Author's Note: Guess what I was eating while writing the last chapter? grins Ah, I didn't even want to write another chapter, I'm so lazy. But also so bored. Here's another thousand words for y'all to review. Thanks! :o)
Still don't own The O.C. (watch out though, Josh!)
XXX
It wasn't that Summer couldn't stop crying, it was that every time she came close to calming down she would look up and see Seth, who looked panicked and afraid, and Marissa, unconscious and hooked up to too many machines. And seeing their faces, maybe not even seeing their faces, just knowing that they were there and that the world she had tried so hard to create as "normal" was burning before her eyes. She was wrapped in the arms of someone who wasn't even her boyfriend anymore. She stared at the lifeless body of her best friend. She breathed in the hospital scent- the one that used to comfort her unlike any other, the one that now resembled gasoline and dead fish. It was as everything was it's opposite. Seth wanting her and not having her. Marissa being the life of every party. Comfort filling her as she smelled the hospital. It was all the opposite now. It was as if her white world crossed over to the dark side- a sickening gray area that tore her existence into pieces.
It was the same way she felt when Luke was fucking Julie Cooper. Damn it! Julie Cooper, where are you now? Now that you're daughter is dying? On one hand, Summer realized that by calling Julie as well as Jimmy, that she risked having her best friend sent to an institution. The facts stacked against her, Summer still believed Marissa was okay. The other hand told Summer that Julie Cooper- excuse her, Nichol- needed to know that her eldest daughter overdosed on coke. While on a vacation to New York. A vacation Julie invited her to. A vacation that Julie ran away from on the first concorde to Paris.
Summer finally got up her courage and pulled herself off of Seth. Her vision was still a little blurry but the convulsing sobs had stopped. They stopped and Summer was breathing again. She was unsure of herself now- no longer the arrogant, brilliant, beautiful Summer Roberts. Now, she was just Summer. The girl whose eyes hurt from crying, whose best friend lay in a hospital bed again, who felt sick to her stomach wishing that they could just rewind 12 months. She stood up too quickly and blackness dotted her sight. Who cared? It was just Marissa and twenty zillion IVs.
But it was still Marissa. And that was the catch to everything right now. To why she was in the hospital. To why she was in New York. God, Marissa, isn't it enough that the world revolved around you for sixteen years? A dark bitter taste formed in Summer's mouth, but she swallowed it quickly. Marissa might have been the center of Newport's world for many years, but she was also Summer's true blue, LYLAS saying, to the moon and back best friend. If Anna had been the Rose to Summer's Blanche, then Marissa was definitely the Elizabeth to her Jessica. Sigh, the days when they discussed the latest Sweet Valley books. When did they end?
Placing a hand on Marissa's face, Summer was astonished at how cold her friend's skin was. It was also pale and at the moment semi-translucent. If you tried hard enough, you could really see the blood flowing through her arteries and veins. Her father once told her that the patients that recovered the fastest were the once that were most loved. It was a glitch of science and the perfection of human nature. So that's what Summer was doing. Transmitting all the love that had built up for over a decade of friendship- Little Mermaid blankets, Rainbow Brite lunchboxes, shoes that lit up when you walked, knee-socks and Clueless, lip syncing to Nsync, buying bras, getting their periods- everything two girls could go through together. You're my true blue, Sum. Love you like a sister, Coop. Love you to the moon and back. And back again.
"Coop." She whispered urgently.
But Marissa didn't hear.
XXX
Kirsten was beginning to worry about Ryan and Theresa, but she didn't dare go look for them. They deserved their time together and Kirsten was slightly relieved that Theresa wasn't fuming over the fact that Ryan came. Ah, young love. Kirsten could too vividly remember the romantic gestured exchanged by her and Sandy at the beginning of their relationship.
But then again, Ryan and Theresa weren't at the beginning of their relationship either. When Kirsten first met Ryan, she was overly concerned about his status as a criminal. But when they first sat down to dinner together and she looked into his eyes, she saw someone older than herself. He moved in a soul that lived a thousand lives just like his. You could see pain endured and hope lost, in his eyes. And in Theresa's? You could see that now. Losing the baby took away every hope she ever had. And letting Ryan slip and fade and melt into something that wasn't hers. Even Kirsten's heart hurt, as the two looked at each other. In their gaze was longing, betrayal, hurt, fear, need and love. Love. Love. Kirsten loved her sons. She loved her husband. But the strength, determination and immortality of Ryan and Theresa's love? It was epic.
The ringing chased away her thoughts, hurriedly, she answered, hoping it was Sandy. Just thinking about epic loves made her need to hear his voice.
"Mom? Mom!" it was Seth. He was in a panic.
"Seth, honey? What's wrong?"
"Marissa's overdosed-"
"Again?" It sounded rude, but sometimes words didn't necessarily get processed by the brain.
"Yeah. We're in the emergency room with her." Seth hesitated. "Can you come?"
"Yes." Once again with the lack of brain processing on words.
"Thanks."
XXX
"Hey Ry.." Theresa said dazed to the wall. "Remember when I turned fifteen?" She was still on his lap in front of the nursery, but they had long stopped staring at the babies. First of all, it was much too hard for both of them and second, well they just liked being like that. Why was it that their most innocent moments of caring, happened when she sat on his lap?
"Your quincañera? " he replied, referring to the large celebration her family had. In the Latin community, turning fifteen was the equivalent of an American's sweet sixteen, but even grander. Theresa's hadn't been the biggest or most expensive, but her backyard was filled with tea candles and Christmas lights and amazing food and of course, many dressed up people.
"Remember what I said when you asked what I wished for?" she was still staring at the wall, but his hands had moved from her waist, where they held her steady, to her shoulders, which he drew lazy circles upon.
He squinted for a moment, though she couldn't see, in thought. And in his mind, he was fifteen again, in Trey's dress pants and his nicest button down shirt, with a tie stolen from his mom's boyfriend. There was a paper plate of white cake with lavender frosting in his hands and an overwhelming sweetness in his throat. He stared at all the happy friends and families around, realizing that he hated parties. He tried to remember the last real party that was celebrated for him and a Rollodex of images flashed before his eyes.
And then he saw her. Hair pulled up in a fancy twist, eyes darkened by eye liner and shadow, lips thick and pouty covered in expensive lipstick. Her mama had outdone herself with the dress though, it was hand beaded organza. A minuet of lavender, white and silver dancing on the delicate curves of Theresa's body and drowning in the length and fullness of her skirt. It was like Marissa at cotillion, except better. Theresa was real and earthy and home. And when she finally stole away from all her guests to spend a minute with Ryan, they shared a secret and a kiss.
"That we'd both get out of Chino and live happily ever after." The words left Ryan's lips just as Theresa began to fear that he wouldn't remember their secret. On one of her most important days she wished not only for herself but for him. He owed her a lifetime of thanks because it had almost come true for him. And that's why he didn't hesitate to go back to Chino with her- she made it so he could get there, he owed her to come back.
"It's coming true, right?" she asked, finally turning her head to his. He didn't notice the bruises anymore, he didn't notice the hospital or the wheelchair, the nursery or the sickeningly white hallway. He looked into her dark eyes and saw his own reflection. He didn't answer. He didn't need to.
He leaned in and touched his lips to hers. Perhaps the gray was brightening, aspiring for silver and inching its way there. Closing her eyes, she kissed him back. And just as the silver was within reach a voice rang out from down the hall.
"Ahem! Seth called from New York. Marissa just overdosed."
Return of the gray.
Still don't own The O.C. (watch out though, Josh!)
XXX
It wasn't that Summer couldn't stop crying, it was that every time she came close to calming down she would look up and see Seth, who looked panicked and afraid, and Marissa, unconscious and hooked up to too many machines. And seeing their faces, maybe not even seeing their faces, just knowing that they were there and that the world she had tried so hard to create as "normal" was burning before her eyes. She was wrapped in the arms of someone who wasn't even her boyfriend anymore. She stared at the lifeless body of her best friend. She breathed in the hospital scent- the one that used to comfort her unlike any other, the one that now resembled gasoline and dead fish. It was as everything was it's opposite. Seth wanting her and not having her. Marissa being the life of every party. Comfort filling her as she smelled the hospital. It was all the opposite now. It was as if her white world crossed over to the dark side- a sickening gray area that tore her existence into pieces.
It was the same way she felt when Luke was fucking Julie Cooper. Damn it! Julie Cooper, where are you now? Now that you're daughter is dying? On one hand, Summer realized that by calling Julie as well as Jimmy, that she risked having her best friend sent to an institution. The facts stacked against her, Summer still believed Marissa was okay. The other hand told Summer that Julie Cooper- excuse her, Nichol- needed to know that her eldest daughter overdosed on coke. While on a vacation to New York. A vacation Julie invited her to. A vacation that Julie ran away from on the first concorde to Paris.
Summer finally got up her courage and pulled herself off of Seth. Her vision was still a little blurry but the convulsing sobs had stopped. They stopped and Summer was breathing again. She was unsure of herself now- no longer the arrogant, brilliant, beautiful Summer Roberts. Now, she was just Summer. The girl whose eyes hurt from crying, whose best friend lay in a hospital bed again, who felt sick to her stomach wishing that they could just rewind 12 months. She stood up too quickly and blackness dotted her sight. Who cared? It was just Marissa and twenty zillion IVs.
But it was still Marissa. And that was the catch to everything right now. To why she was in the hospital. To why she was in New York. God, Marissa, isn't it enough that the world revolved around you for sixteen years? A dark bitter taste formed in Summer's mouth, but she swallowed it quickly. Marissa might have been the center of Newport's world for many years, but she was also Summer's true blue, LYLAS saying, to the moon and back best friend. If Anna had been the Rose to Summer's Blanche, then Marissa was definitely the Elizabeth to her Jessica. Sigh, the days when they discussed the latest Sweet Valley books. When did they end?
Placing a hand on Marissa's face, Summer was astonished at how cold her friend's skin was. It was also pale and at the moment semi-translucent. If you tried hard enough, you could really see the blood flowing through her arteries and veins. Her father once told her that the patients that recovered the fastest were the once that were most loved. It was a glitch of science and the perfection of human nature. So that's what Summer was doing. Transmitting all the love that had built up for over a decade of friendship- Little Mermaid blankets, Rainbow Brite lunchboxes, shoes that lit up when you walked, knee-socks and Clueless, lip syncing to Nsync, buying bras, getting their periods- everything two girls could go through together. You're my true blue, Sum. Love you like a sister, Coop. Love you to the moon and back. And back again.
"Coop." She whispered urgently.
But Marissa didn't hear.
XXX
Kirsten was beginning to worry about Ryan and Theresa, but she didn't dare go look for them. They deserved their time together and Kirsten was slightly relieved that Theresa wasn't fuming over the fact that Ryan came. Ah, young love. Kirsten could too vividly remember the romantic gestured exchanged by her and Sandy at the beginning of their relationship.
But then again, Ryan and Theresa weren't at the beginning of their relationship either. When Kirsten first met Ryan, she was overly concerned about his status as a criminal. But when they first sat down to dinner together and she looked into his eyes, she saw someone older than herself. He moved in a soul that lived a thousand lives just like his. You could see pain endured and hope lost, in his eyes. And in Theresa's? You could see that now. Losing the baby took away every hope she ever had. And letting Ryan slip and fade and melt into something that wasn't hers. Even Kirsten's heart hurt, as the two looked at each other. In their gaze was longing, betrayal, hurt, fear, need and love. Love. Love. Kirsten loved her sons. She loved her husband. But the strength, determination and immortality of Ryan and Theresa's love? It was epic.
The ringing chased away her thoughts, hurriedly, she answered, hoping it was Sandy. Just thinking about epic loves made her need to hear his voice.
"Mom? Mom!" it was Seth. He was in a panic.
"Seth, honey? What's wrong?"
"Marissa's overdosed-"
"Again?" It sounded rude, but sometimes words didn't necessarily get processed by the brain.
"Yeah. We're in the emergency room with her." Seth hesitated. "Can you come?"
"Yes." Once again with the lack of brain processing on words.
"Thanks."
XXX
"Hey Ry.." Theresa said dazed to the wall. "Remember when I turned fifteen?" She was still on his lap in front of the nursery, but they had long stopped staring at the babies. First of all, it was much too hard for both of them and second, well they just liked being like that. Why was it that their most innocent moments of caring, happened when she sat on his lap?
"Your quincañera? " he replied, referring to the large celebration her family had. In the Latin community, turning fifteen was the equivalent of an American's sweet sixteen, but even grander. Theresa's hadn't been the biggest or most expensive, but her backyard was filled with tea candles and Christmas lights and amazing food and of course, many dressed up people.
"Remember what I said when you asked what I wished for?" she was still staring at the wall, but his hands had moved from her waist, where they held her steady, to her shoulders, which he drew lazy circles upon.
He squinted for a moment, though she couldn't see, in thought. And in his mind, he was fifteen again, in Trey's dress pants and his nicest button down shirt, with a tie stolen from his mom's boyfriend. There was a paper plate of white cake with lavender frosting in his hands and an overwhelming sweetness in his throat. He stared at all the happy friends and families around, realizing that he hated parties. He tried to remember the last real party that was celebrated for him and a Rollodex of images flashed before his eyes.
And then he saw her. Hair pulled up in a fancy twist, eyes darkened by eye liner and shadow, lips thick and pouty covered in expensive lipstick. Her mama had outdone herself with the dress though, it was hand beaded organza. A minuet of lavender, white and silver dancing on the delicate curves of Theresa's body and drowning in the length and fullness of her skirt. It was like Marissa at cotillion, except better. Theresa was real and earthy and home. And when she finally stole away from all her guests to spend a minute with Ryan, they shared a secret and a kiss.
"That we'd both get out of Chino and live happily ever after." The words left Ryan's lips just as Theresa began to fear that he wouldn't remember their secret. On one of her most important days she wished not only for herself but for him. He owed her a lifetime of thanks because it had almost come true for him. And that's why he didn't hesitate to go back to Chino with her- she made it so he could get there, he owed her to come back.
"It's coming true, right?" she asked, finally turning her head to his. He didn't notice the bruises anymore, he didn't notice the hospital or the wheelchair, the nursery or the sickeningly white hallway. He looked into her dark eyes and saw his own reflection. He didn't answer. He didn't need to.
He leaned in and touched his lips to hers. Perhaps the gray was brightening, aspiring for silver and inching its way there. Closing her eyes, she kissed him back. And just as the silver was within reach a voice rang out from down the hall.
"Ahem! Seth called from New York. Marissa just overdosed."
Return of the gray.