Chapter Thirty-One

Summer looked up at him, her smile gentle and reassuring as she touched his cheek with the tips of her fingers in the most affectionate gesture, "Seth," she whispered, her face mere inches away from his as she breathed in his fine scent, "We really need to talk about this- maturely," she added sternly. She cuddled into Seth's shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist loosely as she hugged him, "If you can hear me out-"

"I'm all ears," he replied to her, nodding so that she would continue.

"Listen, Cohen," she sighed, pulling away from the hug so that she could look him straight in his understanding face, "I don't want our wedding to be rushed- but I don't want you to think that I'm stalling or anything, because I'm not. I want it to be special- extremely special, because you're the man I chose," she smiled up at him softly, as she continued speaking words that were drained straight from her loving heart, "I love you so much, Seth." Her voice was fragile and placid, so that even the wind could not hear her.

"Summer, I still can't believe you're mine," he said with a grin, as he swooped down and stole a light kiss from her. Summer squirmed playfully, but soon she reunited their lips into a more passionate kiss, one that Seth was longing for since he had parted from the group. When the two pulled away from the kiss, Seth suggested that they return to the campfire to continue with their lazy evening.

Seth placed his arms around Summer's shoulder, pulling her closer to him as they walked side-by-side, back to where the fire's sparks and flames danced and blossomed with the wind. Marissa and Ryan greeted them with smiles, ones that were almost questioning whether the trespassers were at peace. Summer placed her head on Seth's shoulder, and with that Seth gave her a sweet kiss on her forehead.

"So things are all good between you two?" Ryan asked, already seeing that they were. He adjusted his arm carefully around Marissa, pulling her closer as he did.

"When weren't they good?" Seth replied, grinning at Summer, "Cause from what I remember, things were always perfect," Seth's triumphant voice made Summer giggle.

"Mmm, yes things are good between us," she replied more seriously, as she and Seth seated themselves on a blanket that covered the golden sand, "So what have you two lovebirds been doing?" Summer raised an eyebrow inquisitively, laughing under her breath lightly.

"Just talking," Marissa giggled, as she turned to Ryan, who winked at her lightly, "Just talking, Sum," Marissa replied to her witty stare.

"Mhmm," she muttered, laughing.

"So what have you two decided? When's the wedding?" Marissa asked, on a light and casual tone.

"Well," Seth started, unsure of what to say. Although he talked with Summer, and bettered their affliction, they stillhad not decided that.

"We're getting married," Summer said, pressing her lips together, as she looked over at Seth. Her eyes were frightened, but absolutely certain. She took a deep breath, and repeated herself more confidently, "Seth and I have decided we're getting married," she said, as her smile elongated itself into a genuine grin- one that overshadowed not only peace of mind, but an honest treasure; happiness.

Seth looked over at her, wondering if the words she spoke were true. He then managed to stifle a laugh, as he pulled her into a deep and fond kiss that released all his worries, and fears. Marissa and Ryan laughed, "You guys are seriously getting married?" Marissa asked, awed by the situation. When they pulled away from the kiss, they both nodded vigorously.

"Nothing's stopping us now," Summer grinned wildly, a smile that portrayed all the love that rendered her body so lovesick for Seth Cohen, "I'm marrying Cohen!" she said excitedly, as she slid her hand into his, gripping it tightly.

"I'm marrying Summer Roberts!" Seth called out with equal excitement, pulling Summer into another kiss. They pulled away, when they heard a car door closing, and a set of faint footsteps nearing. Summer looked over her shoulder, and almost gasped. Ryan got up protectively.

"Hey hey hey," a familiar, searing voice almost seemed to cool even the fire with the shrilling connotation it brought with it, "No need to raise the defenses- just figured my bro would be here," Tray emerged from the splitting darkness, as the fire illuminated his face into a golden-red. Ryan approached him, his lips a mere sliver for the anxiety and anger he held within him, "What's up, Bro?" Tray said lightly. He made it seem as though he had forgotten everything he had done. He made it seem as though he expected a hardy welcome, after he tried to rape Marissa Cooper, and shoot Seth Cohen.

"What do you want." Ryan muttered, refusing to shake his brother's extended hand, "Don't you think you've done enough?" He proceeded to say.

"I'm just here to say hello," he said, as he raised the palm of his hand into a curious wave, "Cause I was passing through the neighbourhood, and you know, figured couldn't not say hi to my baby brother," his voice was almost mocking, and tempting Ryan to make the first punch. The smirk on his face almost called out- Try me, buddy. I'm loaded.

"Seriously Tray, what the hell do you want?" Ryan said, his voice hinting aggravation, and intolerance.

"Whoa, Ryan. Is that any way to treat your brother?" he continued to speak.

"What do you want?" Ryan pressed, his rage started to fume out of his body.

"Just wanted to see how Sethy ol' man was doing, after you know, the shooting?" Tray said, turning his head toward Seth contemptuously.

"Seth's fine." Ryan said, "You can leave now,"

"And have no fun? Please," Tray replied, his voice showing equal annoyance, "Now Ryan, I guess you know me better than I know myself, cause I actually do want something," he laughed morosely, "I don't know if you remember, Ryan, but I do," he smirked, "I recall this one evening, after I almost raped your whore over there," he was treating all this as a joke, one crazed and taunting joke, "And after she told you, and after I almost killed her with my knife. I was hit with something on the head, and my, my, my. I wonder who hit me? Was it you baby bro? Well your stupid brother over here," he said, referring to himself coldly, "decided to remember that piece of information, in case he needed money. And guess what? I need money now, so fess up bad boy. We can deal with this on the side, or with the law- eitherway, I'll get my share," Tray chuckled, wondering if Ryan and Marissa let the memory of that night slip.

Ryan, however, remembered it clearly. He remembered the urgency, the desperation, the fear when Jess arrived unattended, the force with which he hit his own brother with that convenient rock. The newspaper that was published the day after, the fear that had settled within them, only to be forgotten, and then mustered back from deep within them.

"You have no proof," Marissa said, getting up from her edgy seat on the sand.

"Marissa, sit down." Ryan said gravely, warning her not to interfere.

"Yeah, whore. Sit down," Tray said with a fleeting smirk.

"Tray, how much do you want?" Ryan then asked with a harsh mutter, wanting the situation to be over without endangering his friends.

"Well, I can be nice and say fifty thousand dollars for my own pain and suffering, and the various medical bills-" Ryan cut him off, right then and there.

"You wouldn't get that much in any right minded court," Ryan gulped, as he continued to glower at his brother.

"I beg to differ, Ryan. You attacked me, and left there almost dead," Tray shrugged his shoulders, as he continued to muse, "That counts for a lot of mullah, brother. As I was saying, I could be nice and charge fifty smack, but I feel kind of rowdy, and in trouble so I say seventy-five on the dot is fine. You can make it out to Tray Atwood," he said, pocketing his hands, as he turned to leave, "Oh, and don't worry Ryan. I'll be back tomorrow. The money better be ready, or I'll just have to, well," he shrugged, "I don't think you want to see what I have up my sleeve."

And so with that, as abruptly as he had made his entrance, he was now leaving. His extensive visit left the four utterly speechless.

"Ryan, what are we going to do?" Marissa whimpered quietly, as she started to fumble with her fingers.

"You're not doing anything," Ryan said austerely, as he sat back down beside her.

"It's as muchmy fault,as it is yours," Marissa growled, "You're not going to be my hero every time Ryan. I'm not going to let you," she continued to say, angered by the fact that Ryan wanted to push her out of the situation, "Are we going to pay it?"

"You're not paying anything," Ryan said, ignoring the word that Marissa had said moments ago.

"Neither are you!" Marissa said, her voice high-pitched with disbelief.

"And what? Have another shooting? Another rape? What, Marissa, what?" Ryan's rage and unease was pouring out with every word he said, "I can't have something like that on my conscience. I'd rather deal with him, and get on with my life,"

"Or you can ask my dad," Seth cut in, not liking the fact that Ryan and Marissa were fighting so gruelingly, "But first of all, you guys have to stick together if you're going to get through this." Seth said, his voice wise and unfaltering.

"He's right Ryan," Marissa whispered, ashamed at how quickly she erupted, "I'm not going to let you deal with this alone," she continued, looking at his indifferent face. A permanent silence dwelled among them, until they left the beach with strained hearts, and worried minds. The only exercise their vocal cords had to endure, was at the front door when Kirsten greeted them at the Cohen Residence, completely oblivious to the situation they were now drowning in under the merciless grasp of Tray Atwood.