Nothing belongs to me, except marathons of Season One DVD viewing and pathetic marathons of taped season two on VHS. Josh Schwartz is pretty damn cool. Sorry this took a while. It's dedicated to Coach Glick, because he hates it when I call him that.

"Slow down."

"I'm just going eighty."

"In a sixty five zone."

"I said I was gonna get you there right? You want to take the bus instead? Fifteen hour drive with the darling Mr. Glick sweating all over you."

"I wanted a ride, but no one can ski with their head in a dashboard."

"Well, it's always good to try new things."

Summer fell back into her seat, her arms crossed across her chest. Seth mimicked her sigh, rolling his eyes.

Marissa tried to break the silence. "It's ridiculous that our school couldn't just catch a plane there, anyways."

Seth, ignoring Marissa, turned back to Summer. "Just chill. You'll get there, and if you die, then I'll send nice flowers to your parents."

"Thanks, but you think maybe if I died, you wouldn't make it either?"

Seth shrugged. "I'd be able to take it. You just might be too delicate."

"If I die, you better believe I'm taking you down with me."

"Planning on going to hell?"

"I'm going to have to for killing your ass."

Marissa and Ryan in the back seat both sighed, almost syncopated, earning them a glare from Summer.

"Wow, I'm scared. Please be nice." Seth rolled his eyes for the thousandth time in one day.

"Shut up. What the hell is with this music anyway?"

"What the fuck is wrong with Death Cab?"

"They're so over publicized. You think you're all misunderstood because you listen to all the right music."

"They're not over publicized. Just a few t.v. shows. And why does it matter that they have a broad fan base? Who says you have to fit a profile to listen to music?"

"You don't, but you don't have to be a poser either."

"Okay, I'll try to be more like you. Oh, Summer, you're such an idol, how can I become you? Please, help me give up my old ways so I can become just like you. You, who I'm giving a ride for no reason except the goodness of my heart."

"Oh yes, the goodness of your heart. That and the total emptiness of your head."

"Wow, when you're right, you're right. I was stupid to give you a ride, Ryan, Marissa? Say goodbye to Summer."

"What are you doing?" Summer leaned over, putting her hand on top of his on the wheel.

"I'm leaving you at the side of the road. Try hitchhiking. Should be a blast."

"No, stop."

"Get your hand off me."

"Stop spinning the fucking wheel."

"I just have to..."

Marissa leaned her head through. "Seth, stop that, it's dumb."

Ryan yelled, "Dude, watch the road!"

Seth tried to swivel the wheel back to the road, but instead they fell through the thin sand.

"Wow, Seth, your amazing driving actually landed us in the sandiest, seediest motel in the entire state of Nevada. I'm going to seriously get raped tonight." Summer eyes the cot and full bed.

"God, you would be so lucky, Roberts. Any rapist would definitely go for Marissa first."

"Wow, thanks, Cohen." Marissa rolled her eyes, dropping her bags to the floor.

Ryan followed Marissa's lead. "You know, um, I could go find us something quick to eat. It's late for dinner and too early for breakfast."

"No, starving to death would be much better. Maybe then we could go Donner Party and take Summer out." Seth smirked walking straight into the bathroom.

Ryan raised his eyebrows, but shook his head. "You girls want anything?"

Summer shrugged, her hand in the air. Marissa pulled in her lips. "Um, I dunno, I'll go with you, though. I need to see if I can find a drug store."

Ryan nodded, smiling lightly to Summer and holding the door open for Marissa.

Summer sighed for what had to have been the twenty thousandth time that day and fell backwards onto the bed. The comforter was gritty and thick from the steaming weather. She picked it up and threw it onto the cot. The sheet underneath was less hot, but still as sandy. She lay down on the left, slightly shifting to get comfortable.

Seth came out of the bathroom, the edge of his hair damp from motel sink water. He sighed dramatically and fell onto the bed next to her. She eyed him suspiciously, but turned back.

"What?" He was watching the dark t.v. screen intently.

"You know you're going to have to sleep on that thing, because I'm not moving," Summer muttered.

"I'm not sleeping on that piece of shit."

"I'm not going to sleep on it. You should be, like, the gentleman."

Seth snorted. "Good night."

"I told you, I'm not moving."

"So stay there." Seth rolled over and pulled his shirt over his head.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"It's hot. Relax, okay? And stay over on your side."

"Yeah, because I'd kill to jump you in ninety thousand degree weather."

"Whatever gets you off. But seriously, that side."

"I'll try to control myself."

"That's all I'm asking."

Summer glanced down at her tank top and jeans, wondering if she should change too for bed. She looked back at Seth's bare, slightly tanned, back, wondering if he thought about every move he made, calculating things, trying to make her go crazy. Or at least things he thought would make her go crazy. If he thought at all about the things that might break her heart.

But he was Seth Cohen. And he was gross and self centered and conceited and so damn sure of himself and he probably thought about everything he did and how it would make him look, because that's who he was.

But maybe she would kill to jump him anyways.

Summer liked to sleep. She loved to sleep in. It didn't matter where she was or how old she was, she always liked to sleep. Sleeping on your side underneath a stiffly ironed sheet, terrified that you were going to roll over in your sleep, however, seemed to change even Summer.

She got up at around eight, getting out of the bed as quickly as she could. She cast a quick glance at Seth's bare back down to his black jeans and gray boxer waistband. She had felt his arm warm against hers several times when she was almost asleep, sending jolts through her skin until she was awake again. And when she had woken up, the firm, tanned bicep was brushing against her hair. He looked so innocent when he slept, flat except for the curve of the small of his waist on his stomach. His hair flopped into his face, and for the rest of the night, he had been curled into a ball. In the morning, however, he was lying straight, with the sandy sheets pressed against his chest, the sun reflecting tiny beads of sweat.

Summer always imagined that sleeping next to a boy would be disgusting. She was an only child and only saw cousins and aunts and uncles on holidays, so she hadn't had to go through it. But waking up next to Seth was comforting until she realized she wasn't supposed to be comforted by the shape of his back or the warmth of his breath. He didn't stink, either. He actually smelled like the college professor her Aunt Leslie used to date. Damien, and he smelled like a man. He used a bit too much cologne, but over his suits, it just slightly wafted, and to Summer's seven year old nose, it smelled like James Bond.

Summer left the bedroom and went to the shower, hoping that the water would be freezing.

Seth woke up ten minutes after the water turned on. He squinted his eyes at the open curtain, feeling the cramps in his arms and legs almost immediately. He stretched his arms out as far as they would go, groaning quietly at the cracking of his muscles. But while his right arm stretched out, the soft strands of hair he'd found in the middle of the night were nowhere to be found. He pushed himself up, and just as quietly, murmured, "Holl?"

But it hadn't been Holly. Holly always wrapped herself around him when she slept. The opening of the bathroom door made him realize he wasn't at home. The dark haired girl in the light pink towel reminded him that Holly wasn't here, and he had slept the night next to Summer Roberts.

"Morning," he groaned, rolling over onto his back.

"Morning," she whispered, flipping her hair out of the back of the towel.

"Did you, uh, sleep..."

"Shh." Summer pointed over at the cot, Ryan and Marissa's faces turned towards each other. Seth raised his eyebrows.

"Wow. The brother moves quick."

Summer shrugged, grabbing a blue tank top, white skirt, and underwear, and going back into the bathroom. Seth rubbed his head and stood up, walking lazily over to the suitcases. Summer stepped out of the bathroom, returning the small smile he gave her. He had seemed to have forgotten that he hated her enough to want to leave her on the side of the road, so she wasn't going to remind him.

"We should go get something to eat." Seth pulled a tee shirt over his head.

Summer nodded up at him walking through the motel door when he opened it, noting the now familiar warmth from his chest when she brushed her shoulder against him.

Restaurants within walking distance weren't fancy. Some were cleaner than others, however. Summer really just wanted to get out of the desert. She didn't care if it was skiing or back to the place she had learned to hate; she was just sick of the desert wind. But when she was walking into a place that finally had air conditioning, Seth's hand was pressed against her shirt which was already starting to stick to her back. And that was good.

Seth sat across the table in the booth with her, and she could feel the tapping from his foot on her ankle. As he read the menu, words were formed on his lips, some of them recognizable as breakfast foods, but eventually, they became incoherent. Then, the words took form into whispers.

"I see a little silhouetto of a man, scaramouche, scaramouche, will you do the fandango?"

Summer looked up, Seth's eyes still focused on the menu. She whispered back, "Thunderbolts and lightning, very, very frightening me."

"Galileo." Seth's lips moved, his voice rising to his normal speaking voice, but his face still not turning up.

"Galileo." Summer crossed her arms, staring at his lips.

"Galileo." Seth bit his lip, his finger pausing at something on the menu.

"Galileo."

"Galileo figaro magnifico." He lay the menu down, leaning back in his seat, finally looking at her.

"I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me." Summer smiled across the table at him.

"He's just a poor boy from a poor family." Seth's eyebrows rose.

"Spare him his life from this monstrosity." Summer cocked her head slightly to the left.

"Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?" Seth's words slowed down from the song's tempo.

"Bismillah, no, we will not let you go." Summer accented her syllables carefully.

"Let him go!"

"Bismillah, we will not let you go."

"Let me go."

"Will not let you go."

"Let me go."

"Will not let you go."

"Come on, let me go."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no." Summer shook her head slightly along with the beat.

"Mama mia, mama mia." Seth's half grin came back.

"Mama mia, let me go."

"Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me." Seth randomly raised the volume of his voice, his grin growing even wider.

"For me."

"For me." He put on a huge falsetto, closing his eyes, and banging his head to an imaginary guitar solo. "So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye."

"So you think you can love me and leave me to die. Oh baby, don't do this to me baby."

"Just gotta get out."

"Just gotta get right out of here."

Seth pulled out an air guitar, his eyes still closed, and he started singing the whining strands. "Oh, yeah, oh, yeah. Nothing really matters. Anyone can see."

"Nothing really matters. Nothing really matters to me." Summer dropped her voice to barely more than a whisper, and murmured, "Any way the wind blows."

Seth snapped his eyes open, a huge grin on his face. "You're a fan of Queen?"

"Who isn't?" Summer picked up her menu again, smiling up at the waitress when she walked over.

Seth watched as she ordered, her smile plastic to the waitress. After he muttered, "I'll have the same," he watched Summer tap her fingernails.

She caught his eye looking at her, raising her eyebrows slowly.

Seth shook his head and leaned backward. "So."

"So."

"Do you ski?"

"Like once. With my dad."

"Oh. I've gone with...you know, Brad, but he's more of a snowboarder so..."

"So I get to watch you fall. Looking forward to it, Cohen."

Seth cracked a grin without meaning to. Summer, Summer Roberts, was sitting across from him with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face, calling him Brad's own pet name for him.

"Yeah, well, seeing you come off your pedestal onto your ass could be enjoyable as well."

"This is why I plan to sleep and read the entire time."

"Aw, come on, Roberts, what fun is that? You have to have enough coolness in you to at least ski a little. Plus, it's a perfectly fine ass; you shouldn't be ashamed to fall on it." Seth's grin stretched farther, in control of his facial expressions again.

Summer's smirk morphed into a smile against her better judgment. There had to be something clever to shoot back, but at the moment, she couldn't think of anything.

Seth's head was tilted, and he wasn't moving his eyes from hers. His cocky grin suddenly seemed less cocky, and more endearing, and Summer wondered if she was turning into one of those Seth Cohen groupies. Not that she hadn't been a fan of his from the beginning, but the groupies were one step away from having tee shirts.

Bless the waitress and pancakes, waffles, bacon, and toast. It broke their eye contact and gave Summer something to do with her hands. She risked another sideways glance a little later, but Seth was staring at the mountain of food in front of him.

"God, hungry much, Roberts?"

"Maybe." She shrugged, not daring to risk another look up at him. And when she did, he was sticking a finger in the syrup the waitress placed in the center of the table.

"Ew."

Seth looked up unapologetically, shrugging. "Wanted to make sure it was maple."

"You know I'm going to have to eat that. And God knows where you've put those fingers."

"Well most recently, they were in your hair, so maybe I should be the one Valley Girl-ing it up. I don't know how big of a slut you are with your hair. I could be getting remnants of the entire state of California's fingers. Hell, why stop there? Maybe you've been on tour to Nevada, which means Vegas, which means businessmen from all over the world. My word, maybe I should wash my hands."

"Well there was Mr. Bryant in Las Vegas, but he promised that I was the only girl he'd ever touched, so you should be safe."

Seth laughed, dumping half the syrup over his entire breakfast.

"Ew. There's maple syrup on your bacon."

He shrugged. "It's all mixing in my belly later anyway."

"Belly?"

"Sorry. Stomach, small intestine, large intestine, and all that shit. Belly just came easier."

Summer rolled her eyes, biting into her own bacon. She sat in awkward silence, wondering if he was waiting for her to make conversation.

"So, Summer, the holidays are nearly upon us, and for the sake of conversation, how will you be celebrating them?"

She mimickingly shrugged. "Pretty basic. Tree, family, forced talk about the weather, my grades, and colleges I might be considering. What about you?" She crossed her arms again and looked up at his eyes concentrating on the waffles on her fork.

"Well, since you asked, I actually have a little invention."

"You invented the holidays. Wow, Seth, I knew you thought you were king, but I didn't know you thought you were God too."

"God and Moses. Oh yes, young Summer, I am leader of everything. As you might recall, my father is Jewish, and it just made sense to capitalize on the best Christianity and Judaism had to offer. Chrismukkah. Eight days of presents followed by one day of many presents."

"Chrismukkah."

"Yeah, so I don't offend either The New or The Old Testament."

Summer shrugged again, looking back at her abandoned fork. "I wouldn't know. I'm not really religious."

"Excellent, me neither. I just do it for the free tee shirts. And the food. Damn, the food is good. So is this." Seth bit into his drenched toast.

Summer nodded. "It is good."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes until Summer couldn't take it anymore.

"So, you're probably not going to be doing that much skiing anyway. Holly will need tending too."

Seth set down his fork, a slightly amused smile on his lips. "Why are you so interested in my relationship with her? You don't really know her, and you're just getting the pleasure of getting to know me."

"Sh-She's your girlfriend. I thought you'd like to talk about her. Marissa does, anyway. About her boyfriend."

Seth snorted. "Holly and I aren't exactly the golden couple that is Marissa and Luke."

"But you guys are still going out."

"I don't like that one. That label. Going out. We don't really go out that much."

"Well, yeah, you're a player, right, so you'd just stay in."

"No one called me a player until I made out with you, so I don't know if I'd stick to a stereotype, but yes. Actually, usually we just stay in and have dinner with her father or at 'the club.'"

Summer cast her gaze downward. "Oh."

Seth nodded, looking down too. "Sorry. I didn't mean to."

"You didn't do anything."

"I yelled. And, I mean, if I insulted you, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I shouldn't have made any sort of assumption or, like, pried or anything anyway."

"It's okay. You can't help but delve into my personal life. It's all just because you're in love with me. And I totally can respect that."

Seth looked up at her, making sure she was smiling until he broke out another grin. Summer giggled almost silently. "Yeah, actually, that must be it."

"You can't hide things from me, Summer."

"Obviously not."

"I should've expected the prying anyway. You're also a rather nosy person."

"I'm nosy?"

"Yes." Seth took a sip from his coffee mug.

"Well, I'm not the one that wanted to make small talk about the holidays and offered my entire opinion on religion."

Seth furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Summer's jaw dropped, her cheeks slightly flushing. "Sorry. I'm kind of going through these rage blackouts."

"Really."

"Yeah, ever since I smacked your girlfriend."

"Yeah, well, Holly'll do that to a person."

Summer nodded, finishing her breakfast, and asking the waitress for the check. She grabbed her purse. Seth rolled his eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"Paying for my half. It's clean cut down the middle, because we got the same things."

Seth sighed and pulled the check towards him. "I may not be a gentleman, but I'm not a pathetic ass either." He pulled a card out of his back pocket and handed it and the check back to the waitress.

Summer raised her eyebrows, but Seth just shrugged. "Good breeding. You ready to get out of here?"

"Yeah."

Seth stood up, Summer following, and let his hand graze the back of her shirt again on their way out. He closed the door behind her, and turned back to her palms on his cheeks. She leaned forward, her eyes closed, but Seth leaned backward.

"Hey! What's up?"

Summer fell back down to the balls of her feet, blushing furiously. "Sorry. I just…I'm sorry."

She started to walk away, her arms crossed beneath her breasts, but Seth caught her arm. She spun around to look at him, tears threatening her eyes.

"Hey. Hey, don't do that." He pulled her arm closer to him, letting her face settle into his shirt so he wouldn't get to see her cry.

Summer kept her arms tucked in between the two of his. It was one of the most awkward almost hugs she had felt in her entire life. She also fit the best into it.

"…and it's not that you're a bad kisser or anything, it's just that she was already ready to rip off my balls before, so if it happened again, I don't think I'd ever get to become one of those grandpas that looks underneath his granddaughters' friends' skirts, which really is my goal, so you know, we wouldn't want anything to come between me achieving it."

"Cohen." Summer looked up at him, realizing that he had her tucked underneath his chin.

"Yeah."

"Don't ramble. I get it."

"All right, buddy." He patted her on the head, a shy smile making its first appearance. "Let's wake up the lovebirds back at the motel."

Summer nodded, letting him pull away his warmness, and walk her back down the street. This time, though, he kept his hands to himself.

Summer opened the door to see Ryan finish making the cot, laying the pillows down. He offered her a timid smile, and she smiled back until Marissa came out of the bathroom, her hair still soaking.

"Marissa? Is something…"

"My parents are getting divorced."

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry." Summer walked across the room and reached her arms up around Marissa's shoulders. "Do you want to go back?"

"I don't want to ruin you guys' trip."

"We'll call a cab, and the boys will keep going. I don't care."

"We can go with you," Seth replied. "I'd want to protect my mother from your father, anyway, Cooper. I've seen how he still looks at her." He smiled, attempting reassurance.

Marissa smiled back, but shook her head anyway. "My dad said it would be better if we kept going anyways."

Summer nodded. "When my parents broke up, my mom dumped all of my stuff and my dad's stuff on the sidewalk. At least this way, by the time we get back, your dad will have had time to get all your stuff dry cleaned."

Marissa smiled a little more faintly. "I'll probably have to live with my mother. Oh my god, I'm going to have to live with my mother."

"Marissa, think of it this way. You'll get to stay around me and Ryan. What a lucky girl." Seth stepped closer, his hand falling on Marissa's back. Summer noticed. She noted that it must just be something he did, not anything special for her.

"Right. It won't be so bad. You guys just have to promise to keep the pool house unlocked in case I need to escape."

Ryan coughed quietly. "Uh, that's actually where I sleep."

Seth shot him a look.

Ryan stammered, "B-But of course, I can take the couch. Anything for the survival from Julie Cooper."

"That's the spirit, dude. So are you sure you still want to go?" Seth asked.

"Yeah. I'll go. This is going to be fun, and I should…do fun now. I don't want to deal with my parents now anyways."

Summer smiled, her pinky grazing against Seth's thumb on Marissa's back.

"I'm fine, you guys. Let's get back on the road. The bus has probably been there for at least ten hours now. We don't want them to miss us too bad."

They got to Colorado another three hours later. Seth getting attacked by Holly as soon as they stepped out.

"Oh my god, Cohen, I was so worried. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine. We just had some car trouble."

"We? Like you and Ryan?"

Summer stepped out of the backseat and Holly's face fell. "Oh. Her. I forgot you were coming with her."

"Yeah. I told you a while ago."

"Yes. Yes, you did. I should've remembered."

"You should've."

"Did she behave herself on the way over?"

"Like an angel."

"Like a nun?"

"What are you so worried about?"

"She wants you, Seth. Can't you see the way she looks at you?"

"Like a human being she wants to crush?"

"More like one she'd like to bang."

"Well, I can't help that, baby. So do most of the kids here. Hell, even most of the teachers."

Holly giggled, leaning up to kiss him on the lips. He leaned up to make it a short kiss, still slightly smiling at her, though.

"You want to help me get my stuff?"

Holly snorted and pulled open her jacket to show off a dark red bikini top. "I'm going to the pool. Meet me there when you're unpacked."

"What room am I in?"

Holly rolled her eyes. "The teachers are so lame and denied Daddy's request for us to room together. You're with Ryan and like some random. But I can sneak over whenever you need me."

"Oh. Okay. But I meant what number? Do you know?"

"Yeah, like 257. You're all the way in another hall from me."

"All right. Well, I'll see you in a few minutes."

"Okay." Holly looked at Summer one more time before kissing him on the mouth and prancing off. Summer rolled her eyes, angry that Holly knew she had been watching, and raised her voice. "Hey, Mariss? Mr. Glick told me our room number before we left." Her eyes fell on Seth, pleased that he had been watching her instead of Holly leaving. "255."

Bohemian Rhapsody lyrics by Freddie Mercury