? The difference is, I know I'm not funny, so I won't even bother."
She dismissed me with a wave. "You're just jealous."
"Of?"
"Of my funniness. Duh! Sometimes you just don't get it."
I laughed. Yeah, Drunk Anna was definitely funny. She was sitting on the couch, legs akimbo, rambling, while occasionally touching the pimple on her face. Since we'd started the journey, unlike she did in Newport, she hadn't worn a stitch of make-up. I'd initially thought it cool, till I later realized that she hadn't worn a stitch of make-up, meaning that she didn't care about the way she looked around me. Which, I'm sad to admit, I found a little disappointing.
So there she was, pimply and drunk, and all I could think of was that I found her incredibly attractive. I think the alcohol was partly to blame but lately, even when I'd been completely sober, I'd found myself drawn to her. So I told her.
"Huh?" she said, looking up from her glass. She was holding on to the bottle of vodka with her other hand, waiting to refill.
"I said, do you know you're really cute?"
"Am I drunk or did you say you think I'm cute?" she asked skeptically.
"You are drunk and I said you're cute."
She put down her glass. "That's interesting," she observed.
"Hmm. Is that all you're going to say?"
"Well," she said thoughtfully, "I think you have a big nose... no, not big - huuuuge," she described, holding her hands up about a foot apart
"What?" That certainly wasn't what I was hoping to hear. When I'd tried to hint it the other day, she'd thought I was talking about Marissa, then now she thinks my nose is big? It was just wrong.
"So, does that mean your snot is really huge?" she continued then laughed uncontrollably.
I gulped down the rest of the liquid then reached for the bottle but she wouldn't let go if it.
"What now?" I asked, my irritation heightened by the alcohol that had begun to seep into my bloodstream.
She patted the seat next to her. "Come and sit here," she ordered.
"Anna..."
"I said come and sit here!"
I joined her on the couch. "Now what?"
She reached for my shirt. "Now, kiss me."
"What?"
"You think I'm cute, right?"
"And you think my snot is huge."
She started giggling. "You're so funny Ryan. Why would I say such a thing? That's just dumb. I said, I think you're cute too. Hello, I'm not blind. So come on, kiss me!"
She pulled me closer and when I was a few inches away from her, thinking of ways to escape, she put her other hand over her mouth and ran to the bathroom. A few moments later, I heard her throwing up her lunch.
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A few hours later, we were both in bed attempting to sleep it all off. As I turned, trying to make myself more comfortable, I mistakenly tapped her.
"Ryan," she said, her voice muffled by the pillow.
"Yes?"
"Don't try to kiss me."
"What?"
"I'm not drunk anymore, so don't try to kiss me."
"I'm not trying to kiss you."
"But you just touched me. I'm just warning you, 'cos I'm not drunk anymore."
"Anna, I know you're not drunk. Can you shut up now?" I begged. I was already prepared to wake up with a hangover.
"Don't tell me to shut up."
"But you're talking and that's giving me a headache." I put the pillow over my head.
"I don't care, just don't tell me to shut up."
"But you're talking and I'm trying to sleep."
"So what? That doesn't mean you can tell me to shut up," she argued.
I groaned. "How about this? If I shut up, will you stop talking?"
"Sure."
So I did. And so did she.
Thanks for reading and reviewing.
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"I'm not kidding," I said into the phone receiver.
"I know," she replied. Her voice sounded tired.
"Do you promise you are going to use it?"
"I do. Now, get off this phone - this call must be costing you a fortune," she said, rushing me off.
"Alright, Theresa, make sure you take care of yourself... I'll call you tomorrow," I said then hung up.
Things weren't looking great. Prior to our conversation, I'd called my bank and learned that my account was exactly as I'd left it. The Cohens didn't give me a reason to spend my own money, and as I had no need for new clothes or any gadgets, I'd saved quite a bit over the year.
I'd specifically gone to Chino to help Theresa out with the pregnancy and by taking the trip to find Seth, I almost felt like I was shirking my responsibilities. That's why I gave Theresa access to my bank account. I'd even gone as far as filling out the paperwork to convert it into a joint account. I figured that even though I wasn't going to be with her physically, I could still provide her with financial support. But according to Bank of America, it was exactly as I'd left it : it still had $4,781.51 was still under one name. And that just pissed me off. I just couldn't find a way of feeling good about Theresa carrying a child that was possibly mine without any help from me; it just felt wrong. Not for the first time, I wished I'd stayed in Chino to keep an eye on her, but there was no way I was going to let Anna travel alone.
I reached into my bag, grabbed my packet of cigarettes and pulled one out. Everyone thought I'd quit but I had the occasional puff whenever I felt stressed. I was averaging about one a week. I walked up to the deck and saw Anna steering the wheel. She looked like she didn't have a care in the world and for a moment, I envied that.
The only way I could describe our relationship was unexpected. It was almost like I was a different person in the Pacific Ocean. I wasn't Ryan of Chino, who tried to keep things in order and avoid cops at the same time, or Ryan of Newport who had to adjust to living with strangers who just wanted to help me. I was just Ryan. And it felt foreign. Foreign but nice. She didn't bother masking her anger when I annoyed her, she didn't intrude when she noticed I needed some alone time and she didn't ask anything of me. And I liked that. I didn't feel there was any way I could disappoint her because she didn't expect anything. Plus she seemed to be able to enjoy life and not second-guess herself. She wanted to move back to Pittsburgh so she did. She wanted to fly down to Newport so she did. I don't know, I just think that's cool.
I woke up in the morning to find her in my arms. Except, she wasn't actually in my arms till I put them around her. Then she snuggled up against me and kind of in the natural progression of things, I kissed her forehead. I probably shouldn't have but it just seemed like the right thing to do.
She must have heard my footsteps because she turned around and smiled. However, her expression changed when she spotted the cigarette in my hand.
"What? You don't want me smoking?" I asked.
She shrugged and shook her head. "Did I say anything?"
"No... but the look on your face..."
"Ryan, do what you want. If you want to shorten your lifespan, who am I to say anything?"
I sat down on a chair and put the cigarette between my lips. I could see that she was looking at me from the corner of her eye but I lit it anyway. I dragged the smoke in deeply and when it was time, slowly let it through my nostrils. It was exactly what I needed. Too bad it could also kill me. I took two more puffs before I chose to give in to the guilt I felt about smoking around her. There was no ashtray so I threw the burning cigarette into the ocean.
"I guess there are no boundaries for you. You pollute both air and sea," she commented without looking at me.
I laid my head on the table and remarked, "What I would do for some beer..."
"Oh, you're an alcoholic too?"
"Anna..." She'd started to get on my nerves. I had so many things on my mind and just wasn't in the mood to be subjected to her judgments -I just didn't need it.
She didn't say anything. Instead, she just kept steering the boat. We remained in silence for a while before she asked, "Ryan, is everything alright?"
"Yes," I replied, my head still bent.
"Cool. Do you still want that beer?"
My ears perked up. "We have beer?" I said, turning to look at her.
She laughed lightly. "Not exactly, but my father keeps a well stocked mini bar. Give me a minute to set this to autopilot," she said reading something off a computer screen, "and I'll show you."
-------
"So he came up, right, and then everyone was like, oh my God, that totally stinks and then... and then, he like just started crying except he was laughing," she was saying an hour later.
Drunk Anna was amusing in a sad way. I was a little buzzed but not so that I also found her awful stories the least bit entertaining.
She'd started off making mixed drinks, most of them consisting of Kool Aid, because it was the only thing we could bring with us, but after a while, we just drank vodka with ice.
"So, isn't that the funniest story you've ever heard?" she asked right before she took another gulp.
I laughed and shook my head. "No, actually that one pretty much sucks."
She frowned. "Yeah? Then let's see you tell a funny one then."
"See? The difference is, I know I'm not funny, so I won't even bother."
She dismissed me with a wave. "You're just jealous."
"Of?"
"Of my funniness. Duh! Sometimes you just don't get it."
I laughed. Yeah, Drunk Anna was definitely funny. She was sitting on the couch, legs akimbo, rambling, while occasionally touching the pimple on her face. Since we'd started the journey, unlike she did in Newport, she hadn't worn a stitch of make-up. I'd initially thought it cool, till I later realized that she hadn't worn a stitch of make-up, meaning that she didn't care about the way she looked around me. Which, I'm sad to admit, I found a little disappointing.
So there she was, pimply and drunk, and all I could think of was that I found her incredibly attractive. I think the alcohol was partly to blame but lately, even when I'd been completely sober, I'd found myself drawn to her. So I told her.
"Huh?" she said, looking up from her glass. She was holding on to the bottle of vodka with her other hand, waiting to refill.
"I said, do you know you're really cute?"
"Am I drunk or did you say you think I'm cute?" she asked skeptically.
"You are drunk and I said you're cute."
She put down her glass. "That's interesting," she observed.
"Hmm. Is that all you're going to say?"
"Well," she said thoughtfully, "I think you have a big nose... no, not big - huuuuge," she described, holding her hands up about a foot apart
"What?" That certainly wasn't what I was hoping to hear. When I'd tried to hint it the other day, she'd thought I was talking about Marissa, then now she thinks my nose is big? It was just wrong.
"So, does that mean your snot is really huge?" she continued then laughed uncontrollably.
I gulped down the rest of the liquid then reached for the bottle but she wouldn't let go if it.
"What now?" I asked, my irritation heightened by the alcohol that had begun to seep into my bloodstream.
She patted the seat next to her. "Come and sit here," she ordered.
"Anna..."
"I said come and sit here!"
I joined her on the couch. "Now what?"
She reached for my shirt. "Now, kiss me."
"What?"
"You think I'm cute, right?"
"And you think my snot is huge."
She started giggling. "You're so funny Ryan. Why would I say such a thing? That's just dumb. I said, I think you're cute too. Hello, I'm not blind. So come on, kiss me!"
She pulled me closer and when I was a few inches away from her, thinking of ways to escape, she put her other hand over her mouth and ran to the bathroom. A few moments later, I heard her throwing up her lunch.
-----
A few hours later, we were both in bed attempting to sleep it all off. As I turned, trying to make myself more comfortable, I mistakenly tapped her.
"Ryan," she said, her voice muffled by the pillow.
"Yes?"
"Don't try to kiss me."
"What?"
"I'm not drunk anymore, so don't try to kiss me."
"I'm not trying to kiss you."
"But you just touched me. I'm just warning you, 'cos I'm not drunk anymore."
"Anna, I know you're not drunk. Can you shut up now?" I begged. I was already prepared to wake up with a hangover.
"Don't tell me to shut up."
"But you're talking and that's giving me a headache." I put the pillow over my head.
"I don't care, just don't tell me to shut up."
"But you're talking and I'm trying to sleep."
"So what? That doesn't mean you can tell me to shut up," she argued.
I groaned. "How about this? If I shut up, will you stop talking?"
"Sure."
So I did. And so did she.