Feedback: Greatly appreciated. I won't withhold writing for feedback, but it certainly makes it feel more worthwhile. I'd love to hear anything, a sentence you liked, a piece of the story, your general thoughts. Anything.
Author's Notes: The title and poetry are from the poem The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Elliot. It has been said that Seth has been planning his escape from Newport since he was five or six, setting the Cohen's return to Newport c. 1992. My version of Seth in this chapter seeks to establish why it was, through shared history among the children, that he is such an outcast. Children can be cruel, but they have their reasons.
Disclaimer: I do not own any original characters or original plots. They belong to the creators of the OC universe. My other plots and prose and unique characters are all mine, copywrited December of 2003, and not for use without my permission.
Chapter 2: Chlorine
Talking of Michelangelo.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, 'Do I dare?' and, 'Do I dare?'
Time to turn back and descend the stair
Monday, September 7, 1992:
Sit still, hon, I can't finish if you keep moving around A hand rested lightly on Summer's head and turned it so she was looking forward again. Summer wriggled back into place, trying her very best to sit still. She wanted to admire her brand new white Keds, with the laces she could tie all by herself. But Zoë couldn't french-braid her hair if she kept swinging her legs.
Zoë had been her baby-sitter for two years. Right after Mommy had left, Daddy had hired Zoë to stay with Summer during the day, and sometimes at night. Summer always thought of Zoë like sunshine, bright and beautiful and fun. She had blond curly hair that she wore pulled back with a headband, just like Keri on the Mickey Mouse Club. Whenever Summer asked, Zoë would paint her toenails or french-braid her hair. And unlike Mommy, she was always ready to play house or dolls.
She never did take Summer to the beach, though. She said it was too dangerous, there weren't enough lifeguards, she might lose Summer. Instead, they went and used the pool at the country club, indoor in the winter and outdoor as soon as the weather was warm enough. After a few hours the chlorine always stung Summer's eyes, but she still had fun. She would play in the shallow end with the other kids her age, while Zoë sunbathed on a deck chair nearby and smiled at the boy lifeguards. She smiled at them differently than she smiled at Summer. Sometimes, Summer had noticed, she smiled at Daddy like that too. Smiled like she knew a secret.
Okay, hon, you're all set. Zoë patted her head and leaned down. You ready to go?
Summer slid off her bed and skipped over to the mirror on the back of her door. Her uniform — the standard issue blue plaid skirt and polo shirt of Newport Country Day — made her look like a real big girl. She had loved shopping for the uniform with Zoë, knowing that she would look like all the other girls on the first day.
You're going to be the smartest girl in your class, I just know it. Zoë hopped off the bed and opened the door. Come on! I'll race you to the driveway.
On the ride to school, Zoë let Summer sit up front. Mommy had never let her, but as long as she didn't tell Daddy, Zoë didn't mind. Summer pressed her nose to the glass as they pulled into the parking lot. She'd been irrepressible for the last week, over the moon with the idea of starting school. She could already write the whole alphabet, spell her full name, and Zoë's as well. She even knew that Zoë had two dots over the e in her name. She wondered if anyone else knew that much.
Zoë held her hand as they joined the milling crowd of kindergartners and parents waiting in the courtyard, while Summer looked around her for the familiar faces of her friends from the pool. She saw Holly and Emily standing with their mothers and dragged Zoë towards them. It was always comforting to be around other mothers who looked like Mommy, with perfect hair and tailored pantsuits.
Hello, Summer, Holly's mom smiled down at Summer.
Emily was just asking me when you'd get here, Emily's mom added. Her smile faded as she looked askance at Zoë. I don't believe we've met.
Zoë is Summer's baby-sitter, Holly's mom offered quickly, before Zoë could introduce herself.
Emily's mom arched an eyebrow. I see. She shared an amused glance with Holly's mom.
Zoë shifted nervously behind Summer, then crouched in front of her. Okay, hon, I've gotta go, or I'm gonna be late for class. She stood and smiled apologetically at the other women. I'm trying to finish up my business degree. They regarded her coolly.
Then Zoë was gone, winding her way through the crowd. Holly and Emily were whispering together, being momentarily exclusive, so Summer stood slightly apart, looking carefully at her new classmates. Looking for smiling faces and potential friends. Looking for other mothers who reminded her of Mommy's sophisticated, comforting presence.
Oh my god, Emily's mom exclaimed suddenly. Holly and Emily were still whispering and didn't seem to hear, but Summer looked up to see Emily's mom grasp Holly's mom's arm. Over there, isn't that—
—Kirsten Nichol, you're right! I can't believe it. I haven't seen her in years!
Well, she hasn't been back here since she stopped speaking to her dad, Emily's mom explained. Over some loser she met at Berkeley, can you imagine? I guess that's over now.
There's only one way to find out, Holly's mom said in an undertone, then called out brightly, Kirsten! Over here! Across the courtyard, a pretty blond woman looked over at them. A brief flicker of surprise crossed her face, then she smiled and walked in their direction. As she drew closer, Summer was able to her more clearly: she looked nothing like anyone Summer had ever seen in Newport. Her long blond hair wasn't permed or styled, but hung in a braid down her back. She was wearing jeans and open-toed sandals, and didn't seem to have any make-up on at all.
Mandy, Laura, she greeted them warmly, it's great to see you.
Holly's mom kissed her cheek, then stepped back, shaking her head. Kirsten Nichol, I really don't believe it. What are you doing here?
Actually, it's Kirsten Cohen now. Kirsten brushed a strand of hair from her face, seeming not to notice the look that passed between the other two. And I'm here because I've moved back. I'm joining my dad's business.
Well! That's exciting! How does it feel to be back?
Kirsten grinned wryly.
Emily's mom tilted her head. But what are you doing here?
At that moment a skinny, dark haired boy ran straight into Kirsten's back, knocking her forward a step. Hey, there, kiddo, she said, as he wrapped his arms around her waist. This is my son, Kirsten explained. She pulled him in front of her, tousling his hair with a fond look on her face.
I'm starting kindergarten today, Seth announced. Because I'm five. He held up five fingers.
So what? Holly asked meanly, hands on her hips. I'm five too.
Seth ignored her, dropping into a crouch to follow the path of an ant along the ground. His hair was curly and looked like it hadn't been trimmed in awhile. He tilted his head thoughtfully as he watched the ant's progress, a strangely adult gesture which was ruined when he stuck a finger up his nose.
Summer whispered to Holly and Emily. He's picking his nose! They giggled wildly, smiling at her, and suddenly she felt included. After a minute Seth removed his finger, studied it, then wiped it on his pants. The three girls giggled harder.
Are you excited to back in Newport, Seth? Holly's mom asked sweetly.
Seth squinted up at her, appearing to ponder the question. Actually, I'm apathetic, he finally concluded, pronouncing the words with care.
Holly's mom straightened abruptly and Kirsten looked embarrassed. Seth's a little precocious. She pulled him upright from his crouch, dusting at the front of his shirt.
Where's your belt? Emily asked suddenly, accusingly. Her mother hushed her, and she protested, But it's part of the uniform!
Where is your belt? Kirsten demanded, inspecting Seth.
What belt? he asked innocently. Kirsten gave him a look, and he giggled.
Kirsten sighed. He's always losing things in the strangest places. I'd better go find his belt. Come on, mister. She hurried off, steering Seth in front of her and calling over her shoulder, Great seeing you again!
Emily's mom remarked, after Kirsten had gone, that was interesting.
I'll say, Holly's mom agreed. She added softly, I heard that man from Berkeley was a penniless lawyer. From the Bronx.
And they're living in Newport Beach now? Well, this is going to be fun.
Emily was tugging on her mother's arm. Can Holly come over and play after school? Her mother hushed her with a pointed look in Summer's direction, and Summer knew she wasn't invited.
The doors opened and the crowd began to drift into the school; a few kids were crying as they said goodbye to their parents. Summer felt a little like crying herself. She had thought that Emily and Holly were starting to include her, but the moment of closeness had apparently been fleeting. Now, as she stepped out of the sunlight into the cool, dark hallway of the building, starting school didn't seem like such a bright prospect after all.
It was late, but Summer couldn't sleep. After a long day at school, filled with the exhaustion of new routines and new faces, she wanted to tell Daddy about her day. But he was working late, and Zoë had made Summer go to bed before he came home. You've got school tomorrow, remember? she had asked, tucking the covers up to Summer's chin. When Summer had looked away, out the window, Zoë had smoothed her hair and asked her what was wrong. But Summer had just turned over and closed her eyes, unable to explain why she was upset.
Mommy had promised in her last letter that she would call after Summer's first day. All afternoon Summer had watched the telephone, certain that it would ring at any moment. She wanted to tell Mommy all about her teacher, Miss Bell, and her classmates and her uniform and how she didn't get lost at school even once. But the house was silent, all afternoon. After dinner, Zoë had convinced her to go into the TV room and watch Beauty and the Beast, promising to fetch her if Mommy called. It wasn't until Summer was watching the closing scene of the movie that she had realized that the phone had remained silent.
Mommy was living in New York City now. She sent Summer letters all about the city, about the bright lights and the opera tickets and taxi cabs, about the Sunday mornings with and bagels and lox. New York City was Mommy's home, and Summer's other grandparents still lived there. Zoë had helped Summer find New York City on a map, and it had looked so very far away from Newport. Summer wondered why Mommy wanted to be so far away from her; was she happier in New York City? Whenever Mommy called on the phone, she sounded different: breathless and excited. She was always in a hurry now, but this was the first time she had promised to call and forgotten.
Downstairs, the front door slammed. Summer sat up in bed and peered out the front window. Daddy's car was in the driveway, and she could hear his voice downstairs. He was often out past her bedtime these days. She was used to listening to him arrive home, the murmur of voices as he checked in with Zoë, then Zoë leaving and him entering his office. Sometimes he worked late into the night, clicking away at his new personal computer that she wasn't allowed to touch. She waited, listening absently to the familiar sounds. After a few minutes, there was silence, and Summer climbed out of bed.
She peered out into the hallway, then padded barefoot down the stairs, holding tight to the banister, her feet making no sound in the thick carpeting. It was dark downstairs, all the lights were out. The only light came from the streetlights outside and the open door to Daddy's office. Soft, murky jazz was playing softly from inside the room. Summer crept towards that square of warm yellow light, tiptoeing with anticipation.
She had a vivid memory from before Mommy left, when she had woken up in the middle of the night and gone downstairs to find Daddy. She had poked her head into his office, watching him working seriously at his desk, shirtsleeves rolled up. After a few minutes, he had seen her, looked startled for a moment, then beckoned her inside. She had climbed up into his lap and he had kissed her hair and let her watch while he wrote on a notepad.
After Mommy left, the door to his office was always closed.
But now the door was open again, and Summer hoped that before he sent her back to bed he would let her tell him about her first day of school. It had been a long time since she had talked to him at all. She stepped into the light of the doorway, poised to run into the room, and froze.
Daddy was sitting in his chair, but he wasn't alone. He was turned away from his computer, leaning back as he faced the door. Zoë was kneeling in front of him, her back to Summer, her head between his legs. He had both hands tangled in her curly hair, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. Oh yeah, baby, right there, Summer heard him whisper. Oh yeah. Zoë didn't answer, but her head began to move up and down as if she were nodding in agreement; Daddy groaned.
Summer stood in the doorway, frozen, transfixed by this mysterious tableau. She felt certain that she shouldn't interrupt, although she had no idea why. But it seemed wrong to stand and stare without making a sound. She didn't know what she was seeing, couldn't understand the look of grim pleasure on Daddy's face, but she knew she was witnessing something important, something adult. Something that frightened her.
Daddy opened his eyes, saw her, and sat upright with a jerk, roughly pushing Zoë away from him. Zoë fell back on her hands, turning to see Summer as well. Her eyes went wide and she froze, with one hand wiping at her mouth. You're supposed to be asleep, Daddy said hoarsely, fumbling with his belt as he stood up.
Summer ran. Ignoring Daddy calling for her to come back, she scrambled back up the stairs and into her room, burrowing under the covers. Downstairs, Zoë was talking hurriedly, her voice anxious, and then the front door slammed. Daddy climbed the stairs, his tread weary.
He knocked on the open door. She lay silently, wondering what he was going to say, what she wanted him to say. She had no idea what she wanted. No idea, really, why she was even upset. She supposed it was because she wished Daddy spent more time with her, instead of with Zoë. But now that he was here, in her room, she didn't want to talk to him anymore.
He took one step towards her bed. Look, Summer, it may be hard for you to understand, but adults need friends just like children do. Zoë's always been your friend...but now she's my friend too. And most of the time, we can all be friends together. But sometimes Zoë and I will want to be friends...alone. The same way you sometimes like to play alone with your friends. He coughed awkwardly. I hope you can understand that.
Summer lifted her head off the pillow and stared at him, confused. Misinterpreting her look, he smiled and ruffled her hair. Of course you understand. You're a smart girl. He moved to the door, pulling it shut behind him. Good night.
Summer rolled over and stuck her thumb in her mouth, something she hadn't done in over a year. Her eyes stung with tears, tears she was trying to hold back because she couldn't explain them. The stinging at the corners of her eyelids reminded her of all the times she'd opened her eyes underwater at the pool. She always wanted to be able to see clearly, but every time the chlorine burned her eyes.