A.N. Thanks again to Lisa for making my writing better than it was originally. She is not at all responsible for those instances where I have inadvertently strayed from the true canon as revealed in the episodes of the series over the last few months. My theory is that it's better to be consistent internally than to worry about contradicting the series in relatively small matters. You can be sure that she has pointed these errors out to me. Since Anna left Newport in last night's episode, I suppose this story is now mildly AU.
A Bad Monday
12:30 p.m.
The midday California sun blinded Luke as he came out of the Student Union Building. As he waited for his eyes to adjust to the brightness, he enjoyed the warmth that had collected in the courtyard. He knew it was unlikely that he'd find an empty table or anyone willing to let him join them for lunch, but he hated the idea of going back inside on a day like this. So, he scanned the patio for a vacant table or a friendly face. The arm that rammed into his back drove home just how unlikely the latter was.
"Move it! You're blocking the door, bitch."
Cursing under his breath, he regained his balance and turned, throwing a scowl at the three guys in Harbor T-shirts waiting for him to move. God, it was never just one! Why didn't they ever have the guts to say something when they weren't in a pack? He bit back a retort and stepped aside to let the three pass. They swaggered by, giving him appraising looks on their way to a table of girls nearby. The laughter coming from the girls and the looks they cast his way left no doubt that he was the butt of some joke. With a sigh he decided that, no matter what, he wasn't going back into the student union.
As he expected, there were no empty tables, but was there anyone he could sit with? He checked out the tables on the patio and found no welcome. People either ignored him or gave him the "look" - the blank, cold, unfriendly mask most Harbor students turned his way, which was the face of Harbor School that Luke had gotten to know this year.
A quick check of the courtyard's upper terrace revealed no empty tables; however, a slower appraisal showed one occupied table he could join. Rather than taking the long way and avoiding the patio where most students were eating, he chose the most direct route past the table occupied by his fan club. He walked slowly and purposefully, watchful at each step for a foot to suddenly block his path as he made his way across the patio to the nearest steps.
There was only one person seated at the table he was aiming for and its occupant, his head pillowed by his arms, appeared to be asleep. Luke balanced his tray in one hand and attempted to pull the heavy chair out with the other. The chair proved to be heavier than he had anticipated and its legs gave off a metallic screech as he dragged them across the tiles. The sleeper didn't stir. He set the tray down carefully and, using two hands this time, pulled the chair up to the table quietly. The table's uneven legs, made it rock violently when he placed his arm on it.
***
The tires squealed as Seth applied the brakes and Ryan saw that the Rover wouldn't miss the mass of mangled cars and trucks that had appeared so suddenly out of the fog. He braced himself for the impact; but when it came, the jolt was softer than it should have been. There was a moment of confusion and then he was no longer caught in the dream. His blond head came up and his bleary, blue eyes peered around sleepily before fixing on the person seated across the table.
"Sorry, man, I tried not to wake you." Luke took in the paleness, the half-lidded eyes, and the large bruise that discolored much of the left side of Ryan's face. When Summer cornered him this morning to give him the news about Marissa and to rage at Ryan, she hadn't said anything about how bad the guy looked. He wondered if, in her anger, she had even noticed.
Ryan brushed the hair out of his eyes and blinked away the fatigue and the memories that the sound and jolt had awakened for him. Taking a nap had been a bad idea. The warmth of the sun and the pain pill he'd taken before lunch had combined with his history book to produce a cocktail guaranteed to induce sleep. "That's okay. I was having a bad dream anyway." He stretched carefully before picking a french-fry off his plate. He took a bite and dropped the cold, unappetizing remains to the plate. He opened his history book and tried to find the next chapter that he needed to review before his test.
"You still studying? If you don't know it by now, man, you should just hang it up." Luke took a bite out of one of the hamburgers on his plate. He reached across the table and flipped Ryan's history book closed with his free hand. "The test is in like half an hour. You can't learn anything in half an hour, dude! So chill."
Ryan started to reopen the book but Luke pulled it away from him.
"Is any of that the result of your run in with Summer this morning?" The hand holding Luke's fast disappearing burger gestured in the general direction of Ryan's face.
Ryan reached up and rubbed his cheek as Luke leaned forward to inspect his injuries more closely.
"I don't see fresh blood or new bruises forming," Luke continued thoughtfully. "So, I take it that there weren't any sharp instruments or blunt objects involved during your talk with her?" He settled back with a grin. "You lucked out, dude! Don't think you're Summer's first victim at Harbor. If they put up crosses around campus to all the guys who were on the receiving end of one of Summer's tantrums, like they do for car accidents, the campus would look like a friggin cemetery."
Luke reached for his juice as Ryan took another fry, looked at it, and then set it back on his plate. "Hey man, those must be cold by now; have some of mine." Luke pushed half his fries onto Ryan's plate. He surveyed the untouched sandwich on Ryan's tray and the pile of old fries that had only a couple missing. "Looks like you don't have much of an appetite today. What's up with that?"
Ryan ignored his question. As if to prove Luke wrong, he took a couple of the new fries, dipped them in ketchup, and popped them into his mouth "Thanks. Summer told you what happened to Marissa?"
"Yeah. She told me what you said and she wanted me to do something."
"And…" Ryan felt very tired as he waited for Luke's answer.
"I told her you were right. Marissa's sick and maybe getting help somewhere away from Newport is what she needs. Her first therapist was a quack or she'd never have fallen for Oliver's line; and if she used your accident to get shitfaced, then her new one wasn't doing any better." Luke was as serious as Ryan had ever seen him. "I told Summer she should drop it and let Julie - Mrs. Cooper - do what was best for Marissa.
Ryan ignored Luke's slip. "She accepted that?" His voice betrayed his disbelief.
"I'm still alive to tell the tale, man. She must have emptied all her venom sacs into you." Luke smiled as he said it but then turned serious again. "I guess none of us was here for Marissa this weekend. I took my brothers to see dad. It's the first time mom let 'em stay overnight, but she wouldn't let 'em go alone. I had to be there."
"That's a good sign, right? How did it go?" Ryan hoped these were safe questions.
"Yeah, the folks settled the money stuff real fast but the custody and visitation issues have been harder. They seem to drag on and on. Me, I'm so close to 18 Mom lets me decide what I want to do and they don't argue. It's different for Eric and Brad. I hope this trip means mom is ready to move on."
"As for the visit, it was a little awkward at first but the guys settled down and the weekend went great. Dad got courtside seats for the Lakers for Friday and he spent the whole weekend doing stuff with us. It was way more time than we used to get with him before…" Luke didn't finish the thought. "The boys haven't had the same trouble as I've had in school. The kids down in Harbor Middle and Elementary haven't bothered them much. For them, it's just not having dad around that's so hard." Luke paused and looked at the burger still in his hand. "Dad even got a babysitter and took me to a party Saturday night."
Ryan looked up from his notebook and inquired too innocently. "Did he find you a date?"
"Yeah!" Luke said with enthusiasm before noticing Ryan's expression. "The daughter of his sales manager, butthead!"
Ryan smiled and dodged a french-fry aimed at his head.
"Enough with the studying." Luke snatched the notebook out from under Ryan's arm before he could protect it. "How's Seth? How are you and what the hell are you doing here today?"
"Seth's good. He'll be going home in a few days. Me? I came out of the accident okay - just some scrapes and bruises. I'm here today, right?" Ryan hoped Luke wouldn't run into Anna. "I came in for our history test." Ryan wondered which of the arguments he'd already heard would be repeated.
Luke's response surprised him. "If your grade's that bad in history, I guess you know what you're doing. Mr. O'Connell's makeup tests are a bitch. They're like twice as hard as the original test, and the highest grade he ever gives on a makeup is a B. So, you're going home after the test - right? Coach will hate that you're missing practice; but hell, you look like you took on Del Vista all by yourself this time." He shook his head, then smiled. "You always were on the lookout for ways to get out of doing laps. I know you hate always being at the back of the pack - you with your short legs."
"Oh, yeah, and who's running alongside me at the back of the pack?" Ryan asked.
"That was Tim's idea. He thought you could use our company and frankly you guys are better company than…" Luke stopped, tensing as he prepared to dodge any objects that might come his way from Ryan's side of the table. To his surprise, instead of food or cutlery, Ryan held out his hand to him. Warily, alert for traps, Luke took his hand.
"We're even, Luke. I shouldn't have made that dumb joke about your date. Sorry." Ryan didn't know if he preferred Luke thinking he was failing history to him telling him he was an idiot for coming to school today for a test. He did know that Luke didn't deserve having jokes made about his dad, even oblique ones.
Luke released Ryan's hand and frowned. "God, Ryan, what's with the hand of ice? Are you okay?"
"It's nothing. I can't seem to get warm today." Ryan shrugged and put his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt.
"Is that why you still have your sweatshirt on when everyone else is down to their shirt sleeves?
Ryan's attention was drawn away from Luke by the attention he was attracting from some guys at a table on the patio. "I think my fanclub wants some attention."
"Fanclub, what are you talking about?" Luke asked confused by Ryan's statement.
"There's a table of guys down on the patio that have been staring at me for a while. Two of the them are in my English Comp class; and I think one of them had something to say to me in class this morning." At Luke's raised eyebrows he added. "Nothing happened. Anna played peacemaker. But, those guys seem awfully interested in me."
"Is it three guys, all in Harbor t-shirts, at a table with a couple of girls?" Luke asked. At Ryan's agreement, Luke frowned at the possibilities. "I don't think it's only you that they're interested in. I had a little run-in with 'em a while ago on the patio. They seemed to think I was taking up too much space."
Ryan looked puzzled.
"Too much space - like just being alive, I take up too much space."
Ryan nodded "Do you want to do something about 'em?"
Luke looked at Ryan in astonishment. "Do you? I'm not going to be the one who explains to Mrs. Cohen why she's got two kids in the hospital. Besides, I thought you took the pledge?" His question was met by a blank stare. "You promised Dr. Kim no more fighting at school, remember? Seth said you were working toward your six-month coin, just like in NA only without the meetings."
Ryan looked down and swept some crumbs only he could see off the top of the table. "Yeah, you're right." Glancing up and past Luke he saw that the table with their friends was empty now. "They've left anyway. Can I have my notebook back now?"
Luke shook his head and placed his arm very conspicuously on top of the book and notebook. "Like I said, you need to give all that studying time to settle before the test. It seems to me that what you should be doing now is studying for the SATs that are coming up. My folks bought all these books and computer programs to help me study for them. I can loan them to you if you want.
Ryan stared down at his plate and then pushed the tray away. "Thanks for the offer, but I haven't decided if I'm going to take them again."
"Again? You took them as a sophomore? Big deal, so you take them again and improve your score. Lots of people do it. Chip's older brother took them six times and never cracked 1100. Was his old man ever pissed." Luke smiled at the memory. "Cohen said you were both signed up for the same day as me. Go for it! What have you got to lose?" Luke watched Ryan. He'd said nothing as Luke talked and given no indication that he'd heard anything Luke said.
"I told them I didn't want to take them. They complain that I never talk to them but when I say something they don't like they don't hear me."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Ryan. If they're paid for, you should take them. If your score doesn't go up, you pretend it never happened. Why make a big deal about it? What's going on, Chino?"
Ryan smiled sourly and didn't meet Luke's eyes. People always called him Chino when he didn't act according to their notion of what was best for him. It was like they thought of him as two different people: Ryan, who obeyed the norms of Newport society and Chino, who did unpredictable, self-destructive, violent things. "They're a waste of my time; college, for me, isn't realistic; and even two good years at Harbor won't make up for the last two years. Finally, where would the money for college come from?" Ryan rattled off his answers rapidly as though he'd been rehearsing them to himself for a long time.
Luke leaned back in his chair and considered Ryan's situation before replying. "The Cohens…." The look on Ryan's face made him hesitate. "They're paying a lot of money to send you here. They might pay for college, too."
"How should I handle that, Luke?" Ryan asked. "Do I tell them I want to go to college and see if they offer to pay; or do I wait until I've been accepted somewhere and then hit them up for the cash? You're right. They're good people but they've never talked about what comes after . . . after I turn 18. They're only responsible until then. After that, I'm on my own. Maybe they don't think I'll make it here that long. Sometimes, I don't think all this will last 'til I'm 18." He looked out toward the green hills and the ocean beyond. "They say I'm part of their family now and some days it feels like it's true. At other times, it feels like nothing has changed since Sandy first brought me home."
"You could just ask them." Luke offered hesitantly.
The idea of Ryan initiating such a conversation left both of them quiet and thoughtful.
Finally, Ryan replied. "You mean I should say to them that I've been thinking about my future and wondering if they want to be a part of it? What if I'm afraid of what their answer will be? Can I even believe their answer if I hit them cold with the question? They might think it's about all this." Ryan made a sweeping gesture that seemed to take in everything about his new life. "Do I ask it anyway or go on like everything is cool?" Ryan's eyes were shiny and he rubbed at them with a fist as though tired. "God, I hate pain pills!"
Luke gave him a puzzled look.
"I stopped at the nurse's office before lunch to get one . . . Sandy left 'em for me. They just weird me out."
Luke stared at his friend and then decided to go for broke. "Man, you've got to talk to them – talk to Seth at least! You'll fry a circuit if you keep making yourself crazy with questions and doubts." He took a breath and continued. "My dad told me last fall that telling the truth and knowing the truth always make you feel better in the end. I didn't see then how that could be true. I think I do now. What you've got to do is talk to them, and then talk some more, and then, when you feel like you're going to puke your guts out if you say one more thing, talk some more."
Ryan smiled weakly and shook his head. "Luke, I don't think there're enough pain pills in the world."
Luke ignored his interruption. "If the Cohens don't know what's going on inside that thick skull of yours, they don't know what the problem is or even that there is a problem." Luke finally ran out of talk and stopped, both abashed and embarrassed by his outburst. He risked a look at Ryan's face and found an unreadable mask.
The boys settled into an uncomfortable silence. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Luke remarked. "Well, that's interesting!" There was something in his tone that caused Ryan to lift his eyes to look at him. "I mean, I haven't seen Tim Lockhart laugh in over a year and there he is – laughing."
Luke pointed to a table behind Ryan, who swiveled around in his chair to see. A small, knowing smile softened his icy mask.
Tim Lockhart was not only laughing but also apparently saying something funny in turn because the girl sharing his table was laughing, too. Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan noticed Luke waving wildly at Tim to get his attention.
Tim noticed Luke, smiled and pointed toward the table where the two boys were sitting. Anna turned, smiled and returned Luke's wave good-naturedly.
To Ryan, who was grinning broadly now, she gave a small shrug and mouthed silently - you were right.
Luke started to ask Ryan about Anna when he caught sight of the time on the clock at the end of the patio. "We've got to go, brother." He pushed Ryan's book and notebook back across the table to him. At the return of Ryan's gloomy expression, Luke chuckled and recited,
"Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred."
Ryan gave Luke a bemused look and began to smile. "Do I look that worried?"
Luke shrugged. "It's the only thing I remember that seemed right for the occasion. Ryan, you can thank, or blame, my ninth grade English teacher who gave extra credit for memorizing stuff. Your mood usually ranges from reserved to somber. Since you seemed to be trying for a new, darker adjective today, I thought it might get a laugh out of you. Besides, I like how it sounds."
Ryan was still smiling as they passed Tim and Anna's table. He nodded at Tim and winked at Anna.
They were almost to their classroom when it occurred to Luke that Ryan hadn't said how he was getting home from school. "Ryan, you didn't say how you were getting home after history. Who's taking you? Do you need a ride?"
Ryan walked on a few steps before answering. "I'm not going home after the test. I'm finishing out the day. Sandy's picking me up."
Luke stopped and Ryan was forced to stop as well or be rude. "You're passing up the get-out-of-school-free card to stick around here for two more hours? Did they check you for brain damage at the hospital?
"I had a big discussion with the Cohens about coming today and I don't want them to worry about me. Life goes on - I'll be back tomorrow like usual. I'll feel better tomorrow." Ryan waited warily for Luke's response but he said nothing to this only stared at Ryan for a moment.
"Man, I'll have to catch up with you at class. I've got to make a stop before the test." Luke walked off toward the men's restrooms. As Ryan headed on to class, Luke pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and dialed.
Ryan paused before he entered the door and muttered under his breath, "Excelsior!".
A.N. It's been a long time since I read "Excelsior" but its nameless hero reminds me of Ryan. In case it's been a long time for you too, here it is.
Excelsior
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The shades of night were falling fast,
As through an Alpine village passed
A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice,
A banner with the strange device,
Excelsior!
His brow was sad; his eye beneath
Flashed like a falchion from its sheath,
And like a silver clarion rung
The accents of that unknown tongue,
Excelsior!
In happy homes he saw the light
Of household fires gleam warm and bright;
Above, the spectral glaciers shone,
And from his lips escaped a groan,
Excelsior!
"Try not the Pass," the old man said;
"Dark lours the tempest overhead,
The roaring torrent is deep and wide!"
And loud that clarion voice replied,
Excelsior!
"O stay," the maiden said, "and rest
Thy weary head upon this breast!"
A tear stood in his bright blue eye,
But still he answered, with a sigh,
Excelsior!
"Beware the pine-tree's withered branch!
Beware the awful avalanche!"
This was the peasant's last Good-night.
A voice replied, far up the height,
Excelsior!
At break of day, as heavenward
The pious monks of Saint Bernard
Uttered the oft-repeated prayer,
A voice cried through the startled air,
Excelsior!
A traveller, by the faithful hound,
Half-buried in the snow was found,
Still grasping in his hands of ice
That banner with the strange device,
Excelsior!
There in the twilight cold and gray,
Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay,
And from the sky, serene and far,
A voice fell, like a falling star,
Excelsior!