Chapter 2

"She's a disease, Ryan." I tried to explain to him, but of course he had no idea what I was saying. "You try to get rid of her, but you know that in the back of your head that she will never go away. Ever."

"What makes you think that?"

"You keep telling me about how Marissa is hanging out with Johnny and how much you hate this guys guts and that you want Marissa to make up her mind. All I'm saying, in my opinion, is that she's like the itch that you're never going to stop scratching, you know it's there and you know it feels so good to just itch it…the disease that just won't disappear completely. No matter what, she's there. And she's never going to go away."

We pulled up to the house and Ryan stopped the car.

Ryan shook his head. "An itch? A disease? I'm not telling you that I want to break up with Marissa. All I'm saying is…" He sighed and it was obvious he was totally confused. "I really don't know what I'm trying to say, really. I'm just sick and tired of Johnny."

"Forget him then." We got out of the SUV and made our way back to the poolhouse. "Forget everything, Ryan. This is our final year at Harbor. Let's embrace it! Let's have fun!" I could so use a joint right now.

Ryan frowned. "Embrace…Fun?"

I flopped down on his bed and threw a pillow at him. He was not happy. He threw it back at me.

"Yes, fun. You know, it's what people do to forget about everything. Let's have some fun."

"We're not watching anime or playing any videogame. I'm in no mood for any of that right now."

I opened my back pack and took out a baggy of weed and shook it. "Come on, Ry. Smoke a little. Have some fun."

"I thought you said you were done with that. And did you tell Summer about Brown yet?"

Oh God. Summer. She was royally pissed at me this morning for showing up late for the history exam and told me to call her later tonight.

"No I haven't and yes, I said I was over with this…" I waved the weed in his face. "But it helps me."

"Yeah, Seth. I'm sure it does. It helps you lose a few brain cells too."

"I'm smart anyway; I can afford to lose some." I took a joint out. "You'll like it."

"Seth, I've had weed before." He laughed at me.

"Right, of course you have. You're from Chino." I laughed. "And I am the only late bloomer you will ever meet. Humor me and split this joint with me."

Ryan sighed and looked outside the poolhouse' window.

"So, that's a yes?"

"We smoke in my bathroom. And just this once."

I giddily ran into the bathroom and started lighting the joint.

"Wait…" Ryan stopped me. He closed the door behind him and grabbed a towel off his rack to cover up the door. "Ever had a Jamaican shower?"

"Why? Do we shower differently than them?"

Ryan laughed and I felt like a total idiot.

"No. Here." He turned on the shower. "You have to make sure the shower is hot. It's going to make a lot of steam. We also have to block the vent. Take off your sweater."

"Um…"

"Trust me."

I took off my sweater and handed it to him. He then took off the vent, shoving my sweater in it and then closed it back up again.

It was getting hot in the bathroom already.

"You can light it now." Ryan said.

I lit the joint, taking a big puff and then handed it to him. Holy crap, I was starting to sweat like crazy. Ryan took a few tokes and handed the joint back to me and then rolled up his sleeves.

"It's freaking hot in here!" I said.

"That's the whole point, Seth."

I handed the joint back to Ryan and took a seat on top of the counter.

Ryan closed his eyes as he took a puff of the joint and exhaled slowly. "It's been awhile since I smoked a joint." He told me. "I used to smoke all the time with Trey and his buddies."

"Why don't you anymore?" I asked him.

Ryan shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it kind of interfered with everything." He took another drag and passed it to me. "Once you smoke pot and drink a fifty, you're an Atwood…That's what Trey always told me. I guess I just didn't want to be an Atwood anymore."

"Makes sense." I don't think I've ever heard Ryan really talk about his family before. Sure, he mentioned them from time to time, but he never really talked about them. In some ways, I wanted to know more about him. I've never known someone who was so interesting like him before. He wasn't a Newpsie.

Ryan laughed, "Pass it over."

I passed it to over him, and started to feel really light headed. I closed my eyes for a split second and the next thing I know, Ryan opened the door to the bathroom and left. I took another toke of the joint and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, Ryan was there and the bathroom door was closed.

Ryan laughed, "Pass it over."

"Déjà vu!" I laughed and jumped off the counter, passing it back to him.

"Want anymore?" He offered.

"Nah, you finish it. I've got the best high going on right now." I laughed. Ryan finished the joint and I opened the door.

We both crashed on his bed and started laughing.

"Jamaican showers are fun. Maybe I should hook up with a Jamaican girl. But then again, they don't shave…anything."

Ryan laughed. "That and Summer will kill you."

I did not want to think about Summer right now. Summer makes me think of Brown. Brown makes me think of…Well, life in general and how much I've fucked myself over so far.

"I wonder if your dad still has his bong from college." Ryan asked.

I laughed at him. "I thought you said this was only going to be a one time only relaxing kind of thing?"

He shrugged and rolled off the bed. "Who's going to teach anything about smoking pot?" He did have a point there. "And you have to promise me to leave the pot to the weekends only, okay?"

I looked passed him and at a painting that was hung on the poolhouse wall. I remember the day my mom had brought it home. She said it reminded her of the time she had spent in New York with my dad. I bet they smoked pot the whole entire time there, 'cause that was a real fucked up painting.

"Seth…Space cadet?" Ryan yelled at me.

"Huh?"

"Weekend only, K?"

I waved him off. "Yeah, yeah." I laughed and walked over to the painting and took a close look at it. The colors were closely blended, especially the smoggy sun rise in the background. I took my finger and traced the horizon. "I've never really looked carefully at this painting before now."

Ryan walked up to me and looked at it. "What's so great about it?"

"Nothing. It's just peaceful and beautiful."

He laughed. "It's New York. Go there and tell me that it's peaceful."

"How would you know? You've never been there."

"Neither have you." He shot back at me.

I laughed and walked away from the painting. I had the sudden urge to make a painting myself. I grabbed my school bag, "I've got some stuff to do." I said and left.

I put down my black brush, sat back in my chair and admired the drawing in front of me. It was a painting of Summer and I sitting on the beach watching the waves crash in on the shore. Our bodies entwined in each others grip. A grip that I hope will never seize.

There was a knock at my door and my dad walked in.

"Hey Seth." He said, strolling in. I have no privacy these days.

I turned my back from the painting, "What's up?"

"Dinner's in five minutes."

"Okay, thanks." I swiveled back to my painting, but my dad wasn't leaving. "Anything else?" I asked, impatiently.

He sat on my bed and picked up Captain Oats. "You used to carry this horse around everywhere." He said, laughing. "You even took bubble baths with him."

"Dad, thanks for reminding." Another mental picutre I will never forget.

This father son thing going on here was started to creep me out. "Is there…anything else?" I asked him.

"Your guidance counselor called me today, Seth."

I hesitated, "Oh." I said nodding. "Good things, I'm assuming?"

My dad put Captain Oats back down on my night table. "She wanted to know where you were for the Brown interview."

"Yeah…That." I scratched the back of my neck and sighed.

"Is it you don't want to go to Brown anymore, Seth? You know, you can get into Berkley if you still want to. Just give me the go and it's set, son."

"No. No, it's not that, Dad."

"Then why didn't you go to your Brown interview? I thought you were so happy to get that interview. You stayed up practically all night for three days pumping yourself up for it."

I can't explain myself to him. Even if I were to try to, I wouldn't even be able to get the words out myself. I don't know what I want to do anymore.

I shrugged. "I'll go see my guidance counselor tomorrow and I'll talk to her, okay? I'll figure it out then."

"Is everything okay? Is it that you don't want to do the whole college thing anymore?" He pressed.

"No, it's not that dad." I stood up and opened my door. "I've got some homework to do." I lied.

"Promise me you'll talk to your guidance counselor. Time is running out."

"Yeah, yeah." I rushed him out and shut the door behind him. I sighed and walked over to my desk. I opened my drawer and pulled out a joint, while looking at my painting.