Sometimes Newport really wasn't so bad. Nights when the air was still, and the flowers were blooming in November, their scent wafting on the breeze, Ryan understood what Sandy meant when he said "I kinda like this place." And sitting on the steps of the gala hall, he closed his eyes and let the peaceful contentment wash over him.

"Hey," came a small voice from behind him.

Ryan turned slightly. Marissa was standing behind him, smiling nervously, as though she wasn't sure how she had gotten there or why. He felt something flip in his stomach, but chose to ignore it, plastering a fake smile on his lips. "Hey," he answered.

She moved closer, and looked to the steps until he motioned for her to join him. She lowered herself onto the cool cement and stretched her long legs before her. "So, I'm sorry about that whole thing before," she mumbled softly.

Ryan looked straight ahead. He felt like the comfortable, tough kid who didn't care what anyone thought about himwent running back to Chino whenever Marissa Cooper was around. "Hey, it, uh, it wasn't your fault, either, right?" he asked finally, remembering that she would expect him to say something.

"Still," she conceded, looking around, trying her best to avoid the pit that was starting to form in her stomach. "Where's Macy?" she asked with a bit more enthusiasm than was probably necessary.

"She's sayin' good-bye to her mom," he answered, still not looking at her. The smell of the flowers had been replaced by her expensive perfume. Ryan was starting to believe the theory that scent was the strongest of all "memory joggers." And at the moment, he was wishing he didn't have to relive "Ryan and Marissa's Good Times" in the technicolor surround sound of his mind.

Marissa nodded in response, hugging her thin shoulders against the chill of the evening. She looked over the yard before them, and the cars waiting for pick-up in the valet ally. She should say something, right? "So, um, Macy looks good tonight." She knew she should be able to talk to him about something, anything, without this embarrassed, insecure silence that kept creeping into the space between them.

Ryan nodded, swallowing his own nerves. "Yeah, she does." There had to be something they could talk about, right? Something other than vague generalities about each other's dates. "Things are good with Connor?"

Marissa nodded in assurance, pushing a handful of her silky hair behind her ear. "I think so," she nodded, her voice falling into a slightly more natural, distracted, tone. "He's a little drunk right now, but we're still together, so. . ."

She trailed off and Ryan thought he should add something to fill the silence. It wasn't that he had a problem being near Marissa – they hung out with Seth and Summer all the time, back before they met other people. But when they found themselves alone, off-setting silence always seemed to ensue. And that silence led to thoughts of what had been, what could be again, and he had to stop that before it ran away with him. "But you're out here."

"Just needed some air," she shrugged nonchalantly. "What about you?"

"Just waiting for Macy to get done with the pleasantries." Ryan turned toward her, casting his first glance in her direction, but not settling on anything that could confuse him any further about his feelings – feelings he was sure were only on the surface now because of what Seth and Summer had been doing. What they had been saying and doing over the past few weeks were putting these doubts and confusions in his head. Nothing else.

And they were quiet again, each seemingly immersed in a world of their own thoughts and emotions. Marissa fought the urge to spill the truth – if she could only figure out what the truth was. "Dammit," she groaned in frustration. Ryan looked toward her again, but she noted that his eyes didn't really focus on anything. He couldn't even look at her. "Why is this so damn awkward?"

Because I still love you? "What?" Where did that come from?

"You know what," Marissa answered. "This thing with you and me. We used to be friends."

Ryan shifted uncomfortably. Where was Macy? "We are friends," he said with little to no conviction.

"No, we're not," she insisted, shaking her head emphatically, the pain of that fact settling into her gut like a rock. "Friends don't have to deal with the shit that we do whenever we're alone with each other. Friends are comfortable together," she said.

She was right. He knew she was right. He just didn't know what to do to fix it. He would always love Marissa, in the way that everyone has a special place for their first love. But that didn't mean that he was ever going to trust her again. It didn't mean that he had to, did it? Why did she make him question every emotion that coursed through his body? And how did she still make every situation feel so intense, so important?

She remembered a time when they used to sit in silence for hours. Sometimes there was touching, sometimes kissing, but never words. They had never needed them. "Why can't we get past this?" she mused out loud. "We know each other better than anyone, Ryan. We never used to have this weirdness when. . ." she trailed.

"We were together?" He met her eye for the first time, the green intensity boring into him. She looked different this time. Something was different.

"Yeah," she whispered, looking away.

Ryan cleared his throat. "I don't know," he mumbled. She was broken. That was it – that's what was different. She no longer looked happy, like she had when they were together. And she didn't look like she was about to buckle under the weight of whatever drama he was used to seeing her deal with. She just looked like she was done fighting, like she had given up. Like she was broken.

She looked back up at him, her wide eyes asking him for something he wasn't sure he could give her. "I think," she started, but was interrupted.

"Ry, you ready?" Macy asked from behind them.

He nodded and stood quickly. "Yeah, sure, of course," he answered.

Marissa watched him kiss her and wrap his arm around her,and her heart dropped to her toes. "I should go find Connor," she muttered, standing on wobbly legs. "It was nice to see you again, Macy," she said politely.

"Back at ya," Macy smiled, looping her arm through Ryan's as Marissa turned away. "What was that about?" she whispered into his ear.

Ryan shook his head. "Nothing." He cleared his throat. "Just catching up."

They were standing beside the curb, waiting for the valet to bring his car when they heard, "MARISSA!" Turning, both Ryan and Macy saw Connor stumble outside, an alochol bottle in his hand as he smiled at his girlfriend and kissed her loudly. Ryan could see her blush. "Hey, look," Connor laughed. "There's Ryan! RYAN! HEY, RYAN!"

With a slight wave, Ryan tried to figure out what he was going to do. Connor was clearly drunk, clearly needed help. And he was moving toward them, dragging Marissa by the arm. "Let's just get out of here, okay?" Marissa was pleading.

But Connor didn't stop until he was right next to the other couple. "Marissa, I am talking to our friend, Ryan. Do you mind?"

Macy tried to take control of the situation. "Actually, we were just leaving," she said, her jaw tense. She had seen enough drunken fights to recognize them coming. And the thought of being near one on her first night back in the Newport public eye wasn't her idea of a good times.

"Ah, come on. The party's startin' to wind down," Connor slurred, throwing his arm around Marissa's shoulder. "We should all go hang together. We could go to The Bait Shop," he suggested loudly.

They were drawing looks from other party-goers. Marissa looked mortified and Ryan looked like he was ready to punch someone, so Macy felt like keeping order fell on her shoulders. "Maybe some other time, okay?" She put a hand on her boyfriend's shoulder and wrapped her hand around his fist. "Let's go," she said firmly.

"Come on, Connor," Marissa said, her voice small and fractured. "I'm gonna take you home."

He shook his curly hair. "Nah. You don't have to, Baby. Your mom called me a cab."

"She what?"

Taking another drink from the glass bottlein his hand, Connor looked at Marissa, his hands on her shoulders. "Apparently, she doesn't think I should be driving in my," he stopped and thought for a second, "current state."

Marissa took his hand, trying to pull him back up the stairs. His 6 foot, 3 inch frame wasn't budging unless he felt like it. "Let's don't worry about the cab. Or my mom," she growled at the thought of her mother's interference. When would Julie Cooper learn to leave it alone?

"She is not so bad," Connor informed her. "She liked my shoes. And she invited me to brunch," he pointed out.

Ryan put his hand on Marissa's arm and she jumped. "Are you gonna be okay?" he asked her in a low voice that she knew meant 'I'm here if you need me' and made her feel a thousand times better.

"Yeah, I got it," she nodded, wanting him to stay, but knowing he couldn't. "Thanks."

"Marissa, your boyfriend wants to help us," Connor sneered.

They ex-lovers shared a knowing glance, and then Marissa reached out to grab Connor as he started to stumble. "Go," she instructed Ryan as she helped Connor off in the direction of her own car.

Ryan watched until they were out of sight to turn and take his keys from the valet. Macy was already in the car, her head resting on the window, looking distracted and exhausted. Truth be told, he wasn't feeling all that vivacious, either. But he had a feeling, after the events of this evening, he wasn't going to be able to find sleep any time soon.