"Out of Season"
Part 19
By Sister Rose
Standard disclaimer applies
For almost a week, Ryan Atwood and Summer Roberts played house and pretended the world outside didn't exist.
Each morning, he went to get a newspaper to search the classifieds. They drank orange juice in bed while they read possibilities together. He would call on the most promising ones while she stayed at the room and cleaned or painted her nails. Then he worked the lunch shift at the diner before returning to the room.In the evenings, he cooked for them on his hot plate while she read aloud from a book she had been assigned for class. At night they had sex until they fell asleep.
Ryan cherished the routine. He was happier than he had ever been and he even started allowing himself to hope it would last.
Summer seemed happy, too. Ryan could tell, because she complained a lot. That was one of the things he liked about his girl. When things weren't going well, Summer wouldn't say a word. When things were, Summer bitched.
And things must have been going really, really well.
By Tuesday, Ryan's sandwich diet had palled on Summer's palate. No more grilled cheese or peanut butter, she decreed. Ryan got her some fruit from the grocery store. Overpriced strawberries, heavy on the green, light on the sweet. Ryan didn't allow himself to think about any other meaning for those berries.
By Wednesday, Summer was missing her favorite TV programs and complaining about the lack of even a radio in Ryan's room.
By Thursday, Summer had started complaining about the way the springs of Ryan's broken bed poked through the slinky, expensive sheets and stabbed her in the night. Ryan answered Summer by cuddling her closer and feeling her nuzzle his neck in the night, warm breath blowing into the hollow of his throat.
And then there was the sex. Apparently, her joke hadn't been a joke at all. Ryan was already exhausted, and the week wasn't over yet.
That day he asked Summer to go with him to see Seth at Nina's, where she had decided on the hamburger with cheese and was wolfing it with an amazing lack of gentility when Seth slid into the booth beside her.
"Don't slow down on my account," he told her, squishing his way across the red vinyl. "I'm having the same. I told Margie on the way in, but she required assurance that her hand would not be slapped on a bun and devoured before she would agree to deliver a burger to the table. She also is delivering two salads, one for me and one for you, Summer. They're in the nature of a test. She wants to be sure you're an omnivore not strictly carn. Ryan, good to see you."
Ryan nodded.
"Atwood hasn't fed me all week," Summer said between bites.
"Margie indicated as much."
"I gave you sandwiches," Ryan protested. "And strawberries."
"Green, sour strawberries. And peanut butter sandwiches. I hate peanut butter. It's a leading cause of complexion disorders."
"Complexion disorders?" Seth said.
"I read it in Vogue," Summer said.
"Complexion disorders?" Seth repeated. "Is that a euphemism for zit?' Cause I've got to tell you it's a lot longer than just saying zit.'"
"EW," Summer said. She gave it a little more zing than usual. Ryan hadn't heard a double-whammy "ew" from Summer in a long time. It was nice to hear, even if Seth had brought it out of her and not Ryan.
Ryan pushed his jealousy back down to the bottom of his mind, reminding himself that he wanted Seth and Summer to hit it off.
"So what have you been doing during spring break besides starving?" Seth said. "Me, thanks for asking, I've been hanging out with La Madre and about going crazy from boredom. Believe it or not, there is only so much PlayStation that can be played in one week."
"Oh, I believe it," Summer said. "I'm ready to start studying again, that's how bored I am. We've read "The Scarlet Letter" twice. Atwood has no TV, no radio, no nothing."
"Well I guess all that's left is sex," Seth said.
"We've been doing that," Summer said. "But a starving girl has her limits."
"Hey," Ryan protested. "Sitting right here."
"Not that you haven't been terribly inventive," Summer said hastily, reaching across the table to pat Ryan on the hand. He felt himself blushing and hoped Seth wouldn't notice.
"All right, I've probably heard enough anyway," Seth said, watching the interaction with the enthusiasm of a voyeur. "Too much. Moving on to other domestic matters, I was curious how the periwinkle worked out."
"It's blue," Ryan said.
"Summer said periwinkle," Seth said.
"It's periwinkle," Summer said.
"Accented with peach highlights," Ryan said. "And hearts. And the bathroom is pink."
"Wow, man, you're going to need a testosterone injection every week just to keep from growing tits," Seth said.
"Tell me about it," Ryan said. "Just last night I had the urge to take a bubble bath and exfoliate with an herbal-scented natural seaweed cleanser direct from the Aegean."
"Hey," Summer said, stung. "I only made you try it once, and your skin is softer and you're not dead. Though that's still possible."
"Smoother skin, huh?" Seth said. "Can I feel?"
He stuck out his hand. Ryan ducked backward.
"No! It, uh, wasn't my face she exfoliated."
"Now that's definitely too much information," Seth said, retracting his hand hastily.
Margie arrived, dropping off the steaming burger and crisp salads with an alacrity that suggested she did in fact fear Summer's appetite.
"Hey, Atwood, Joyce wants to talk to you," Margie said, pulling a salad dressing bottle out of her apron pocket and depositing it on the table.
"Sure thing," Ryan said.
He slid out of the booth, leaving Seth and Summer together, laughing. He talked to Joyce and returned to the table, where Seth and Summer were still laughing. He winced in sympathy as Summer gave Seth one of her patented thwacks in the stomach. That had to hurt, especially on a fully burgered belly.
"So, Atwood," Summer said. "Seth tells me there's a shark movie we absolutely have to see. We can be at the IMAX in 15 minutes."
"Anything wrong?" Seth said, taking in Ryan's blank face as he reseated himself in the booth beside Summer.
"No, Joyce just asked me to work tonight," Ryan said. "Summer, I won't be at the room until we close. Murphy's sick again. Why don't you go see the movie without me?"
"OK," Summer said uncertainly. "If you're sure.I mean, we were going to spend the week together."
"I know, but Joyce really needs me tonight," Ryan said. "Murphy called in sick."
"All right," Summer said. "I'm just going to check out the little girls' room before we leave."
Ryan got up and let Summer out before sitting again.
"Hey, man, it won't be as fun without you," Seth said, turning back to Ryan. "See you next week?"
"Sure," Ryan said. "Listen, thanks for taking care of my girl."
"No problem," Seth said. "I take it things are moving forward? You just used the words my girl' and I distinctly heard you call her Summer' right in front of me. That's progress, my man."
"Yeah," Ryan shrugged and squirmed. He had been getting cavalier about talking in front of Summer and Seth, but somehow it seemed right. "It started to seem silly to call her anything else."
"Especially when you're bonking her brains out," Seth said.
He leaned backward on Ryan's glare and looked surprised when Ryan's glare turned over into a reluctant smirk.
"Summer prefers the phrase, facilitating her feminine empowerment through expression of her sexual identity in a mutually rewarding symbiosis,'" Ryan informed Seth.
"Dude," Seth said, stunned. "No way."
Ryan smirked some more.
"Dude," Seth said, shaking dark curls. "You have got to take that women's studies textbook away from her."
"I'm told that would be an example of historically patriarchal interference through a typically masculine aggressive response to female self-realization," Ryan said, glancing up. "Also, she might hit me."
"And she does pack a punch," Seth said, rubbing his belly. "You have suffered long and mightily in the service of your gender. On behalf of the rest of us, I salute you."
"Are you ready?" Summer said, plopping down on Seth's side of the booth and linking her arm with Seth's as she returned from powdering her nose or whatever other arcane ritual she had performed in the tiny one-seater in the back of the diner. Her free hand pushed Seth's curls out of his eyes. "You need a haircut."
"You sound like my mom," Seth said. "That's not a good thing."
"You want him to cut his hair," Ryan questioned.
"Um, yeah," Summer said.
"You want him to CUT his hair," Ryan said again.
"Absolutely," Summer said, returning her peach hand to Seth's forehead and ruffling his dark locks.
Ryan looked at Summer. He pulled some of his hairs away from his face and measured them. He looked back at Summer.
"Consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds," she said defensively.
Seth looked from Summer to Ryan and back again.
"OK, I don't know what just went on here, but I'm ready to go if you are, Summer," Seth said.
"Ready," Summer said.
She untucked her arm from Seth's and ran over to Ryan's side of the booth for a fast goodbye kiss. He pecked her back and watched them go off together. He wouldn't give way to jealousy. Going to movies was for Seth and Summer. Going to work was for him. He got up from the booth and went to work.