Author's Notes: thanks yet again for all the comments! Y'all really make me feel appreciated! To answer a question, I absolutely intend on covering Lindsay, D.J, and Alex! It's not going to be as easy to see me go episode by episode because Ryan and Marissa didn't have a whole lot of interaction in that time period, but I fully intend on discussing how they felt about their other partners, how they felt about each other's other partners, and the feelings they had for those other people compared to the feelings they have for each other. I really feel like they didn't talk about this time period enough, so I'm definitely planning on convering a lot of ground here. In response to another comment, the POV that Ryan is somehow Marissa's victim or that she's "sucking the life out of him" is not one you'll see in this story. I totally respect that opinion, but for me that takes out the choice Ryan has willingly- if not eagerly- made to be with her time and time again. Ryan knows what he's doing by now. He's a smart guy. He knows who she is and all the baggage she comes with, and he wants to be with her anyway. As for the Theresa situation, I absolutely believe Marissa was insecure about that. Insecurity doesn't really have anything to do with what Marissa's done wrong. No matter what she's done, that doesn't mean she isn't insecure sometimes.

Chapter Fifteen

Ryan and Marissa stayed cuddled together in comfortable silence for awhile, simply enjoying being close to each other after talking about a period where they'd believed they never would be again. They were interrupted at length by Marissa's stomach growling. Ryan cracked up and Marissa blushed. "Guess that's the cue to go scrounge something from the kitchen up for dinner. Tonight, we have a wide variety of choices ranging from mac and cheese to…mac and cheese."

"Well, that's a tough one," Ryan laughed. "Mac and cheese it is." He playfully smacked her butt as she climbed off his lap and she giggled. "Come on, I'll help. And by help, I mean watch."

Marissa rolled her eyes. "Oooh, don't strain yourself there." She dragged herself off the bed. "Give me a minute to get cleaned up in the bathroom." She went to head that way, then paused and turned back to the bed. "Ryan?" she inquired hesitantly. "I know this whole thing was my idea, full disclosure and stuff, but is it okay if we don't go too much into what happened last summer? I mean, we can talk about what went on in our lives, but…"

"I know what you mean," Ryan interrupted, seeing she was struggling how to explain it. "We talked about that as much as it could be talked about then, so I don't think we're cheating if we gloss over that."

Marissa smiled faintly. "Okay. Be back in a minute." She slipped into the bathroom, just closing the door behind her before her façade crumbled and she quietly slid down the door, sinking to the floor. The entire last summer had been sheer, unadulterated hell. While this one hadn't exactly been a walk in a park either, at least she wasn't so utterly alone this time. She couldn't remember a single happy moment the entire summer, but one memory in particular was especially painful.

If she'd known, she probably wouldn't have been altogether surprised that Ryan had lain back down on the bed and was staring listlessly up at the ceiling, remembering the same thing. One memory of the summer before was more vividly, agonizingly clear than all the rest….

They had tried to talk at first. Marissa, desperately needing to hear his voice, had called him a week after he'd gone back to Chino. She knew she'd tried and failed miserably to sounds casual as opposed to desperate, but they'd managed to find an uneasy balance. Even if they were talking about things that didn't matter, at least they could hear each other's voices.

Ryan wouldn't have admitted it back then, but he lived for those calls at points. Seth wasn't talking to him, although he'd heard about his running away- just one more thing on a pile of things to feel guilty about- and his conversations with Sandy and Kirsten were few and far between, mainly focused on Seth and Theresa. Marissa never ventured near the topic of Theresa- Ryan had a feeling she couldn't handle touching on that and to be frank, he had no complaints in that area- but she was the only one who seemed to care how HE was doing. How was his job, had he run into old friends, was he sleeping, was he eating. He needed that. He needed to know she still cared, that he'd still matter to her long after he was gone. He needed to just hear her voice. It made it easier to remember what she looked like, what she felt like. Sometimes the memory of her voice was all that kept him going through the day. Even if the calls were awkward and painful, they were better than no connection at all. Until one day…

Marissa had listlessly agreed to help her mother with a charity function. Not that she particularly wanted to do her mother any favors, but it was a way out of the house, and the less she saw her mother, the less her mother could tell she was drinking and hassle her about it. Her drinking had taken on an entirely different life this time around; she wasn't doing it to lash out or get attention. She simply wanted to escape into the black numbness, the only place where she wasn't constantly angry and in pain. She'd agreed to go to the bakery and pick up the petit fours, planning on taking her time getting back so she'd be good and numbed by the time of the party. She was standing in the middle of the bakery, staring absently into space, when suddenly the back of her neck prickled in a way it hadn't in weeks. Half convinced she was going insane at last, she turned around.

Ryan was standing in the entrance to the doorway.

At first she truly thought she had sunk to making things up, but he looked different. His hair was longer, he obviously hadn't shaved in awhile, his clothes were dirty, and he looked utterly exhausted and miserable. He was staring straight at her, his big blue eyes wide with shock.

Seeing Marissa hit Ryan almost as it had the first time; he felt the reaction all the way down to his bones. She looked beautiful, even more so than he remembered. She was obviously unhappy- his heart responded with an agonizing pain- and there was something else off he couldn't quite put his finger on but even with that, she was like water in the desert to his starved eyes. "Hi," he finally managed to get out.

For one crazy, insane instant Marissa had the fantasy that Ryan had somehow changed his mind, that he couldn't wait another second to tell her he was coming home and he had hunted her down to tell her just that. Her face started to break into a smile as she made her way to him- then she froze.

"Hey, are you ready for the doctor's appointment?" Theresa had come up behind Ryan to slip her arm into his. Her eyes widened when they connected with Marissa's. "Marissa," she said awkwardly. "Hey."

A thousand agonizing thoughts and feelings slammed into Marissa in one dizzying instant. Ryan was here for Theresa. He picked Theresa up from work. They went to doctor's appointments together. Ryan and Theresa were in a lifelong situation together, one she had no part in. It was over. It had BEEN over.

"Miss?" Another bakery worker came up beside her. "Here's your order-" Marissa, unable to take being in that room for another instant, cut the woman off by shoving money at her, grabbing the box, and rushing out the door. She heard Ryan weakly say her name as she pushed past him, but she just couldn't bring herself to turn around. She didn't have enough in her to be gracious one more time.

She didn't know how long she drove for until the tears blurred her vision too much to drive. She pulled over into an empty parking lot and stopped the car, resting her arms across the steering wheel and sobbing into them. She hadn't really broken down since Ryan left. She'd gotten a little teary and emotional at points, but she hadn't just let herself CRY until now.

How could she have been so stupid? How could she have forgotten that was the bakery where they originally ran into Theresa? A little voice in her head reminded her that she could never seem to retain much of any information when she was drinking, but she ignored it. The only thing keeping her from walking into the ocean right now was the thought of that blessed black oblivion that came from alcohol.

She didn't know how long she stayed there, grieving alone for all the chances she and Ryan would never have. They'd never go to prom together, never graduate together, never pick out colleges together. Back when she'd been at the height of giddily falling in love, she'd even done what probably no high school girl should do considering how high school relationships usually turned out: imagined marrying him one day and spending their entire lives together. All those silly fantasies in her mind had been lost forever, and she was left with nothing.

After what felt like an hour of crying, Marissa finally composed herself enough to wipe her eyes and put the car back in gear, heading towards the prison she now called home. She'd pass the petit fours to her mother and make some lame excuse, and head straight for her safe spot underneath the lifeguard stand where she went when she was getting especially hammered. Alone. As always.

Ryan sat on the edge of the bed in his drab room, staring blankly into space. He'd gone to the doctor's appointment with Theresa on auto pilot; in his mind, he was still standing in the bakery, staring helplessly at the stricken, horrified face of the woman he loved. He knew now that the thing "off" about her was that she'd been drinking. Part of him wanted to be disappointed and angry, another part wanted to accept he couldn't change her life anymore and had to let it go, but more than anything he felt overwhelmingly responsible. Logically, he knew Marissa was choosing to drink, but he wasn't sure he'd ever felt so useless in his life. All he knew was that she was hurting and not only could he not do anything about it; he was CAUSING a large part of it.

"Hey." Theresa startled him out of his thoughts as she appeared in the doorway. "Do you want some dinner, or…"

"You knew she was there." Theresa paused at his quiet, matter of fact words, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. "You knew she was there before you came up, and you came up anyway and mentioned the appointment."

Theresa stared past him for a moment, her eyes filled with conflicting shame and resentment. "Yeah," she simply admitted at length. "I did."

Ryan swallowed back his angry retort, knowing that wouldn't solve anything. "I know you're scared," he said finally. "I know this is really hard on you and you're protecting what you've got. But she has done nothing to do you. She's never been anything but nice to you."

Theresa's eyes started to flash. "You think I don't hear you on the phone to her sometimes? You think I don't know you're wishing you were with her every day you're here?"

"What do you want from me, Theresa?" Ryan asked tiredly. "I never said I fell out of love with Marissa. I don't even think I know how. But I dropped everything and came here to stay with you and this baby. I left her behind. Is it really so bad for me to spend some time talking to her on the phone?" Not that Ryan thought they'd be doing much of that anymore. "I walked out on her, after I promised her I wouldn't. Has she really done something to deserve being hurt more than she already is?"

All the anger seemed to drain out of Theresa. "No," she admitted quietly. "I'm not proud of myself, okay? I even like Marissa. I don't set out to hurt her. I just…I get defensive."

Ryan nodded, more exhausted than he ever thought he would be at sixteen. "I'm not trying to attack you or upset you; I don't even know why this matters since I don't think I'll be having much contact with Marissa anymore." The thought was so painful he almost couldn't stand it, so he quickly shoved it into the back of his mind. "Just…you don't have to be angry with her. There's no point to it."

Theresa smiled faintly. "Call her one more time Ryan. You know you have to." Ryan looked up in surprise, then nodded gratefully. He knew that was her way of trying to make it up. She gave him another quick, painful smile and exited the room, shutting the door behind her.

Ryan took a deep, shaky breath. He was dreading this call because he knew it might well be their last. At the very least, it would be their last for a very long time. He didn't want to face that. He didn't want to think beyond the phone call, the long stretches of empty days without even the sound of her voice to hold onto. And yet he knew the calls would no longer bring the comfort they had before because he'd seen with his own eyes how badly he was hurting her. He had to let her go. What he wanted to do was drive down to Newport and swear he'd never leave her again, but that wouldn't do anything but hurt everyone involved because it wasn't a promise he could keep. He just…had to let her go. He rubbed his hand harshly over his face to will back the tears he felt coming and picked up the phone.

As soon as her cell rang, Marissa knew who it was. For a moment, she considered not answering, but that seemed too…cruel, somehow. It wasn't like he'd done anything wrong. Sighing deeply, she put down her flask before picking up the phone. "Hi," she said, simply and softly.

"Hey," he responded quietly, his heart already aching at the sound of her voice. She was further on the path to drunk than she'd been at the bakery; he could tell. "I'm so sorry about today. I wish that you hadn't had to see that."

"Ryan, you have nothing to be sorry about," Marissa said tiredly. "I should have remembered she worked there; you didn't do anything wrong." She could feel the tears coming again and fought a losing battle to hold them back. "I just…" she took a shuddering breath. "I can't do this anymore," she admitted in a shaky whisper. "I wanted to be a good friend. I wanted to let you know how much I still…how much I still care about you. But it hurts too much." She bit back a quiet sob; instead allowing the tears to stream silently down her face. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." Ryan felt the tears sting his eyes, felt the blow to his heart that he'd known was coming and yet somehow hadn't been able to protect himself against. "God, don't be sorry. It's not your fault. I just want you to be okay. I want you to be happier than you obviously are right now."

Marissa didn't even know if she knew the meaning of the term 'happy' anymore. "I still want…" she struggled for the words to express how she was feeling. "I mean, I'm still here. If you really need someone, I'm still here. I don't want to totally become strangers. I just need…I need to break away from this somehow. I know that sounds selfish because you can't…"

"It doesn't sound selfish," Ryan forced himself to say. It wasn't selfish, he knew that. It was what he wanted for her. And yet there was this little part of him that wanted to beg her to never stop calling him. "You shouldn't be dragged down by this; it's enough that I have to be." He didn't know what else to say, but he couldn't bring himself to hang up the phone just yet. He didn't want their last conversation for God knows how long to be over already. He wanted to tell her he'd be there for her if she needed him; he couldn't. He wanted to tell her to check in and tell him how her life was going; he had no right to know. He wanted to tell her to wait for him; wait for what? He wasn't coming back.

"I'll…" Marissa froze in mid sentence. She wasn't going to be talking to him later, was she? The finality of it was crushing. "I have to go," she said hastily, and quickly hung up knowing if she didn't then, she never would. For the second time that day, she buried her face in her hands and cried.

Ryan sat in silence for a second, hating the sound of the dial tone with every fiber of his being. Slowly, he put the phone back in its cradle. He didn't bother attempting to stop the few tears that slid down his face; no one was around to watch him now.

That was it. That might be the last time they ever talked. They no longer had those bittersweet moments to look forward to; there was nothing but a vast, endless emptiness that might never end.

Marissa was startled out of her bleak thoughts by a soft knocking on the bathroom door. With a start, she realized she'd probably been in there for awhile. Sighing, she dragged herself to her feet and opened the door. It only took one look at Ryan's face to know he'd been thinking about that same day, and felt as ravaged as she did by it. Wordlessly, he opened his arms and she went into them; wondering if she could somehow be absorbed by him if she hugged him tightly enough.

"I know you don't want to talk about it; I don't really, either," Ryan murmured into her hair. "And I meant what I said earlier; I think we were both pretty honest back then. I mean, part of me wanted to keep talking to you and the other part of me couldn't take the pain, but I think you probably know that and felt the same way."

"I did," Marissa confirmed, her words muffled against his chest. "And I was drunk, but I think you probably knew that, too."

Ryan sighed. "I did. I think anything else that brought up can be covered in what happened right before and when I came home. I just…that's never going to happen again. I haven't wanted to make promises since I didn't exactly keep them the last time, but I really can't see a situation where anything like that would happen again. Just for me, I don't think I could go through it again."

Marissa smiled weakly against him and pulled away just enough so that she could look in his eyes. "Well, it's like you said. If you leave again?" She stroked his cheek. "I'm coming with you."