Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. I wouldn't be writing about it if I did.
Note: Reposted as a one shot, because thats what it should've been. Please read and review.
A loud clap of thunder made the house tremble. He awoke from a fitful sleep, rubbing his eyes. He looked over at her sleeping form and sighed. She rolled over and reached for him. "Seth...," she breathed, "I thought you would've left." He shuddered at the fact of her using his real name. He let her pull him down towards her. He didn't remember falling asleep, but when he woke again the sun was coming up. He listened to her breathing before looking at the clock. 5:38.
He slid out of the bed, noticing that his shirtless body was hot and sticky. The early fall heat was still strong. The heat between them was strong, but it didn't matter to him anymore. Nothing had really mattered lately. Everything was slipping away. Summer had called him around ten, saying things like "I need you, Seth," and "Come over, no one's home." He braved the rain, taking Ryan's bike instead of the car, not wanting to explain to his parents why he was leaving for the night. He knew he could explain it to Ryan. He was always able to.
He walked over to his discarded clothing and started to dress. He dressed methodically, and wondered if Zach waited until she was awake before he left. He laughed bitterly at the thought. Zach. The nemesis to his superhero. "Comic books aren't supposed to be based on love," he thought, pulling his shirt over his head. But most of the things he had done in the past year had been based on love. He stood on a coffee cart, declaring his love for Summer. He had made a fool of himself in front of her father, because he wanted to impress him. He loved Summer. He had left because he had felt deserted when Ryan left. He loved Ryan. Sometimes Summer felt like it was a contest. And she knew it was one she was going to lose.
He looked around for his sweatshirt, working hard to avoid looking at her. He spotted it on her dresser. He slowly walked over to it, reaching for his crumpled shirt. He remembered being in such a rush to discard it the night before. After he slipped it over his head, he looked at her dresser. Makeup and nail polish were neatly placed on top. Summer had a place for everything. Well, not him. Not anymore.
His gaze averted to the mirror, where there were notes and various pictures taped up. There were several pictures of her and Marissa, from the summer, he figured. They were at the beach, smiling like they didn't have a care in the world. Seth couldn't of known that there was no way the pictures were from that summer. It was hard to spot a smile on either Marissa or Summer's face for those three months. They had no reason to.
On the left side of the mirror, he saw a picture of himself, his arm thrown carelessly around Summer's shoulders. They were at some sort of charity event, he couldn't remember which one. They were smiling, in love. He smiled at the sight of it, not knowing that every time Summer looked at it, she cried. On the right side of the mirror, there was a picture from the end of this summer. It was a photo of Summer and Zach. They were in a similar pose, but her smile looked jaded, forced. Fake. Zach was holding on to her tighter than Seth had. Something about it looked wrong, but Seth couldn't place it. He laughed, a laugh with once again a bitter undertone and realized that it looked wrong because it wasn't him that she was in love with, smiling with. The sun began to stream through the window as he reached for the mirror. He untaped the picture on the left and took it down. He looked at it one time, examining it. Then he ripped it in half, leaving the remnants of the picture and the heartbreak of young love on top of Summer's dresser.
He looked at her sleeping frame one last time before quietly slipping out the door into the morning sunshine. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but he only ever needed three.