Chapter 11
The scene at Harbor's common was of energetic chaos. A large truck was parked in the adjacent lot and jocks were unloading flat boxes and taking them to groups of students spread out over the grounds. Cheerleaders, various sports teams, and club members were at different stages of putting together cabinets. Cardboard, wood panels, and drawer parts were strewn about.
Ryan approached Marissa, busy directing students around her. She looked up from her clipboard. "I'm going to have to dock you for coming late," she teased.
"Hey, Marissa. Summer and Seth are right behind me somewhere," Ryan said not really replying to her.
"Thanks for helping. It's such a good cause. The hospital's outreach clinic in Riverside really needed a face lift." They smiled awkwardly at each other; trying to be friends was a new experience for both of them.
"Kirsten donated these," she said picking through a box of hard hats, tool belts and tee shirts all with the Newport Group's logo on them. "Help yourself."
"I think Kirsten likes dressing me up strangely."
"You mean like that fugly brown shirt with a pattern on the shoulders you wore to Mexico?"
"I wish that was the worst of it, think form-fitting sweat pants." Ryan put on a hard hat, and raised a canvas tool belt in the air. "I wonder what she thinks might fall on our heads. Or how many tools we need on hand to screw some cabinets together."
Seth's voice boomed as he and Summer came up to Ryan and Marissa. "Ahoy, the master race of Buc Pirates is out in full force." Seth pretended to look out through a telescope at the campus scene. He stopped when he viewed Summer's scowl and put his hand to his forehead. "Oh, yeah. Expanding my social obligations with an open mind. Got it."
Seth looked at what Ryan had on his head and held in his hand. "Ryan, another minty fashion challenge but I think we can pull it off." He took the tool belt from Ryan and put it on. He picked up a hard hat, too.
Summer looked at Marissa and they laughed. "Because it's fun to stay at the Y-M-C-A," Summer and Marissa sang the Village People's hit, dancing out the letters.
Ryan and Seth quickly threw the hats and belt back in the box. "Or choose not to pull it off," said Seth pursing his lips tightly.
"That stuff's more important at the clinic, it's such good P.R. for Kirsten and the Newport Group," Marissa said. She turned toward Seth. "Seth, you're technically our liaison to the Newport Group, you know. Your mom is donating the design work for the children's section."
"I know that, Marissa. Not my usual modus operandi, but I'm taking this seriously. Ryan and I checked out all the cool stuff at Mom's place. I've been working my ass off making sure the play area is awesome. I came up with the ultimate gaming experience given a laughable budget."
The hospital had been delighted to discover Kirsten Cohen's son's involvement, and Summer had been equally delighted to combine her charity work with Seth time. But it was Ryan who had lobbied hardest for Seth to join in because he wanted a peak at Kirsten's work but didn't want the attention that came with the position.
After school one day, they had gone over to the Newport Group. After discovering Mr. McNichols had not returned yet, Ryan had had a lovely time quizzing the designers about the layout and building material choices. Seth had obsessed about which books, board games, software and systems to recommend.
"So, okay. I thought it was appropriate to assign you guys to the children's cabinets. They are taking the boxes to 'A' now," Marissa said pointing. There were labeled flags around the parking lot and grassy field. Members of the water polo team were carting boxes to the A flag in one corner.
"Summer, the candy strippers are working on the library bookshelves in 'D'." A few girls were already working on them there.
Two cheerleaders hollered impatiently from mid field for Marissa's attention. She turned to her friends apologetically. "See you guys later?" Marissa asked before she ran off.
Summer made two sets of Newport Group stuff - shirts, hard hats, and belts. She handed one set to Ryan and another to Seth. "I totally love mint." Summer and Seth began to kiss tenderly.
Ryan grabbed her offerings, and turned away to leave the pair to themselves. He got some tools, and headed over to the appointed area. He opened the first set of cardboard boxes. Panels of wood for the sides, the frame, and the drawers were laid on top of each other.
Ryan was looking over the directions when Seth arrived with a silly grin on his face. He dropped the Newport Group supplies on the grass. "Man, it's embarrassing. She can't keep her paws – sometimes claws - off of me." He shook his head ruefully. "Whiskers tickle," he muttered.
Ryan ignored him and began to put together the cabinets and drawers. It was a relatively simple design and was held together mostly with turn bolts screwed into predrilled holes. He put on the tool belt. There weren't many tools needed, but the belt had pockets for the hardware and glue that kept getting lost in the grass.
It was a nice day, and Ryan had to admit the Newport kids were giving up a Saturday to do some good. The soccer coach and Mr. Schmidt were there to supervise, but surprisingly most of the students seemed to know what to do. Any cynical thoughts Ryan had that they might be doing this for their college transcripts or looking to hook up with someone were pushed aside.
Seth sat cross-legged across from Ryan and watched him work. As Ryan finished each job, Seth would read off the next set of directions. Most of Seth's time was spent spying on Summer and keeping a running commentary on anything that entered his mind.
After the first base cabinet was constructed, Ryan got into a groove and the work went fast.
"Management would like to extend to its rank and file – great job, really, A, Ryan."
Ryan snorted.
Seth put the hard hat on, and knocked on it in various places experimentally. "The cabinets aren't as heavy as I thought they'd be. It must be all the weight lifting I've been doing this past week. We lifted, what, every other day? We even went running together once!"
With the Cohen's usual munificence, the weight training area on the patio had been furbished with top notch everything and discreetly hidden in fine cabinetry.
"Playing emo tunes and plotting ways to get more beer from Sandy near the weights does not count as lifting weights. And the cabinets are light as a feather when you don't actually lift any part of them – or help me do anything."
"Say what you want, but you're not bringing me down. All I feel is peace and love around me." He rested his hands on his knees, index fingers touching the tip of his thumbs, and closed his eyes, breathing evenly.
"What's with this week long nirvana fest? The water polo team's been busy with state championship finals, but I bet that stupid smile you come home with every time you see Summer is the real reason."
"I'm in a deep, deep zen-like concentration and ignoring your crass suggestions." Seth opened his eyes and said, "Quality control and management are huge responsibilities that you clearly don't appreciate."
Ryan glared but Seth was unfazed by it.
Ryan smeared a bead of glue along a joint with his finger. He wiped off the excess glue on his jeans. The construction of the cabinets was finished. There were only the doorknobs and door pulls to take care of.
"Go get me a bit for this." He tossed Seth one of the drawer pulls.
Seth caught it and turned it over with a perplexed expression. "That's a power tool thing, right? Umm..."
"Never mind," Ryan cut him off. He stood up, and stretched his back. The common grounds were thinning out as people completed their tasks and left for home or for the clinic to help there. They had the last group of cabinets not already down by the parking lot.
"This is tough work; I really appreciate the rank and file now," Seth said as he helped Ryan carry some of the trash away.
"I've had much worse than a day of pretend-construction work," Ryan said sarcastically. The screw gun slapped against his thigh the way a hammer used to at his grimy construction job last summer. It was hard to imagine his plans to escape Newport and head to Austin was only months ago.
"Think of the Super Friends 1970s cartoon. When the superheroes united they had to manage their talent – would you send Superman to check out the Sea Mobsters? Because what if Lex Luther started up something, too? No, you would send Aquaman in that case. See what I mean?"
Ryan continued walking but said, "Rarely, if ever. And definitely not now. You're lazy."
They threw the plastic and cardboard into their dumpsters and went to Mr. Schmidt sitting by a tool chest listening to classical music.
Seth said, "The ush-, my good reckoning man."
Mr. Schmidt frowned.
"The usual set of drill bits, please," Ryan explained.
He handed them to Ryan and pointed at a sheet in his hand. "I plotted the rate of cabinet completion for class next week. It reached a plateau after the first hour of increase," Mr. Schmidt said as his mole twitched.
Ryan nodded slowly in pretense of mild interest, and stepped away from the pedantic math instructor.
"Yeah, thanks for the tip," Seth said.
There were more than two dozen or so finished cabinets wrapped protectively and loaded onto a full truck bed.
The coach shouted from the cab to the people nearby, "Okay, we're heading over. Mr. Schmidt will round up you stragglers." Other schools' students were already at the clinic volunteering in other ways like cleaning and painting, and would help in unloading the truck.
Mr. Schmidt stood up and waved to him. "I'm going to lock up the storage shed, and finish things up here. We're behind you about a half hour." He began to walk across the field pushing the tool chest cart.
A small convoy of expensive cars including Marissa's followed the truck out of the driveway.
"Get drastic and fight the Santa Ana; let's hydrate." Seth walked to a refreshment stand. He handed Ryan a bottle of water.
"Damn, this is taking forever. We're the last group. We don't want you to be late for," Seth stretched the next word, "yogalates tonight." He turned and searched the area for Summer. "I don't think we can count on Summer or Marissa. The yearbook and hospital newsletter photo ops at the clinic could take a while."
"It wouldn't have taken so long if you had helped me more."
"You just have to drill some holes, screw on the hardware, drag the cabinets down to the truck, then we're done. God, everyone is so lost without me."
Ryan scowled and opened his cell phone to speed dial Sandy.
Waiting for Sandy to pick up, they could hear Brad talking to Summer but couldn't make out the words.
Sandy answered the phone.
Ryan said, "Hey Sandy, it's me. The girls are busy and we'll need a ride after all."
Brad raised his voice. "Summer, you've always been really hot. All the guys on the team think so. I hate to see you wasting it on that queer."
Seth looked shocked for a moment before he headed toward the voices. Ryan hurried to follow. Sandy was forgotten for the moment.
"Brad, you are such a jackass," Summer was heard saying.
"I'll be a jackass if you'll be my polo pony."
"Eww!" Summer laughed mockingly at Brad. "Oh my god... just, eww."
Ryan and Seth came around the side of the truck and saw Summer being backed up against the truck, blocked in by Brad's arms. She had put on the full Newport Group regalia of tee shirt, hard hat, and tool belt. The hat tipped forward as she knocked its back against the truck.
Brad stepped closer to Summer, took off the hard hat, and leaned in to force a kiss. Summer's eyes flashed with anger and she held her palms out to ward him off.
"Hey, get off of her." Seth put his hand on Brad's shoulder and tried to spin him around, but Brad only turned his head and looked at him contemptuously.
Summer ducked out from between Brad's arms. Brad turned to face them. His eyes narrowed angrily at Seth's intrusion. "You know she'd rather have any of us if it wasn't for your Mommy's money." Brad raised his voice playing to the small crowd that gathered.
There were three cheerleaders, and a couple of Brad's teammates still around. The girls tittered and the guys tensed up, eager for some excitement.
Summer acted before anyone else did, and stepped between Brad and Seth. She stared hard at Brad who looked at her resentfully before dropping his gaze. She held a screwdriver in her hand. "The only thing I know is the pain this screw is gonna cause when I jam it up your Brad-ass."
Summer wheeled and turned to Seth. "And Cohen, do I look like a damsel in distress? I'll ask for help when I need it."
"Saved by your girlfriend?" Brad taunted. He stepped around Summer and toward Seth.
Brad pushed against Seth's chest with open hands. Seth stumbled backwards a few steps.
"Whatever, Bradford. Just stay away from her." Seth opened his hands to his side, and backed away from Brad's advances. "The Geneva Convention of schoolyard bullying clearly states when someone is backing away, unarmed like I am, the aggressor is obliged to back down."
Brad accepted the surrender by punching Seth in the face. Seth's hand went up to too late to block it. His head snapped back and he backpedaled. He touched his lip and looked at the blood on his fingers. He stared at it for a moment then at Brad, seeming to disbelieve what he saw.
A few in the group laughed.
Summer yelled to them, "Hilter's youth much?" Then to Brad she added, "Cut this macho shit out!"
Brad smiled at her without replying. He cracked his knuckles.
Summer went to Ryan's side. "I'm going to get the Mole-man." She ran across the field in the direction Mr. Schmidt had gone.
Ryan tensed and stood taller, ready to help. His hands clenched and he remembered Sandy on the other end of the cell phone.
Ryan lifted the phone to his hear. Sandy could be heard shouting, "Ryan? Ryan?" He must have heard the commotion and stayed on the line.
"Sandy, ummm yeah, it's Ryan. Seth's in a fight."
"Seth? Where the hell are the chaperones? Damn it." There was a pause. "I'm already on my way."
"Sandy, it might be bad. It's a water polo guy and two of his friends are around. It might be better if I helped."
"No! You can't afford to get in another fight no matter what, you know that."
Ryan nodded vaguely into the cell phone and put it in his tool belt pouch.
"Hey, let's not do this, Brad," Ryan said. Brad was circling Seth.
"This is too stupid to be really happening. Am I being punked? Or what – are we eight?" Seth asked. His lip was already swelling.
When Ryan stepped forward in an offer to help, Seth shook his head adamantly.
"No babe to save you. No boyfriend to save you. What are you going to do now, Cohen?"
Seth seemed to realize he wasn't getting out of this; his chest rose and fell rapidly. He glanced at Ryan, a panicked expression on his face.
Ryan's heart raced and he fought to breath evenly. He battled with himself, debating whether to step in despite Seth's wishes, despite Sandy's pleas. Brad had the clear weight, height, and training advantages. Ryan wanted so much to pay back Brad and all the water polo playing bullies, but something held him back. He had made promises to the Cohens, people he cared about. Promises made to people who cared about him despite all his faults and knack for getting them hurt.
Seth put his arms to his side and sighed loudly in an apparent admission of defeat. Then he swung wildly at Brad who was caught surprised. Seth hit his nose solidly.
Brad stood dazed for a moment.
"Cohen, throwing it down." The male voice began mockingly but ended less certainly as Brad bent over in pain and his blood began to drip through his hands he held to his face.
Brad seemed to be recharged by the verbage and stomped angrily toward Seth. His first was already cocked and he didn't sneak in or seem to think Seth would put up much of a defense.
Seth was shaking out his fist when Brad's swing contacted his chin. Seth's head snapped back. When he regained his balance, his eyes grew wide with fear.
Without pause Seth launched himself at Brad, locking his arms in front of him to strike the other boy's middle. He fell on top of Brad and pinned his knees against his chest. Seth seemed momentarily surprised before he let out an undecipherable roar and began pummeling Brad in the face and chest. Brad put his arms up and tried to roll Seth off of him, but Seth was in a frenzy of motion.
There was a general astonishment as the small group of witnesses stood frozen in place. Then Brad's friends, Chip and Blaine, rushed forward and easily pulled off Seth.
"Stay out of it, man." Ryan tried to hold them back and was only successful in grabbing Chip.
The two squared off, dancing and trading jabs, but neither landing anything solidly. Ryan turned his head to see how Seth was doing.
Seth was hunched over and protecting his face and chest from a barrage of punches. Blaine was joined by Brad, and they took turns pushing Seth back and forth between them. Then Brad held Seth's shoulder and put all his weight into a punch to Seth's stomach. Seth gasped and tripped backwards. He broke his fall with his right arm. Brad kicked him in the ribs on the way down. Seth arched his back against the kick, and his head hit the pavement.
Chip's fist slammed into Ryan's mouth, recalling his attention. Ryan tried to back away and to go Seth, but Chip kept attacking. Ryan absorbed the punches as he edged toward Seth.
Out of the corner of Ryan's eye, he saw people approach - Sandy, Mr. Schmidt and Summer.
"Stop. Now," Sandy bellowed.
Everyone obeyed, surprised by the newcomers.
Ryan lowered his fists warily. He gasped trying to catch his breath and looked around.
Seth lay too quietly on the ground. Ryan hesitantly glanced up at Sandy. Sandy's face was ashen as he ran to Seth's side.
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Authors notes: Yikes, I really wanted to finish before the new season. This chapter was rushed but one more is needed, I think. I may throw myself at it to avoid politics tomorrow. By the way, my reference to the ugly brown shirt was stolen from the boards – I hope whoever said it doesn't mind. I needed a fashion statement and don't know much about it to form my own opinion. Thanks for the generous reviews on the previous chapters!