As previously mentioned, I have nothing to my name. Unfortunately for me.
CHAPTER 3: Amsterdam
Seth jogged off to English, thinking. He had to hurry or he was going to miss the beginning-
of-class bell. And for that, Randolph would be pissed. Mr. Randolph was not the most
easygoing teacher, especially when it came to punctuality. The teacher viewed it as a prime
example of one's respect of others. He could be a real hardass when he felt like it. Why did
Seth have to prolong the conversation? Why?
Because it's rude not to introduce yourself, Seth thought to himself. That's why.
He'd noticed her yesterday - she was in his French class, now that he thought about it.
Devreaux. Duh. She was kind of cute, in an unconventional type of way. He dug the
magenta. And with her Dandy Warhols tee and talk of X-Men, she kinda reminded him of
Anna.
Anna. "Stop it," Seth whispered to himself. How could he be thinking of yet another
girl when he had apologies to make to Anna and Summer? He had enough women problems as
it was. The apology had to be done soon. Today. The three of them had the same study
hall... he hoped it would be enough. As if he had any idea of what to say.
Seth placed a hand on the doorknob and pulled, willing the door to remain silent. It
wasn't.
"Seth Cohen," boomed the teacher.
Damn.
"Mr. Cohen, how kind of you to join us this afternoon," continued Randolph. "Have a
seat and see me after class."
"Ooooooooooh," uttered the class in unison, as though they were kindergartners.
Randolph turned his attention to the board. "Now, back to gerunds..."
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Seth slowly advanced, dreading the worst. The last time he'd been late was Randolph's class,
too, and detention wasn't fun. For the sixth time that hour, Seth wondered why in the world
he'd felt etiquette was more important than English.
"Mr. Cohen, this the second time you have been late to my class," began the portly
middle-aged man, adjusting his burgundy tie. "You know my views on tardiness. I highly
doubt you have a good excuse - unless your grandfather's house was set on fire, with your
brother inside, would I excuse you from the lesson. And don't tell me that happened," he
added, looking up from his tie and casting a steely glare at Seth (whose mouth hung open, as
if to say that exact thing), "because I know you're lying. Now, what is your excuse?"
Seth closed his mouth. "Nothing," he muttered.
"What was that?" Randolph craned his neck. A flare of anger flushed Seth's face; it
was obvious the man had heard him perfectly fine.
"Nothing."
The teacher smirked. "Very well, then. For your disrespect you will serve a detention
after school, like last time." Seth began to relax. "But since this is your second offense,"
added the teacher crisply, "you will also serve detention today during your study hall. What
period do you have it?"
"Seventh," mumbled Seth angrily. He just had to make it worse, didn't he? The
teacher saw the look of minor contempt on his student's face and grinned. Students didn't
have any discipline nowadays. Parents just let their kids run around, too busy with money
and parties to pay attention. It was up to the teachers to do that, and that was exactly what
he did.
"See you seventh period," he smiled.
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Seth met Ryan in the parking lot at the end of the day, to explain why he wouldn't need a
ride. Ryan noticed right away that Seth was not in a good mood. The expression on his face
reminded him of the sky before a thunderstorm.
"Hey man, what's wrong?" Ryan asked concernedly.
Seth bobbed his head unhappily. "I was late again to English, so Randolph's given me
detention. Personally I'd rather be in Tahiti right now. Or, you know, if that's not possible,
maybe Amsterdam. Amsterdam wouldn't be terrible. I hear it's nice there."
Ryan brushed off the Amsterdam comment. He was used to Seth's rambling. "Again?
Why?"
"Oh, no reason really. I met this girl..." His voice trailed off, checking his watch.
"Got to go. If I'm late for detention..." He saluted and left.
Another girl? For a self-admitted geek, Seth Cohen was snaring a lot of women, Ryan
mused. More than even he had lately. Not that I want any others, with Marissa. Suddenly
he remembered Seth's explanation of what had transpired last week at Thanksgiving. A third
girl was not a good thing at this point in time. Seth was already having enough trouble with
two.
"Hey," whispered a voice in his ear. Turning around, he kissed Marissa and the couple
hopped into her SUV to go home.
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Ramona was sitting on her bed making a list of design concepts for her room. So far, she had
Classic Stardust Intrigue (very girlie and reminiscent of The Secret Garden), European
Contemporary (abstract paintings and various pieces of Swedish furniture in primary colors, that
sort of thing), Picture Reel (movie posters and blown-up photographs), and Graphic Imagery (a
comic theme not unlike Marvel Superhero Island at Universal). The latter was the most likely.
Either Graphic Imagery or Picture Reel. She could see it now - she could blow up images of
classic superheroes throughout the ages (maybe novel covers, too) and put them on the walls.
The walls would of course be painted either blue or red... red would work in this case. Spider-
Man would be there. Superman, Wolverine, Storm, Jean Grey, Professor Xavier. Cyclops. Not
Hellboy or Batman; she wasn't a big fan of Batman. Maybe the Ninja Turtles, too... nah. As
cool as those butt-kicking reptiles were, they weren't preserved forever in a graphic novel. They
were on Cartoon Network, that was all. But the X-Men would definitely be up there.
At the thought of Wolverine and the gang Ramona remembered the boy from earlier. Seth
Cohen. He was cute. His hair was adorable, if not overwhelming. In fact, Seth Cohen could
have possibly more hair, volume-wise, than she did. But he was cute, definitely.
He'd seemed nice that afternoon, she thought, but by now he must certainly think she was a
little freakish. At least idiotic. She was sure of it. No one who nearly walked into a pole would
come off as anything otherwise. She should just forget it - there was no chance. No chance that
Mr. Seth Cohen, with his insane hair and Wolverine watch, would ever be interested in her. Sighing, Ramona shook her head and went back to her list.
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Ryan was waiting. Waiting, and playing Tekken 4. He knew that Seth would be coming in from
detention any minute and he planned to have a talk with him. Or, you might say if you were
overly dramatic, stage an intervention. Seth didn't need another complication - things were
complicated enough in his love life. Either girl alone was hard enough to handle, but both at the
same time... Ryan marveled how Seth could manage it.
Ryan knew that this normally wouldn't be his business, but somehow since he'd moved
there everything had become everyone else's business. Maybe it was something in the Newport
water, but just living life was convoluted and tangled with everyone else's problems. For
example, Seth's hormones, suppressed for so many years, couldn't stop themselves from going
mad on Summer and Anna last week and because of this, Ryan's relationship with Marissa was
slightly strained. For the most part they got on fine, but if either of them hovered near the topic
of Seth or Summer... Being Summer's best friend, Marissa was inclined to blame Seth and view
him as an assholian pig. Being Seth's best friend, Ryan was inclined to defend him, much to
Marissa's discontent. Now Seth's problems were his problems, and he wasn't going to let his
problems grow any bigger.
Seth walked by the room, stopped, and rewound his steps. "Hey," he said, sounding
vaguely surprised. Ryan nodded a greeting, not taking his eyes from the screen.
"How'd you get home?"
Seth held up his board. "Skateboard. If I had a car that wouldn't have happened, but
seeing as I don't, because Mom won't share the wealth, it did. But hey. My uncoordinated, not-
a-team-player bod needs the exercise. Oh my God, I just said 'bod.' Way to speak like it's
1987, Cohen." Pause. To take a breath, Ryan imagined. "Oh my God, I just sounded like
Summer! I really need some exercise. Some manly-man exercise, like weight lifting."
Ryan put down the controller and shifted to face his brother. It didn't matter, his character
had just died anyway. "Why again did you have detention? Late to class?"
"Yeah, again. I was on my way when I saw this girl about to walk into one of the building
columns, you know, and pulled her back, and then I couldn't not introduce myself after being her
knight in denim jeans. Her, her Clark Kent. It's awfully rude, Master Atwood, not to."
"Sure." Sometimes when Seth got going, that was the only thing you could say. "So you
don't know her? She isn't going to make the whole Anna-Summer situation worse?"
"Uh, hmm, no," Seth answered. "I just met her today. Her name's Ramona and she's new.
That's all I know." He glanced at the television. "Tekken, huh? No wonder you lost, Ryan, you
were pitting Nina against Kazuya. To win you have to be Jin or Christie. How many times
must we go over this?" He settled down the floor, legs crossed pretzel-style, and took over the
controller with so much vigor Ryan half-expected him to stick his tongue out.