(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Oh my God, you guys, I just noticed that we passed the 200-review mark already. I'm just… so… speechless! I never expected to get that many reviews, well plus I never really expected to write a story with almost thirty chapters and counting. Thank you, thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart! Everybody gets a hug and a cookie! Plus, okay, who here is totally looking forward to the season finale tonight? I know I am! Oh yeah, and also: onwards. (Sorry for the lack of updates; I was hit by the Sasser worm that's been going around, and hopefully the problem's totally fixed now.)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ever since he was little, Ryan never liked phones.

They were loud and annoying; they had shrill ring tones that only dogs could hear. And if he heard the strains of Fur Elise one more time, he was going to have to hurt someone (although he had hurt people with far less justification before).

When he watched someone take a phone call, he knew that he or she would soon be leaving. Memories of his childhood were filled with the images of Trey or Dawn responding to an urgent call, then leaving the house for days or weeks, sometimes even months. Ryan dreaded the times when there were two separate periods of ringing instead of one, because then both would have to leave and he would be all alone. This meant that his mornings would be spent scrounging for food around the house, inspecting days-old leftovers to see what could be salvaged. This meant that his nights would be spent under the covers during thunderstorms, without the security of knowing that his family was near.

Although Dawn and Trey were emotionally absent most of the time, being literally absent was something completely different.

It worked the other way, also. Phones made people arrive at his house instead of leave. Most of them smelled weird, a combination of something sickly sweet and the sour taste of beer. They were covered with odd inky markings and piercings in places Ryan didn't even think were possible. The women liked to gush over his faux rebellious look and harmless glowering. The men liked to kid about how their Pixie Dust was much better than the candy kind that he ate. Needless to say, he didn't find their jokes at all amusing.

He possessed this same loathing for phones even after he moved to the O.C. It didn't help that now everybody was rich enough to own more than a couple of phones, and could afford to pay all of the bills on time, unlike his previous acquaintances. Hell, he had even found one in the pool house, and his last birthday present from Kirsten and Sandy was a cell phone.

Ryan thought that he had gotten over it; he thought that he had figured it out and that he was okay with people coming and going at the beck of some idiotic ring tone.

But he was wrong.

He soon discovered that phones meant bad news, because if you couldn't afford the time to meet someone in person to tell them something important, then you were going to call them. That was what Seth did when he announced he was coming back from his summer boating trip. That was how Summer's mother's lawyer got a hold of her. And it was exactly how Seth chose to inform him that he had just enlightened Marissa about Ryan and Summer's real relationship.

Yes, Ryan's generation lived in the Age of Technology. It was just too bad that he would rather be Amish.

The day itself had begun acceptably. Seth was still not talking to him, but Ryan was pleased with their progress. He felt that they had reached a nice state of comfortable silence. Satisfied, he left the house for Summer's, and they enjoyed a relaxing lunch together before settling down on the couch to watch an afternoon re-run of The Valley.

Well, that was the plan. The truth was, no one was really paying attention to the television at all. (Surprise, surprise.)

Partly because they had seen the episode already, and partly because they were trying not to look at each other. You see, neither had any self-restraint, and this trait was particularly dangerous when you had two deprived hormonal-ridden teenagers sitting incredibly close together. Ryan couldn't remember who jumped whom, but he was pretty sure it all started when he reached over Summer for the remote next to her. Coincidentally, she had been leaning forward to grab a chip from the bowl on the table in front of her, and their bodies touched.

Summer stared at him, mouth agape. "Want a…" she began, as she offered the chip to him. "Ah fuck it." She grabbed Ryan and kissed him hard.

Of course, he responded. Very enthusiastically, in fact, and somehow their bodies ended up crushing the chip between them and the couch. A very cheesy Dorito and a custom-built beige suede sofa.

Whatever, Ryan thought dismissively. A cleaning bill was worth it, being able to make out with his own girlfriend. They had worked off each other's shirts and he was trying to figure out the complicated ties on the front of Summer's miniskirt. Then his cell phone rang.

"Ignore it," she mumbled between kisses.

"What if it's… oh shit," he moaned as he heard his belt unbuckle with a satisfying clink.

Summer couldn't help but grin. "You're about to get very lucky, Mr. Atwood."

Ryan's moment of bliss was interrupted when he stole a glance at his cell phone, and managed to read the writing on its screen. Seth Cohen. Seth Cohen! His eyes grew wide, and his arm shot out for his phone. He brought it to his ear, and apologetically held Summer back with his other arm. "Seth? Is that you?" he tried not to sound too eager.

At the mention of her ex-boyfriend's name, Summer halted whatever she was trying to do with Ryan's pants and leaned back in the couch, almost pouting. Drats. Foiled again. Then she heard a gasp and saw all of the colour drain from his face.

Saved you the trouble. That was all Seth could say? Those were his first words after a whole week? Ryan didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Marissa was supposed to be getting better. She was supposed to be back on her feet again, after the disaster known as Luke and Julie. And now Seth had to go and do this… Fuck laughing and crying. He was going to have to skip a couple of emotions and go straight to punching a wall. Instead, he threw his cell phone across the room and watched as it shattered against the fireplace.

Don't kill the messenger, my ass.

He looked to his side and saw Summer staring at him with her eyes wide, startled at his sudden action. "Seth told Marissa," he bluntly stated, and clenched his jaw.

Summer's eyes were already wide. She was already stunned at the sight of his cell phone in pieces on the floor. But the next item of information she heard was even more surprising. Her face couldn't possibly look even more shocked, so she had to compensate with words. "I'm going to kill him!" She stood up and stalked towards her garage with a purpose.

Ryan stopped her, and held her shirt out. "You might be needing this."

"Oh yeah," she replied sheepishly, and clumsily fitted it over her head. "But I'm really going to do it. I'm gonna kick him on the ground with my fuckin' heels on!" Whoever had called Ryan, it wasn't Seth. It couldn't have been shy, sweet Seth, with his head full of ideals and his heart full of love. It must have been Evil Clone Seth.

And Evil Clone Seth was due for an ass-kicking.

Reluctantly, Ryan gave up trying to ignore his conscience. "We can't do that right now. We have to find Marissa first before she does… something… to herself."

Summer gave a shriek of exasperation and kicked her garage door in place of Evil Clone Seth's abdomen. "Fine! You're right! Are you happy now?" she screeched.

He winced at the feeling of being a verbal punching bag. "Let's just go." They decided to head to Jimmy's apartment first. (Phones were overrated, Ryan had decided.)

When Jimmy opened the door with the hopeful query of "Marissa?" it was easy to figure out that Ryan and Summer's search wasn't over. "No," the elder Cooper had responded wearily to their insistent questions, "I haven't seen her ever since we've been back from L.A."

"No," Julie replied similarly when the two asked her at the front door of her mansion. "Why? Is she missing again?" her tone rose as she calculated the possibilities.

There was no choice. They had to ask Seth.

Ryan decided against bringing Summer and left her in the car, stopping short of taking her keys and locking her in it. He could tell that all of the little snarky comments she was making now and then in the car were slowly building up to a rage blackout of monumental proportions. He feared for Seth's health, you see.

As he entered the Cohen mansion, he went through a mental list of all the places Marissa could be. Well, she was certainly not with her parents right now. There were plenty of friends she could be with, but most of them had already shunned her after her suicide attempt in Tijuana.

What about in Chino?

Like that would even be possible. Who would she stay with? At the thought of Marissa showing up at one of his childhood friend's doorstep armed with a Prada handbag and staring distastefully at the little shack, Ryan's thoughts went haywire.

Ryan Atwood, he mused. Don't be ridiculous.