Bad Behavior – Chap 8

Making Mistakes

Walking into the kitchen Ryan yawned and reached for a cup of coffee. He liked these quiet mornings when he could have a few minutes to himself. He hadn't slept well all weekend. His mind was consumed with the challenges of his new life, particularly his school. He hated it there. The devil on his shoulder was constantly pushing him to skip class and today he was in the mood to do it. Maybe he would. Just one day to clear his head a bit.

"You look lost in thought," Seth interrupted. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Fine," Ryan replied, nonchalantly sipping his cup of coffee.

"Ryan," Seth pried. "I know that look. What's up?"

"Nothing."

"Good morning gentlemen," Sandy crooned entering the kitchen. "What's up this morning?"

"Apparently nothing," Seth egged on.

Ryan shot Seth a look while Sandy filled a travel mug with coffee.

"Well have fun doing nothing. I'm late. I'll see you guys tonight."

Leaning against the counter Seth stared at the back of Ryan's head.

"Seth…what do you want?"

"How did you know I was staring at you? That's just creepy man."

Turning around to face him, Ryan leaned against the opposite counter in silence.

"Come on man. Talk to me."

Checking the kitchen door, "I'm not going today."

"Ryan! You have to go!"

"No I don't!" he replied contorting his face, twice as disgusted.

"Ryan I don't mean that in the goodie-goodie sense." Crossing the kitchen Seth lowered his voice, "After that encounter with you-know-who last Friday, you have to go. If you don't she's gonna think she got to you and that you're backing down."

Ryan thought on Seth's words for a moment. "Are you actually encouraging me to torment the Dean of your school?"

Pretending to consider the question, "Um…yes. Yes I am."

An evil smirk lit up Ryan's face and it spread to Seth's face.

"Uh huh. Now THAT is what I'm talking about!" Seth mocked.

"What's going on in here?" Kirsten inquired, looking at the two smiling faces in her kitchen.

"Nothing," Ryan shrugged, at which point Seth spit out his coffee.

Kirsten watched Ryan hiding a smile behind his cup of coffee while Seth quickly wiped up the counter from his laughing fit.

"I probably don't want to know what's so funny, do I?"

"Really, it's nothing."

"Ryan, you're killing me!" Seth laughed again. "Please go get dressed for school so I can stop inhaling my coffee."

After Ryan had left the kitchen, "Well it looks like you guys are off to a great start today," Kirsten enthused.

"I hope so," Seth muttered to himself.

Entering the school, the boys walked right down the main hallway past the offices where Ryan noticed Dr. Kim standing in the lobby, watching the students arrive for the day. She snuck a quick glance at Ryan before looking away. Clearly she was still unnerved by his presence and the fact that he wasn't going to forget Friday's encounter as quickly as she hoped. That was in his favor. Instead of avoiding her, Ryan walked right up to her.

"Morning," he greeted.

Acting uncomfortable, she crossed her arms and looked across the lobby instead of at Ryan. "Ryan," she acknowledged.

"So what do you think?"

"About what?" she asked snapping her head in his direction, clearly concerned about his intentions behind that comment.

Sighing, "I was just wondering if you thought it was going to be a good day."

Ryan noticed her picking at the button on the cuff of her suit. "Monday's can be a little tough. First day back after the weekend usually is…but I think it'll be fine."

Ryan jutted his chin out matter-of-factly, "Hope you're right," he offered, with a hint of warning in his tone. Turning on his heel, he left her wondering what might come next.

"Well well, look who came to school today boys. If it isn't Little Boy Blue Collar."

Ryan ignored the comment and emptied his backpack into his locker. Pulling out the necessary books for his morning classes, he became aware of the fact that several of the water polo crew had walked over to him.

"What do you want?" Ryan asked without looking up.

"It's obvious isn't it? We want you gone! You don't belong here!" Blaine teased.

"And this coming from the mouth of someone I've already taken down once," Ryan threatened.

"You caught me off guard."

Ryan laughed and went toe to toe with the boy. "I'm ready any time you are."

The boy swallowed hard but didn't move…until Ryan turned to walk away from him. Using his fist, Blaine knocked Ryan's books to the floor.

Freezing in his spot, Ryan dropped his head to the floor looking at the books, grinding his teeth. Raising his head to the Newpsie-daredevil-wanna-be, "Pick 'em up," Ryan demanded.

"No."

In the blink of an eye, Ryan grabbed the boy by the hair, kicked one of his feet out from under him and slammed him to the ground where he fell against the lockers.

Hearing the commotion just outside his door, Mr. Dennon came out of his classroom. "Is there a problem out here gentlemen?"

There was an awkward silence. "No sir," Blaine covered, getting up off the floor, locking eyes with an unwavering Ryan. Bending down again, Blaine picked up Ryan's books and handed them to him.

The teacher gave Ryan a once over before shaking his head and returning to his classroom.

"You done?" Ryan inquired, watching Blaine rub his head where it made contact with the lockers.

"For now."

"Fair enough." Slamming his locker, Ryan turned his back on the group and went to class.

"Kirsten, I have a call from Harbor High on line four," the secretary announced.

"Oh boy. Here we go," she worried, reaching for the phone. "This is Kirsten Cohen."

"Mrs. Cohen, this is Ann in the Attendance Office here at Harbor High. I'm calling to inform you that your son, Ryan, was marked absent from two of his classes this afternoon. Can you confirm if he went home sick?"

Her heart skipped a beat. "Oh, um, no. No he's not sick that I'm aware of. I suppose it's possible my husband may have picked him up. I haven't heard from either of them."

"Well, I'm not showing any visits to the Nurse and we can't seem to locate him. I'll have to mark him down as skipping class. Good Day, Mrs. Cohen."

With the click of the receiver, a chill went down Kirsten's spine. Where was he? Was it starting? Was Ryan slipping back into the person he used to be? She asked her secretary to clear her schedule for the afternoon. She would go home to talk to Ryan. She hoped there was a rational explanation for this.

Several hours had gone by and Kirsten was starting to feel as if she'd worn a path into the floor from pacing. She jumped at the sound of the door opening only to find Sandy coming home with the same look of concern on his face.

"Have you heard from him?"

"No. Nothing. Sandy I don't know what to do. The school called at one o'clock this afternoon, it's almost eight. Where could he be?"

"I made a point of checking out the pier on my way home. He's not there," Sandy added, shaking his head with worry.

"You don't think…he wouldn't leave…would he?"

"He didn't leave." Seth's voice startled his parents and they looked at him with apprehension. "I…we have a pact. Ryan and I, we made an agreement. He said he wouldn't leave without telling me he was leaving first. He didn't say anything to me so…he's still around. Somewhere."

Kirsten looked pitifully on her natural born son. Her woman's intuition was telling her Ryan ran. Her heart weighed heavily with the pain of knowing Seth wanted so badly to be close to Ryan, to believe that Ryan would confide in him. But that just wasn't like Ryan. Ryan always fought his own battles. Alone. She had no doubt in her mind that if Ryan was indeed going to run away again, he wouldn't tell a soul, promises or not.

"Seth," she paused. "I need you to tell me what happened last week."

"What are you talking about?" Sandy asked, not following where Kirsten was going with this.

"Mom I don't know what you're talking about."

"Seth…please don't lie, or cover up anything."

"Mom I told you, I don't…"

"I know something happened. I just don't know what happened. Ryan made a comment to me that I thought was odd at the time and now that he's gone missing, I'm concerned to say the least. I really need you to tell me what you know."

"Son," Sandy started, trying to support Kirsten's quest for information. "Ryan's your friend. If there's a chance he's in trouble or you know where he is…we need to know. If something should happen and the cops get to him before we do…he'll be gone."

Seth looked away from his parents, mentally wrestling with what the right thing to do was. Tapping the back of the couch softly, he gave a cluttered answer that Ryan himself would have been proud of.

"He's the new kid on the block. There are a lot of adjustments to be made by everyone. He's not the only one pushing the envelope these days."

"What is that supposed to mean?" his father asked.

Kirsten in the meantime took a few steps away and seated herself on the couch with her back to Seth. She recognized the way Seth presented his answer and her mind immediately jumped to the conversation she had with Ryan and his explanation about a Styrofoam cup and china dishes.

"Son, just tell us what you know. Please," Sandy pressed again hoping for a better response.

"I can't," Seth finally admitted. "It's not what Ryan would want."

Now infuriated Kirsten stood up from the couch and wheeled around to face her natural born son. "Right now I don't care what he wants! If you know where he is or what he's doing…"

"I don't I swear. I have no idea where he is or why he left school. He didn't say anything to me. I know last week was rough for him. That's it."

"Seth, why don't you go find something to do for a while, okay?"

The instructions from his Dad came as a relief. He was happy to be free from the interrogation on Ryan's whereabouts. On his way up the stairs, his own mind raced wondering where Ryan was and what he was doing. Would he really leave without saying anything?

"Sandy what are we going to do?"

"There's nothing we can do…except wait."

The evening dragged on with minutes feelings like hours and hours feeling like an eternity. Kirsten found herself nauseous with worry. As time went on, she felt the chances of Ryan coming home were getting more and more slim.

"Kirsten, we need to go to bed. It's almost three o'clock in the morning."

He watched his wife run her hands over her face and through her hair before clasping them on the back of her neck. "What if something happened to him?" she asked without raising her head. "I don't understand this. He was fine. At least as fine as we've seen him."

"If anything has happened or if he got picked up, I assure you that call will come. Let's get some rest. We have no idea what tomorrow is going to bring…and we better be ready for it."

Nodding, Kirsten rose from the couch and gave the front door one last look. "Is it wrong to say I wish he'd walk in the door and throw up on the floor again just so I'd know he's okay?" She gave a weak smile and Sandy wrapped his arms around her.

"Don't give up on him. He's a strong one. We'll find him."

The phone rang interrupting Sandy's pep talk and Kirsten raced across the living room to answer it.

"Hello? Hello?"

"Kirsten?" The voice on the other end was quiet and hoarse.

"Ryan? Ryan is that you? Where are you?"

"I…I made some mistakes today…"

"Ryan it's okay. It's okay to make mistakes."

She turned and looked at Sandy who nodded feverishly so Kirsten would keep coaching Ryan with some encouragement.

"Honey we'll come get you. Just tell us where you are and we'll come get you. We're worried about you and we want to bring you home."

"Home…" Ryan whispered.

"Yes we'll bring you home just tell us where to pick you up. We'll come right now."

"I can't come home like this. I don't want you to see me like this."

"Were you drinking tonight?" she paused, hearing him take a deep breath on the other end of the line. "Ryan it's okay. You can tell me the truth. Is that why your voice is so hoarse?"

There was a labored pause, "Yeah. I had drinks…a lot of drinks. I've been puking, my throat hurts."

"Ryan it's okay. Let us bring you home. We'll take care of you."

Ryan nodded on the phone on his end. "Okay, but…don't bring Sandy okay?"

"But Ryan…"

"Please don't…if you bring him I'll be gone before you can even get here. Please just do this for me."

Pausing, "I'll do this Ryan but you have to tell me why. He's going to fight me on this and I have to know what I'm fighting for. That's only fair."

Sighing again, Ryan admitted the truth. "Because he knows how to read me. And I don't want him to see that I'm afraid."

Kirsten's eyes jumped to Sandy and her forehead wrinkled with worry. "Okay Ryan. I'll come alone. Tell me where you are…."

After Kirsten hung up the phone, Sandy looked at her even more confused that ever. Shrugging his shoulders, he hoped she would offer him an explanation.

Letting out the breath she'd been holding all day, "Well, um, I'm sure it's not a surprise that he's drunk."

"Not exactly. And…why does he want you to come alone?"

"Sandy if I tell you this, you can never admit to him that I told you this. He'd never trust me again."

Sandy nodded, "Of course. What is it?"

"He said it's because you know how to read him and…he doesn't want you to know he's afraid."

"Oh dear God," Sandy mumbled. "Kirsten he's crying out for help…and he wants me to stay home?"

"Sandy please, we have to handle this one his way. Right now it's important to just get him home. We can both talk to him once he's here."

Nodding again, Sandy knew she was right. He was just happy that Ryan was willing to come home. The fact that he called home in the first place was a giant step in the right direction.

"Where did he say he was?"

"At some house in Long Beach. It sounded like a party in the background."

"How the heck did he get to Long Beach?"

When Kirsten arrived at the address Ryan had given her it was just about quarter to four in the morning. There weren't many partygoers left and most of the ones that were still hanging around were passed out cold in locations that varied from the front yard to the kitchen table. Music could be heard in the basement but the rest of the house was quiet.

"Can I help you?"

The voice startled her and she whirled around to find herself face to face with what she assumed was the host of the party. The giant hat on his head and the signatures all over his shirtless body in magic marker, that appeared to be his guest list, seemed to be a dead give away.

"Yes actually. I'm looking for Ryan."

"And who the hell are you?"

"Me? Um, I'm his ride home," Kirsten smiled.

"Ryan…Ryan….Oh Ryan! Leather jacket…white tank top…only smiles at the girls…you mean that Ryan?"

"That sounds like him, yes."

"He upstairs getting his groove on. Last door on the right."

"Getting his groove on?"

"Sorry that was TMI."

"TMI???"

"Too…much…information…" the host mocked slowly.

"Oh, right. I think I'll just knock on the door and let him know his ride is here."

"Suit yourself," the host offered before disappearing into another room.

Reaching the top of the stairs Kirsten began her walk towards the correct door. Walking gingerly as if she was in a haunted house, the click of a doorknob stopped her in her tracks halfway down the hallway. The door she was heading toward swung open and Ryan stumbled out into the hallway where a girl grabbed his arm and pushed him up against the opposite wall.

"Come on Ryan, spend the night with me," she crooned rather convincingly.

"I can't. My ride will be here any minute. I've gotta get downstairs."

His rejection was cut short when the unknown girl planted a passionate kiss on his lips. He leaned his head back against the wall and licked his lips.

"I can't stay."

"Ooooh," she whined. "But I want you to do that again," she begged, giggling and running her hand across the front of Ryan's jeans.

He smiled, leaving her hand in its position. "Next time," he promised, kissing her again.

"Ahem," Kirsten interjected, deciding Ryan had gotten enough "groove" for one night.

Both teens gaped in shock in Kirsten's direction. "It's time to go Ryan."

"Who the hell is she?" the anonymous girl complained.

"Be nice. That's my ride," Ryan reprimanded, giving the girl one last kiss and a wink before stumbling down the hallway and clinging to Kirsten to descend the stairs.

Out in the car, Kirsten made a point of making sure Ryan was strapped in and she placed a mop bucket with a plastic bag lining it on the floor mat between his legs.

"What's that for?"

"That's incase you need to puke while I'm on the expressway. Try to aim for the bucket, not my dashboard okay?"

"I'm not gonna puke. I haven't thrown up since before I called you."

"Well I'm not taking any chances," Kirsten admitted, buckling her own seatbelt. "You may get queasy in the car during the ride."

Kirsten waited until they were back on the expressway before inquiring about Ryan's evening. "So…who was that girl? Is that the same girl from the pool house?"

Ryan shifted nervously in his seat. "No. Her name is Simone. That's all I know. I met her at the party."

"Ryan, you need to slow down a little bit. You shouldn't be having sex with someone you just met a few hours ago. It's not safe. We're you careful?"

"No," he offered with blunt honesty.

Gasping, "Ryan!"

"Can we not talk about this?" Ryan asked, rubbing his forehead.

"Ryan every time I turn around you're being…intimate…with someone."

"Kirsten, I'm a sixteen year old guy, my hormones control me. I don't control them. Not to mention, coming from Chino, having sex with girls is just…something you do."

"Exactly how many girls have you been with Ryan?"

"I don't think you really want to know the answer to that," he admitted honestly again.

Sighing loudly, "Well since you obviously aren't going to slow down, you have to promise me from now on you'll always, and I mean always, use protection." She looked at him waiting for his answer. "Ryan, I want you to say it and mean it."

"I promise."

"I'm going to hold you to that. Now…onto bigger things. What happened today?"

"Didn't we just cover that?"

"I'm not talking about having sex Ryan. Why did you skip your classes today and how in God's name did you end up in Long Beach?"

The car was silent while Ryan avoided the question. Kirsten could see by his unsettled behavior that he was struggling to find an appropriate answer.

"Ryan you can either talk to me now, or you can talk to me and Sandy when we get home. One way or another this has to be addressed."

"Does it have to be now? Can't we talk about this tomorrow?"

"Actually, I find you to be quite truthful when you're drunk." Kirsten smiled at Ryan. He just blinked at her and turned his head to stare out the window.

"There's no reason. I just felt like it."

"Ah, so you just felt like getting into trouble?"

"Yep. It's what I'm good at."

"I see. I think there's more to it than that. I think there's something going on at school that you're not telling me and this was your way of escaping."

Kirsten could see his personality morphing right before her eyes. He went from a dry yet happy-go-lucky drunk to agitated and angry.

"There's nothing going on. It's school. I hate school."

"I'm not buying it Ryan. I think there's more to it than that. I could even go so far as to say possibly someone threatened you. They must be powerful, whoever they are, because they've got you convinced you can't tell anyone about it."

Ryan couldn't sit still a moment longer. Clearly flustered, "Kirsten, stop the car. Stop the car!"

Realizing she struck a nerve, "No. Ryan, talk to me. I need you to talk to me. Let me help you."

"Please stop the car!" he begged.

Barely ten seconds later he leaned forward and heaved into the bucket between his legs. Kirsten reached over and put her hand on his back.

"It's going to be okay Ryan. We're almost home. Just try to relax. Five more minutes and we'll be out of the car."

"I feel really sick."

"It's okay Ryan. Use the bucket. We're almost there."

As if on cue, at the end of her sentence Ryan started coughing, which lead to more puking. Resting his head against the dashboard, he sat helplessly by while his body tried to purge itself of all the alcohol he'd consumed. Finally he heard Kirsten shut the car off.

"We're home Ryan."

"Home," he muttered, his voice hoarse once again.

Walking around to Ryan's side of the car, she opened the door and gently directed him to sit back so she could undo his seatbelt. "I told you that bucket was a good idea."

"Have I ever told you how much I hate it when you're right?"

Taking the bucket out of the car, Kirsten placed it on the grass for the time being and turned around just in time to see Sandy coming around the car.

"How is he? Is he okay?"

Ryan tried to straighten himself up when he saw Sandy. His breathing was labored and his head was spinning something awful. But his eyes widened like saucers when Sandy got in his line of vision.

"Are you gonna hit me now?"

The question shocked Sandy. "Ryan we've never laid a hand on you since you came here. Why do think I'm going to hit you?"

"Because that's what Father-figures and boyfriends do. I know one of these times I'm going to piss you off to the point where you'll do it. I'm just trying to be prepared for it. Quite frankly I wish you'd just do it and get it over with already."

Sandy turned to Kirsten who had her hand over her mouth and the same horrified look on her face that Sandy had.

Turning back to Ryan's blank expression, "Ryan…we don't hit our kids," he offered quietly. "You made a mistake tonight. We'll deal with an appropriate punishment tomorrow but one thing I can promise you…we will never hit you."

Ryan's face showed he was absorbing what Sandy said, but not quite buying it.

"Come one Ryan, let's get you inside. You'll feel little bit better after you sleep."

Once Ryan was settled in for the night, rather for the morning, Sandy and Kirsten laid down on their own bed just as daylight was beginning to break.

Sandy rolled over and kissed Kirsten's forehead. "At least he's home. He'll be miserable tomorrow but at least we know he's okay."

"Sandy, there's something going on. I don't know what it is exactly, but I think someone is threatening him."

"How do you know that?"

"I'm guessing of course, but he was fine in the car on the way home until I mentioned my theory and that whoever they are, they have enough power to keep him from going for help. Sandy, they're trapping him. He has to tolerate whatever they are putting him through and yet they know he won't come to us for help."

"What did he say when you asked him about it?"

"He didn't say anything with words, but he started throwing up."

"My God, someone is threatening him. We'll talk to him tomorrow. We've got to get to the bottom of this before something bad happens…to Ryan…or the person who's threatening him."

Just a quick note…I know several folks have been asking if other characters such as Marissa or Summer will be added to the story. Truth is, I don't know. LOL! I write a single chapter at a time and see where it leads so I'm not usually much farther ahead of what you guys are reading at the time. The story was originally intended to be only about the Cohens and Ryan and Ryan's struggle to adapt to Newport. But…I still have lots in mind for this one so who knows! Some of your favorites may still make an appearance! I'll see what my little brain can concoct! : D Watch for Chap 9 to arrive some time over the weekend. (That's a good one! I like that one!)! Enjoy! : D

PS…if anyone can tell me the trick to getting the "lines" incorporated into my stories to signal a scene and/or character change. Please feel free to drop me an email. Since I updated my pc, those lines are in my copy of the story but don't transfer to FF for some reason. Anyhow…sorry there is no "warning" between scenes! : D