I am so sorry. I'd say there are no excuses, but honestly, there are so many. I just started my junior year in high school, I'm the Vice President of my Class, am currently founding a club, run cross country, just started my foray into the working world earning $7.50 and hour, play in a weekend softball league, take all honors and AP classes, President of the Volunteer Club, and head writer of my school's yearbook. Plus, I either have mono or a really nasty case of the flu. So I'm suffering..have pity...

I truly apologize. And there will be long periods of time between updates, which sucks, but I have no free time as it is.

Anyway, standard disclaimers apply, I'll shut up now, and here goes:

Chapter

"Ryan Atwood."

Snapped out of his math test trance, Ryan glanced up from his paper. His teacher, Ms. Jenkins was holding out a blue pass and peering at him over her glasses.

Ryan cleared his throat. "Uh, yes?" He scratched his arm absently.

"You're wanted at the office. Now." Her voice was firm and direct.

Throwing random books and papers into his backpack, Ryan approached Ms. Jenkins' desk. He dropped his test in front of her and grabbed the pass.

"I was uh, almost done anyway." Ryan bit his lip. "Uh, thanks."

Ryan nearly bolted out the door, aware that the eyes of everyone in the class were on him. He scrutinized the pass carefully, looking for some kind of clue. The looming question was: Is something wrong?

Phones made him nervous. So did doorbells and mysterious passes to the office. It was through a pass to the office that he found out that his dad was in jail. That was a day he'd always remember, shuffling into the principal's office to come face to face with a sobbing Dawn.

"You're fucking father's in jail," were her exact words between gasps for air. And then, harsh, "Let's go."

And that had been that. No sugar coating whatsoever. Someone had to find her cigarettes.

Hand on the doorknob to Dr. Kim's office, Ryan closed his eyes to fight off the mental picture of a tearful Kirsten or Sandy sitting beyond, armed with knowledge he didn't want.

What he saw instead was Mr. Gundy, the ever-chipper guidance counselor with a rare smile on his face, a frazzled Dr. Kim, and one pissed off Summer Roberts.

Ryan's mouth hung open. No words came to him. Of all the scenarios he could have come up with, this was definitely not one of them.

"They finally fucking found you Chino?" Summer spat, wiping tears from her eyes. She turned to Mr. Gundy. "How fucking hard was that, huh? Huh?"

Dr. Kim stared over the scene and caught Ryan's eye.

"Ms. Roberts will not explain her actions to myself or Mr. Gundy," she said, her perfect posture not hiding her unease. "She has demanded to speak with Chino."

"Alone," Summer cut in. "I want to talk to Chino alone."

"Summer," Mr. Gundy began, his voice soothing and gentle. He leaned toward her and touched her arm. "Summer, why don't we talk about Seth. I know this has been hard for you.."

"Hands off, perv." Summer smacked his hand. "I don't want to talk to you."

"Ms. Roberts, may I suggest you tone down the attitude right now? Disrespectful language is not tolerated here at Harbor."

"Uh, I can talk to her," Ryan blurted out. "I mean, it's fine. I can uh, handle it."

"Thanks Chino." Summer sniffed. "But don't say handled like I'm Marissa or something. I'm no dependent."

Mr. Gundy stood up, grabbing his legal pad from Dr. Kim's desk.

"Why don't we give them some privacy?" he suggested. "There's a lot that needs to be worked out. Seth is a wonderful kid."

"Not that you know him," Summer muttered. "Not that anyone does."

Dr. Kim shot her a warning look, before following Dr. Gundy out of the office.

"Five minutes," she said over her shoulder. "And this will not happen again."

Summer looked up at Ryan, her chin trembling. Tears spilled from down her cheeks, but she stared directly into Ryan's eyes, her gaze unwavering.

"I don't give a shit about Derek Johnson."

Ryan shuffled forward carefully, dropping himself into the chair beside Summer.

"Who's Derek Johnson?" It was an inquiry as good as any other, Ryan figured. Nothing about what was happening made sense. Summer Roberts did not cry, at least not to his knowledge.

"Fucking new kid," Summer spat, crossing her arms across her chest and sinking lower in her chair. "Porter's such a douche. Giving him Cohen's desk like he's never coming back. Well he's coming back, Chino." She bent over slightly, a few more tears escaping her eyes. "They never think about him. He's a second of their conversation and suddenly it's like hey, remember Cotillion, and hey, this guy screwed two girls at once."

They sat in silence for a few moments, each pondering her words.

"You never stop thinking about him do you?" Ryan asked finally, scratching the back of his head.

"Constantly," Summer sighed. "And then I try not to, and then I do anyway, and then I feel bad for even trying not to think about him." Summer threw her hands up in despair. "And what the hell am I supposed to do when they try and give up his desk?"

"Let everyone know he's still around, apparently," Ryan replied, a tiny smile crossing his lips.

Summer snickered, her whole body shuddering forward. "Knocking over desks and rage blackouts aren't exactly the Welcome Wagon this Derek kid was expecting."

"Welcome to the O.C., bitch," Ryan sighed, leaning back.

Summer pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes.

"God, I can't let him go," she sobbed, diving into Ryan's arms. "He can't die..."

Ryan closed his arms around Summer, familiar with the embrace. Same hug, different person. He couldn't hold them up anymore. He couldn't keep them happy when he was ready to crack. He couldn't be that person.

But he held her tight and let her cry because that was what she needed and he could give it to her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Without waiting for a reply, Sandy walked into Kirsten's office. They had plans for a quick lunch before going to the hospital. They were both working half-days to spend more time with Seth.

"Hey sweetie."

As soon as Kirsten looked up, Sandy knew something had happened. There was a subtle change in her eyes, a sadness that no one who didn't know her like Sandy could place.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, touching her arm gently.

Kirsten looked away without replying. She bit her lip.

"There was an incident.."

"An incident? Is Seth okay? Did something happen?" Sandy ran a hand through his hair. "How come nobody called?"

"Sandy, calm down." Kirsten put her hands on his chest. "It's nothing like that."

"Good." Sandy clutched his chest, breathing heavily. "I have got to stop jumping to conclusions." He paused. "What happened?"

Kirsten sat down again. "I had some kind of.." she waved her hands in the air, "breakdown in the mall today." She crossed her arms. "I feel so stupid."

Sandy came up behind her and threw his arms around Kirsten. He planted a tender kiss on her cheek.

"I love you. You're not stupid. Now care to elaborate?" He nibbled her ear gently.

Kirsten sighed and leaned back into Sandy's arms. He shifted his body so his chin rested on top of her head.

"Hallmark; I swear, that place makes me crazy." Kirsten sniffed, feeling leftover tears climb into her eyes. She squeezed Sandy's arm for support and closed her eyes. "I was shopping for Seth's birthday gifts and went in looking for a card."

"What'd you get him this year?" Sandy asked lightly, trying to ease her burden by keeping things like.

"Hideously depressing CDs, some gift certificates, all of his requested DVDs and video games. Run of the mill birthday stuff." Kirsten inhaled deeply, allowing Sandy's cologne provide its familiarity and comfort. "Anyway, I was picking through all of those sappy birthday cards looking for something decent, when the uh, the grief section caught my eye."

"Oh, God. Kirsten." Sandy buried his face deeper into her neck. "God, I love you so much."

"They said everything I was afraid of," Kirsten choked. "How hard it was..to lose a child....I just..."

"I know. I know." Sandy sighed into her.

"I-I did end up getting this." Kirsten smiled weakly as she grabbed the birthday card off of her desk.

Sandy loosened his hold on her and grabbed the card. He smiled into her hair.

"Hey...Snoopy."

"Ryan," Kirsten corrected. "It's Ryan." She smiled. "We're going to be okay, Sandy, aren't we? This is all gonna end, and we're going to be okay?"

Sandy kissed the top of her head. "Of course. Everything will turn out just fine. You'll see."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Mom?"

"No..uh, it's Luke."

"Oh..mmmff.."

With a valiant effort, Seth managed to open his eyes and sit up. He groaned, and caught sight of Luke standing in the doorway, looking unsure of himself.

"Hey man. Uh, sorry for calling you my mom and all that."

Luke held up his hands. "Dude, yo, no problem. None at all. It's okay."

Seth arched an eyebrow. "Uh, okay." He ran a hand over his now completely bald head. "So what's going on?"

Luke leaned against the wall and tried to look nonchalant. "Not much. Just decided to come by, see how you were doing."

"Oh." Seth bit his lip. "Well, to be honest, and for once I will be, I'm not doing so hot."

"Sorry man," Luke mumbled, staring at his shoes.

Seth sighed and glanced at the ceiling. Where was everyone else? He didn't like being alone with Luke. He eyed his former tormentor warily. The silence was practically unbearable.

"I used to think about cancer a lot," Seth said quietly.

Luke didn't meet his eye.

"Thought about cancer and car accidents and fires and a thousand ways to go so people would finally stop." Seth swallowed thickly. "You know, if I died, or just got really sick or really hurt, I figured maybe people would realize what they took for granted and feel like shit. Shoe's on the other foot kind of effect. You were good at making me feel like shit."

"Look, I'm sorry.."

"I'm not done," Seth whispered. "My life was miserable. I thought that maybe if I got sick people would feel bad and want to hang out with me. And then I'd get better and we could all live happily after and never have to eat lunch in the stairway again." He laughed bitterly. "Guess that sickness came a little too late. Life was finally starting to not suck, and look what happens."

Luke licked his lips. "Seth, man.."

"It's fine," Seth cut in. "I'm not telling you this to make you feel guilty, though that's an added benefit. I'm telling you because I can't tell anybody else." He paused, giving him an appraising glance. "I don't feel the need to protect you from this. So I'll give you the bottom line: I'm pissed, I'm tired, I threw up eight times today alone. The food sucks, the needles suck, the TV is on the fritz again. I can hardly get out of bed, and every single part of my body hurts like a bitch."

Luke didn't know what to say. Sorry sounded so pathetic, so wrong. He couldn't say that he didn't deserve Seth's anger, because he certainly did.

"Now, sit down. Tell me what's going at school." Seth gestured to the chair by his bed.

Luke didn't move.

"We're cool, okay? I don't hate you or whatever." Seth exhaled a deep breath. "For what it's worth, I'm kind of glad you're hear. I could use some pointless conversation right now."

"That's what I'm here for," Luke replied, giving him a nervous grin. "So, we're cool?"

"Yeah. We're fine."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So, maybe you could bring some of Seth's favorite music?"

Ryan looked up from his meat loaf. "Yeah..sure."

"Just a small gathering." The enthusiasm in Kirsten's voice was painfully fake. "You can have Marissa come if you want."

Ryan shrugged. He didn't want to think about Marissa. She'd called an hour earlier, wanting to chat about how mean Julie was and how hard Ms. Klein's class had gotten. He'd made some excuse not to talk. He was sorry he'd let her back in his life so soon.

Summer was pissed at him for it too. After school they strolled on the boardwalk eating Balboa bars, and Marissa was one of the many topics Summer groused about. Needless to say, the best friends hadn't made up yet, and, if Summer's tirade was any indication, the end of the feud was nowhere in sight. Ryan wasn't about to comment. He admired Summer's resolve, and wished he had a bit of it himself. Marissa was his drug, and even when she took his pain away she was torturing him.

"Your father called," Sandy told Kirsten. "He's pulling out all the stops for this shindig." He smiled slightly. It was clear that a tentative alliance had formed between Sandy and Caleb.

"Good," Kirsten replied, smiling as she took a healthy bite of roast beef. "I want this to be really nice for him." She sighed, a gloomy expression casting over his face.

Sandy reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "It'll be wonderful, sweetheart."

The phone rang, interrupting their pathetic attempt at a conversation.

"I'll get it," Ryan offered, jumping up.

"Did Seth drop any hints about anything this year?" Sandy asked Kirsten, dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin. "Last year he nearly burst into hysterics when he didn't get that flame thrower."

"He hasn't said a word about his birthday to me," Kirsten admitted, shaking her head.

Sighing, Sandy bent over his plate. He feared Seth's upcoming birthday would depress him. Birthdays ranked only slightly below Chrismakkuh on the holiday scale. Birthdays were twenty-four hour celebrations with party hats, noise makers and a giant piñata. Every year, even the year Seth was on crutches, birthdays began at 6AM, with Seth jumping up and down on his parents' bed, yelling at them to wake up.

"Sandy, it's Seth's doctor." Ryan held the phone over to him, looking concerned. "He wants to talk to you."

Clearing his throat and wiping his mouth with his napkin, Sandy stood up. His heart pounded in his chest as he grabbed the phone.

"Hello."

Ryan slumped into his chair, trying not to listen in on Sandy's side of the conversation, but failing miserably.

"Don't fall away from us now." Kirsten's voice was so quiet Ryan couldn't be sure she'd actually said anything.

But he looked at her and knew.

Sandy settled back into his chair, his face grave.

"Uh, yeah, that was Dr. Pearson. He said Seth's having some adverse side effects to some of the medication they have him on. He wants us to come in tomorrow morning and discuss alternate treatments, or just putting him on more medication to counter the effects of the other stuff." Sandy swallowed and clenched his jaw.

"What kind of side effects?" Kirsten asked quietly, placing her fork on her plate without a sound.

"He's been uh, vomiting up some blood. He's got some tremors too." Sandy stood up. "I, uh, told Dr. Pearson I'd be coming in tonight to see him. I just don't think he should be alone right now." He paused. "It's kind of late though. You don't have to go if you don't want to."

Kirsten nodded, trying to keep her composure.

"Are you going to stay the night?" she asked, looking up at Sandy.

Sandy considered it, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, probably. Depends on what he wants, I guess."

"I'll go with you," Kirsten said quietly, mustering up her courage. She could do this.

"Ryan?" Sandy asked, glancing at his foster son. "I know it's a school night, but we can make an exception just this once if you want to stop by for awhile."

Pushing his bangs out of his eyes, Ryan shook his head.

"I don't think so," he told him. "I have uh, homework."

Sandy nodded and looked puzzled. He squeezed Ryan's shoulder.

"I'll call when we get there. Maybe you can talk to Seth."

"Okay."

Ryan watched them get up and go, watched them and wished he'd said yes. But somehow he couldn't. Seth was his best friend, but Ryan just couldn't see him right then. What he needed was a cigarette. He didn't think he could last another minute without one.

Grabbing his jacket, Ryan headed for the door.