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

A Note from the Author: sigh Last night marked another Monday of the emptiness in my heart known as "O.C., where are thee?" I'm going crazy! I had to settle for C.S.I.: Miami, and then it turned out to be the season finale, and… oh brother. Someone needs to pick up the universal remote and fast forward to late October. Summer vacation may be forsaken in the process, but, dammit, that's how much I love my T.V. I guess I'm addicted (to T.V. or abbreviations? Heh.) Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter (I promise there'll be more R/S next time!) Winter vacation needs to end soon, lol, and it's back to school. And I totally forgot to say 'onwards' last chappie (it's become tradition, wot wot) so I'm saying it now and saying it proud: onwards (times two)!

Chapter Thirty-One

Luke sighed in relief and settled back in the comfortable plush confines of his living room couch. He hadn't managed to ask why Marissa was missing, but that wasn't important right now.Julie knew; it was up to him to call Mr. Cooper and tell him the good news. Plus, he'd heard that Summer was growing increasingly anxious and Ryan was out looking for the missing-in-action Newport princess. So, that made four people in total. One down, three to go.

Dialling Jimmy's apartment by heart, he was suddenly sick with worry. What do you say to the father whose daughter you had been knocking boots with, then cheated on, then got dumped unceremoniously by, and whom you were currently housing in the can? Not to mention the fact that you were bonking the man's ex-wife at the moment. Luke wasn't much of a deep thinker for this sort of stuff. For him, euphemisms were possible. Solutions were not.

The conversation went smoothly, though, except for one moment when Jimmy wondered out loud whether Julie knew, and then had to be reminded that she and Luke were on very close terms. He gave a resentful chuckle, and said that she was getting what was coming to her.

Luke didn't know what the hell that meant, but the ring stashed in the back of his closet certainly begged to differ. He'd drained his bank account, but it was worth it. A pink princess-cut diamond with more carats than you can count on your hands and toes, he could tell you that much.

Why he had bought it was still an unsolved mystery. He just saw it in a boutique window and thought, Julie would love that. Then he bought it. It had been so simple, the buying. He had wondered why men didn't do it more often. You know, for birthdays and anniversaries. For 'just because' days and every Monday. Then he realized that he would actually have to give it to her, in person, and he'd have to use words and speak and everything. He started thinking. Too hard, in fact. And that's when things started to go downhill.

Now, Luke had read the occasional Cosmo, for research benefits, you see. His mother seemed to enjoy it a lot, and he figured, what better way to understand the feminine mystique? And he pretty much understood that giving a ring to someone ("Such a nice engagement ring," the owner of the shop had commented) after maybe six months together, barely even doing what was considered as dating… well, that was idiotic. He might have to stop bleaching his hair, it was so idiotic: the colour would be coming in naturally! Plus, there would be the whole thing about marriage.

That was kind of important to women, or at least, according to Cosmo. Apparently, it usually occurred once in a woman's lifetime, although in Newport that was hardly ever the case. The women there didn't really plan their fairy-tale weddings ever since they were four and wore a white pillowcase around their heads. By the time they were that age, they'd tossed the veil aside and were planning to invest. It seemed like all they did was look at money and jewellery.

Julie was sometimes like that, too. But she was from Riverside, not Newport, and that made her a little different from the norm.

Then again, that was what he loved about her.

Oh yeah, the love part. He needed to get to that soon. He'd known for a while that he had loved Julie Cooper, but he didn't think she knew that he knew. (This was getting confusing.) I mean, there were times when he would whisper it in her ear, but that was when she was basking in a post-coital glow and half-asleep, mumbling something like, "Hands up!" or "Mmm… handcuffs." Luke wasn't sure if those were ever appropriate times to wake her. So he didn't.

He actually enjoyed watching her sleep, anyway.

Not like in the creepy stalker way. That was Oliver's department. But especially in the glow of the moonlight, softly illuminating her cute wrinkles and peaceful face… that was when he was sure that even if she developed enough wrinkles to resemble a raisin or acquired cellulite on that rockin' ass of hers, he would still stay with her. Although he'd rather not think of raisins and cellulite at the moment.

It was in the latter part of their relationship, after they were found out by Marissa, that everything became less hush-hush and more rush-rush (okay, so puns were not his thing any more so than solutions). When everyone, even Seth and Ryan, decided to look down upon him and shun him. Luke had almost stopped regretting that he let the water polo team let loose their bodily functions in Seth's sneakers. Anyway, there was no need for privacy when the whole town knew what you were doing, so the whole exciting risk factor was lost. That didn't really matter, though.

Luke had Julie and she had him, and that made him feel warm and fuzzy all over.

Damn, dude! First the moonlight comment, and now this? He was getting downright sissy-like. This had to stop.

Uh… Sports! He played sports. And he was good at them, too. He also liked beer. Lots of beer. And, ooh, monster trucks. He had heard Julie talk about them once, in a hushed voice, meaning that she was discussing some secret part of her 'past' life in Riverside. Julie had made monster trucks sound so interesting. Everything she said sounded interesting, even when he had once heard her listing a grocery list to the maid.

…Yeah, Luke was whipped.

But there was no use thinking of that now; Marissa wouldn't stay in the bathroom forever, and there were two more people who needed to be notified. Pressing the phone receiver's buttons quickly, he waited impatiently until Ryan picked up.

"Luke? Wha –"

"No time for that now!" he interrupted. "This is urgent. It's about Marissa."

"Marissa! You mean –"

And then Luke heard the most horrible sound: the flushing of a toilet. Marissa was coming back in! "Oh shit, I'll call you back later! Fuck, I need to call Summer too –"

"No need. Summer's… with me."

Those were the last words from Ryan before Luke hung up without hesitation and turned to watch for Marissa's entrance. There was a brief pause, and then a tiny, almost burned out lightbulb above his head came to life. Wait… Summer was with Ryan? Summer was with Ryan? Summer was with Ryan? Well, common sense be damned!

It was at this moment that Marissa chose to walk in the room, and the first thing she saw was Luke's shocked expression. She jumped to her own conclusions, of course. "The rash looks that bad?" she shrieked. Then she ran back into the bathroom and slammed the door.

"Marissa!" Luke yelled. Oh great. At this rate, she was never going to leave his house. He looked longingly at the phone lying innocently on its side, wishing he could ask for Ryan's advice. But with Marissa being so sensitive right now… a phone call to yet another one of her ex-boyfriends might not be such a good idea. There was also the matter of why she ran away to his place; it's not like he thought himself her most trusted confidante or something.

"Luke's?" Summer asked similarly, while seated cross-legged on Ryan's bed halfway across town. She scrunched up her face in disgust. "Why him?"

"I don't know. He said he'd call me back though." Ryan shrugged.

"Is he going to call me? Because he only knows my home phone number, and –"

"No. He knows… you're with me," he admitted with a tinge of guilt. "I thought it would be a good time to tell him, and… stuff…"

Summer blinked almost comically. "Oh."

"Yeah."

Ryan glanced at the clock and grimaced. "It's getting late; you should go home now. I'll call you with any news from Luke as soon as possible."

"It's not like my parents would notice," she remarked nonchalantly. "Besides, I want to be here."

He gestured around the pool house, and gazed downwards at his bed, puzzled. "You mean… here?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't try any funny stuff; I'm not that kind of girl."

He refrained from cracking a dry joke about that comment. It just wasn't worth it, he'd learned. The five seconds of amusement he gained usually didn't compensate for one week of the cold shoulder.

It was in the middle of the night (Luke still hadn't called) when Summer woke up suddenly. "What the…" Still disoriented, she mumbled, "Where am I? Is this a dream?"

Ryan cracked open one eye irritably and grunted, "No. Your clothes are still on."

Summer had the sense to push him out of bed.

"Ass."