As things change
Disclaimer: I don't own The O.C.
Looking at the old photographs in the worn page-yellowed book brought back from my other life. My other life was the best year of my life, my life with the Cohen family. I spent that one year in their pool house, living the life of the rich in Newport Beach, California.
These were the pictures of the best year of my life.
On the cover it was a dark green with worn edges, from years either sitting in a box or on a shelf. In the various places I called home over the past five years.
The first pictures was one of Seth and I at the Debutante ball, one of the things rich people do. Seth was my real brother, he wasn't like Trey at all.
On the next page it was one of Seth and I on the first day of school. When I was enrolled at one of the best private schools in the country, Harbor. I sometimes miss that place of teenagers with rich parents who didn't care and teachers who didn't seem to teach. That was probably the best school I ever went to in my life. It was so much different than Chino High.
I turned the page and unstuck the corners of the yellowed page it have a few photos from Seth's made-up holiday 'Christmukkah'. Their was one of Sandy, Kirsten, Seth and Me, we all looked so happy, like on Newport Beach family. One that I could never really belong to, I was an Atwood not a Cohen.
The next pages were mostly of Seth and I at the beach. When we went sailing, or when I was trying to help Seth get Summer.
There was the photos that I knew would be there and that I may not be able to handle. The ones of Marissa and I. Marissa, she was my first real girlfriend. We went through everything together: her dad, her parents' divorce, her drinking, her mom, Oliver and school.
Everything.
Everything, except Theresa. If it hadn't been for Theresa and I, I would probably not be here in Chino with no life and nothing to look forward to. I would still be in Newport Beach with the Cohen's, making a better life for myself.
More of the pages of the photo album were full of pictures form various parties the Cohens had had over the year. I didn't at the time even know who or what they were for. Now I still don't know who they were for.
I wasn't ever going to belong to a family. I thought that I could be a Cohen, I couldn't; I was an Atwood and always would be one.