A Bad Monday
7:00 am
The smell of coffee brewing filled the kitchen as Ryan came in through the door from the patio. God is good, Ryan thought. Maybe caffeine would dissolve the gunk clogging up his brain. He set his backpack down on one of the counter stools and checked out the water level in the coffeemaker. Maybe thirty seconds, he guessed. He resisted the urge to replace the carafe with his mug. I like coffee. I am not addicted to coffee!
The coffee was ready now. He poured himself a mug and savored another of the benefits of his new life, really good coffee. How could anything so good be bad for you?
He didn't want to start the day thinking about addictions or if addictive behavior was hereditary. It had been a perverse fate that had caused his thirteen-year-old self to pull "The Roots of Addiction" off the shelf that day in the library. The book had given him far more information about addiction than he wanted. It was bad enough now that he thought he saw all the telltale signs in Marissa. He avoided dwelling on the possibility that he might be destined to follow his mom and dad down the same dark path.
Usually the books in the library had been his friends; and whenever things had spun out of control at home, its reading room had been his refuge. From the end of school until the library's closing time, unless sports or some school activity provided him with a legitimate excuse to stay away, nothing else claimed his out of school hours until he discovered girls. Dawn hardly noticed his absences and Trey only smiled broadly and winked when he happened to be home and Ryan got in late.
He smiled as he sipped his coffee. If he'd spent as much time on homework as he had reading in the Chino Public Library his grades would have been as impressive as the test scores that attracted Sandy's attention. He had coasted through school. Everything had been easy for him and he'd done only enough to keep himself off the radar screens of his school counselors. Neither gifted, nor in need of remedial work, Ryan Atwood slipped through school in stealth mode, unnoticed and unremarked.
A second handful of cereal and some juice made a start at satisfying his hunger. Sandy came through the door of the kitchen with the morning paper just as Ryan was pouring himself a second mug.
"Did you leave any for me?" Sandy asked eyeing the mug in Ryan's hand. Ryan smiled, filled Sandy a mug and handed it to him.
"I talked to Kirsten this morning, Ryan --"
"How's Seth? Is everything ok?" Ryan interrupted. His eyes serious and focused on Sandy.
"Yes, Seth's fine. We talked about you."
Ryan blinked in confusion and stared down into his mug. His hands wrapped around it as though needing the warmth to chase away a chill.
"We know Seth's being taken care of. What we're worried about is how well we're taking care of you. Did you get any sleep last night? I know you haven't slept much since the accident. I've seen the lights in the poolhouse going on and off at all hours of the night. I've heard your voice, shouting, during what I guess were nightmares, when I've come down to check on you. So, how are you?"
"You must not have been getting much sleep yourself if you know all that. But . . . I took one of the sleeping pills they gave me last night and slept like a rock. Everything is cool today." Ryan continued to stare into his mug and avoided meeting Sandy's eyes. "Besides, I have a history test today that I can't miss. Shouldn't we be going. I need to be there by 7:30 or 7:45 at the latest.
Sandy sighed as he placed his empty mug on the counter. "Ryan, neither Kirsten nor I think you should go in. We'll handle school. You've suffered a trauma that's more serious than a bruised and aching body. It would have taken very little for that accident to go differently and both of you boys would be in the hospital, or worse. Take a day off and get your head together."
"If I don't go to school, can I go to the hospital?"
"No. Kirsten and I want you to rest. Sit by the pool. Soak up some sun. You can go to the hospital in the afternoon. But you can't spend the day there." Sandy's tone was firm.
"Thanks, but no thanks." Ryan finished the last of his coffee. He looked longingly at the carafe as though considering finishing off the last of the coffee. Finally, after a quick glance at the clock, he sighed and carried their mugs to the sink. As he rinsed them he thought about how to explain so Sandy would understand.
"I'd skip school for Seth but not to have 'me time.' You . . . Kirsten . . . Dr. Kim . . . everyone keeps telling me how much work I need to make up to stay at Harbor. So, no." He placed the mugs in the dishwasher and straightened up slowly. "We need to go if I'm not gonna be late for school." Without waiting for a response, Ryan grabbed his backpack and headed out to the garage.
Sandy stared after him for a moment before picking up the unread newspaper and following him out of the kitchen. He tossed the newspaper into his briefcase lying open on the dining room table, checked his cellphone, and walked slowly to the garage.
Ryan was already in the passenger seat of the BMW when Sandy arrived and slid into the driver's seat. He glanced at Ryan and paused, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel, making no move to start the car. Ryan caught the look and sheepishly pulled his seatbelt across his chest and fastened it with a snap.
"Sorry."