(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)
A Note from the Author: Gah, the season finale was so emotional. I didn't want the show to end! Ryan's back in Chino (no!), Seth's on his boat (heh, Lulu34, I guess I did predict that somewhat), Summer's consequentially getting screwed over, and Marissa's drinking again. Lord, it seemed like the show regressed. Fingers crossed for next season – anyone know if that one's starting early in the summer, too? Okay, so, here is chapter twenty-nine… Sorry for all of you hopefuls, but Marissa's stay in Chino is brief (and maybe she can just go away soon sighs). Hope you guys like it anyway! Onwards. (In tribute to the show: California. California. Here we coooome. sniff sniff)
Chapter Twenty-NineSeth nursed an ice-cold beer in his hands, turning it over and over, watching the drops of condensation as they clung precariously to the can.
He hadn't opened it yet; he was just waiting for the "right time". Yeah. That was it. It wasn't because he didn't drink beer and couldn't tolerate it, though. It was because the timing had to be perfect. He didn't want the alcohol to slide down his throat in a flavourless frigid stream, yet warm beer didn't sound too appetizing either.
At least, that's what Luke always said.
Seth didn't know when he had become a beer-drinker. He had just assumed that he had to adopt that habit now. Maybe he needed to get a buzz cut or something, get rid of those goofy curls he had. He could start wearing hoodies in the middle of an O.C. winter, and dress in all black like a ninja.
That's what bad guys did, right?
Bad guys also betrayed their so-called friends and hurt people just for the hell of it. And correct him if he was wrong, but Seth Cohen had done just that. In other words, it would be no surprise if his keys suddenly attached themselves to his neck, he lost all of his hair in a freak accident, or he went around donning green tights and a stupid little Hallowe'en mask.
Jesus/Moses. Right or not, he needed to read fewer comic books.
He pressed the beer to his forehead, relaxing against its coolness. He could stay like this forever, he thought. It felt perfect.
"Seth."
Damn.
"Snap out of it, man. I need to ask you something," the very familiar voice was saying. Ryan sounded just a bit peeved, that was obvious. Like Seth could blame him.
"I'm all ears, buddy. I was all mouth before, but now I shall make like Dumbo," he quipped, setting the beer down in front of him.
"Just tell me where Marissa is, if you know," Ryan snapped. Summer must be rubbing off on him.
"I don't. Know, I mean. She just took off, as she is so apt to do. I'm not her parole officer, are you?" Somehow, Seth managed to sound mean-spirited despite himself. He had felt the habitual beginnings of witty banter welling up inside of him, but this time it came out different, unlike the dry humour he had become used to. Ryan needed to hear the latter, and laugh. Ryan needed to laugh or smile or react in some good way, or else Seth didn't know what to do. For once in his life, he was frantically grasping at words.
"We need to know, Seth." He watched as Ryan's hands discreetly clenched into fists and his glare hardened. "It's really important."
Seth would have taken the opportunity to laugh at how Ryan was speaking as if to a two-year-old, but it seemed appropriate. And right now his palms were dangerously sweaty, and he had the odd urge to hide underneath his Spiderman bedcovers. "We?" he asked. "Speaking of, how's Summer?"
Ryan scoffed in disbelief, finally unable to hide his emotions. "Summer? Summer. You're asking me about Summer. Let me just – how do you think, Seth? You think she's totally kosher with the fact that Marissa knows? How could you do that? What the fuck were you thinking, no, wait, were you even thinking at all?"
Oh, whoops. He didn't know why he had mentioned her; it was just that she was the only person he cared to think about right now. But judging from Ryan's rant, that had not been the right conversational topic to bring up. Seth had just fallen off the stupid tree, and hit every stupid tree branch on the way down. "I… I…" he stuttered, wondering why he had just been afflicted with a horrible speech impediment. Okay, words needed to be coming out of his mouth right now. Preferably the right words, because he had witnessed Ryan in a fistfight, and the odds weren't looking good.
The tough-looking boy sighed heavily. "Forget it. You obviously don't know. I gotta go."
"I…!" Seth's last attempt at speaking failed. How could he express in layman's terms that he wanted Ryan not to go, to stay and hear him out, yet he knew he had to go and find Marissa because she had been driven away with the truth, although she needed to hear it anyway and it would have been unfair to let her stay ignorant, and… dammit. His vocabulary skills were sadly lacking in that department.
Branch. Branch. Branch. And then hitting the stupid ground. Oh look, wasn't that – yes, the stupid truck was now running him over.
Later, less than an hour's drive from where Stupid Seth was sitting, Marissa was watching real trucks pass her by from her seat on the corner of a sidewalk.
It had been a couple of hours. Why wasn't Ryan here yet? She was sure that if she ran to a place only he was familiar with, he'd figure it out and come for her. But so far, there had been no pricey car in sight and all she had to show for her wait were a couple of mosquito bites and a very suspicious looking rash on her ankle. Scratching at it distractedly, she scanned the road again. It was growing dark now; she wasn't sure how long she could take in her low-cut top and miniskirt in the increasingly chilly weather.
She could manage, though. Like Ryan had said not so long ago, she needed to be independent anyway. Maybe she could live out here for a while. Maybe some kind Chino family could take her in, like the Cohens had done with him. She could picture them, dark-haired, kind, maybe even one of them was an old friend of his. That sounded good. And eventually she could get a job and impress him with her ability to hack it in this horrid place.
But first, he needed to be here to see it happen.
Drumming her fingers impatiently on the concrete, Marissa gave another once-over of the entire area. The night was coming alive now, and she could hear loud music blaring on one side, a heated marital argument on the other. It was almost like The Valley, only this time the people were real and so were the sensations. She glanced at her watch.
One o' clock already. How did it get to be so late? And where was Ryan?
She scratched aggressively at the annoying red blotch on her ankle, wincing as she finally drew blood. These unconscious habits were getting to her.
Screw it! She couldn't do this anymore. If Ryan was going to find her, she would have to be somewhere a little bit closer to home, because obviously his detective skills weren't up to par. Whipping her cell phone out, she dialled the cab service's number quickly and purposefully.
Luke busied himself around his house, self-consciously checking his reflection every once in a while in a mirror to make sure nothing was out of place. His brothers were at a sleepover, his mom was out on a date (and judging from her choice of dress, she wouldn't be back until morning), which meant only one thing in the Luke Ward Guide to Life.
Well, two things: party… or booty call!
Each sounded appealing. He had hoped for both, but anyway, that wish had been granted in the bash of '02. Uh… when he and Marissa had briefly broken up. Tonight, though, it was the call of The Booty that he answered to, and that call alone (he would reconcile with the call of The Beer some other day). He sneaked a peek at the clock in the kitchen. Two o' clock. It was almost time now. He readied himself with the final gesture, a spritzing in his mouth of minty goodness, and stood guard at his front door.
All that was left to do was wait. And then The Booty should bless him with its divine presence.
The doorbell rang on cue, and he excitedly grabbed for the door handle.
"Julie!" he called out eagerly.
However, standing in front of him was not Julie, but another Cooper. Marissa, as a defeated and humiliated mess, bearing a questionable ankle rash.
Luke was considered dumb by most, but he was pretty sure that she would not be blessing him with The Booty anytime soon.
Seeing as how she didn't really have one.