Chances
Author's Note: Extremely, sorrowfully sorry for the long, harrowing wait for this next chapter. I am serious when I say school has been hectic for the last few months. I just graduated from high school, so I had finals and grad to prepare for as well as many end of the year projects to complete. I hope you can forgive me for such a long wait.
Disclaimer: Nothing that has the name OC is in my name. It all belongs to Josh, baby!
Chapter 2
Sandy was walking outside with his surfboard tucked firmly under his arm when he saw Ryan sitting on one of the lounge chairs that surrounded the pool. And by the looks of it, he had been sitting there for quite some time.
"Hey, kid," greeeted Sandy with his usual morning enthusiasm. He was in the middle of placing his surfboard on the patio floor when Ryan's head shot up in instant surprise revealing a face of many colours. Snayd grimaced just thinking about how much that must throb.
"Hey...um...morning," returned Ryan after clearing his throat after a night of disuse and smoke inhalation. He had been sitting in this chair for the better part of the night trying to decide what to do. Obviously, he hadn't come up with any plan as of yet since he was still sitting here. Sandy took a seat in the lounge chair next to Ryan and looked over at the ocean allowing Ryan to come upon the words he wished to speak. Surfing was going to have to wait, no how much he needed it.
"How's the head?" asked Sandy after a few moments of silence he knew would not be broken unless he opened his own mouth, "looks pretty painful."
"Looks worse than it feels," was the only response Ryan offered before silence once again descended on the duo.
"What are you doing up at this hour anyway? It's only 5:30am," questioned Sandy looking at his watch with a frown. This kid has the weirdest sleeping habits, he thought to himself as he peered at the kid in question.
"Early-riser," responded Ryan shortly. He wasn't going to talk yet, he wasn't ready.
"You're not going to make this easy for me are you," stated Sandy as if reading Ryan's mind. Ryan merely glanced sideways at Sandy and shrugged his shoulders before returning his attention to the ocean beyond. "Look, kid..."
"I'm not a kid!" interrupted Ryan forcefully. He heatedly risked a glanced at Sandy. "I have been taking care of myself longer than you or anyone else can imagine, so don't call me 'kid'." Sandy, too stunned to say another word, just sat in silence staring at Ryan in a whole new light.
"Ryan," began Sandy uncertainly after another few moments of silence, "I may not be able to identify with you personally, but I have some inkling as to what you are going through. I have been dealing with kids...boys in situations like yours for many, many years. I know you may not feel like a kid, but you're only sixteen. Let me help you deal with this."
Ryan, who was staring a hole through the patio, glanced upwards so he was looking at Sandy's right knee. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves and his mind, he lifted his head until he was able to stare Sandy directly in the eyes. Sandy was startled by the intense contact, but refused to back down.
"I'm not going to foster care," stated Ryan evenly, "and if you make me go, I'll only run away again."
"What happened in foster care that makes you so adament about staying away?" asked Sandy. He had wanted to ask this question for a while, but was too afraid he would break Ryan's tedious trust.
"Too many wrong things to speak of," was the only response that Ryan offered. There were too many hurtful things that happened during that one summer in his eighth year. He shuddered at the thought of letting those memories loose.
"I respect your need to keep those things to yourself," said Sandy gently patting Ryan's shoulder, " but without those tidbits I won't be able to understand your aspect of the whole situation." Ryan nodded his but didn't comment any further.
Kirsten, who had been watching Sandy and Ryan interact through the window, filled three mugs with fresh coffee and carefully made her way out onto the patio. She still didn't really trust this kid, but if Sandy saw so much potential in him, then he must be special.
Ryan heard her careful steps and looked up. He gave her a tentative smile when she passed one of the mugs to him. Sipping it, he was pleased to discover it was made just the way he liked it. Kirsten settled herself on the same lounge chair that Sandy occupied and idly sipped her own coffee.
"How are you feeling, Ryan? Would you like some tylenol for any pain?" asked Kirsten when the silence became too heavy.
"No, thanks, I'm fine," answered Ryan. "I'm going to go get a shower. Maybe then this will look less ugly and people will stop asking me how much pain I'm in," he said indicating his face with a wave of his hand. Standing up slowly, he shuffled into the poolhouse to gather his things.
When Ryan got out of the shower, Kirsten was sitting at the counter on one of the stools still drinking her coffee.
"Where's Sandy?" asked Ryan after he had glanced around for the man who had taken him in. He felt bad for how he had snapped at Sandy. The man had taken him out of his abusive home and this was how he repayed him.
"Out surfing," answered Kirsten looking up at the boy who was slowly worming his way into her heart. "You were right," she stated after examining him for a moment. Ryan gazed at her quizzically. "You do look better now and in less 'pain'." Ryan's face lightened as understanding dawned. Smirking in good homour, he pulled cereal out of the cupboard and began to eat out of it until a sharp look from Kirsten sent him to the cupboard once more to retrieve a bowl.
Later on that day, Seth and Ryan were playing a round of Ninja's. Seth was being unusually quiet, which caused Ryan's mind to itch. It wasn't right for the quiet to be heavy with Seth around, especially if a round of playstation was on the go.
After another round, Seth turned to Ryan. "I'm sorry you know," he blurted out after a quick look of constipation that must have been indecision.
"For what?" asked Ryan clearly confused.
"For helping dad track you down and giving away your location," said Seth, "It wasn't very best friend of me."
"I don't blame you for anything Seth. Actually, I'm kind of glad you did."
"You are?" asked Seth incredulously.
"Yeah," responded Ryan casually. "Another round?"
"Uh...Yeah man! You know I am really glad you don't feel the way I thought you felt. Not that I know how you feel cause you're all for the closed and haunted building thing. You know, nobody enters and all that. Oh my God! You know what Summer did today! She..." Ryan rolled his eyes. Maybe he shouldn't have cursed the quiet, he was sure he was going to regret it soon, he was already regretting it.
After five minutes of constant rambling with no end in site, everything stopped when the doorbell rang. Ryan heard heels clicking on the way to the door, so he knew Kirsten was already on her way to answering the door. He could hear her muffled greeting as she opened to door, but what the next words out of the visitors mouth were clear as day. "Hello ma'm, I'm officer Golding, is Ryan Atwood on this premises?"
