Standard disclaimers apply.
Chapter 7
"If you start to feel sick, go lie down in the nurse's office. I'll pick you up as soon as I possibly can. Your appointment is at two, so as soon as school end I want you waiting right outside."
"I know, Dad."
"Okay. Don't overdo it, kiddo. I'm going to call you at lunch, so make sure you leave your cell phone on." Sandy paused. "And eat a good lunch, but nothing too heavy."
"We've been through this," Seth reminded him impatiently.
"All right. But you're lucky your mom and I are even letting you come today." A sunglass clad Sandy smiled at his son. "Have a good day, Seth. And right after school, don't forget."
"Got it. See ya, Dad."
"God Cohen, your dad is such a...dad."
Seth threw his arm around Summer's shoulders and squeezed her body close to his.
"And what's you dad?" He asked. "A wallaby?"
"My dad's a plastic surgeon," Summer replied, sticking out her tongue.
"You think you're pretty slick, don't ya, lady?" Seth kissed the top of her head, the pleasant aroma of her strawberry shampoo dancing across his nostrils.
"Oh, I do," Summer said, smiling. She let loose a little squeal when Seth tickled her stomach gently with his free hand.
Ryan glanced over at them with a tiny smile. They were holding each other up, it seemed. Which was great, though Ryan hadn't found anyone to help him stand. Sandy and Kirsten, Seth and Summer, hell, even Caleb had reconciled with Julie Cooper.
Ryan caught sight of Marissa sitting on a wooden bench, reading a book. She was wearing a jean skirt that showed off her long legs and a tight-fitting red top. Her lips moved slightly as she read. Ryan remembered the way they always tasted, like the vanilla lip gloss she always had on hand. He remembered how her hair smelled strongly of apples, and how soft it was when his fingers ran through it.
"Let's use the other stairs," Ryan suggested, swallowing heavily.
The other steps would mean he wouldn't have to pass by Marissa, catching the faint whiff of her shampoo mingled with her perfume. He knew he was weak right then, and the temptation was strong to forgive her for Oliver merely to have someone to hold when things got scary. Logically, he knew it wouldn't be right to treat her like that, and to do that to himself. Ryan knew that if she smiled at him at that moment in time he'd take her back in an instant. He couldn't do that. He couldn't break down.
Summer and Seth saw where Ryan's eyes were focused. They exchanged concerned glances.
"All right," Seth said quickly. "Cool. The other stairs it is. Awesome. I'm actually more partial to these stairs anyway. See this step, guys? This was where I got pantsed in front of the entire cheerleading squad on my first day of school freshmen year."
"That was you?" Summer asked, wrinkling her nose. "With the Bullwinkle boxers?"
Seth nodded in affirmation. "And thus my fate was sealed. Though I do find it ironic that Luke was always accusing me of being gay while he seemed to harbor the mad desire to tear my pants off of me at every opportunity."
"Eighth grade trip, Ninja Turtles tightie whities?" Summer asked, frowning.
"That was me as well," Seth admitted, blushing slightly. "And it was not my fault. My mom saw them in the store and thought they were adorable." Seth paused. "She likes to keep me young."
Ryan allowed himself to smile as the two bantered back and forth about underwear. He was free of temptation at the moment. He felt a gentle hand on his elbow. He glanced over at Summer, who smiled at him warmly.
"It's okay, Chino. You both need some time to deal. She'll figure it out and give you some space."
"Thanks, Summer," Ryan choked out, feeling a mixture of fear and contentment. It was always weird when somebody started to really know you.
They were at the top of the stairs, standing side-by-side, eyes taking in all of their surroundings. Everything seemed to sparkle and shimmer in its perfection. Guys walked by in their Abercrombie and Fitch and Seth noticed them glower at Seth and Summer, mumbling about queers and hot girls. It was their first public appearance as a couple, and apparently they were not going to be well-received by the masses.
"This is going to be a long day," Seth said, yawning wearily as the three plopped down onto a nearby bench.
"Hey, you wanted to come today," Ryan reminded him.
"I wonder how they'd treat me if they knew," Seth mused out loud. He shrugged. "Whatever. Probably wouldn't even make a difference."
This time it was Summer and Ryan who traded worried looks. Summer bit her lip slightly while Ryan cleared his throat loudly.
"So hey, be honest, Ryan. How much baby-sitting did my parents beg you to do? You gonna turn the pages of my books, raise my hand in history?"
Ryan threw him a lopsided grin. "I'm supposed to carry your books around, which isn't all that different from usual anyway."
"I take severe and extreme umbrage to your previous remark," Seth stated.
"Oh, and I'm supposed to run into you between classes to make sure you're okay."
"What, like duck into the bathroom and give 'em a call if I yawn or scratch of something?" Seth asked, looking more amused than anything.
"Yeah, something along those lines," Ryan answered.
"Gotta love the parental espionage ring, employing Benedict over here to spy on me." Seth grinned.
The trio sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the kids as they passed. Everything seemed to move in slow motion around them. Footballs hovered for minutes in the air as they flew from one set of hands to the next. Giggles, burps, whispers all polluted the air, along with the distinct smell of coffee. One groups if guys walked by, loudly discussing the upcoming weekend's beach bash.
"What I wouldn't give to be that mindless," Seth said wistfully.
"C'mon Cohen. I'll walk you to English." Summer stood up, a sad expression etched onto her face. She pulled his arm slightly.
"All right," Seth obliged, letting Summer pull him up, a grunt escaping his lips. "You coming, bodyguard of mine?" He held out his hand, which Ryan slapped gently.
"I've got chemistry. It's on the way." Ryan squinted into the sun.
"No, it's not," Seth told him.
"I'll make it be on the way."
"You know Atwood, that just warms my heart."
Summer and Seth sat too close during biology, whispering and laughing quietly, ignoring glares from Mr. Winslow, their by-the book teacher.
Between classes she and Ryan trailed him to his locker, offering to vanquish his evil and unwieldy combination lock and carry his books. At one point Summer actually fell to her knees and tied his shoe before he could open his mouth to protest. That drew a few glances and whispers. Just what kind of relationship did they have, anyway? People wondered.
He earned a detention in calculus for falling asleep. He wasn't about to explain to the very hostile Ms. Andrews just why he'd been drooling openly on his desk, so he silently accepted his punishment, promising to serve two days from then. This was enough to arouse suspicion in Ms. Andrews' mind, the old coot, and she came within inches of assigning him yet another attention. Perhaps Seth would convince his father to work his lawyer charms and get him out of it.
At lunch he sat outside in a secluded corner with Summer and Ryan. He picked at the cafeteria's ziti and struggled to find a comfortable position in his chair. The pain in his arms and legs had intensified as a result of sitting in a desk all day.
"So, how'd it go?" Ryan asked, chewing a bagel lethargically.
"Okay. Nothing exciting for you to report to Mom and Dad." Seth yawned.
His cell phone suddenly came alive in his bag. Seth dropped his fork on his tray and grabbed it, silencing his Muppet Babies theme song ring tone.
"Talk amongst yourselves," Seth ordered. "Yeah, hey Dad...Nah, I'm good...ziti.....a lot better than Mom's yeah...No....no, really....well, once...the desk was so inviting....I'm fine..yes, two o'clock...I know...I won't forget..."
"How does he stay so...perky?" Summer asked Ryan in a hushed voice.
"He's perfected his defenses," Ryan observed. "Humor, babbling, a natural reaction to stressful situations to him"
Summer nodded, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear.
"I think I might love him," she admitted, so quietly she knew Seth couldn't hear her.
"I know," Ryan answered. "It's hard not to when you really know him."
Just as soon as Seth hit 'end call,' his ring tone sounded again.
"Hello? Oh, hey. Sup playa?" He paused, holding his hand over the mouthpiece. "My mom," he explained.
Summer looked up at Ryan after Seth had fully immersed himself in the conversation.
"You think he knows how I feel?" Summer asked, tears filling her eyes.
Ryan nodded. "I don't think he could not know."
Seth leaned against a random railing, waiting patiently for his father to pick him up. Summer and Ryan had cried research paper and were in the school library, frantically searching for a hero could stake claims on so they could write an eight page paper on them. Seth had the same paper for AP English and had checked out books on Gandhi, John Lennon, and Martin Luther King Jr., just to cover all the bases.
"Hey faggot."
Seth felt strong hands shove him from behind. He stumbled down two steps and felt his ankle twist painfully. His hands groped the air for something solid and came up with air. His body tumbled to the ground. Scrambling up as fast as he could and ignoring the pain that shot through his body, he came face-to-face with three smirking wrestlers.
"What's up, fairy?" The ringleader, Brad asked, looking so cocky and smug that Seth wanted to clock him. But all three of them had a major height and weight advantage over him, so he doubted that hitting him would be the wisest course of action.
"Brad," Seth greeted him coldly.
"Listen queer, I don't know what bet Summer lost, but nobody's fooled, okay?" Brad's voice had a dangerous edge to it. His fingers reached out and touched his cheek, lingered there almost tenderly, before he quickly withdrew it. "Look guys. His face is red, he's shaking. Gave you a hard-on too, I'll bet."
Seth clenched his fists tightly. He could not hit this enormous beast without serious consequences.
"Look, Summer's too hot for a queer like you. So dump her, huh? I'm sure she'll be much happier with me anyway." Brad's smirk expanded a nearly impossible feat.
"You know it's kind of funny, you calling me a faggot when all you wrestlers do is put on spandex and grope each other,' Seth spat.
The fist connected with Seth's chest before he could block it, knocking the air out of him, knocking him to his knees. Black spots danced before his eyes. Brad yanked him up roughly.
"No one calls me a faggot," Brad growled.
"I was merely alluding..."
And the second punch found its mark.
Sandy pulled the Range Rover into the Harbor parking lot, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, eyes scanning the area for Seth. He paused, his eyes catching a glimpse of his unmistakable curls.
Sandy's blood ran cold. Some rich punk had his hands on his kid, his sick kid. The shitface pushed Seth roughly, who stumbled backwards. A second shitface pulled him up, thirsty for more action.
Sandy's fingers hit the window button desperately, the anger building up inside of him, as his heart started pounding wildly in his chest as he pulled up in front of the scene.
"Get the hell away from him!" Sandy yelled, fumbling for the door handle, his eyes pooling up with tears of rage.
The punk looked up at him, still with that damned smirk. He gave Seth one last shove and started walking up the steps, motioning for his two cronies to follow him, which they did obediently.
"See ya later, queer," the ringleader called, throwing Sandy a smug, self- satisfied smile over his shoulder. He was one of those Newport brats who thought he was untouchable. A hate burned inside of Sandy that he never thought imaginable.
God, he could hardly breathe. Sandy bent his head over slightly, trying to keep his breathing even and steady and failing miserably.
Seth got up slowly, his eyes trained on the Range Rover, staring in disbelief at his father. Sandy looked up, and saw something in his eyes that said he was considering fleeing. But he merely scooped up his bulging backpack gingerly. He half-limped to the passenger side of the car.
Seth opened the car door and slid into his seat, not even looking at his father. His face was red-hot with embarrassment. He slid his hands discreetly around his body, as if trying to keep the pain in his stomach from spreading. He felt a wave of nausea.
How could Sandy do that? Seth wasn't some little kid who needed his "Daddy" to save him every single time something bad happened. Just because he was sick didn't mean he was helpless. School was hellish enough without being known as the guy who had his father break up all of his fights. His dad had some kind of hero complex going on. When was he going to realize that he couldn't protect him from everything just because he was his dad and he wanted to? Seth would've taken care of it just fine. Eventually they would've gotten tired of him and gone to have some huge make-out session with each other, or whatever all of those guys did. He was a big kid. When were his parents going to realize this? It was embarrassing enough at times to have Ryan as his protector.
Seth pressed his face up against the window, staring outside sullenly, and eyes staring dazedly as the road as it sailed past him. He wondered what names were going to be added to Brad's routine when he returned to school the next day. Of course, he could always just not go to school. It wasn't like his mom could say he was faking it if he said he wasn't up to it. One needed to be in peak physical condition to verbally or physically spar with jerks like Brad anyway. He was a bit smarter than Luke; he caught all of he subtle digs Seth liked to throw in while he got beaten up, which only meant a worse pounding. So maybe he'd blow off school and play video games and sulk.
He could still hardly believe his father had done that. He could've honked the horn and it would have had the same effect. Instead he'd yelled, half- mad out the car window, like an overprotective soccer mom yelling at the bullies to get off of her baby.
Seth finally spared a glare in Sandy's direction, but stopped short. His father's body was shaking violently. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his fingers were stark white and his chest was heaving up and down too quickly.
Seth felt a shot of remorse hit him. His dad was really and genuinely worried about him. So much so that he couldn't control his actions, and all he could think about was how he would get teased by Brad later. It was like when they were searching for Ryan after that whole model home debacle and Sandy had been so honest about how much he loved Seth. It was weird, being that they were manly man and weren't supposed to talk about feelings and attachment, but it was nice. And in an odd way, this was nice too.
"Thanks," Seth rasped out, staring at the green numbers proclaiming the time.
"Are..are you okay?" Sandy asked quietly, his voice as controlled as he could make it.
"Yeah..it wasn't too bad," Seth answered, slouching down low in his seat. "I've had worse."
"Water polo?" Sandy asked, eyes flicking over to try and discern how Seth was feeling at the moment.
"Wrestlers," Seth corrected. "Intimidated by my incredible manliness, as you can imagine."
Sandy laughed nervously. "I'll bet." He paused. "Look, I'm really sorry..."
"It's no big deal," Seth cut in. "I'm fine. It's fine."
"So..you're okay?"
"Yeah, Dad, I really am."
"It's just..it's hard to see that and not lose it.."
"I know. And it's fine. I swear." Seth shrugged. "It's cool."
Sandy visibly relaxed.
"So thanks," Seth reiterated, staring nonchalantly out the window.
"Any time, kid."
"Hey, Mom."
Kirsten turned her head slightly to see Seth approaching her. She was sitting at the kitchen table, hard at work. He put his arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.
He smiled faintly. She used rich lady shampoo that didn't smell like strawberries or apples or anything. He was almost sad it didn't.
"Hey, baby." Kirsten dropped her pen and threw her arm around Seth's waist.
"What are you up to?" Seth asked, staring curiously at the paper spread out before his mother.
"Crunching numbers like a madwoman," Kirsten replied, a smile tracing her lips, one of the few she'd ever had in what seemed like forever. Seth was finally taking interest in her job. It was nice. She rubbed his lower back gently. "How was the hospital today, sweetheart?"
"Stung a little bit, but I'm as chipper as ever," Seth told her. "I sure hope you take me next time I need one of those crazy procedures done. Dad almost passed out on the spot, then insisted on asking about a thousand questions."
"I'll make sure and clear my schedule just for you," Kirsten told him, her smile widening just slightly.
"Good."
Seth slid into the seat next to her, giving her a gentle smile.
Kirsten wanted to cry.
"Mom, is something wrong?" Seth paused. "Beyond the obvious, I mean."
"Everything's just..changing so fast." Kirsten leaned over and kissed her son's forehead.
Seth nodded. "You know what you need?" He asked.
"What?"
"Well, first off you need to forget about work for now. Forget about me. Grab the Sandy and go out for a nice evening." Seth smiled, proud at his own idea.
"I don't know.."
"Look, I know you guys don't want to leave me here. You've been looking for every excuse to hang out at home. But you need a night off right now. Things are changing. So have one night where everything can just be the same. You and Dad being gross and acting like lovesick college kids." Seth paused. "I mean, why not?"
Kirsten chuckled slightly, thinking about just how much Seth had grown up in the past year.
"Besides, you would not want to break the reservations I was kind enough to make for you. The Cabin at seven. Wear something that'll take the Sandy's breath away." Seth snickered. "And if you take this opportunity to tell me how much like Dad I am, I might just blow chunks. And that would completely ruin this tender mother/son moment. And neither one of us want that, do we?"
"I love you, Seth." Kirsten kissed his forehead again.
"I love you, Mom."
"Seven, you said?"
"Yeah, seven. I paid for it with Grandpa's credit card." Seth waggled his eyebrows. "You don't think he'd hit a guy with curly hair do ya?"
"I don't think so," Kirsten answered almost silently.
"Okay, so you can go get ready. I got the Ryan involved on this little scheme, and he agreed to make us some macaroni and cheese- he's a master chef, you know- and basically wait on me hand and foot. So your job is filled. We'll play some video games and chill." Seth paused. "Good for you?"
"Fantastic." Kirsten stood up, and kissed the top of his head. "You are just full of surprises, Seth."
Seth watched her walk away, smiling to himself. That was what he did; he brought people together.
TBC
Chapter 7
"If you start to feel sick, go lie down in the nurse's office. I'll pick you up as soon as I possibly can. Your appointment is at two, so as soon as school end I want you waiting right outside."
"I know, Dad."
"Okay. Don't overdo it, kiddo. I'm going to call you at lunch, so make sure you leave your cell phone on." Sandy paused. "And eat a good lunch, but nothing too heavy."
"We've been through this," Seth reminded him impatiently.
"All right. But you're lucky your mom and I are even letting you come today." A sunglass clad Sandy smiled at his son. "Have a good day, Seth. And right after school, don't forget."
"Got it. See ya, Dad."
"God Cohen, your dad is such a...dad."
Seth threw his arm around Summer's shoulders and squeezed her body close to his.
"And what's you dad?" He asked. "A wallaby?"
"My dad's a plastic surgeon," Summer replied, sticking out her tongue.
"You think you're pretty slick, don't ya, lady?" Seth kissed the top of her head, the pleasant aroma of her strawberry shampoo dancing across his nostrils.
"Oh, I do," Summer said, smiling. She let loose a little squeal when Seth tickled her stomach gently with his free hand.
Ryan glanced over at them with a tiny smile. They were holding each other up, it seemed. Which was great, though Ryan hadn't found anyone to help him stand. Sandy and Kirsten, Seth and Summer, hell, even Caleb had reconciled with Julie Cooper.
Ryan caught sight of Marissa sitting on a wooden bench, reading a book. She was wearing a jean skirt that showed off her long legs and a tight-fitting red top. Her lips moved slightly as she read. Ryan remembered the way they always tasted, like the vanilla lip gloss she always had on hand. He remembered how her hair smelled strongly of apples, and how soft it was when his fingers ran through it.
"Let's use the other stairs," Ryan suggested, swallowing heavily.
The other steps would mean he wouldn't have to pass by Marissa, catching the faint whiff of her shampoo mingled with her perfume. He knew he was weak right then, and the temptation was strong to forgive her for Oliver merely to have someone to hold when things got scary. Logically, he knew it wouldn't be right to treat her like that, and to do that to himself. Ryan knew that if she smiled at him at that moment in time he'd take her back in an instant. He couldn't do that. He couldn't break down.
Summer and Seth saw where Ryan's eyes were focused. They exchanged concerned glances.
"All right," Seth said quickly. "Cool. The other stairs it is. Awesome. I'm actually more partial to these stairs anyway. See this step, guys? This was where I got pantsed in front of the entire cheerleading squad on my first day of school freshmen year."
"That was you?" Summer asked, wrinkling her nose. "With the Bullwinkle boxers?"
Seth nodded in affirmation. "And thus my fate was sealed. Though I do find it ironic that Luke was always accusing me of being gay while he seemed to harbor the mad desire to tear my pants off of me at every opportunity."
"Eighth grade trip, Ninja Turtles tightie whities?" Summer asked, frowning.
"That was me as well," Seth admitted, blushing slightly. "And it was not my fault. My mom saw them in the store and thought they were adorable." Seth paused. "She likes to keep me young."
Ryan allowed himself to smile as the two bantered back and forth about underwear. He was free of temptation at the moment. He felt a gentle hand on his elbow. He glanced over at Summer, who smiled at him warmly.
"It's okay, Chino. You both need some time to deal. She'll figure it out and give you some space."
"Thanks, Summer," Ryan choked out, feeling a mixture of fear and contentment. It was always weird when somebody started to really know you.
They were at the top of the stairs, standing side-by-side, eyes taking in all of their surroundings. Everything seemed to sparkle and shimmer in its perfection. Guys walked by in their Abercrombie and Fitch and Seth noticed them glower at Seth and Summer, mumbling about queers and hot girls. It was their first public appearance as a couple, and apparently they were not going to be well-received by the masses.
"This is going to be a long day," Seth said, yawning wearily as the three plopped down onto a nearby bench.
"Hey, you wanted to come today," Ryan reminded him.
"I wonder how they'd treat me if they knew," Seth mused out loud. He shrugged. "Whatever. Probably wouldn't even make a difference."
This time it was Summer and Ryan who traded worried looks. Summer bit her lip slightly while Ryan cleared his throat loudly.
"So hey, be honest, Ryan. How much baby-sitting did my parents beg you to do? You gonna turn the pages of my books, raise my hand in history?"
Ryan threw him a lopsided grin. "I'm supposed to carry your books around, which isn't all that different from usual anyway."
"I take severe and extreme umbrage to your previous remark," Seth stated.
"Oh, and I'm supposed to run into you between classes to make sure you're okay."
"What, like duck into the bathroom and give 'em a call if I yawn or scratch of something?" Seth asked, looking more amused than anything.
"Yeah, something along those lines," Ryan answered.
"Gotta love the parental espionage ring, employing Benedict over here to spy on me." Seth grinned.
The trio sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the kids as they passed. Everything seemed to move in slow motion around them. Footballs hovered for minutes in the air as they flew from one set of hands to the next. Giggles, burps, whispers all polluted the air, along with the distinct smell of coffee. One groups if guys walked by, loudly discussing the upcoming weekend's beach bash.
"What I wouldn't give to be that mindless," Seth said wistfully.
"C'mon Cohen. I'll walk you to English." Summer stood up, a sad expression etched onto her face. She pulled his arm slightly.
"All right," Seth obliged, letting Summer pull him up, a grunt escaping his lips. "You coming, bodyguard of mine?" He held out his hand, which Ryan slapped gently.
"I've got chemistry. It's on the way." Ryan squinted into the sun.
"No, it's not," Seth told him.
"I'll make it be on the way."
"You know Atwood, that just warms my heart."
Summer and Seth sat too close during biology, whispering and laughing quietly, ignoring glares from Mr. Winslow, their by-the book teacher.
Between classes she and Ryan trailed him to his locker, offering to vanquish his evil and unwieldy combination lock and carry his books. At one point Summer actually fell to her knees and tied his shoe before he could open his mouth to protest. That drew a few glances and whispers. Just what kind of relationship did they have, anyway? People wondered.
He earned a detention in calculus for falling asleep. He wasn't about to explain to the very hostile Ms. Andrews just why he'd been drooling openly on his desk, so he silently accepted his punishment, promising to serve two days from then. This was enough to arouse suspicion in Ms. Andrews' mind, the old coot, and she came within inches of assigning him yet another attention. Perhaps Seth would convince his father to work his lawyer charms and get him out of it.
At lunch he sat outside in a secluded corner with Summer and Ryan. He picked at the cafeteria's ziti and struggled to find a comfortable position in his chair. The pain in his arms and legs had intensified as a result of sitting in a desk all day.
"So, how'd it go?" Ryan asked, chewing a bagel lethargically.
"Okay. Nothing exciting for you to report to Mom and Dad." Seth yawned.
His cell phone suddenly came alive in his bag. Seth dropped his fork on his tray and grabbed it, silencing his Muppet Babies theme song ring tone.
"Talk amongst yourselves," Seth ordered. "Yeah, hey Dad...Nah, I'm good...ziti.....a lot better than Mom's yeah...No....no, really....well, once...the desk was so inviting....I'm fine..yes, two o'clock...I know...I won't forget..."
"How does he stay so...perky?" Summer asked Ryan in a hushed voice.
"He's perfected his defenses," Ryan observed. "Humor, babbling, a natural reaction to stressful situations to him"
Summer nodded, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear.
"I think I might love him," she admitted, so quietly she knew Seth couldn't hear her.
"I know," Ryan answered. "It's hard not to when you really know him."
Just as soon as Seth hit 'end call,' his ring tone sounded again.
"Hello? Oh, hey. Sup playa?" He paused, holding his hand over the mouthpiece. "My mom," he explained.
Summer looked up at Ryan after Seth had fully immersed himself in the conversation.
"You think he knows how I feel?" Summer asked, tears filling her eyes.
Ryan nodded. "I don't think he could not know."
Seth leaned against a random railing, waiting patiently for his father to pick him up. Summer and Ryan had cried research paper and were in the school library, frantically searching for a hero could stake claims on so they could write an eight page paper on them. Seth had the same paper for AP English and had checked out books on Gandhi, John Lennon, and Martin Luther King Jr., just to cover all the bases.
"Hey faggot."
Seth felt strong hands shove him from behind. He stumbled down two steps and felt his ankle twist painfully. His hands groped the air for something solid and came up with air. His body tumbled to the ground. Scrambling up as fast as he could and ignoring the pain that shot through his body, he came face-to-face with three smirking wrestlers.
"What's up, fairy?" The ringleader, Brad asked, looking so cocky and smug that Seth wanted to clock him. But all three of them had a major height and weight advantage over him, so he doubted that hitting him would be the wisest course of action.
"Brad," Seth greeted him coldly.
"Listen queer, I don't know what bet Summer lost, but nobody's fooled, okay?" Brad's voice had a dangerous edge to it. His fingers reached out and touched his cheek, lingered there almost tenderly, before he quickly withdrew it. "Look guys. His face is red, he's shaking. Gave you a hard-on too, I'll bet."
Seth clenched his fists tightly. He could not hit this enormous beast without serious consequences.
"Look, Summer's too hot for a queer like you. So dump her, huh? I'm sure she'll be much happier with me anyway." Brad's smirk expanded a nearly impossible feat.
"You know it's kind of funny, you calling me a faggot when all you wrestlers do is put on spandex and grope each other,' Seth spat.
The fist connected with Seth's chest before he could block it, knocking the air out of him, knocking him to his knees. Black spots danced before his eyes. Brad yanked him up roughly.
"No one calls me a faggot," Brad growled.
"I was merely alluding..."
And the second punch found its mark.
Sandy pulled the Range Rover into the Harbor parking lot, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, eyes scanning the area for Seth. He paused, his eyes catching a glimpse of his unmistakable curls.
Sandy's blood ran cold. Some rich punk had his hands on his kid, his sick kid. The shitface pushed Seth roughly, who stumbled backwards. A second shitface pulled him up, thirsty for more action.
Sandy's fingers hit the window button desperately, the anger building up inside of him, as his heart started pounding wildly in his chest as he pulled up in front of the scene.
"Get the hell away from him!" Sandy yelled, fumbling for the door handle, his eyes pooling up with tears of rage.
The punk looked up at him, still with that damned smirk. He gave Seth one last shove and started walking up the steps, motioning for his two cronies to follow him, which they did obediently.
"See ya later, queer," the ringleader called, throwing Sandy a smug, self- satisfied smile over his shoulder. He was one of those Newport brats who thought he was untouchable. A hate burned inside of Sandy that he never thought imaginable.
God, he could hardly breathe. Sandy bent his head over slightly, trying to keep his breathing even and steady and failing miserably.
Seth got up slowly, his eyes trained on the Range Rover, staring in disbelief at his father. Sandy looked up, and saw something in his eyes that said he was considering fleeing. But he merely scooped up his bulging backpack gingerly. He half-limped to the passenger side of the car.
Seth opened the car door and slid into his seat, not even looking at his father. His face was red-hot with embarrassment. He slid his hands discreetly around his body, as if trying to keep the pain in his stomach from spreading. He felt a wave of nausea.
How could Sandy do that? Seth wasn't some little kid who needed his "Daddy" to save him every single time something bad happened. Just because he was sick didn't mean he was helpless. School was hellish enough without being known as the guy who had his father break up all of his fights. His dad had some kind of hero complex going on. When was he going to realize that he couldn't protect him from everything just because he was his dad and he wanted to? Seth would've taken care of it just fine. Eventually they would've gotten tired of him and gone to have some huge make-out session with each other, or whatever all of those guys did. He was a big kid. When were his parents going to realize this? It was embarrassing enough at times to have Ryan as his protector.
Seth pressed his face up against the window, staring outside sullenly, and eyes staring dazedly as the road as it sailed past him. He wondered what names were going to be added to Brad's routine when he returned to school the next day. Of course, he could always just not go to school. It wasn't like his mom could say he was faking it if he said he wasn't up to it. One needed to be in peak physical condition to verbally or physically spar with jerks like Brad anyway. He was a bit smarter than Luke; he caught all of he subtle digs Seth liked to throw in while he got beaten up, which only meant a worse pounding. So maybe he'd blow off school and play video games and sulk.
He could still hardly believe his father had done that. He could've honked the horn and it would have had the same effect. Instead he'd yelled, half- mad out the car window, like an overprotective soccer mom yelling at the bullies to get off of her baby.
Seth finally spared a glare in Sandy's direction, but stopped short. His father's body was shaking violently. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his fingers were stark white and his chest was heaving up and down too quickly.
Seth felt a shot of remorse hit him. His dad was really and genuinely worried about him. So much so that he couldn't control his actions, and all he could think about was how he would get teased by Brad later. It was like when they were searching for Ryan after that whole model home debacle and Sandy had been so honest about how much he loved Seth. It was weird, being that they were manly man and weren't supposed to talk about feelings and attachment, but it was nice. And in an odd way, this was nice too.
"Thanks," Seth rasped out, staring at the green numbers proclaiming the time.
"Are..are you okay?" Sandy asked quietly, his voice as controlled as he could make it.
"Yeah..it wasn't too bad," Seth answered, slouching down low in his seat. "I've had worse."
"Water polo?" Sandy asked, eyes flicking over to try and discern how Seth was feeling at the moment.
"Wrestlers," Seth corrected. "Intimidated by my incredible manliness, as you can imagine."
Sandy laughed nervously. "I'll bet." He paused. "Look, I'm really sorry..."
"It's no big deal," Seth cut in. "I'm fine. It's fine."
"So..you're okay?"
"Yeah, Dad, I really am."
"It's just..it's hard to see that and not lose it.."
"I know. And it's fine. I swear." Seth shrugged. "It's cool."
Sandy visibly relaxed.
"So thanks," Seth reiterated, staring nonchalantly out the window.
"Any time, kid."
"Hey, Mom."
Kirsten turned her head slightly to see Seth approaching her. She was sitting at the kitchen table, hard at work. He put his arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.
He smiled faintly. She used rich lady shampoo that didn't smell like strawberries or apples or anything. He was almost sad it didn't.
"Hey, baby." Kirsten dropped her pen and threw her arm around Seth's waist.
"What are you up to?" Seth asked, staring curiously at the paper spread out before his mother.
"Crunching numbers like a madwoman," Kirsten replied, a smile tracing her lips, one of the few she'd ever had in what seemed like forever. Seth was finally taking interest in her job. It was nice. She rubbed his lower back gently. "How was the hospital today, sweetheart?"
"Stung a little bit, but I'm as chipper as ever," Seth told her. "I sure hope you take me next time I need one of those crazy procedures done. Dad almost passed out on the spot, then insisted on asking about a thousand questions."
"I'll make sure and clear my schedule just for you," Kirsten told him, her smile widening just slightly.
"Good."
Seth slid into the seat next to her, giving her a gentle smile.
Kirsten wanted to cry.
"Mom, is something wrong?" Seth paused. "Beyond the obvious, I mean."
"Everything's just..changing so fast." Kirsten leaned over and kissed her son's forehead.
Seth nodded. "You know what you need?" He asked.
"What?"
"Well, first off you need to forget about work for now. Forget about me. Grab the Sandy and go out for a nice evening." Seth smiled, proud at his own idea.
"I don't know.."
"Look, I know you guys don't want to leave me here. You've been looking for every excuse to hang out at home. But you need a night off right now. Things are changing. So have one night where everything can just be the same. You and Dad being gross and acting like lovesick college kids." Seth paused. "I mean, why not?"
Kirsten chuckled slightly, thinking about just how much Seth had grown up in the past year.
"Besides, you would not want to break the reservations I was kind enough to make for you. The Cabin at seven. Wear something that'll take the Sandy's breath away." Seth snickered. "And if you take this opportunity to tell me how much like Dad I am, I might just blow chunks. And that would completely ruin this tender mother/son moment. And neither one of us want that, do we?"
"I love you, Seth." Kirsten kissed his forehead again.
"I love you, Mom."
"Seven, you said?"
"Yeah, seven. I paid for it with Grandpa's credit card." Seth waggled his eyebrows. "You don't think he'd hit a guy with curly hair do ya?"
"I don't think so," Kirsten answered almost silently.
"Okay, so you can go get ready. I got the Ryan involved on this little scheme, and he agreed to make us some macaroni and cheese- he's a master chef, you know- and basically wait on me hand and foot. So your job is filled. We'll play some video games and chill." Seth paused. "Good for you?"
"Fantastic." Kirsten stood up, and kissed the top of his head. "You are just full of surprises, Seth."
Seth watched her walk away, smiling to himself. That was what he did; he brought people together.
TBC