When You Least Expect It Chapter Ten
"Sorry I'm late!" Marissa said breathlessly, running up to Ryan at the doctor's office.
"It's five minutes," he laughed, standing to give her a kiss hello. "I could have driven myself to and from here instead of Seth picking me up and you dropping me off, you know." He was relishing in finally being able to drive again, after a few weeks of physical therapy. It had been really hard at first; the muscles in his leg had deteriorated a lot and he hadn't realized how painful the whole process would be on his knee; he about collapsed the first time he stood on his own. But he'd fought through it and worked hard at it, and he was making some progress. He was at least decent at walking with just the knee brace now, even if he didn't particularly enjoy standing for very long.
"No, it makes more sense for us to go to this party together and I just got out of my stupid meeting in time," she sighed, linking her hand with his as they strolled out of the doctor's office together. "I promised Mary Jo I'd help set this thing up. My outfit's in the car; I don't even have time to change anywhere else so I'll have to do it at her place."
"Outfit?" Ryan asked skeptically, looking down at his classic jeans- he loved the return of the jeans- tank top, and over shirt.
She nudged him playfully. "Baby, in all the time you've been with me I hope you realize party attire is different for girls. You can go in jeans. I can't." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "How was your session? You look a little tired," she noted in concern. "We probably won't stay for long; the poor girl is just totally hopeless at setting up her own event. As soon as it gets underway, we can leave."
"I'm fine," Ryan protested, even though the idea of leaving one of these ridiculous parties early never sounded like a bad idea to him. "I don't want to ruin the party for you."
"Please," she rolled her eyes. "These things lost a lot of their appeal to me a long time ago. I'd rather go home and play with my dog." That sounded like Marissa; she'd taken to her dog even more than Ryan thought she would. "So, I help set up, we find a chair in a dark corner we can make out in for awhile, I make sure everything is running smoothly, and we skip out and go to my house and watch a movie with Macbeth. Sound like a plan?"
"Sounds like a great plan," Ryan smiled, giving her a quick kiss before letting her go so they could get in her car.
She really was good at this, Ryan marveled a half hour lateras he quietly sat back and watch Marissa take charge of the party set up. She knew exactly what to do in any given situation to make any social event perfect for whatever crowd she was planning it for, and when she was setting up she was good at being take charge without being bitchy. Random things sometimes still made her seem a little out of his league. This was one of them. It was hard not to feel like that same old "Chino" when he sat back and watched her at her most polished, elegant, and poised. But sometimes she would turn around, catching him watching her, and give him that smile that she gave so few people, the smile he knew was more real and happy than the one she was giving all the party people. Knowing he could put that smile on her face made him feel better.
To Ryan's surprise, he enjoyed the early part of the party. He, Marissa, Seth, and Summer dominated their own little corner and they weren't bothered except by people who generally liked them. The music was good, the food was good, and he could talk and laugh with his arms wrapped around his girlfriend. All in all, not a bad night.
"Uh oh," Marissa laughed about an hour into the party, squeezing the arm Ryan had wrapped around her. "Mary Jo is looking a little helpless. I better go over there and perform some damage control." She looked up at him. "Maybe another half hour or so? I should be able to smooth things out enough by then."
"Whenever you want," Ryan assured her, giving her a soft kiss before releasing her and watching her slip off into the party.
"Whipped," Seth muttered under his breath, then loudly protested as Summer smacked him.
"Shut up, Cohen! It's cute. Take notes."
Ryan rolled his eyes and laughed in spite of himself, easily getting lost in the banter of his two friends. However, as the minutes went by, he started getting a little antsy. When he checked his watch and realized it was 45 minutes after Marissa had gone into the crowd, he decided to go searching for her. She still gets more caught up in this than she thinks she does, he smiled faintly to himself as he searched the party. He spotted her laughing by the big table and headed in that direction- and suddenly froze.
There was a bottle of vodka right next to her on the table. She was holding a glass of clear liquid. He watched her, time seeming to move in slow motion, as she lifted the glass and took a drink.
A thousand thoughts, feelings, and memories slammed into him all at once. Mother drinking father drinking Marissa drinking Kirsten drinking drunkdriverfuckedupmylife. All of the sudden, every ounce of pain the accident had caused him flared up again, taking his breath away and causing unadulterated rage to seep through his system. Almost without realizing what he was doing, he moved to Marissa's side. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, quietly, but harshly.
Marissa jumped in surprise. "Ryan…" she said, seemingly confused, which only pissed him off all the more. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" he mocked sarcastically. "What the hell do you think is wrong? Did you think I was going to be your DD tonight since I can finally drive again after spending MONTHS not being able to because a drunk driver trashed my life? Or were you just going to go out and trash someone's life the way that kid did, get yourself killed in the process?" His voice had risen to a shout; he didn't even notice. Marissa's face was getting paler and paler; her eyes were wide with shock, humiliation, and something else he was too furious to identify. Images were spilling into his head, too fast for him to make any sense of them. A collage of fights with his drunken mother, trying to coax a smashed Marissa to leave a Christmas party, searching through the water for Lindsay, and facing an intervention with an irate Kirsten were all colliding through his head, making it hard for him to think clearly. "Nothing ever changes with you, does it?" he bit out viciously. "After everything we've been through the past few months, you pull THIS crap? Come on, we're getting out of here." He went to grab her arm- and was surprised when she forcefully but coolly pulled it away from him.
"Don't touch me." Her voice was ice cold. There was another factor in there…something at the back of his mind…before he could focus on it, she very deliberately took two steps towards him and looked him straight in the eye.
"This is water." He heard the words, but they didn't register at first. Stunned speechless, he looked into her eyes and could see, SEE that she was sober. Oh, God. "If you don't believe me…" she was going on. "Taste it for yourself." A sudden jerk of her hand and he could feel the cold water splash into his face. He barely flinched; his mind still couldn't completely accept he'd just screwed up that badly. All of the sudden, he realized the room was dead silent and everyone was staring at them; he'd just utterly humiliated them both. Before he could even begin to think of words to form, she was gone.
He didn't remember getting out of the party. The next thing he knew, he was sitting in Seth's car, his mind still reeling as Seth sat quietly beside him. "Ryan…" Seth ventured tentatively at length.
"Don't tell me what I just did is okay," Ryan interrupted him, his voice cold and dead. Whereas it had been a kaleidoscope of memories about drunken fights in his head earlier, now he was simply picturing Marissa's face in his mind over and over. There had been indescribable pain in her face along with the humiliation before she shut down; he could see that now. It was tearing slowly but steadily at everything inside of him.
"Well, I wasn't going to say okay, but maybe understandable," Seth tried. "You guys have a history with alcohol. I don't know if you dealt with that…"
"Clearly, we didn't," Ryan muttered.
Seth spread his hands. "And then there was the accident. That'd mess with anyone's head. And…I mean, come ON. The bottle was RIGHT THERE."
Ryan shook his head tiredly, running a hand over his face. "What the hell am I even supposed to say to her? I just basically smashed all the trust between us and screamed at her in front of all her friends for drinking a glass of water."
Seth lifted his shoulders. "Dude, if that happened at all the trust needed work to begin with. And let's face it, she's had her moments at parties." He sighed. "Just apologize and explain, man. She knows how she used to be."
"USED to be," Ryan repeated pointedly. "Anyway, something tells me she isn't just at her house waiting for me this time."
Seth was silent for a long minute; Ryan turned to look at him in confusion. "What?" he asked curiously.
Seth sighed deeply. "Summer's going to kick my ass for this…but Marissa's at her place." He raised his brows. "Should we go?"
The prospect of facing Marissa made Ryan feel sick with shame and fear. Still, she'd chased after him plenty the past few months. It was his turn. No matter what, she at least deserved his apology. "Let's go," he said softly.
"Coop?" Summer sat beside Marissa on the bed and helplessly stroked her hair. "Baby, how are you feeling?"
Marissa shrugged lifelessly, leaning curled up against Summer's bedpost. "Numb," she mumbled. "I feel like this is some horrible dream I'll wake up from."
Summer bit her lip. "Coop…I have to say this right now, and I hope you don't hate me for it. I think you should take a break from Ryan right now."
Marissa shifted her eyes to Summer. "You're not helping," she said coolly, then went back to staring at the wall.
"Marissa…" Summer sighed. "You've twisted yourself inside out for this boy. You turned yourself into a human pretzel after the accident. And he repays you by pulling this?"
"I also spent the first two years he knew me drinking like a fish for long periods of time," Marissa said flatly. "Besides, the party thing isn't that big a deal at the end of the day. Nothing I haven't done to myself before."
Summer groaned. "First of all, that doesn't give him the right to humiliate you. Second of all, if he wanted to bitch you out about drinking, he's had about a year to do it since that's as long as it's been since I've even seen you drunk. That argument is lame at this point."
"It's not that simple," Marissa mumbled, still too tired to infuse any life into her argument. "Things happened so fast to us as soon as we got back together, we didn't have a chance to focus on things that weren't happening like RIGHT then. I started this. Alcohol is like one of his biggest issues, and I made it worse. I was surprised he even got back together with me in the first place. And then there's the accident…"
Summer reached out and touched her face, startling Marissa into looking back at her. "That's what I mean," she said gently. "Maybe it's not Ryan's fault for feeling the way he feels, but you can't change the problem you had with alcohol. The only thing you could do was stop drinking, and you HAVE. After everything you've done for Ryan over the past few months? He could at least take you aside and ASK you if you've been drinking instead of screaming at you in public."
"He just spent the last few months trying to get his life back together after a drunk driver trashed it," Marissa sighed. "If he sees a bottle of vodka next to someone he cares about, particularly someone who's abused alcohol before, he isn't going to think rationally. It was just a misunderstanding."
"It wouldn't happen if he trusted you," Summer pointed out, bluntly if not unkindly. "I'm not going to fight about if you deserve it," she forcefully continued, holding up her hand to ward off any protests. "You can't do ANYTHING, and I mean ANYTHING, more than what you've already done these past few months to prove yourself. If he still doesn't trust you…"
Marissa felt tears sting her eyes; part of her brain had been telling her the same thing for the last hour and the other part didn't want to hear it. She leaned into Summer's hug, burying her face in her shoulder. Summer stroked her back soothingly, then suddenly stiffened. "Oh, HELL no," she muttered, pulling away abruptly.
Marissa blinked, startled. "Sum? What's going on?"
Summer hopped off the bed to stare out the window for a second. "I am going to KICK Cohen's ASS from here to the year 2010," she declared, and was out of the room before Marissa could even begin to understand what she was talking about.
Ryan seriously felt like he was going to throw up as he got out of the car. "Seth, maybe this isn't such a good idea. Maybe I should give her some time," he said warily.
"Time to decide she hates you?" Seth shot back. "Best to get these things done quickly."
"That helped, thanks," Ryan said wryly. They headed up the steps but before they could even get to the door it swung up and Summer came storming out.
"Get off my property," she immediately ordered Ryan.
Ryan closed his eyes; he couldn't say he didn't feel like he deserved that. "Summer…"
"No, I'm serious," she snapped, her eyes flashing like fire. "Leave. Right now. And take this jackass who can't keep his mouth shut with you."
Seth rolled his eyes. "Summer, this is ridiculous. They're going to talk sooner or later."
"IF she decides she wants to talk to him, it's going to be on her terms, not his," Summer bit out. "For now, he can just leave her alone for a change. He's done enough the past few months."
Seth's jaw dropped. "Oh come on, Summer. That is NOT fair."
"No, no," Summer insisted, her voice gradually rising to a shout as she continued her speech. "You know what, I haven't said anything about this because he was in an accident and I feel for him. But my best friend has been there for him EVERY step of the way. Do you know she nearly made herself sick because she didn't sleep and barely remembered to eat while he was in the hospital? How about all the times I caught her crying or about to cry because he made her feel like shit? Or how her grades slipped because she was too busy making sure his didn't? How she missed a presentation in creative writing she'd been looking forward to for months that time she drove him home and he slammed the door in her face? And this is how he treats her in return. I'm sorry, that's bullshit."
Seth clenched his jaw, clearly fighting a losingbattle with his temper. "If your best friend hadn't spent the last two years drunk a good 70 of the time, they wouldn't be having this argument," he snapped. "Don't try to paint her as a saint here. The accident wasn't Ryan's fault. Her drinking WAS her fault."
Ryan had listened silently to Summer's tirade, feeling his stomach drop further and further into his shoes with each word out of her mouth. He'd had a feeling Marissa's life hadn't exactly been easy all this time, but he'd had no idea it had gotten to the point where she literally almost made herself sick. He'd felt powerless to move or speak as Summer ranted, but as soon as the words left Seth's mouth Ryan's gaze went past both of them- to see Marissa standing in the doorway. He saw the look of exhausted defeat wash over her face and found his voice at last. "Seth, that's enough," he spoke up forcefully.
"Hey, I'm trying to defen…" Seth followed Ryan's gaze and his voice trailed off, suddenly flushing red. All four of them stood there staring at each other silently for a long moment, lines of division almost visible in the group. At last, Marissa broke the silence.
"Summer, it's fine. Really. I'm okay." She warded off another protest of Summer's by giving her a quick hug. "Thank you for defending me, but it's not necessary." Her eyes met Ryan's. "You don't have to protect me from him."
Ryan wasn't exactly sure what that was supposed to mean, if it was good or bad, but at least she wasn't threatening to call the cops on him.
"Yeah….we're going to go inside now," Seth said awkwardly, herding Summer inside before she could protest too much and leaving Ryan and Marissa alone outside together. They stared at each other for an endless moment, then Marissa broke her gaze and went to sit on the stairwell.
Ryan opened his mouth and found he was helpless as to what to say. "I'm sorry," he said simply at length, his voice somewhat desperate and pleading even to his own ears. "I don't know what else to say."
Marissa's answer shocked him. "Don't be," she said tiredly. "If those feelings were in you, they were going to come out sooner or later. I just…" she lifted her shoulders helplessly. "I don't know what I can do. I don't have any excuses for the problem I had with alcohol. I can't defend my behavior. All I can do is stop drinking, and I have."
In the face of all this defeat, self-loathing, and resignation, Ryan realized he would have found her anger less frightening. "I know that," he said quickly, trying desperately to say anything to make this feeling that she was slipping out of his hands go away.
"No, you don't," Marissa returned simply. "You don't know that, and I don't blame you." She shook her head, a few stray tears sliding down her face. "I did this. First when I drank, and then when I was so eager to have you back I was all too willing to let this topic drop for fear you wouldn't come back to me if I talked about it too much. I didn't trust you any more than you trusted me, not to stay with me."
Slowly, Ryan sat down beside her, feeling anxiety and dread rise by the second. "I should have said something," he whispered, unable to raise his voice any higher. "You're right, I've never known if you were going to start drinking again or not, because I didn't say something or ask."
"I was the one who drank. I should have made it clear," Marissa muttered, looking anywhere but him. "God, does it even matter who should have said what? Neither one of us did. We've been so proud of ourselves for all the progress we've made in this relationship, and look at us. Look at this HUGE issue we ignored. And now…" she shrugged her shoulders miserably.
Ryan swallowed hard, clenching his fists so tightly his nails dug into his skin. "Now what? Now it's too late?" He felt like he was about to be sick.
Marissa sighed. "I don't mean it like that, Ryan. What you did tonight in and of itself…it's not that bad. Yeah, I would appreciate not being screamed at in public again, but I was probably worse two Christmases ago. But there are bigger issues here, and we can't just keep letting them go." She closed her eyes again and ran her fingers through her hair; she felt like she was being ripped apart. "I don't know what you need from me, Ryan. I don't know how to convince you I've really stopped drinking, or even if I can. I mean, would therapy help? AA meetings? Would anything help? No one is going to blame you if you can't trust me given your past, but…"
But if you can't trust me, this is never going to go anywhere.
She didn't say the words, but they hung heavily between them. Ryan scrubbed his fingers over his face, feeling a little defensive and more than a little overwhelmed. He didn't begin to have an answer to that question, but he felt like if he didn't give one he was going to lose her tonight, and he couldn't even let his mind go there. "I don't know," he said agitatedly. He saw that same look of resignation wash over her face, continued to feel as if the walls were closing in on them. "We can't fix this in one night, Marissa."
"I didn't say we could," Marissa protested. "I just…I just want to know if we can fix this at all." She took a deep, shuddering breath before forcing the next words out of her. Each word physically hurt to say. "Maybe it's not fair of me to expect you to be with someone who's abused alcohol."
"Oh God, don't do that," Ryan muttered, dropping his head and fighting back tears. "Don't break up with me and pretend it's for my own good."
"I'm not breaking up with you and I'm not pretending anything!" she insisted, the words coming out amidst hitching sobs. "Do you think it's easy for me to say something like that?"
"Then don't say it!" Ryan fired back. "Okay, there's this thing between us and we need to work it out, but don't act like leaving me is going to help me because it's not!" Tears stung his eyes and he looked away from her, feeling like a stupid little kid.
"Ryan…" Marissa said helplessly. "I'm not leaving you. I said I won't ever leave you and I meant it. I just…I wanted to let you know I wouldn't hate you if you felt like you had to leave ME."
"Well, I don't. So can we drop that subject?" he mumbled, still looking off in the opposite direction.
Marissa held up her hands appealingly. "Okay. Okay. No break up talk," she agreed, touched and saddened all at once to see how much the very idea was upsetting him. "So…what should we do?"
Ryan shrugged noncommittally; the talk about a break up appeared to have shut him down. Sighing, she tentatively reached out and stroked the back of his neck. He jumped at first, then relaxed somewhat under her touch. "I don't know," he admitted. "Do we have to figure it all out tonight? We know it's there. I promise I'll think about it more, but I don't have any answers now. I'll tell you when I do."
"That's fine," Marissa said quietly, still running her fingers through his hair.
Ryan looked at her warily. "We're not breaking up?" He had to hear it one more time, that if he left things like this tonight there'd still be a "them" to work out in the morning.
Marissa smiled somewhat sadly. "We're not breaking up," she confirmed. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home." She stood up and extended her hand to him; he looked up into her eyes before he took it. Slowly, they walked back to her car hand in hand, each unsure of what the next days to come would bring.