Summer watched through the vanity mirror as Marissa surveyed her bedroom. It was strange, being back for the holidays. The room was unchanged, exactly as it had been when she lived here, when she was in high school. And in a lot of ways, Summer felt like she still belonged here, that she wasn't all that different from the girl who lived in this room a year and a half ago.
But in some ways, she felt like an alien on a foreign planet. She knew stuff now, smart stuff, college stuff. Making the dean's list hadn't been as hard as she had imagined, and meeting new and interesting people, people she never would have met in Orange County, was fun. As long as it wasn't her skank-ass roommate. In some ways, she felt like she had outgrown the confines of Newport Beach.
"So, you sure you want to go to this Chrismakkuh thing?" Marissa asked from the bed, interrupting Summer's thoughts.
Without hesitation, the brunette nodded enthusiastically. "Just celebrating Christmas doesn't seem like enough anymore, ya know?" She put the final bobby pin in her meticulously curled hair, securing the yarmaclaus to her head, and turned to face her friend.
"Yeah, but Seth," Marissa starting, not sure of how to bring up the subject.
"Is my friend," Summer finished the sentence for her friend. "Look, Coop, I know that I was not the easiest person to live with when Cohen and I first broke up. But we're cool now," she assured. Standing, she smoothed the silky fabric of her red cocktail dress. "And I can't very well celebrate Chrismakkuh with anyone but him, because let's face it – no one else know what the hell it is," she rolled her eyes, adjusted one of her dress straps, and then held her arms out. "How do I look?"
Marissa smiled and stood. "Like the perfect Mrs. Claus meets," she paused and turned her head to one side as she pondered. "Who's the Jewish Mrs. Claus?"
Summer grabbed her purse and walked toward the door. "Mrs. Moses? I don't know – did she have a name?"
As she shut her bedroom door and followed Marissa to the car, Summer assured herself that she was doing the right thing. Since visiting Seth at Berkley, they had exchanged a few e-mails, and a couple of phone calls. And he had done as she asked, called her as soon as he got back to Newport to make sure he was coming to his family's holiday gathering. Tonight would be fun. It was Chrismakkuh. Nothing could ruin Chrismakkah. It had twice the resistance of any normal holiday.
XXXXXXXXXX
Ryan was tying his shoe when Seth made his way into the pool house. He had missed this more than anything, spending time with Ryan, talking about his problems. He had missed the blank stares his friend would give when he had no idea what Seth was talking about. Sure, he got the same dramatic pauses over the phone, but without the look? It just wasn't the same.
"So, buddy," he said, lowering himself into a chair. Ryan looked up. "Tonight's the big party, the big night. The Chrismakkuh celebration to end all Chrismakkuh celebrations. Ya know, Ryan, I think this might just be the year that Chrismakkuh goes to the next level, really takes off, ya know?"
Ryan cleared his throat and leaned back on the bed. "You wanna talk about Summer?" he asked.
Seth shook his head and bit his lip. "No, I don't. What would even make you think that I would want to talk about. . . We broke up. . . We are friends. . . Why would I want to talk about Summer?"
A laugh escaped Ryan's lips and he shook his head. "You're nervous," he deduced. Standing, he looked around the room for his watch. "Relax, man. Marissa says she's nervous, too."
"Why would Marissa be nervous?" Seth asked and then nodded as Ryan turned to glare at him. God, he missed that glare. "Oh, right." He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Summer and I are just friends, Ryan, and I feel that's a good thing. No. No, it's a great thing. Summer and I are good as friends. We've always been good as friends, right?"
Ryan rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "You guys have never been friends," he pointed out.
Seth leaned back in the chair and thought about his history with Summer. "How about when she was dating Zack? We were friends then," he said.
"Seth," Ryan stated, as though it were the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "You spent all of your time trying to break them up. You were only friends with her so you could get her back," he reminded.
"True," Seth conceded. "But friends, nonetheless. Now, you and Marissa? You were never friends."
Ryan shook his head at the tactic and sat back on the bed. "Yes, but Marissa and I admit that and we're together now, even though we live five hours apart. Unlike some people I know, who deny they're still in love and pretend to be friends, even though their sexual tension makes everyone in the room uncomfortable." He stood again and walked toward the door of the pool house. "You comin'?"
Seth looked toward the house and shook his head. "I can't move," he said, staring at the floor. "The thing is, Ryan, what if it was a huge mistake to invite her here? I can't ask if she's dating anyone because it violates the pact. And I can't tell her about anyone I've dated, because again with the pact. And I can't even think about asking her out while we're home because that is a total violation of the pact."
Standing silently in the door for a minute, Ryan turned to his friend and then back to the house to see Summer and Marissa entering the living room. "Yeah," he nodded finally and met Seth's gaze. "The pact is asinine and impossible to follow." And he was gone.
Leaving Seth to stew in his own insecurity and paralyzing self-doubt.