Disclaimer: I do not own Seth Cohen, nor any of the Newport he lives in. I have however created a few characters, you'll know then when you see them.

Warning: This story will eventually feature a theme of homosexuality, although there will never be any graphic sex scenes. Also Ryan will not be in this story. Consider yourself warned.

Finally; enjoy and leave a review.

Seth Cohen had spent a lot of time being called a queer. It seemed his days at school nearly revolved around it; he was a queer, therefore he was worthless, he was a nerd, he was unlikeable, and on any given day, his queerness warranted a slam against a locker, pee in his shoes, or an elbow in the stomach. But today they had something new. Fighting on school grounds was of course prohibited, it was punishable by suspension, and the water polo players simply weren't willing to risk it for the queer loser. But if no one saw it, was it a fight? If there was no bruises, no blood, did it happen?

Seth wasn't surprised when his shirt wrenched away from his body, pulling him along with it. His shirt held by three Water polo players. He tried to play it off. What point was life if you didn't enjoy it as least some of the time? And Seth had decided long ago, if making himself happy included sarcasm, making his own jokes and talking to a plastic horse that was fine.

The boys' locker room was deserted at lunch. Seth's voice spouting ironies bounced off the wall as his captors continued to march along.

They sat him down the bench, and opened the locker directly in front of him. It held four phone books.

"Planning on making some long distance calls?"

Then, Jay, another blond haired demon came from behind him, holding a steel baseball bat.

Seth swallowed heavily.

"And playing some baseball afterwards? I didn't think that was your sport?" He tried to keep his voice the same, even, sarcastic.

"Shut up queer."

They forced him down on the floor, it smelt like gym socks and sweat he noted bitterly to himself. Luke had one foot on the small of his back, keeping him down, while Jay piled phonebook, after phone book on his back in a nice little pile.

"Make sure he doesn't move." One of them said to another, as he raised the bat and his the phonebooks with all his might.

Seth felt his breath escape from his lips, as pain reverted around every part of his body. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't call out, he couldn't scream. He could just lay there.

As they chuckled to themselves, and passed the bat around.

He had given up squirming, he knew it would get him nowhere, just harder blows, he felt like his ribs must be smashed, his internal organs rupturing, his skin bruised black and blue.

He squeezed his eyes shut, it must be almost over, lunch must almost be finished.

The bell ringing felt like warmth rushing over his body, it felt like relief, as they threw the phone books and the bat back in the locker, and walked away.

"See ya Queer." one called back.

Seth just rolled over. He had never hurt so bad in his life. He stumbled to his feet, his hands were shaking, his eyes watery, his vision jumping.

He felt like crying, he felt like throwing himself off a bridge. Because they had a new game now, and it would happen again.

He stumbled to his locker, the pain abating slightly, his back still felt cold, dead and smashed. He picked up his skateboard, and walked out. No one would miss him, and he couldn't stay here one more minute.

He couldn't go home, he had nowhere else to go. So he did exactly what every other California teenager would do, he went to the beach.

He was lying in the abandoned sand, looking up at the sunny November sky, and listening to the gray cold waves beat up on the shore. When he heard something, it sounded like Death Cab. It sounded like 'Passenger Seat', he pushed himself up, his back muscles screaming. Walking across the beach, almost right in the surf, was a boy, headphones in his ears, and this boy was looking at him.

Seth was looking back at him. Almost with relief. This kid was not a water polo player, he didn't even go to Harbour. He was wearing converse shoes, he was wearing a shirt with a collar, his hair was in his eyes reached lankily down to his shoulders, and he was listening to Death Cab for Cutie. As he came closer, Seth could see the silver glinting off of him, in his eyebrow, and his lip.

Seth wasn't sure what was rumbling in his stomach. Whether it was broken ribs or attraction. He had never been attracted to a guy before, but honestly at Harbour he didn't have much of a selection. He liked Summer, even if she didn't like him back, because it was expected, because he could tell his Dad about it.

But this was different. His heart was pounding, he felt short of breath, and it was a good thing.

The guy walked over, sand sticking to his wet shoes.

"Hey." He flicked off his MP3 player. Seth struggled into a sitting position.

"Hey." He smiled, almost unintentionally.

"I.. Uh.. Never see anybody out here." The boy grinned, as if he was almost glad he had discovered Seth.

Seth shrugged. "Taking a slight break from school." He joked.

The boy lifted an metalled eyebrow.

"You go to Union?" Seth sometimes almost forgot Newport Union existed, Harbour seemed his entire existence, everyone he knew, all the same kids he had gone to private elementary school went to Harbour, all his neighbours in his gated little community, went to Harbour.

Sometimes he forgot that there were numbered streets, sometimes he forgot there was a public school seven blocks from the pier.

"Nah, I got to Harbour." Seth said this, his mouth forming words, yet all he could were this boys eyes, brown eyes, with flecks of gold and amber, they shook him. They determined, that this feeling in his stomach was not shattered ribs after all.

He extended his hand.
"Seth Cohen."

"Josh Campo." Josh reached out and shook his hand, smiling a little to himself, seating himself cross legged next to Seth.

"I didn't think guys who weren't Water polo players with shaved chests, and pick up trucks went to Harbour."

Seth was struck with the urge to talk to this kid, Josh. Seth talked a lot, but he didn't talk to anyone, to his parents he was just background noise, to the kids at school his voice, his words didn't mean anything.

Seth gestured down at himself. "Thus, the reason why I am not there right now."

Josh laughed to himself, looking down at the sand, running it through his fingers.

"You mean the Water polo players don't like you?" He mocked shock.

"Oh they like me, like to call me a queer, like to push me around, and most recently creating my most recent exodus, they like to." He paused, surprised at the fact that he was talking about these horrible things in his typical sarcastic banter, yet he was enjoying himself. "Pile phone books on my back, and hit me with a baseball bat."

Josh almost looked a little shocked for a moment, he looked up startled, meeting his eyes with Seth.

"You got phone booked? I didn't think those bastards had it in them."

"Phone booked?" Seth repeated. It sounded so strange, for such a weird activity to have a name other people would know. But then again, Josh was not a regular person.

"Those rich bastards must have been doing their research." Josh looked up, and Seth tried to portray that he was interested in what he had to say, that he was actually interested in this phenomenon of phone booking that was clearly spreading amoung water polo players everywhere.

Josh must have noticed. "It hurts like hell, and doesn't leave a mark. White supremacist came up with it, to beat up gays."

"Well how on target." Seth retorted, the words coming out of his mouth before he realized what it was that he was saying. What his words sounded like. It sounded like him admitting that he was gay. He hadn't meant it that way, he simply meant that the Water polo players thought he was. But was he? His brain suddenly went into overdrive. He had been pondering Josh's eyes for the last five minutes. He had been pondering Josh's eyes in a way that was not exactly heterosexual.

Oh god.

Seth was almost afraid to look up, god, Josh would think he was gay, and walk away.

Seth looked up, Josh was looking down, building piles of sand at his feet. He looked up as Seth did. His eyes almost knocking Seth over, as he smiled, more with his eyes than his mouth.

Seth smiled too. He had never felt this way before.

They both looked away. Seth returned his gaze back to the Ocean, watching the foam retreat as the next

wave hit.

"I've been phone booked too." Josh's voice was low, and little, but Seth heard it, and it meant all the difference, it was a confession of sorts.

Josh was chewing on his lip, the metal clicking off his teeth.

Seth twirled his hair with an absent hand.

Josh made a move to go.

"I should probably get back, get back for last period." He was already standing, brushing the sand off his baggy black pants. Seth could see him; look at him.

Seth smiled, he couldn't show that this meant anything to him, he couldn't show that he was sad that Josh was leaving, he had to be stealth.

"Yeah okay, I should probably go too." Harbour must get out earlier than Union he noted to himself as he looked diligently at his watch. Last period was already half over.

Josh was just about to walk away, having already taken a step, when he looked back.

"But I'll probably be here tomorrow."

Seth nodded, like it didn't matter, his heart jumping.

"Mkay."

Seth watched as Josh trudged through the sand, slowing getting further and further away, disappearing into the sand and the surf.

"Well fuck." He muttered to himself. He wasn't sure why, maybe it was because his muscles hurt like hell, that he had skipped out half a day at school, or perhaps most importantly, he liked a boy.

As Josh finally disappeared, Seth turned and walked away, walked the distance to his house, until his hands started shaking again from the pain growing in the small of his back and shooting up, spreading pain like wildfire. Yet somehow it wasn't as bad, it wasn't as bad as it had been before. Because Josh had been phone booked, because Josh hated water polo players, because Seth wasn't alone.