Chapter 3

Ryan didn't need a lot of motivation to put all his energy into fixing up the house so it could be sold. He wanted to get rid of it. He needed to be rid of it. He had to get out from under his mother's thumb and start living for himself. Dawn hadn't been back home for months and Ryan didn't miss cleaning up her messes, but he missed her. As stupid and contradictory as it was, he missed having someone to look after; having someone just be there all the time. He'd never been allowed to have a purpose outside of being a pseudo-parent to his mother and now he had the whole world in front of him and it was more frightening than the beatings he'd received as a child had been.

With Summer, things were so tense it was starting to drive him insane. And the sexual tension? There was enough of that going around to keep him standing under cold showers for twenty minutes at a time on a daily basis. He was pretty damn sure it was too cold out to be wearing skirts and low-cut tops all the time. Of course, Summer took fashion over practicality any day. And she also liked to see him squirm.

He worked off all the frustration Summer brought to his life with a hammer on the front porch as he fixed the loose railing, every nail a testament to how crazy she drove him; he could forget about her and her impossibly dark eyes as he re-grouted the bathroom tiles; and he could pretend it was the paint fumes that made her look incredibly sexy flipping through a magazine and scowling at him.

Ryan finished the repairs and painting on the third day after Summer's arrival. After a month of procrastination, Summer had turned out to be the motivation he needed. The realtor suggested having an open house on Saturday. Ryan agreed and let him arrange everything.

He picked up an extra shift at the garage so he wouldn't have to be there while people scrutinized his humble abode. Work kept his mind occupied.

Summer spent half the day at the mall before she got bored. She would never have believed it herself had she not been living it. It wasn't that she didn't have the money to buy new things. Because she did. But all the excitement was gone. Everything she looked at reminded her of that cheap floozy nipping Ryan's ear. It was an image she wanted to forget. Was that how Ryan had seen their time together in the summer? Was Summer the one deluding herself and thinking they had something more, when in actuality, Ryan was just going with the flow? Was she just another one of his women?

Why was this so difficult? She still felt every bit as anxious and excited in Ryan's presence, but reality had clicked into place and she'd realized that everything she really knew about Ryan she could count on one hand.

It was time to get to know what made Ryan Atwood tick.

Summer picked up lunch at a diner across from the garage and dodged two lanes of traffic with the food pressed against her side. She hoped she hadn't squashed the sandwiches she'd bought them. This was a start. A peace offering. The white flag to put an end to their feud. She hoped to walk away from this lunch as friends.

Stepping into the garage, Summer surveyed the area. The first person she saw looked very familiar. It took her a minute to recognize Randy without his baseball cap. It was his eyes that she remembered. His hair was combed and parted to the left, his face clean shaven and his eyes bluer than the sapphires on her earrings. He'd been there that first night she got to Chino and had even given her a twenty dollar bill to buy drinks.

Summer approached him.

"Hey, there!"

Summer smiled. "Hi. Randy, right?"

"That's right." Randy offered her his hand and they shook. Summer's hand looked so tiny inside of his. He was a big man, tall and thick. At one time in his life he'd probably garnered the attention of many ladies. Now he was a bit bulky around the middle and he looked tired, deep in the bones tired; but there was still traces of handsomeness in his face and the shadow of his former self in his eyes.

"I remember you from The Hole. Heard you got yourself into some trouble."

"A little. Ryan helped me out," she said, shifting the bag of food to her other hand.

Randy smiled. "Atwood's a good kid. Had himself some trouble, too, a while back, but he's always there when you need him."

Summer nodded. She liked the twang in his voice. She could probably listen to him talk the whole day.

"I felt mighty guilty about that night. Yes siree, mighty guilty." He shook his head. "I don't think it was right of me to encourage you to buy drinks when I knew you wasn't old enough. Thought about it for weeks until my wife told me to shut up already. Wives are like that. Want you to talk to 'em and when you do, they want you to shut up." He laughed. It was loud and scratchy and tickled her eardrums. "Good lord! I never been one for all this 'talking about your feelings' crap, but I sure did feel guilty. I'll be sure to tell the wife when I get home."

"I can pay you back now," she said. Summer reached into her purse and extracted a twenty.

Randy stepped back. "You just keep that now."

"Take it. Please."

Randy folded her hand around the money and patted the back of her hand. "Keep it, Darlin'. It'd help ease my conscience and set me right with the Lord. Alright?"

Summer nodded. "Okay."

"Now, I know you didn't come here to see an old man like me, so you must be looking for someone more your age. Ryan's working on a Trans Am out back. You just go right through that door, toward the back, and you should find him just fine."

Summer watched him point to a door at the end of a row of tires. "Thanks."

"Bye, now."

Watching where she stepped, Summer avoided a puddle of grease and a set of wrenches on her way to the back door. She watched Ryan for a minute through the window. He looked exhausted. He'd been sleeping on an air mattress on the living room floor and Summer knew it couldn't have been too comfortable. He'd sacrificed his mattress for her.

They hadn't talked much in the days since she'd arrived. Ryan always found ways to avoid her. He left early for school. Stayed late at work. He was giving her plenty of space and time to think things over. She knew in the back of his mind he thought he was doing her a favour. That if he left her alone enough she would come to her senses and retreat, go back home and forget this town even existed. He thought that was what she needed. Summer knew different. She hadn't spent three months thinking about him for nothing. He was what she needed...even if they weren't ready to admit it yet.

Nerves were making her hands shake as she twisted the knob to open the door.

"Randy, you want to take a look at this? I've gone over everything twice and it still isn't running right."

"I'm not Randy. Sorry." Ryan pivoted around, the floodlight he held slipping out of his hands and narrowly missing his foot.

Ryan stared at her for so long she started to feel uncomfortable.

"Hey," she said, hoping to crumble the wall between them.

"Hey," he responded, wiping his hands on a rag. "What are you...? I thought you were at the mall."

Summer shrugged. "I was. I got bored."

"Of shopping?"

"I was just as shocked as you, believe me." They exchanged a smile and Summer felt that familiar pull in her stomach.

Ryan tipped his chin at the greasy bag in her hand. "What's that?"

"Hmm? Oh, this?" Summer set the bag on a plastic table that was home to a lighter, screwdriver and ashtray. She pushed those items out of the way and opened the bag. The smell of fried food hit the air. "I brought you lunch."

Ryan looked surprised. Another wave of excitement washed over her.

He picked up the light, checked to make sure it still worked and set it on the car. Turning back around, he leaned against the car and wiped his hands again. His coveralls were filthy with dirt and his white t-shirt underneath was stained with grease.

Summer shifted her weight. Things were so weird, she wondered if she'd made a mistake in coming here. "Do you want me to go?"

Ryan stood. "No, it's not that." He looked at his hands and then back up at her. "I'm just going to go wash up."

Summer nodded. Ryan passed by her and she caught his familiar scent. She stood motionless for a minute, and then, catching herself, began to unpack the sandwiches, french fries and drinks that had been meticulously packed.

Ryan took a long time to come back. Summer nibbled on a french fry, sipped her water and tried not to look at her watch. When he did return, Ryan was in jeans and his hands were near spotless, even his nails looked like they had been through a good scrubbing.

Ryan sat down on an ancient-looking stool across from Summer, who'd settled into a plastic lawn chair. He picked up half of his sandwich. "Looks good," he said. He tried to smile, but his eyes were sceptical.

"You're wondering why I came here and why I'm being nice."

Ryan sighed. "Yeah, kinda."

"I'm not going back to Newport and you're the only person I know here and I need your help."

Ryan nodded. He took a bite of his sandwich, chewed slowly and washed it down with a gulp of soda.

Summer covered her face with her hand, shaking her head. "I didn't mean that how it sounded."

"What did you mean then?"

"Last time...we connected, you know? And I just think if we start out slow, get to know each other, then maybe this won't be so bad. You have no reason to help me and I've been a complete bitch."

Ryan snorted.

Summer chose to ignore it.

"I don't mean to be. It's just- I've always gotten whatever I wanted."

"Don't all Princesses?"

Summer laughed despite herself. "Clever."

Ryan smirked. "I try."

"The point is: you had no reason to help me at the bar and you have no reason to help me now, but you are and I appreciate it and I guess I could have handled things better considering how nice you've been to me... I was hurt and upset and I'm not used to not getting what I want. So, thank you." Summer felt hot all over. Ryan was staring at her the same way he had that night on the porch when they'd kissed. She cleared her throat. "So, do you think we can make this work? We can be friends, roommates?"

Ryan didn't make her wait long for a response. "Yeah," he said, wiping his mouth on a napkin. "Thanks for lunch."

Summer nodded, surprised things had actually turned out well. "Yeah, no problem."

Ryan stood, grabbed his cigarettes off the table and pulled one out of the pack. "I don't want to rush you out of here, but I really have to figure out what the hell is wrong with this car."

"Oh, yeah, okay." Summer stood.

"Will you be okay on your own for a few hours?"

"Yeah, sure. I can find something to do." Summer smiled and began to pack away the wrappers and used napkins. A thought occurred to her and she turned to face Ryan. "Oh, one more thing."

"Hmm?" He blocked the wind and lit the tip of his cigarette, inhaling the smoke.

"I want to sell my car."

Ryan blew out a cloud of smoke. "Why?"

"I need the money." Summer fidgeted. "And before you even say not to worry, it's not your job to take care of me and you shouldn't have to. I have some money, but selling the car seems the right thing to do. It'll be liberating. The ultimate f-you to my dad," she smiled, feeling empowered by the statement. "Besides, once he figures out I lied to him he'll lock up my trust fund and kick me out of his will."

Ryan shrugged. "If you say so. I'll talk to Randy about putting it out front."

"Thanks. See ya later, Ryan."

"See ya, Princess."

Summer turned around, scowling at him until she couldn't hold in her smile any longer.