~Lies-5~
"Cohen! Do you have a death wish?!"
She leveled a glare at him he could feel a blast of heat from. "Summer, just simmer down now. Spontaneous combustion is not a myth, and I'd hate to see that sweet Barcalounger go up in flames."
"What the hell do you think you're doing, just walking in like that?!!"
Seth calmly strode across the room and sat down on the couch. "Are you close to a rage blackout, do you think? I read an article about curing a person of sleepwalking by videotaping their actions, and then showing it to them when they wake up. In theory, this should have the same results with your little problem. Do you have a camera handy? Maybe we can cure you. I'm helpful like that."
Through clenched teeth, she hissed at him. "Still. Waiting."
Seth glanced at her curiously. "For a blackout?" When her hands began to shake, he decided to back off. Maybe he could disarm her. "Oh, you mean why did I just waltz through your door? Not that I was waltzing. That's just for Cotillion although I must say I am pretty good at it. Well, here's the thing, Summer. You didn't answer your phones, and I knew if I waited politely on the porch for you to open the door, Armageddon would happen first. Not the movie, the Bible version, although the movie version would work in this case if you edited out the whole saving the world part. Obviously. And Good. Lord. Liv Tyler is hot. She reminds me of you. Or you remind me of her. So. Back to Armageddon. You want to know what my first clue was? Waking up. Alone. Which meant your brief but lovely cruise on the "I-need-to-talk!-even-Cohen-will-do-and-hey!-while-we're-here-let's-take-a- nap-together" ship had titanic-ed and you swam back to the island of "SethSucksAss". I don't know if you can swim, but I'm sure it was a short enough distance that you could wade. However, regardless of your, by the way, justified feelings about me right now, you and I need to discuss the problem between our respective best friends and decide a plan of action."
Summer clenched her fists and tried to decide if duct tape or SuperGlue was a better option for his mouth. Did she have either in the house? "Why doesn't a genius like you get that I don't want to SEE YOU? And by the way, have you noticed the epidemic of people passing out from boredom when you talk? The only thing keeping me awake is the fact that if I move I'll mess up my toenail polish."
"And we would have to declare a nation wide state of emergency, no doubt. But, my dear Summer, you weren't paying attention. I am aware you don't want to see me, which is why I gave you no choice in the matter. By walking into your house. Remember that? I did knock first, though."
"No, Seth, YOU weren't paying attention. I don't want to talk to you or see you and I mean about ANYTHING. That overrules any interest I had in deciding whether to rat out my best friend. I'm staying out of it. Do whatever you want. Now get out of my house."
Seth sat back on the couch and watched her thoughtfully. "Something's going on. Even an ice queen like you can't go from crying about it to not caring in a couple of hours' time. And I know you care about Marissa and Ryan because you were so upset you called ME and came over to talk about it. What's the story?"
Summer snapped and she sprang out of the chair. "GET OUT, Cohen! OUT!"
He obstinately shook his head at her. "Something's up. What is it?"
"FINE! Sit there then. I'll just go somewhere else!" She whirled around and headed through the kitchen for the stairs.
Seth was off the couch and right behind her in a flash. "Summer, you were all torn up about this. Why don't you want to be involved now?"
She stopped on a step and turned to face him, still shouting. "She's my best friend!"
Seth lost his temper. "Yeah, I know! YOUR best friend that's SCREWING around on MY best friend, and I know you think HE'S the best thing that ever HAPPENED to her!"
She stood a few steps above him and was as tall as him now. They were in each other's faces, so close a fraction of an inch movement would result in a kiss. "COHEN, I DONT WANT TO DEAL WITH THIS!"
"Why not! You did THIS MORNING!" She was so ridiculously stubborn it pissed him off to no end. He just had to fall for the feisty, challenging one, didn't he?
"I CHANGED MY MIND!" She burst into tears then. She didn't want to be there, anywhere in the world would be better than here, screaming at Seth and having the favor returned. Being near him and feeling so safe, so incredibly good in his arms today had ripped the lids off wounds she'd convinced herself were packed away in neat tidy boxes. She didn't want to look at him anymore; it hurt too badly. She refused to tell him that, though. She'd already made a complete fool of herself earlier. "You DON'T CARE WHAT I THINK ANYWAY!"
Normally Summer in tears would have him on an instant guilt trip, even if it wasn't his fault. His intense frustration with her and their own drama, plus the entire Marissa mess forced him far beyond that point. "IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK? I CARE A HELL OF A LOT, SUMMER! WHY DO THINK I WAS AT THAT PARTY ANYWAY? I went to find YOU and found YOUR BEST FRIEND getting LAID instead! I wish I'd never GONE now!"
"So tell me then, Seth, WHY DID you go? WHY were you looking for ME? I wasn't GOOD ENOUGH, you don't WANT ME and YOU DUMPED ME, REMEMBER?"
"DAMN IT, SUMMER! That ISN'T WHAT HAPPENED! I wanted -I made a HUGE MISTAKE, I should have picked YOU and I was looking for YOU TO ASK YOU FOR ANOTHER CHANCE!" There was silence as all the heated words cooled and settled around them. He continued very softly. "Begging and groveling were planned; on my knees a totally viable option." Summer's brown eyes were huge and still misty with tears as she stared at him. He'd done that. God, he'd made her cry. He couldn't believe he'd given Ryan shit about girls liking excessive violence. Because the way to a girl's heart was clearly by pissing her off with an unannounced appearance in her living room, following her when she's already mad at you, then screaming at her until you reduce her to tears. Yep. Gotta write THAT one down for the masses. He felt sick and wanted to cry now, too. His eyes were burning with the need.
Seth looked everywhere but at her. "Yeah. So - so that wasn't exactly how I wanted to start that conversation. But it's quite apparent what your answer would have been." He finally caught her eyes. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. And I hate that I made you cry." His hand went to her face and he wiped away a tear with his thumb. "I'm so sorry. I'm - I'm just gonna go."
He went down the stairs as if in slow motion and she watched until he turned a corner and was out of view. Summer heard the front door close, and she sat down on the step, dropping her head into her hands.
****
Seth once again found himself in the driveway not knowing what to do next. He still had no idea how to approach the Marissa situation, and he had a definite urge to avoid Ryan until he came up with something. Which sucked completely. Ryan had offered to listen if he wanted to talk, and Seth wanted nothing more than to unload his devastation and self-loathing regarding Summer on the only person he trusted with it.
Trust. Now there was a fitting word. He'd worked hard to gain his friend's trust and get the emotionally withdrawn guy to open up to him. Was he destroying the thing he valued most in the world, his brotherly bond with Ryan, by keeping quiet about what he'd seen? He would inevitably find out about his girlfriend at some point, if TV and movies were anything to consider as a source of information. Well, for that matter, this was Newport. Every day you heard about somebody doing someone else's wife or husband, somebody doing someone's wife AND husband, or somebody's dad doing their business partner. Ryan would definitely find out and then never speak to Seth again when he learned that his new "brother" knew all along and hadn't said anything.
But was he sure that was the right thing to do? Maybe Marissa had some wildly unimaginable good excuse. People got out of murder convictions by pleading temporary insanity, after all. It wasn't like she'd been making many sane decisions lately anyway. Not that insanity made it ok or was something he thought she'd use as a reason. Besides, she was sane enough to sneak out the back of the house after her copulation collaboration with Jake. If not insanity, could there be another GOOD explanation NOT in the vein of "Sorry Ryan, I fell and Jake caught me with his dick"?
And then there was Summer. Even Jesus and Moses couldn't help him now. He'd really screwed this up and coherent thought vanished as pain flooded him and spilled over, trickling down his cheeks. He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel and let it go.
When it subsided, he remembered the last time he'd cried. Really cried. He'd been, what? 8? 10? Luke and his ever-present goons had just knocked him around and called him names in front of everyone at recess. For the first time, he'd sat up from his position sprawled in the gravel, clothing torn, most of him bruised and bleeding, and looked around through his sobs.
**Usually he would keep his head down as he limped or staggered to the nurse's office, but not this time. Most of the kids were staring at him, smirking at his humiliation; others were ignoring him and most likely hadn't been interested enough in his beating to even watch. Their reactions confused him and hurt as much as Luke's fists, although he might have expected it. After all no one had ever tried to help him the other times this happened. But why? He had never done anything mean to any of them. It made him cry even harder. That was the first time he'd thought that he wasn't like them. He was different and that's why everyone hated him. As he continued scanning the playground, he came to a little girl sitting at the bottom of the slide. She hadn't turned away and wasn't smirking. She was the only one. Her hand was over her mouth and her brown eyes were sad and he thought he could see tears shining in them. She was looking right back at him. Her hand moved from her mouth to catch the long strands of dark hair the wind had scattered across her face. She pulled her hair back behind her ear and smiled at him. A sad little hesitant smile that was FOR him, not making fun of him. He hiccupped one last sob and stopped crying, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. He was right before. He wasn't like the other kids. He didn't want to be like them any more, either. They were all mean and he wanted to be like the brown-haired girl. Someone who was nice to a kid that was beat up and hurting inside too. He wanted to smile at her, but the Playground Supervisor grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet, blocking his view, then drug him along behind her to the nurse. He looked back over his shoulder, trying to see the little girl and smile back at her, but the slide was empty now.**
Seth's cell phone rang and startled him out of his memories.
****
"Cohen! Do you have a death wish?!"
She leveled a glare at him he could feel a blast of heat from. "Summer, just simmer down now. Spontaneous combustion is not a myth, and I'd hate to see that sweet Barcalounger go up in flames."
"What the hell do you think you're doing, just walking in like that?!!"
Seth calmly strode across the room and sat down on the couch. "Are you close to a rage blackout, do you think? I read an article about curing a person of sleepwalking by videotaping their actions, and then showing it to them when they wake up. In theory, this should have the same results with your little problem. Do you have a camera handy? Maybe we can cure you. I'm helpful like that."
Through clenched teeth, she hissed at him. "Still. Waiting."
Seth glanced at her curiously. "For a blackout?" When her hands began to shake, he decided to back off. Maybe he could disarm her. "Oh, you mean why did I just waltz through your door? Not that I was waltzing. That's just for Cotillion although I must say I am pretty good at it. Well, here's the thing, Summer. You didn't answer your phones, and I knew if I waited politely on the porch for you to open the door, Armageddon would happen first. Not the movie, the Bible version, although the movie version would work in this case if you edited out the whole saving the world part. Obviously. And Good. Lord. Liv Tyler is hot. She reminds me of you. Or you remind me of her. So. Back to Armageddon. You want to know what my first clue was? Waking up. Alone. Which meant your brief but lovely cruise on the "I-need-to-talk!-even-Cohen-will-do-and-hey!-while-we're-here-let's-take-a- nap-together" ship had titanic-ed and you swam back to the island of "SethSucksAss". I don't know if you can swim, but I'm sure it was a short enough distance that you could wade. However, regardless of your, by the way, justified feelings about me right now, you and I need to discuss the problem between our respective best friends and decide a plan of action."
Summer clenched her fists and tried to decide if duct tape or SuperGlue was a better option for his mouth. Did she have either in the house? "Why doesn't a genius like you get that I don't want to SEE YOU? And by the way, have you noticed the epidemic of people passing out from boredom when you talk? The only thing keeping me awake is the fact that if I move I'll mess up my toenail polish."
"And we would have to declare a nation wide state of emergency, no doubt. But, my dear Summer, you weren't paying attention. I am aware you don't want to see me, which is why I gave you no choice in the matter. By walking into your house. Remember that? I did knock first, though."
"No, Seth, YOU weren't paying attention. I don't want to talk to you or see you and I mean about ANYTHING. That overrules any interest I had in deciding whether to rat out my best friend. I'm staying out of it. Do whatever you want. Now get out of my house."
Seth sat back on the couch and watched her thoughtfully. "Something's going on. Even an ice queen like you can't go from crying about it to not caring in a couple of hours' time. And I know you care about Marissa and Ryan because you were so upset you called ME and came over to talk about it. What's the story?"
Summer snapped and she sprang out of the chair. "GET OUT, Cohen! OUT!"
He obstinately shook his head at her. "Something's up. What is it?"
"FINE! Sit there then. I'll just go somewhere else!" She whirled around and headed through the kitchen for the stairs.
Seth was off the couch and right behind her in a flash. "Summer, you were all torn up about this. Why don't you want to be involved now?"
She stopped on a step and turned to face him, still shouting. "She's my best friend!"
Seth lost his temper. "Yeah, I know! YOUR best friend that's SCREWING around on MY best friend, and I know you think HE'S the best thing that ever HAPPENED to her!"
She stood a few steps above him and was as tall as him now. They were in each other's faces, so close a fraction of an inch movement would result in a kiss. "COHEN, I DONT WANT TO DEAL WITH THIS!"
"Why not! You did THIS MORNING!" She was so ridiculously stubborn it pissed him off to no end. He just had to fall for the feisty, challenging one, didn't he?
"I CHANGED MY MIND!" She burst into tears then. She didn't want to be there, anywhere in the world would be better than here, screaming at Seth and having the favor returned. Being near him and feeling so safe, so incredibly good in his arms today had ripped the lids off wounds she'd convinced herself were packed away in neat tidy boxes. She didn't want to look at him anymore; it hurt too badly. She refused to tell him that, though. She'd already made a complete fool of herself earlier. "You DON'T CARE WHAT I THINK ANYWAY!"
Normally Summer in tears would have him on an instant guilt trip, even if it wasn't his fault. His intense frustration with her and their own drama, plus the entire Marissa mess forced him far beyond that point. "IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK? I CARE A HELL OF A LOT, SUMMER! WHY DO THINK I WAS AT THAT PARTY ANYWAY? I went to find YOU and found YOUR BEST FRIEND getting LAID instead! I wish I'd never GONE now!"
"So tell me then, Seth, WHY DID you go? WHY were you looking for ME? I wasn't GOOD ENOUGH, you don't WANT ME and YOU DUMPED ME, REMEMBER?"
"DAMN IT, SUMMER! That ISN'T WHAT HAPPENED! I wanted -I made a HUGE MISTAKE, I should have picked YOU and I was looking for YOU TO ASK YOU FOR ANOTHER CHANCE!" There was silence as all the heated words cooled and settled around them. He continued very softly. "Begging and groveling were planned; on my knees a totally viable option." Summer's brown eyes were huge and still misty with tears as she stared at him. He'd done that. God, he'd made her cry. He couldn't believe he'd given Ryan shit about girls liking excessive violence. Because the way to a girl's heart was clearly by pissing her off with an unannounced appearance in her living room, following her when she's already mad at you, then screaming at her until you reduce her to tears. Yep. Gotta write THAT one down for the masses. He felt sick and wanted to cry now, too. His eyes were burning with the need.
Seth looked everywhere but at her. "Yeah. So - so that wasn't exactly how I wanted to start that conversation. But it's quite apparent what your answer would have been." He finally caught her eyes. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. And I hate that I made you cry." His hand went to her face and he wiped away a tear with his thumb. "I'm so sorry. I'm - I'm just gonna go."
He went down the stairs as if in slow motion and she watched until he turned a corner and was out of view. Summer heard the front door close, and she sat down on the step, dropping her head into her hands.
****
Seth once again found himself in the driveway not knowing what to do next. He still had no idea how to approach the Marissa situation, and he had a definite urge to avoid Ryan until he came up with something. Which sucked completely. Ryan had offered to listen if he wanted to talk, and Seth wanted nothing more than to unload his devastation and self-loathing regarding Summer on the only person he trusted with it.
Trust. Now there was a fitting word. He'd worked hard to gain his friend's trust and get the emotionally withdrawn guy to open up to him. Was he destroying the thing he valued most in the world, his brotherly bond with Ryan, by keeping quiet about what he'd seen? He would inevitably find out about his girlfriend at some point, if TV and movies were anything to consider as a source of information. Well, for that matter, this was Newport. Every day you heard about somebody doing someone else's wife or husband, somebody doing someone's wife AND husband, or somebody's dad doing their business partner. Ryan would definitely find out and then never speak to Seth again when he learned that his new "brother" knew all along and hadn't said anything.
But was he sure that was the right thing to do? Maybe Marissa had some wildly unimaginable good excuse. People got out of murder convictions by pleading temporary insanity, after all. It wasn't like she'd been making many sane decisions lately anyway. Not that insanity made it ok or was something he thought she'd use as a reason. Besides, she was sane enough to sneak out the back of the house after her copulation collaboration with Jake. If not insanity, could there be another GOOD explanation NOT in the vein of "Sorry Ryan, I fell and Jake caught me with his dick"?
And then there was Summer. Even Jesus and Moses couldn't help him now. He'd really screwed this up and coherent thought vanished as pain flooded him and spilled over, trickling down his cheeks. He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel and let it go.
When it subsided, he remembered the last time he'd cried. Really cried. He'd been, what? 8? 10? Luke and his ever-present goons had just knocked him around and called him names in front of everyone at recess. For the first time, he'd sat up from his position sprawled in the gravel, clothing torn, most of him bruised and bleeding, and looked around through his sobs.
**Usually he would keep his head down as he limped or staggered to the nurse's office, but not this time. Most of the kids were staring at him, smirking at his humiliation; others were ignoring him and most likely hadn't been interested enough in his beating to even watch. Their reactions confused him and hurt as much as Luke's fists, although he might have expected it. After all no one had ever tried to help him the other times this happened. But why? He had never done anything mean to any of them. It made him cry even harder. That was the first time he'd thought that he wasn't like them. He was different and that's why everyone hated him. As he continued scanning the playground, he came to a little girl sitting at the bottom of the slide. She hadn't turned away and wasn't smirking. She was the only one. Her hand was over her mouth and her brown eyes were sad and he thought he could see tears shining in them. She was looking right back at him. Her hand moved from her mouth to catch the long strands of dark hair the wind had scattered across her face. She pulled her hair back behind her ear and smiled at him. A sad little hesitant smile that was FOR him, not making fun of him. He hiccupped one last sob and stopped crying, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. He was right before. He wasn't like the other kids. He didn't want to be like them any more, either. They were all mean and he wanted to be like the brown-haired girl. Someone who was nice to a kid that was beat up and hurting inside too. He wanted to smile at her, but the Playground Supervisor grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet, blocking his view, then drug him along behind her to the nurse. He looked back over his shoulder, trying to see the little girl and smile back at her, but the slide was empty now.**
Seth's cell phone rang and startled him out of his memories.
****