::Hi, I'm midtowngirl89 and I'm a fanfic-aholic. Here's a random one-shot just because I know Summer cares about Seth (and now I'm talking about them as if they are real people haha). Title is a Dashboard Confessional song. Anyway, hit me up with some reviews, yo. Peace, much love. Lol.::
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There are times when Summer has no freakin idea why she ever liked Seth. It could have been his rugged sexiness and extremely buff body. Summer smirks. Yeah, right. But now she's single, free. Back to the days of stealing tequila bottles and sneaking them to Marissa's, for nights of incoherent speech and irrelevant thoughts. Back to hooking up with "randoms" from college parties she crashed, when the guys take advantage of her complete lack of consciousness. Back to not having to worry about hurting anyone, but herself. And she has never worried about that.
Then there are times when she cries. Summer puts on a mix cd Seth made when things were good, and lies on her floor, staring at the ceiling. Her hair's a mess and she digs her fingernails into the plush ivory carpet. She shakes her head along with the beat until the tears force themselves out. And she doesn't care. Her vision is blurred but the ceiling looks the same anyway. Summer cries until her eyes are angry and red, her head aches, and her fists are sore from hitting the floor. And she doesn't care. She lies there until she gets that feeling where all she can hear is her heart pounding and she can't swallow or speak for the life of her.
Last week, Summer sat quietly in her 3rd period history class, staring out the window. Rain drizzled from the dark sky and hit the ground in a very specific rhythm that Summer quickly memorized. She looked across the courtyard into the window of the adjacent classroom. Mr. Schofield's 3rd period AP calculus. And there he was. Seth. He rested his head on the palm of his left hand, gazing at the sky. His eyes flickered with resignation and he frowned, his dimples appearing. Summer's hands began to shake. His stupid brown eyes. His stupid curls. His stupid, stupid dimples. Summer nodded to the teacher on her way out the door, clutching a bathroom pass and trying to remember how to breathe.
Three days ago, Summer pulled into her driveway, and parked her red Convertible. The radio blared "And here's the latest from Death Cab for Cutie…". Soft acoustic melodies filled her car. She stretched her arms out across the dashboard, and put her head down, hair sweeping across her face. And she lost it. Subtle and sure.
This morning, Summer waited outside the front of the school. Seth approached, his messenger bag hitting his thigh regularly. The right side of his mouth inched up, into a smile. His face was soon blocked by the quite muscular torso of Summer's latest fling. But Summer was pretty sure Seth wasn't smiling. She tossed a lame excuse at the water polo-er and hid in the bathroom until 1st.
There are times when all Summer wants to do is lay in Seth's arms, him rambling in her ear while she pretends she's not listening but is really amazed at every word that comes out of his mouth.