Okay, seriously, this time there is no angst. A little guilt perhaps but
no angst. I'll have to make up for the "angstlessness" in later chapters.
Thank you for all your reviews and comments.
The characters are not mine, but I will arm wrestle Josh for ownership. I would win...
Chapter Nine.
Marissa looked at her swollen mouth in her review mirror again. The split in her bottom lip had already started to crust over. All the cover up in the world couldn't hide it. However, the bottle of Stoli tucked in beside the seat would help numb the pain.
She couldn't believe Summer chose Seth over her. They had been friends since pre-school, bonding over teasing "Little Sethie Cohen" until he cried. Now Summer was in love with that geek.
Marissa fumbled with the cap of the vodka, carefully bringing the bottle upward. The alcohol burned her throat and stung her injured lip. She tried to re-cap the bottle but fumbled, spilling the alcohol over the seat and floor of the car. She drove through a stop sign. She may not have seen the police officer, but he certainly saw her. It took several blocks before she realized the sirens were following her. She pulled off to the side of the road, partially parking her car up and over the curb.
A grim-faced officer approached the car.
"Can I see your license and registration..."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Seth returned to the hotel room, carrying a box full of the flyers he had picked up from Kwik-Kopy. Unable to juggle the box and open the door, he settled for giving the door a couple of kicks. The noise ricocheted down the hall. His room door wasn't the only one that opened. Seth sheepishly apologized to the other guests as his father led him into the room.
John Rueben was there.
He opened the box and studied the flyer. Unlike the grainy mug shot the police used when they sent out the missing persons report, The Cohens used one of the few pictures they had of Ryan when he'd actually been caught smiling. He looked so at ease in the picture.
Looking at the paper, Sandy remembered when the picture had been taken. Nothing special, just the family enjoying each other's company, joking about Seth's unruly hair, Sandy's liberal views, Ryan's lack of verbal skills and Kirsten's cooking. He smiled to himself. They always joked about Kirsten's cooking. Kirsten usually made the most jokes, hinting that he or Ryan should take over full time kitchen duty.
Sandy ran his fingers over the picture. This was the image of Ryan Sandy wanted people to see.
A real picture of a real kid.
The Cohen's name and cell phone numbers were in large print, placed underneath the few sentences that described Ryan.
Seth waited until John looked up.
"So what do we do with these?"
The investigator looked at both Cohens.
"We blitz the area. Every store, every social agency, any place that will let us put these up. You two will start here and I'll head over to the outlying county."
Seth didn't say anything although the phrase "needle in a haystack" came to mind. As hard as he tried to stay optimistic, he couldn't help but feel that the longer Ryan was gone, the less chance he'd come home.
If they even found him.
Seth needed reassurance. Reassurance that the relationship between them wasn't fucked up beyond repair. He was dangerously close to drowning in the deep end of guilt. No matter how much he tried to keep his head up and stay focused on finding Ryan, the undertow of regret kept pulling him under.
Oh great, not only was he an idiot, but now he was using swimming metaphors.
Seth Cohen didn't have pity parties.
Yes he did.
No, not really... Well okay, only when he was alone.
But that wasn't a pity party.
That was masturbation...
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Summer barely noticed how fast she was driving. 80mph was now the new 70mph which was the old 60mph. At this speed, she'd be in Sacramento by midnight.
Holiday Inn.
Ew... but she'd "rough it" for Ryan's sake... And Seth's sake... although she'd never admit it to him. He wasn't finished his penance yet.
Penance? Was that a Jewish thing?
Her mind wandered to the encounter with Marissa that morning. Truth be told, her hand was sore, but not as sore as she imagined Coop's mouth was. Had Marissa always been this cruel and shallow?
Had "she"?
Summer knew she used to behave no better than Marissa. Her only concern was the next party and the next sale at Theodore's.
The difference now was that she had outgrown all that.
She had outgrown Marissa.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Marissa wrapped her thin arms around her torso. She'd spent the night in a cell, unable to get a hold of anyone to get her out. She couldn't comprehend the charges against her.
Driving under the influence, open liquour in a moving vehicle, drunk and disorderly, drinking underage, failure to stop, resisting arrest, assault on an officer.
She had vague memories of raking her manicured nails down the officer's face. The charges must be a joke. All she needed was to call her parents... someone... anyone and she'd be able to go home. This was no place for her. She wasn't a criminal, she just had a few drinks.
Where the hell was everybody? Why weren't they answering their phones? Tears started to well up in her eyes. She briefly wondered if her mascara was running.
It was morning now, wasn't it? Maybe if she asked nicely, the police would let her use the phone again. Hopefully, the officer she spat on last night had gone home...
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sandy quietly opened the door to the hotel room, his hands laden with coffee and doughnuts.
The "Breakfast of Champions".
He was tempted to slam the door behind him, but after Seth's little door kicking escapade the night before, he decided no to. Clearing off a spot on the table, he put the coffee down. Seth stirred from the cot they had housekeeping bring in. Summer was asleep in what was supposed to be Seth's bed.
Surprise didn't even come close to describing his reaction when Summer had shown up shortly after 12, sashaying through the door. Sandy then realized that she would provide a distraction for Seth. He could see the guilt his son felt over his part in Ryan's leaving was ready to erupt, despite his attempts to quell it.
He knew, because it was a war he waged with himself.
Guilt was a demanding mistress.
Poking and prodding, fighting for his attention.
He couldn't allow himself to serve that emotion.
He needed to keep focused on finding Ryan, on bringing their fractured family back together.
He'd embrace his mistress later.
Sandy didn't notice that Summer had gotten out of bed. She emerged from the washroom fully dressed. She "accidently" kicked the cot where Seth was sleeping.
"Wake up Cohen... We've got a lot to do..." Realizing that Seth was not the only Cohen in the room, she smiled weakly at Sandy.
"Sorry..." She looked at the tray of coffee cups. "Is one of those for me? It's not decaf is it?"
"Uh, no..." Sandy stammered. "Help uh, help yourself..."
The Cohen charm. Seth definitely inherited it from his father. Summer rifled through the box of doughnuts.
"Ooh, carbs and processed sugar.... I'm in heaven..." She kicked the cot again, this time a little harder. Seth sat straight up. Pillow creases criss-crossed his cheek.
"I'm up... I'm up."
Seth felt as if his skull was ready to implode.
"My head... It won't stop ringing..."
Summer held a coffee in front of him.
"It's your dad's cell phone, you idiot."
"I love it when you talk dirty to me..."
Seth gratefully took the coffee from Summer.
"What happened to your hand?"
"Rage blackout." She answered in a tone that told Seth not to ask anymore questions. She sat down on the fold-up bed. Seth took a sip of his coffee.
"Are we okay... You know..."
"I'll tell you what, we'll put your groveling on hold until we find Chino. Then you can make it up to both of us."
"If Ryan will ever speak to me again..."
Summer put her arm around Seth's shoulder.
"He wasn't very talkative before, so how will you know if he's not speaking to you?"
"Marissa, I can't..."
Their heads snapped up as they heard Sandy speak into the phone.
"Look, I'm 6 hours away."
"The best I can do is call someone from my firm, but the police are not going to release you until they can get a hold of your mom or dad."
"No... they won't release you into Kirsten's custody."
"Marissa, just hang tight okay? I'll make some phone calls..."
Sandy looked stunned as he put his phone down.
"Dad, what is it?"
Sandy had a hard time saying the words out loud.
"Marissa's been arrested..."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Yesterday, Ryan had been pouring concrete. Today he was working on another part of the jobsite, laying shingles on the plywood roof.
He tried not to look down. The last thing he needed was to be razzed about his fear of heights. He concentrated on nailing down the tar paper and driving a nail to hold the row of shingles in place while Greg used a nail gun to secure them.
The sun was baking him, his 'beater clung to his body.
"Hey Marty.... Greg... Heads up!"
Ryan caught the bottle of cold water that Roger lobbed. Greg came and sat beside him.
"How's the apartment?"
"It's good... thanks..."
"You think you're going to stay in Carmichael?"
Ryan took a lengthy sip, draining half the bottle.
"I'm not sure... I like it here though..."
Ryan removed his hard hat and poured the rest of the water over his head.
Greg stood up.
"Let's finish this up ... I hate heights..."
The characters are not mine, but I will arm wrestle Josh for ownership. I would win...
Chapter Nine.
Marissa looked at her swollen mouth in her review mirror again. The split in her bottom lip had already started to crust over. All the cover up in the world couldn't hide it. However, the bottle of Stoli tucked in beside the seat would help numb the pain.
She couldn't believe Summer chose Seth over her. They had been friends since pre-school, bonding over teasing "Little Sethie Cohen" until he cried. Now Summer was in love with that geek.
Marissa fumbled with the cap of the vodka, carefully bringing the bottle upward. The alcohol burned her throat and stung her injured lip. She tried to re-cap the bottle but fumbled, spilling the alcohol over the seat and floor of the car. She drove through a stop sign. She may not have seen the police officer, but he certainly saw her. It took several blocks before she realized the sirens were following her. She pulled off to the side of the road, partially parking her car up and over the curb.
A grim-faced officer approached the car.
"Can I see your license and registration..."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Seth returned to the hotel room, carrying a box full of the flyers he had picked up from Kwik-Kopy. Unable to juggle the box and open the door, he settled for giving the door a couple of kicks. The noise ricocheted down the hall. His room door wasn't the only one that opened. Seth sheepishly apologized to the other guests as his father led him into the room.
John Rueben was there.
He opened the box and studied the flyer. Unlike the grainy mug shot the police used when they sent out the missing persons report, The Cohens used one of the few pictures they had of Ryan when he'd actually been caught smiling. He looked so at ease in the picture.
Looking at the paper, Sandy remembered when the picture had been taken. Nothing special, just the family enjoying each other's company, joking about Seth's unruly hair, Sandy's liberal views, Ryan's lack of verbal skills and Kirsten's cooking. He smiled to himself. They always joked about Kirsten's cooking. Kirsten usually made the most jokes, hinting that he or Ryan should take over full time kitchen duty.
Sandy ran his fingers over the picture. This was the image of Ryan Sandy wanted people to see.
A real picture of a real kid.
The Cohen's name and cell phone numbers were in large print, placed underneath the few sentences that described Ryan.
Seth waited until John looked up.
"So what do we do with these?"
The investigator looked at both Cohens.
"We blitz the area. Every store, every social agency, any place that will let us put these up. You two will start here and I'll head over to the outlying county."
Seth didn't say anything although the phrase "needle in a haystack" came to mind. As hard as he tried to stay optimistic, he couldn't help but feel that the longer Ryan was gone, the less chance he'd come home.
If they even found him.
Seth needed reassurance. Reassurance that the relationship between them wasn't fucked up beyond repair. He was dangerously close to drowning in the deep end of guilt. No matter how much he tried to keep his head up and stay focused on finding Ryan, the undertow of regret kept pulling him under.
Oh great, not only was he an idiot, but now he was using swimming metaphors.
Seth Cohen didn't have pity parties.
Yes he did.
No, not really... Well okay, only when he was alone.
But that wasn't a pity party.
That was masturbation...
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Summer barely noticed how fast she was driving. 80mph was now the new 70mph which was the old 60mph. At this speed, she'd be in Sacramento by midnight.
Holiday Inn.
Ew... but she'd "rough it" for Ryan's sake... And Seth's sake... although she'd never admit it to him. He wasn't finished his penance yet.
Penance? Was that a Jewish thing?
Her mind wandered to the encounter with Marissa that morning. Truth be told, her hand was sore, but not as sore as she imagined Coop's mouth was. Had Marissa always been this cruel and shallow?
Had "she"?
Summer knew she used to behave no better than Marissa. Her only concern was the next party and the next sale at Theodore's.
The difference now was that she had outgrown all that.
She had outgrown Marissa.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Marissa wrapped her thin arms around her torso. She'd spent the night in a cell, unable to get a hold of anyone to get her out. She couldn't comprehend the charges against her.
Driving under the influence, open liquour in a moving vehicle, drunk and disorderly, drinking underage, failure to stop, resisting arrest, assault on an officer.
She had vague memories of raking her manicured nails down the officer's face. The charges must be a joke. All she needed was to call her parents... someone... anyone and she'd be able to go home. This was no place for her. She wasn't a criminal, she just had a few drinks.
Where the hell was everybody? Why weren't they answering their phones? Tears started to well up in her eyes. She briefly wondered if her mascara was running.
It was morning now, wasn't it? Maybe if she asked nicely, the police would let her use the phone again. Hopefully, the officer she spat on last night had gone home...
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sandy quietly opened the door to the hotel room, his hands laden with coffee and doughnuts.
The "Breakfast of Champions".
He was tempted to slam the door behind him, but after Seth's little door kicking escapade the night before, he decided no to. Clearing off a spot on the table, he put the coffee down. Seth stirred from the cot they had housekeeping bring in. Summer was asleep in what was supposed to be Seth's bed.
Surprise didn't even come close to describing his reaction when Summer had shown up shortly after 12, sashaying through the door. Sandy then realized that she would provide a distraction for Seth. He could see the guilt his son felt over his part in Ryan's leaving was ready to erupt, despite his attempts to quell it.
He knew, because it was a war he waged with himself.
Guilt was a demanding mistress.
Poking and prodding, fighting for his attention.
He couldn't allow himself to serve that emotion.
He needed to keep focused on finding Ryan, on bringing their fractured family back together.
He'd embrace his mistress later.
Sandy didn't notice that Summer had gotten out of bed. She emerged from the washroom fully dressed. She "accidently" kicked the cot where Seth was sleeping.
"Wake up Cohen... We've got a lot to do..." Realizing that Seth was not the only Cohen in the room, she smiled weakly at Sandy.
"Sorry..." She looked at the tray of coffee cups. "Is one of those for me? It's not decaf is it?"
"Uh, no..." Sandy stammered. "Help uh, help yourself..."
The Cohen charm. Seth definitely inherited it from his father. Summer rifled through the box of doughnuts.
"Ooh, carbs and processed sugar.... I'm in heaven..." She kicked the cot again, this time a little harder. Seth sat straight up. Pillow creases criss-crossed his cheek.
"I'm up... I'm up."
Seth felt as if his skull was ready to implode.
"My head... It won't stop ringing..."
Summer held a coffee in front of him.
"It's your dad's cell phone, you idiot."
"I love it when you talk dirty to me..."
Seth gratefully took the coffee from Summer.
"What happened to your hand?"
"Rage blackout." She answered in a tone that told Seth not to ask anymore questions. She sat down on the fold-up bed. Seth took a sip of his coffee.
"Are we okay... You know..."
"I'll tell you what, we'll put your groveling on hold until we find Chino. Then you can make it up to both of us."
"If Ryan will ever speak to me again..."
Summer put her arm around Seth's shoulder.
"He wasn't very talkative before, so how will you know if he's not speaking to you?"
"Marissa, I can't..."
Their heads snapped up as they heard Sandy speak into the phone.
"Look, I'm 6 hours away."
"The best I can do is call someone from my firm, but the police are not going to release you until they can get a hold of your mom or dad."
"No... they won't release you into Kirsten's custody."
"Marissa, just hang tight okay? I'll make some phone calls..."
Sandy looked stunned as he put his phone down.
"Dad, what is it?"
Sandy had a hard time saying the words out loud.
"Marissa's been arrested..."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Yesterday, Ryan had been pouring concrete. Today he was working on another part of the jobsite, laying shingles on the plywood roof.
He tried not to look down. The last thing he needed was to be razzed about his fear of heights. He concentrated on nailing down the tar paper and driving a nail to hold the row of shingles in place while Greg used a nail gun to secure them.
The sun was baking him, his 'beater clung to his body.
"Hey Marty.... Greg... Heads up!"
Ryan caught the bottle of cold water that Roger lobbed. Greg came and sat beside him.
"How's the apartment?"
"It's good... thanks..."
"You think you're going to stay in Carmichael?"
Ryan took a lengthy sip, draining half the bottle.
"I'm not sure... I like it here though..."
Ryan removed his hard hat and poured the rest of the water over his head.
Greg stood up.
"Let's finish this up ... I hate heights..."