Disclaimer:
I own nothing, especially not an iPod. Don't sue me.
A/N: Huge
thanks to 60schic
for the beta. It's been tweaked since she last saw it.
Also, sorry for the confusion, this is the correct version of this chapter, the last one hadn't been edited entirely. My bad.
Part 4
Somewhere in the back of Summer's mind, she assumed that the few hours she spent at home would be the easiest part of her day.
Before she had even made it past the kitchen, Summer realized she had been wrong.
The light on the Roberts' answering machine was blinking. 57 messages and it wasn't even three o'clock. Summer listened to the first two, Stephanie and Holly respectively, calling to check on her, wanting to talk. Summer deleted them all and then vaguely hoped that there hadn't been any important messages for her dad.
Summer anticipated that her bedroom would offer relief, be the sanctuary it had always been for her. But instead the instant Summer opened her door she was greeted by the sight of one of Marissa's shirts draped over her desk chair. She'd borrowed it months ago, though the girls had never actually worn the same size, because borrowing clothes just seemed like something best friends did.
Near the shirt there's a framed picture of she and Coop and Holly right before Cotillion, before everything went wrong. They look so happy, so fucking stupid. As Summer knocked over the photograph, another picture shoved into the frame of her mirror caught her eye.
One day last summer, in between lying around and being miserable, Marissa had gotten the idea to spend a whole day just doing touristy stuff. They had rented rollerblades and gone skating, eaten Balboa Bars on the pier, built sand castles, even gone to The Spaghetti Factory for dinner. When they'd been at the Fun Zone, Marissa had dragged Summer into a photo booth and made her fork out five bucks for a strip of photos of the two of them giggling and making faces. There were four pictures and Summer had tried to rip the strip in half to share with Marissa but Marissa wouldn't let her. She had said that they were a set and they shouldn't be separated, that Marissa would get her own set another time.
Turns out Coop had been wrong about that. Summer sighed and sat at the edge of her bed.
It occurred to her that she was sitting on a lavender chenille blanket in a lump from where she'd kicked it off when Julie Cooper called last night. It had been a Christmas present from Marissa two years ago. Summer knew for a fact that it had been $20 on sale at Target, but she also knew Marissa spent her babysitting money on it, and that Summer was the one person who got a present that Marissa had spent her own money on.
"Fuck it," she decided as tears stung her eyes. Summer dabbed at her tears with the well-worn blanket for a moment before giving up and letting them flow. This time she reminded herself to breathe.
Summer knew Seth wasn't psychic, that he couldn't sense her pain and come to her aid, but she wanted him to anyway.
She supposed if she really needed him, needed anyone, she could call them. But Summer didn't need anyone. What she needed was a shower.
She took one last swipe at her eyes with Marissa's blanket, found a comfortable pair of pants and reasonably matching shirt and made her way to the bathroom.
Summer laid her clothes on the counter and glanced up at the mirror.
She gasped in horror. She had eye makeup all over her face. Why hadn't anyone told her? It figured, Summer thought, that the one night she got a little lazy and didn't wash her face before bed was the night she spent crying her eyes out in a hospital.
Whatever. Summer turned on the shower and got out of her two-day old clothes.
She let the hot water rush over her, washing away the scent of hospital-and-Cohen embedded in her skin. Felt the stress drip away in rivulets, focused on thinking about being warm and clean instead of thinking about not thinking about Marissa. Then she reached for the shampoo.
$15-a-pop shampoo that you could only get at an exclusive spa in San Bernardino County, a spa she only ever went to with Coop.
Summer snapped the bottle cap back on in irritation. This was ridiculous. Every damn thing in this place reminded her of Marissa.
She had always thought the scent of Summer's body wash was depressing. What Coop's problem with the scent of ginger was, Summer never found out.
When both girls were thirteen Marissa had raved for six straight weeks about this awesome new lotion her mom had gotten her. Finally Summer had broken down and bought a bottle, only to shut Coop up. She'd tried it and promptly become addicted to it too.
Marissa thought sweatpants, even Juicy ones, in public were tacky.
Fuck her, Summer thought pulling on the pants, she's dead. And then Summer felt guilty, started to cry, again, and decided sunglasses were probably a better option today than eye-makeup.
Summer was early to pick Luke up. Amazing how much time not putting on makeup saves. Of course Summer didn't have a magazine and she didn't want to be alone with her thoughts.
The shallow part of her wondered if things could get any worse. Her smart side told her shallow side to shut the fuck up, of course things could get worse. She could loose Seth too. Ryan could die. There could be a famine. Or a natural disaster. Her dad could get hurt. Luke's plane could crash. There could be another ice age, or did that count as a natural disaster? Zach could get hurt.
Summer realized that her priorities were slightly messed up if Seth topped her list and Zach concluded it. She wished her brain would get the message. Zach was her boyfriend dammit. She really, really liked him. But. But he wasn't Seth Cohen.
"Summer!" Luke called waving at her. "Oh my God, Summer!"
Luke swept her into a tight hug. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. I cannot fucking believe this."
"I know. It's… I know," Summer hugged her friend back. "It hasn't even been a whole day yet and I miss her so badly Luke."
"I can't process it. The thought of her actually being gone. It… I just… whoa," Luke pulled away and watched Summer.
"Everything I do, like, seriously, everything, reminds me of Coop," Summer informed Luke, as she started walking to the airport's main entrance.
He glanced around them.
"Yeah. She's everywhere in this city."
"No one else… Ryan's still asleep Luke, and he only knew her for like a minute. Seth… he's trying, he didn't hate her, but he just doesn't get it. You know?"
"Marissa was so fucking special," Luke stated.
"Yeah. Exactly. I feel like… like no one believes that. Like I have to convince them all that she's not just the girl who put Ryan in a coma, drove him out of town. I know she's caused a lot of people a lot of grief, especially Ryan, but she's still… she's still so fucking special."
"Yeah," Luke wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they walked. "So, how are you Summer? Are you, like, okay?"
"At the moment. I was angst-ing out last night. I keep forgetting how to breathe. Hyperventilating, having panic attacks I guess."
"Summer. Oh my God."
"It's okay. They're not as scary as I imagined them. I don't even really realize I'm not breathing usually; Cohen's been helping me."
"Usually? How many times has this happened Summer?" Luke asked, concerned.
"I don't know… a couple? Two or three-ish?" Summer shrugged. "Really it's not, like, a thing. I just start crying and then I get all focused on that, and I guess I just don't get enough air or whatever."
"I'm not a doctor or anything, but I'm pretty sure that's not good," Luke stated as they reached Summer's car. He threw his duffle bag into the backseat and got in.
"I'm upset Luke. My best friend just got killed."
"So not breathing is a normal grieving thing?" Luke pressed as Summer pulled out of the parking structure.
"I don't know. It's really, really not a big deal. It isn't," Summer insisted. "Can we change the subject?"
"Sure. So, what's up with Cohen?" Summer glanced at him questioningly. "Last I heard you stopped taking his calls, now he's reminding you to breathe. So, what? Are you guys back together?"
"No. God Luke, I have a boyfriend!"
"But you're still in love with Cohen."
"I am not still in love with him. I mean, yeah, I care about him, he was my first… everything. But I'm not, like, in love with him. I love Zach."
"I don't believe you."
"I am! Zach's great. He's smart and funny and sweet and charming. He's nice and socially not a moron and he lets me get a word in edgewise and he would never, ever run away from me!"
"Sounds like Cohen neutered."
"'Cohen neutered'? Eww Luke!"
"You get my point. It sounds like your boy Zach is just a Cohen placebo."
"He's not! He's Zach and I love him. I love Zach!"
"Yeah, no, still don't believe you. And you know what? I don't think you believe you either."
"It's just… he's Seth. He's under my skin. He reminds me to breathe, Luke. Who does that?" Summer turned to her friend questioningly.
"Eyes on the road Roberts," Summer looked back at the road. "Thanks."
"Welcome."
"So you like them both. Sounds like you've got a problem."
"I'm with Zach. Seth's not an issue."
"For him it's always been you."
"I'm not so sure."
"Summer…"
"No. Really. I'm like an old toy to him. I have sentimental value, but I'm no longer entertaining," Summer explained pulling into the hospital parking lot. "Or, really, he thinks I'm entertaining until he's actually with me and then he has no clue what to do with me."
"If you think that, you're a moron."
"Luke Ward's calling me a moron. Super," Summer commented as she navigated her car into a spot. "What makes you think you know so much anyway? You haven't been in Newport for, like, six months."
"Exactly," Luke opened his door and stepped out.
"Exactly?"
"It's like, I haven't been here, I haven't been embroiled in all of the bullshit," he explained, retrieving his bag and following Summer to the elevator, "so I can see the stuff that maybe you can't."
"Huh," Summer replied noncommittally, punching Ryan's floor number on the elevator.
"So tell me about Chino. What's… what am I going to see?"
"He's, uh," Summer put her head in her hand for a moment, trying to gather her swirling thoughts, "he's pretty banged up. Still. Pale. He's got a bunch of IVs in him and he's hooked up to a bunch of machines. Right now everyone's just waiting."
"But once he wakes up, he'll be good?" Luke asked hopefully as the elevator reached their floor.
"Hopefully," Summer sighed. "So, I don't know who all will be here, but the Cohen's will be thrilled to see you. The Coopers too, once they find out."
"Yeah. I… I banged Julie Cooper, Summer. I'm not sure this was a good idea," Luke hesitated in the hallway. "I shouldn't be here."
"Well you are," Summer pointed out. "Luke, you're here. Your friend is in the hospital. Why wouldn't you visit him?"
Luke nodded. "Right. Let's do this."
Summer turned the corner in the now familiar corridor. Seth was pacing. Zach was, not surprisingly, gone. The door to Ryan's room was closed and Kirsten stood guard.
"Summer, you're back," Sandy noticed her first.
"Yeah. I, um, had to run a couple errands," she explained as Seth looked up. Summer grabbed Luke's arm and tugged him into view.
Seth smiled broadly. "Luke, man!"
"Hey Cohen. It's good to see you. Sorry it had to be… like this, but…"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm so sorry about Marissa."
"It's… dude, I have no idea what to do with that. Summer called me a couple of hours ago and... I just can't wrap my head around it, you know?"
"Summer called?" Seth glanced over at her.
She shrugged, wrapped her arms around herself and studied the ground. It was different than the carpet in the elevator. "Someone had to. Luke, he was one of her best friends. He knew her better than almost anybody. He needed to know."
"You're right," Kirsten agreed. "We should have thought of that."
"Why? You have other things on your-" Summer was cut off by a pack of doctors and nurses rushing into Ryan's room.
"Oh my God," Kirsten put a trembling had to her mouth.
Sandy came out of Ryan's room, shell-shocked. "They'll, uh, tell us. When they know."
