Thanks for all the great reviews. They keep me writing a story that's more difficult for me to write than I imagined. But I'm enjoying it. The usual disclaimers apply. OC doesn't belong to me. But it does belong to Fox Josh Schwartz and his encourage. Enjoy and don't forget to review.
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"Need a lighter?" Mitch asked as he put down his bag of X and dug around his pocket and pulled out a half-smoked joint.
Seth nodded and took the joint from Mitch's outstretched hand. He bent down, letting Mitch light it and then leaned against the wall to let the marijuana take its desired effect. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply holding the smoke in his mouth. Maybe he'd ask Ryan to show him how to make smoke rings with his cigarettes, Seth thought. Then he remembered Ryan was trying to quit smoking as per Sandy and Kirsten's request. And Ryan hadn't been thrilled with Seth's first experimentation with drugs. No telling how he'd react if he knew it wasn't a one-time thing for Seth.
He used his leg to kick off the wall and ambled to Mitch's other side. He was among a group of kids, that he seemed to know, but Seth did not recognize. They weren't from Harbor or the inner circle of Newport. Seth wondered where his friend had hooked up with them. They were standing around, with beers in their hands, shooting the breeze. Looking at their beer, Seth's throat was suddenly parched and all he could think of was where could he find a Mountain Dew.
Ryan sat on the couch, with one hand swung over the back of the couch, resting on Marissa's shoulders and the other hand tightly grasping a baby monitor. They heard Sandy and Kirsten walk in, leaving them only enough time to jump a couple of inches apart, even though they weren't doing anything wrong.
Kirsten walked in, her head resting lightly on Sandy's shoulder. They were both smiling, a relaxed look on their faces that Ryan had not seen since before the baby was born. Sandy had been right to insist his wife take a night off. Suddenly, Ryan didn't mind being strong-armed into babysitting. But the content look quickly evaporated from his adoptive parents' faces when they saw Marissa sitting on the couch next to him.
"Ryan, can I talk to you for a minute?" Sandy's voice was razor sharp.
"Sure," said Ryan not letting his apprehension show. He handed the baby monitor to Kirsten and said, "She's been sleeping like an angel for the last half hour. She ate right before she fell asleep and I changed her diaper a little before that."
"Thank you, Ryan."
Marissa stood up and took her purse. "I better get home. I told my mom I wouldn't be too late."
"Do you need a ride?" Kirsten asked.
"No. Thank you. I brought my car." Marissa pecked Ryan on the cheek and waved good-bye to the Cohens and left them alone.
"I thought we told you no girls," Sandy said, not trying to conceal his anger. "Where are Seth and Summer? Up in their room?"
"Summer didn't come." Ryan said quietly. "It was only Marissa."
"So where's Seth?" Kirsten asked. "Up in his room? In the pool house?"
Ryan chewed on his bottom lip until he tasted blood. He studied his shoes intently, hoping to avoid the answer.
"You heard your mother," Sandy said. "Where's Seth?"
Ryan's head jerked up, as if ice-cold water had been splashed in his face. Sandy and Kirsten usually didn't refer to themselves as his mother and father. It was like a little dance they did, to spare his feelings, because he still felt attached to Dawn and Roger.
"Seth's not here," he finally said in a barely audible whisper.
He had intended to cover for Seth, but he knew that either Sandy or Kirsten would eventually go up to the room and check to see if Seth was with Summer. He would make it worse for everyone by lying. Perhaps if he disguised the truth with a small white lie, he could still save Seth's butt. Not that his brother deserved it.
"So where is he?" Kirsten demanded, irritation creeping into his voice. The content, relaxed look evaporated. Her shoulders were slumped and the lines under her eyes and around her mouth were returning.
"His friend Mitch called. It was an emergency. He didn't go into details —" Seth would have to do some of his own tap dancing upon his return home — "But it sounded pretty urgent."
"But he's grounded," Kirsten cried.
"I know. He knows. But he knew you'd understand. Mitch was in really bad shape. It sounded like he needed someone bad."
"So he just left you here alone with Christina?"
"Yes. That's when I called Marissa. I'm sorry. I just needed some help."
"Why didn't you call us?" asked Sandy.
"I didn't want to ruin your night out. It's not like you ever go out anymore."
He saw from the looks on their faces that they weren't buying his story. So he was surprised when Kirsten said, "Sandy, he did the best that he could. We'll talk to Seth when he gets in."
"Any idea when he'll be home?" Sandy asked.
Ryan shook his head.
"He didn't take the car," observed Kirsten. She sat down on the sofa and peeled off her heels, massaging her aching feet. "How'd he get there?"
"His skateboard," Ryan said quietly.
"Sounds like it was a real emergency," Sandy said, sarcasm dripping.
Kirsten put an appeasing hand on her husband's arm. "It's not Ryan's fault. Although," she said, turning a stern eye on him, "you shouldn't be lying for him. We've had this conversation before, about the two of you covering for each other."
Ryan's face flushed red.
"I'm going upstairs to check on the baby." Kirsten stood, holding her shoes in one hand and the baby monitor on the other. "Thanks for babysitting Ryan. I really appreciate it."
"Anytime."
Ryan wanted to follow Kirsten up the stairs and escape to his room, but Sandy grabbed his arm. He looked down at Sandy's hand, feeling a tightening in his chest. No one had touched him like that since he had lived with his mother. He knew that Sandy would never hit him, but Ryan could sense Sandy's fury with just a touch.
"It's not like Seth to abandon his responsibilities."
Ryan wondered if Sandy had noticed Seth at all lately. For a few minutes, earlier that evening, the old Seth had returned, but that Seth hadn't been around for a while. In his entire life Seth had probably never cut school before this year, and Ryan knew he had covered for him at least once. Seth had never tried drugs before the other night. It was true the old Seth would never have walked out on Ryan and his responsibility the way he had, but that Seth was slowly disappearing.
"No it isn't," Ryan agreed. His stomach grumbled. He realized he had forgotten to eat dinner because he had been so busy with the baby. Once she had fallen asleep, he had been too tired to think about food. And then there was Marissa to keep him company.
"Did you eat?" Sandy asked, not missing the rumble.
Ryan shook his head.
"I'm sure we can scare up a sandwich." He motioned for Ryan to follow him into the kitchen. It looked to Ryan like some of the Sandy's anger had dissipated.
"If you and Kirsten want to go out again, I'd be happy to baby-sit again."
"Thanks," Sandy said, his head buried in the fridge looking for the ingredients of a sandwich. "I don't think I'll be able to get Kirsten out that easily."
Ryan chewed on his sore lip again.
"I'm sorry I broke your trust."
Sandy pulled his head out of the fridge and contemplated Ryan. "I trust you. I trusted you tonight with one of the most precious things to me. I know you didn't mean to do anything wrong tonight."
"But you wouldn't take Kirsten out again."
"If I can. I will." Sandy took a knife out of the drawer and lathered mayonnaise onto a slice of rye bread.
"I'm not mad at you, Ryan. Neither is Kirsten."
"You both sounded pretty pissed."
"We were. We'll get past it. We're a lot angrier with Seth."
"He didn't mean anything by it. His friend —"
Sandy cut him off. "Let Seth make up his own excuses." He finished assembling the sandwich and handed it to Ryan. "Eat."
Seth was feeling giddy. All thoughts of Ryan, his parents, Hope, school, had disappeared from is mind. He had smoked the joint until it was barely a stub much to Mitch's surprise. Everything was making Seth laugh. But not the heat. It was hot and stuffy in the warehouse. The press of bodies only made things worse. He tugged at Mitch's shirt and told his friend he was going to get some air. As Seth pressed through the crowd he sensed his friend following him.
"It was getting lame," Mitch offered as they reached the parking lot.
"Lame. Blame. Hades. It was hot as Hades in there."
"You're cracked man."
"No. You're cracked. You were the one doing the crack. I'm - I'm just smoking the weed." Seth gulped a breath of fresh air. "Let's get out of here."
"And do what?" asked Mitch.
"I noticed a can of spray paint in your car."
"Yeah?"
"Well look behind you," Seth said, pointing to the graffiti behind him. "It's a travesty. Ocean County youth has defaced the walls and natural resources of this county and they don't even have the decency to do it grammatically correct."
"I snorted too much coke. I'm not following you."
Seth skipped to the car and yanked open the front door. He rummaged around the foot of the front seat where he had noticed the can of paint. He found it and triumphantly held it up in the air for Mitch to see.
"I may be high as a kite, but I still have my marbles."
"If you ever had your marbles," said Mitch.
"Whatever."
Seth went back to the warehouse and stopped at the outer wall. "Richie is a freek. They can't even spell." He shook the can and sprayed a line through freek and corrected to it to freak.
Mitch guffawed, as he understood what Seth was up to. "There's got to be more. Plenty more where that came from."
They walked around together, studying the graffiti, looking for grammatical mistakes.
"Here. Here. Here," pointed Seth, like a child who'd just arrived at their favorite ride in an amusement park.
Sara Waz here.
"Can you believe these fools?" Mitch said. "They can't even spell a misspelling correctly." He took the can from Seth, shook it hard and crossed out "waz" and wrote "wuz" and then crossed that out and wrote "was".
They hit two walls of the warehouse, crossing out all the graffiti with grammatical errors, before the paint ran out.
"That was rich," Mitch said, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.
"We should try this again."
"We should hit street signs next time. Those are chock full of grammar errors."
"It's a date." Seth was coming down from his high. "Let's go eat, I'm starved."
It was three a.m. before Seth stumbled through the front door. It was dark in the foyer, but Seth didn't turn on the light. He groped his way through the black hall and made it to the foot of the steps when he bumped into a stocky figure.
"Good Morning Dad."
Sandy leaned over the railing and switched on the light. Seth shielded his eyes from the sudden glow. He didn't meet his father's steely gaze.
"Get your ass to bed. We'll talk in the morning."