As he ambled across the campus, Seth consulted his schedule again and surreptitiously studied a map at the same time. Harbor High consisted of several buildings and he'd gotten lost on more than one occasion this morning. He'd finally given in and picked up a map at the registration desk. History in Room 210 was next.

Not paying as much attention to his surroundings as he should have, he collided shoulders with someone. "Sorry," he uttered automatically.

"Watch it!" an annoyed male voice barked at him.

Seth stopped and turned to see three pairs of eyes glaring at him. They looked like triplets, with their sandy blonde hair, tanned skin, and button-down shirts. The one who had spoken to him looked vaguely familiar but Seth couldn't place his name. He was, however, feeling a prickly sense of déjà vu with this whole scenario.

"I said I was sorry," Seth reiterated, starting to turn away. But he found himself surrounded by three solidly built bodies.

"Not good enough, Cohen. You need to be sorrier than that."

It looked like only the one guy was capable of speech. The other two just mimicked the ringleader's actions. "If I tried to act more sorry, it would be totally insincere," Seth informed him, with a bravado he couldn't believe he was conjuring up. "But I'm sure that subtlety would be lost on you."

With a comically wrinkled brow, it seemed the thug couldn't decide if he'd been insulted or not. "You always were a freak with your stupid babbling. What have we got here?" He ripped the papers from Seth's hand. "A schedule and a map?" Laughing loudly, he tore the sheets in two.

Seth launched himself forward, his arm stretching out furiously, but the silent partners held him back. Well, they weren't totally silent. Apparently they were capable of joining in the laughter as well. He could only watch as the papers were wadded into a ball and tossed into a nearby trashcan. "Bet you're sorry now," the guy taunted with a sneer.

"Fuck you, asshole." The words popped out of his mouth without thinking but Seth was fuming and didn't care.

"What did you just say?" The guy took three steps forward until he was inches from Seth's face.

"I thought I was speaking English but maybe the words were echoing so loudly in the cavernous space between your ears that you couldn't hear me properly," Seth spat out. "I said, fuck you ass-"

"That's what I thought you said." Four fat fingers and one thumb clenched into a fist and drew back for what would assuredly be a painful punch. Seth's arms were still pinned, rendering him pathetically helpless. All he could do was brace himself for the impact. But it never came.

"Hey Andy! Lay off," commanded a new voice. "Let him go."

As the vice-like grips on his upper arms were released, Seth regarded the new guy. He looked like he could join the trio to round it out to the fab four with his preppy, designer threads but his hair was a darker shade of brown. And he didn't appear to want Seth's nose in the dirt.

"Come on, he had it coming," Andy whined.

"The guy just came out of a coma. You want to put him in another one?"

"Wouldn't be a bad idea," Andy muttered. He pointed a finger between Seth's eyes. "Watch your step, freak." With that warning, the three amigos went on their way.

Although his arms were throbbing, Seth resisted trying to rub away the discomfort. Pride wouldn't allow it. "Thanks," he said.

"Sure. Do you remember me?"

Seth glanced over his features. He did look familiar. "I feel like I should know you," he said slowly. "But sorry, it's not coming to me."

"Justin Voss." They shook hands and Justin continued. "We've been in some of the same classes since junior high, in case you're wondering. We're not exactly friends but acquaintances, I guess. Anyway, I heard about what happened to you. The coma and everything. Tough break, man."

"Yeah. Sorry, but I've gotta run. I'm late for class."

"Sure. See you around."

Seth walked quickly but he didn't bother running; he was already late anyway. He kept his head down, ignoring the stares and whispers of people who had stopped to watch his predicament. Now he would have to think of some grand reason to obtain another schedule from the registration desk. He supposed he could have reached into the garbage can to retrieve the crumpled wad but he didn't want to give the crowd any more reason to gawk at him. Thankfully, he'd had time to scan the map so he knew where he was going.

At the very least, he was proud of the fact that he'd stood up for himself. Being bullied was something that he was no stranger to but the response that he'd displayed just now had surprised him. He was usually more passive than that. Chalk it up to another personality change? Or perhaps he was tired of being pushed around and had just snapped. Whatever.

How ironic that he'd actually been looking forward to the start of school. Fucking irony. Never a fun ride.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Finally. School was over for the day.

Summer had a spare last period so she headed for the lounge to wait for Seth. They didn't have any classes together today but had compared schedules at lunch. They shared a few classes scattered sporadically across the week but not as many as they would've liked.

Grabbing a bottle of Diet Coke, she found a corner table and dragged out a couple of books. The first day of school and she already had homework. Sucky. Maybe she could get a head start on some reading.

"Hey beautiful."

She only wanted to hear one voice calling her that these days, but this wasn't the voice. Lifting her head with disdain, she met the eyes of Justin Voss. "Get lost," she said icily.

He made a clicking sound with his tongue and plunked himself down on the chair next to her. "Is that any way to greet me? After the night we shared together?"

"In your dreams, jerko," she hissed, scowling at him.

He backed off, wiping the silly grin from his face to regard her seriously. "You're right, I am being a jerk. Sorry. Forgive me?"

"What do you want?"

"Just to talk to you. I hear you're back with Cohen. True?"

"Yeah. That's right." Her tone was challenging, as if daring him to make an issue of it. Which, of course, he did.

"Didn't you tell me you didn't care if you ever saw the guy again? Come to think of it, I think you called him a jerk too. Or was it 'that bastard, son of a bitch'?"

Wonderful, her own words coming back to haunt her. Justin was referring to the night that she'd gone to a party soon after Seth's disappearing act. A couple of days after, in fact. She'd still been in the midst of her rage at that point and determined to act as though she couldn't care less that he'd gone. Justin had struck up a conversation with her and they'd spent most of the night talking.

She'd known him casually since they were kids. His father was a doctor too. Besides being in some classes together, they often ran in the same social circles. He was a nice enough guy from the little she knew of him. Never seemed to lack a girlfriend, though it wasn't like a madly revolving door or anything. Every year or so she noticed someone new on his arm. In fact, he'd never shown any interest in her until this recent party. They'd shared a few drinks. Even a few laughs.

Then he'd kissed her. The move had come out of nowhere and she'd been too surprised to react. When he'd leaned in for the second kiss, however, she'd stopped him with one hand. The night had ceased being fun at that point, for some inexplicable reason. She'd made her excuses and slunk home, cursing Cohen all the way.

Justin was snapping his fingers in front of her nose. "Summer? Hello?"

She made her irritation very plain to see. "Go away."

"You know, I'm still hurt that you never returned my calls. I thought we had a real connection that night. The talking. The laughing. The kissing."

On the last word, he wiggled his eyebrows in such an exaggerated manner that she almost laughed before catching herself. "You kissed me. Once. And I never kissed you back," she reminded him.

He looked unconcerned with her point. "A mere technicality. Things might have turned out differently if you hadn't taken off."

She decided the time had come for brutal honesty. "Look, Justin, you're a nice guy. Go find yourself a nice girl. You don't want me. I'm anything but nice. Even though I ranted and raved to you about Cohen, we're back together. Pretty screwed up, right? But that's me. So do yourself a favour and run."

Bursting out with laughter, he shook his head. "You're something else, you know that? I'm going. For now."

He left her alone at the table once more, while she glared after his retreating back. 'For now', he'd said. Couldn't the guy take a hint? Grabbing her drink, she twisted the cap off fiercely, imagining that it was Justin's neck.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The blessed bell rang and everyone scrambled to toss notebooks and pencils into their bags, fighting to be the first one out the door. Most of the kids grumbled about having their Advanced Math class scheduled at the end of the day, but Ryan quite liked it. He found it both logical and methodical work that helped his scrambled brain relax after the day's rigours. Zipping up his bag, he found Seth ready and waiting beside him.

"You don't have soccer practice today, do you?" Seth asked, sounding hopeful.

"No. It doesn't start up until next week. Why?"

"You want to catch a ride home with me?"

"Sure. Thanks."

They stepped outside into the sunshine and headed for the parking lot. "So how did you find classes today?" Ryan asked. "I mean, do you remember stuff you learned before?"

"Yeah, it's okay. Like in Math. I know how to do those formulas but I don't remember learning how to do it. And I don't remember any of the teachers. I even got lost today," Seth admitted.

Ryan felt badly for him. But he had one solution he could offer. "We'll get you a map."

"I had one."

"Had one? Don't tell me you lost it already," he joked. But seeing the look on Seth's face, the attempt at humour fell flat. "What's wrong?"

Seth stopped walking and his head jerked around, as if he wanted to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "Listen," he said quietly, his voice full of urgency. "You've gotta help me. You need to teach me how to fight. Or at least how to defend my sorry ass so I don't get it kicked into the next state."

Ryan's trouble radar started buzzing and beeping in full force. "Is someone harassing you? Who is it? Those water polo assholes?"

"I have no idea. The big guy...well, they're all big guys, but the mother of them all is Andy. That's all I know."

Ryan regarded Seth's lean frame up and down with a critical, trained eye. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Just tell me and I'll beat the living..."

"Ryan, dude, take it easy," Seth advised. "It's nice to know you care but don't go ballistic on me." He cracked a small smile. "I guess I underestimated the value of brotherly love. It's kind of nice. But I digress. Some guy named Justin came by and stopped the madness before my nose got bloodied. So everything's cool. I just want to be a little more prepared next time. That's where you come in. Dad told me you've been in a few scrapes so I figure you're the kind of the guy that can handle himself. Am I right? I know I'm right. So please, just say you'll help me out here."

All of Ryan's protective instincts were kicking in and though he wasn't sure if this was the right way to handle things, it was certainly something he had a lot of experience in. He found himself nodding in agreement. "Yes!" Seth rejoiced. "Come on, let's boot it home before the folks get in. We can practise outside."

Seth was so eager to make it home in record time, Ryan had to yell at him several times to slow down. A speeding ticket would not have helped matters. Once at home, they tossed their bags inside the house and went to a grassy area of the back yard.

Seth immediately started bouncing up and down on his heels, arms bent at the elbow and fists clenched. He jabbed some mock punches and emitted some snarly sounding growls. Ryan couldn't help it. Even though he tried to cover his mouth, he shook with laughter at the ridiculous sight.

"Laugh it up, man. We'll see if you're laughing when I crawl home one day with all of my limbs missing." Seth stopped his bouncing, as if reflecting on that interesting mental image. "Okay, not the best example, but you know what I mean. Come on, let's go," he ordered impatiently.

Ryan forced himself to get serious. "Okay. Let's say someone has your arms pinned." He walked behind Seth and took hold of his upper arms in a firm grip, but not hard enough to be hurtful. "Like this," he continued. "You could...OW!"

Letting him go, Ryan cradled his right foot. "Jesus, Seth!" he shouted, gasping from the pain of having his toes crunched by a merciless stomping action.

"I'm sorry!" Seth exclaimed. But despite his apology, he sounded suspiciously excited. "It was instinct. Is that what you were going to suggest?"

"Something like," Ryan muttered, limping around and shaking out his foot.

"Funny I never thought to do that today," Seth mused out loud. "I guess those guys were more intimidating than you."

"Gee, thanks."

"Okay, what's next?"

He'd never been a praying man but Ryan took a few seconds to silently recite a prayer for his safety. "Let's try the art of dodging a punch. It's called ducking."

"I really have to practise that?" Seth gave him a doubtful look.

"There's actually timing involved. You don't want to duck too late, for obvious reasons. But if you do it too early, the guy doing the punching will have time to readjust his swing and you're gonna get plowed. Make sense?"

"I guess."

"So we'll just do it in slow motion first."

Ryan explained what he would do and in turn, what he wanted Seth to do. They would start slowly so no one would get hurt. He drew back his arm and stopped, counting to five in his head. "Seth? You're ducking already."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are! I didn't even start the swing yet and you're ducking. Don't move until I tell you to. Okay?"

Seth nodded, his face a study of concentration. They tried it again but he still flinched and ducked his head too early. Ryan sighed, trying to hold onto his patience. "This isn't working. Let's try this. You do the punching and I'll duck. Then you'll see what the timing should be like."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"You want to learn, right? So we have to do this. Come on, Seth, swing like you're gonna knock my lights out. Forget the slow mo right now. I've had plenty of practice. I know when to duck."

Once again, Seth sounded rather dubious. "Okay." But he obligingly formed a solid fist, focused on Ryan's face, and swung with all his might.

Ryan braced himself, saw the fist flying, and then got distracted by movement in the corner of his eye. It was Sandy, coming straight towards them. Within a split second, he thought to duck but it was too late. Seth's fist cracked against his jaw and he staggered sideways, somehow managing not to fall over.

"Seth!" Sandy roared with a frightening intensity. "What the hell is the matter with you? Ryan, are you all right?"

Neither one was capable of answering right away. They were both groaning and cradling their respective injured body parts. Ryan tried to mumble that he was fine but the words were incoherent. So much for praying. He gave a thumbs up sign instead.

"You were supposed to duck!" Seth cried accusingly. "I think my thumb is broken," he whined.

Sandy faced them with hands on his hips, in his best parental stance. "Okay, 'fess up. I want to know what's going on here. Since Ryan seems incapable of speech at the moment, you go first," he directed his son.

"I just asked Ryan to give me some pointers on how to fight." At the bugged-out look of his father's eyes, Seth quickly added," Well, more like how to defend myself. The school is full of predators, Dad. You don't want me to be vulnerable prey that can easily be picked off, do you? Think of what that would do to our evolutionary line. I have a right to defend myself."

"Yes," Sandy agreed, sounding very careful. "You do have a right to defend yourself if you're attacked in any way. Is that what happened today?"

"No. I just, you know, want to be ready," Seth replied, sounding wholly unconvincing.

Ryan timidly moved his jaw back and forth. Seemed to be in good working order. "Learning to defend yourself is important," he ventured to say, relieved that he sounded normal.

"Agreed." Sandy slipped a finger beneath his tie, loosening the knot. "Carry on then. But do me a favour. Don't let your mother catch you. I just talked to Kirsten and she's going to be home in twenty minutes."

"Why are you both home so early?" Seth asked.

"We just wanted to hear about the first day back at school. That's all." Before turning to go, Sandy had one last request. "Show me how you make a fist." Gazing at Seth's clenched fingers and thumb, he said, "No, it should be like this." He gently rearranged the positioning so the thumb was curved outside of the fingers, not underneath. "Less chance of hurting your thumb that way," he explained. "Not that I'm condoning fighting or punching in any way. But every man should know how to make a proper fist."

Looking rather nonplussed, Seth watched his father walk away and then looked back at Ryan. "Have I mentioned he's from the Bronx?" he asked.

"Let's just call it a day," Ryan suggested hopefully.

"Oh, come on! Just twenty more minutes. I haven't learned that timing thing yet," Seth pleaded.

At this rate, Ryan wasn't sure if he'd live another twenty minutes. But he'd always found it difficult to refuse Seth. Especially now that they were starting to reconnect again. Quite literally, it seemed.

"All right," he grumbled. "But let's go back to slow mo."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chewing on the end of his pen, Seth contemplated the next question. Homework, lovely homework. His mind started drifting and then a sudden thought made him drop the pen.

"Oh fuck!" he swore aloud. He might have set his own personal record for how many times he'd used the f-word today. "Oh my God, she's going to kill me," he moaned, scrambling for the phone.

It was answered after the first ring. "This better be you, Cohen," snarled the angry voice.

"Summer, I am so, so, so sorry. I am a complete ass."

"I sat in that lounge for almost two hours! Two hours of my life that I'll never get back. I can't believe you stood me up!"

"I can't believe it either. I had a lousy day and I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I completely forgot we were going to meet. I...I can't say enough how sorry I am." While he was talking, he was frantically thinking of a way to appease her. "I'll make it up to you."

"You better think of something good," she grumbled.

"How about, uh, you get to pick the next five movies we see?"

"Ten."

He winced silently, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching a properly formed fist, visions of chick flicks dancing across his closed lids. "Yeah, sure. Ten is a good round number," he forced himself to say brightly. "Am I forgiven now?"

But she was on a roll. "And you have to come shopping with me."

"Shopping," he repeated dully, forgetting to sound cheerful. He tried to sound more upbeat with his next words. "I can do that. Sure. Yup."

"Okay, you're forgiven. Just don't ever, ever stand me up again," she warned.

He placed a hand over his heart, as if she had x-ray vision through the phone. "I won't. I swear."

"Good. So why was your day so lousy?"

He flopped back on the bed, twirling the phone cord with his finger. "Everything was just weird. People kept staring at me and I was trying to figure out if they knew me or if I had my fly undone or something. I guess everyone knows what happened to me, huh."

"Pretty much. Everyone knows everyone's business."

"Guess that's Newport's charm. How was your day?"

"Okay, I guess." She sounded less than enthusiastic with that vague answer. "At least we get English together tomorrow," she added, sounding happier with that prospect.

He was pleased about that too. They chatted for a few more minutes but since neither one of them seemed anxious to go into much more detail about the first day of school, they soon said goodnight.

Tomorrow morning, he would have to leave a little early so he could get another copy of his schedule. And another map. He wasn't sure what he would do the next time he had an encounter with Andy and his sidekicks. Ryan's lesson today made him feel a little less helpless but he just wasn't sure how he would react. While there was the slim possibility that there wouldn't be a next time, he doubted he would get so lucky. Such good fortune just never seemed to be in the cards for him.

But hey, he did have Summer now. That had to count for something. It was about the only good thing he had going right now. He just had to be sure not to blow it.

A/N: I think I just had way too much fun writing this chapter. I hope you enjoyed reading it just as much! And, as always, thanks for those reviews. I appreciate the time you put into telling me what you think.