"So, what's the big emergency?" Seth asked as he let himself into Summer's bedroom. She had called him fifteen minutes ago, begging him to come over as quickly as he could. "No lipstick to match your shoes or whatever?"

She gave him an infamous death glare as he flopped onto her bed. "This is serious, Cohen," she insisted, her hand on her hip.

Seth nodded his agreement, but was too taken with her dress for the charity event to speak. It was pink, short, and low cut. It was a Marissa-style dress. Not that Seth would ever mention that he recognized a Marissa-style dress, ever, to anyone. Not when they already questioned his lack of sports knowledge and power tools. "Okay?"

Summer only went to the dresser and held out a piece of paper. "Coop e-mailed me today," she said with a pout.

Taking the paper, he shrugged. "So?"

She pointed, stomped, and pouted. "So? We don't e-mail, Cohen. E-mail is for lonely comic book dorks and poor people who don't have blackberries," she informed him.

Seth was about to point out that both had described him, or still did, but didn't think it the wisest crack. He perused the e-mail while Summer went back to getting ready. Apparently, Marissa hadn't had a chance to break up with Connor before the big event, and this was because he had beaten her to the punch. There were expletives and a demand for both of them to stay out of her business and leave her relationships alone. Also, an insistence that she could take care of her own life, which Seth found funny.

"She's really mad," Summer said into the silence of the room.

Tossing the e-mail aside, Seth lay back on the bed, his arms behind his head. "I gathered. But does that really surprise you? I mean, it's kind of our fault," he said.

"It is not our fault, Cohen," Summer growled, snapping her purse closed and searching for her earring.

"No, you're right, it's not. It's your fault, Summer. If you had just left it alone when Marissa told you to, we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place," he informed, choosing not to meet the angry glare she was no doubt shooting his way.

"You're the one who told Connor that she was going to break up with him. You're the one who put all these thoughts in his head in the first place," she accused.

But Seth wouldn't be deterred. "I told Ryan, not Connor. It wasn't my fault that the big ape happened to be sitting there when I mentioned it. Also, I would have never said anything if you hadn't told me that Marissa said she was breaking up with him. I plead not guilty by reason of faulty information from a highly uncredible source."

"Uncredible's not a word, Cohen," Summer snapped, turning and stopping her foot. Seth was sure that one of those stilettos was going to break off during a tantrum one of these days. "So, what are we going to do about this?"

He shrugged and stood. "I vote nothing, and we're gonna be late," he said, standing and extending his hand to his girlfriend.

She just sat on the bed and crossed her arms. "Nothing? You want to do nothing? Our best friends in the world are miserable without each other and you want to do nothing?"

"That's what I said," Seth nodded, extending his hand again. She just turned her head in defiance. Some days it was hard to remember why he loved her so much. "Besides, Ryan's pretty amped about his date with Macy tonight. I don't think he's really miserable without Marissa."

Sometimes Summer wondered how she could love Seth. He was a dolt. A complete idiot when it came to matters of the heart. "You are an ass," she fired loudly, standing from the bed again. "He is just scared, and she is assuming that he doesn't want her anymore. So I figure, all we have to do is show them how much they need each other, and the rest," she threw her hands up in a shrug, "will take care of itself."

He groaned, the first signs of a headache easing into his mind. "Summer, we promised both of them that we would stay out of it," he reminded.

Her anger faded into what could only be described as profound sadness. "When we were in seventh grade, Marissa got in this huge fight with Holly because we knew that Mitch Davis was cheating on her, and Marissa told her. Holly said it was nobody's business, but Marissa told me that she never wanted to miss the obvious because her so-called friends wouldn't tell her the truth. We made a pact to never hold out on each other.

"I know that you think I'm crazy for pushing this, Cohen. But I also know that my best friend has never been happier than she was with Ryan. And I know," she turned her doe eyes to his face, "that there is no one who loves her more than he does. They need each other, and if Marissa doesn't know that, then it's my job to make sure she figures it out."

And sometimes he remembered exactly why he loved her. He wrapped his arms around her sagging shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "Alright, we'll help. But we have to be incredibly stealth. They clearly don't respond to the blatantly obvious, so we're gonna have to work around them, in spite of them, if you will. I'm thinking something covert, sneaky," Seth started to ramble.

Summer pulled back and smiled up at him. It wasn't so hard to remember why she loved his man, at least some of the time. "Thank you," she whispered, kissing him and then stepping out of his embrace to grab her purse from the bed. "Let's go. We're gonna be late and I have to talk to Julie."

Seth stammered and followed her toward the hallway. "Wait, what? Julie who? Cooper? Why would you do that?"

They were nearly to the front door before he stopped asking questions and she turned to give him a wink. "Because she's gonna help us."

This was not going to end well. "Because Julie Cooper-Nichol is known for being stealth, Summer. And by stealth, I mean sneaky as a sumo wrestler in a tutu."

The door slammed behind their bickering, and Seth braced himself for the tongue-lashing Ryan would give in the aftermath of this plan. 'Dear God, just let him be over that need to solve his problems with his fists,' he prayed as he started the car and flashed a babbling Summer the best fake smile he could muster.