carpanthers21- Yes, exactly. Same year, different circumstances. It's summer, let's say August ('cause I do believe that's when Summer's birthday was mentioned on the show). ;) Hope that helps.

6/6

This morning when Summer checked her purse for lipstick, she found her father's credit cards. How had she forgotten about them? It didn't matter now. There was shopping to be done.

On Summer's Top Ten List of Things To Do, shopping was number one. It was her favourite activity in the whole world, second only to tanning and waxing. And she was good at it. She could spot a bargain from the food court -the smell of grease and pizza heavy with oregano, unable to distract her. It was almost too easy for her to find her size just by feeling the fabric. And carrying large stacks of boxes had never been a problem. But since Ryan was with her, she didn't have to. He looked odd trailing after her with bags and parcels tucked under his biceps and it made her giggle in a way she hadn't since she was a little girl.

Her father was getting her a car for her birthday. A black BMW. She'd seen the bill. It would have been a great present. It wasn't what she wanted. She'd hinted-casually and then not so casually-that what she wanted most for her birthday was time with him. Two weeks. One week. A day. Just some quality time like they'd never had before. So they could get to know each other. So she could stop feeling like she was living with strangers. All she got was a blank stare. Shopping helped take her mind off the hurt she felt.

She could tell Ryan was hating every minute of it. Every grunt and sigh when she modelled for him got hoarser and longer. She knew some of that was frustration. She had eyes; she could see what she was doing to him...and she loved it. There had never been a time when she'd had this much power before. Not even in middle school when she was the first in her class to develop breasts and all the boys ignored the other girls on the playground to talk to her.

Ryan was not a boy and she was pretty sure looking at her breasts was the least of his plans. There was something about Ryan, about the way that he looked at her, that made her feel sexy.

There was something about him that allowed her to shed the layers of bitchiness she'd adopted a long time ago to help her cope with all the Newport brats. It was refreshing. She'd found someone she could be herself with. And that was sexy.

On Ryan's Top Ten List of Things To Do, shopping had never been first. In fact, it'd never made the list. Then again, he'd never been shopping with Summer Roberts. The girl knew how to shop. And she took it seriously. It was like a sport. It only served to remind him how different they were; that they came from completely different places. She'd already bought up half the clothes in Chino and showed no signs of slowing down.

Summer liked to model for him, twirl around and do a short, seductive variation of the dance that had made her so popular at the bar the other night. And she was driving him fucking insane with all the bloody short tops and barely-there skirts. She was trying to kill him. He was sure of it.

"...thanks. Could you ring these up for me; I just want to try on one last dress," Summer said to the salesclerk. "Ryan, can you come in here a minute? I need a little help," she said as she breezed past him.

Ryan smirked. Sure she did. This could lead to trouble.

He followed anyway.

No sooner had they gotten into the small change room than she had him pinned against the wall, her hands under his shirt, scratching down his abdomen. For a moment he considered her flare for danger, that this, making out in a change room where anyone could catch them, was all part of her journey in thrill seeking but then her leg came up and wrapped itself around him, pressing them intimately close and it didn't matter. If she wanted danger, he was going to give it to her.

Their lips came together in a searing kiss. She tasted like the ice cream he'd watched her eat earlier in the food court with aching, slow licks. Sweet. Rich. Decadent. Just like her. But cool against his hot mouth. Cool and saccharine.

Swallowing her sighs and moans, he kissed her in a way he hadn't kissed anyone in a while...like he meant it. He meant every slide across her lips with his tongue...every dip into her cool mouth...every soft bite on her chin and the length of her neck. He touched her back, lifting her shirt at the base of her spine and finding her flesh warm. She shivered, drew into him. God, she really was killing him. With reluctance, he pulled away.

"Hey," he said, looking at her. He pushed the hair out of her eyes, touching her smooth face and let his fingers linger. Smiling the first truly happy smile he'd had in a long time, Ryan pulled her close. "Happy birthday."

God, she wanted this moment to last forever. It was the best birthday she'd ever had and that was saying a lot considering the extravagance usually equated with her birthdays. But this was special. Ryan was special. And she felt special in his arms.

Nothing could take this away...

There was a knock on the change room door. "Miss Roberts?"

Except that.

She mouthed 'busted' to Ryan and straightened out. There was nothing more embarrassing than being caught dry humping in the middle of a department store. Or so she imagined.

Summer scrunched up her nose. She tried to keep her voice even and steady. "Yes?"

"There's someone here asking for you."

Her stomach dropped. "Okay, thanks. I'll, uh, I'll be out in a minute."

Oh, God. How the hell had she been found? Fuck. The credit cards. She knew using them had been a mistake. Shitshitshit. Her father must have hired someone to find her. Which was surprising considering she'd only been gone a few days. She thought it would take him at least a week to realize she was gone. Still, it gave her a little thrill to know that she'd been missed. And then she looked at Ryan and realized that now she really didn't want to be found.

"It's probably my father," she said quietly to Ryan.

Ryan's face was unreadable. She wished she knew him better so she could gauge his reaction, but he gave nothing away. "What do you want to do?"

Her head was muddled with thoughts and uncertainty. This had been what she wanted, wasn't it? To have her father start to give a crap; to realize she existed. Still, she hadn't planned on meeting Ryan...or falling for him. It had all been a surprise. How could two days change her life so much?

"Summer?"

She bit her lip in concentration. "I don't know."

Ryan took her hand, opened the change room door and walked out into the store, making the decision for her.

Summer's mouth opened, but no sound came out. She'd expected to see her father. His arms open, waiting for her to fall into them and forgive him for being such a jerk. She had been remiss in thinking that. It wasn't her father and it wasn't her step-monster or a relative of any kind. It was her father's secretary, Shirley, waiting by the door.

Shirley smiled warmly at the pair. "Summer. I'm from your father's office, he sent me to collect you."

Collect her? What, was she a fucking trading card all of a sudden?

Summer leaned against a rack of clothes, absently pushing the hangers along the metal poll. She looked as insecure as she felt. "Why didn't he come himself?"

"Summer, you know how busy your father is."

The anger that she'd been harbouring her whole life erupted in the most sincere way. "He sent his secretary! No offence, Shirley," she said her name with distain, rolling her eyes to keep the tears that had gathered there from falling, "but I thought I would at least rate a Private Investigator or something. This is bullshit. Complete bullshit!"

Maybe it was wrong to take it out on someone else, in fact, she knew it was, but she couldn't help it. "He cares, honey." Shirley's hand was pressed against the door, white from the pressure. "In his own way," she added, almost as an afterthought.

"Does he? Because as far as I can tell, all he cares about is money and sex and since I'm no good for either one..." she trailed off, she really didn't know what else there was to say. There was a vent above her head blasting cold air. It cooled Summer right down to her bones and she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

"There's a car waiting outside." Summer looked. Sure enough, there was a stretch limo with a driver in the parking lot. She looked to Ryan, but he was looking at the ground, expression blank.

She shook her head. "I won't go. You can't make me go."

"Summer, dear," Shirley began, sympathetically, then her face clouded with guilt. "I have instructions to call the police for assistance if you don't come willingly. Please don't make me do that. I'll-I'll wait in the car...give you a chance to say good-bye."

Summer looked at the ground, her eyes fixed to a stain in the yellowing carpet.

Ryan cleared his throat beside her. "Maybe it's for the best."

She hadn't heard him approach and now that he was inches away he felt very far off, like she could reach out and he'd disappear. She tugged on his shirt, hoping physical contact could somehow change the look in his eyes and make the ache in her heart stop. "You want me to go? Please, Ryan. Please. Don't let me go."

He took her hand, warmed it, let his thumb pass over her knuckles in soothing strokes. "Summer."

"Ryan."

"You don't belong here. I can't give you what you need. Go." He was trying to spare her; spare her from him and this life. But she didn't want to be spared. She didn't want to be treated like the rich little princess she had been her whole life. She just wanted....she wanted... What did she want?

Dammit, she wanted Ryan. And only Ryan and nothing was as important. Nothing had ever been as important.

"I'll run away again," she whispered instead of being angry; instead of crying. She didn't know how to say what she wanted, so she looked into his eyes, deep down where she saw the splintered parts of herself reflected back and spoke without words.

"I'll be here," he whispered back, just as softly.

He kissed her. Slow. Soft. Sensual. It made her feel grown up. She wasn't the same girl he'd rescued.

"Promise?"

Ryan didn't make promises, somehow she knew that, but for her...for her he'd make an exception. "Promise," he said, adding with a smile, "Princess."

Summer went, reluctantly.

The next time she ran, she knew she'd be running to something instead of running from something. She'd be running to Ryan. She'd be running home.

end.