A/N: I really apologize if this sucks. I haven't written anything in months so this probably isn't my greatest. This is sort of like a follow-up sequel thing to my other fic, Elsewhere, so read that if you haven't. It could help you understand this more. Or not. You know. Nothing that happens in season three has ever happened. This is kind of my own little O.C. universe. But whatever.
And I'm probably going to writea third follow up for this. I didn't put them all together as one story because they just don't seem right to be put together. I think they should be on their own.
Heat
August. August meant endless days at the beach, flowery bikinis, the creamy fragrance of suntan lotion lingering everywhere you go. The challenge of trying to keep your melting cherry Popsicle from sliding offits stick. Splashing in the ocean, getting sick from swallowing too much salt water. Riding around in your car, top down, your hair swept up in a high ponytail as an attempt to keep yourself cool (it didn't work).Stereo blasting. Never going anywhere. You'd just get into your car and drive somewhere. With him. You would each take turns at the wheel. Taking turns to be in control.
Saturday. The sun rests in the sky, spending it's last few moments of the day watching over the seashore. It's incredibly hot and you were hoping he would come out and go for a swim with you. Maybe go out for some ice cream. By this time he always says yes to you. It seems so normal that it's almost as if you two had been doing everything together your whole lives.
(Sometimes you'd look at him and wish you had been, but then he would ruin it by blurting out some stupid remark about comic books.)
You couldn't call him your friend, though. Sure, you'd been spending the whole summer going to concerts and parties or maybe just the beach together, but there was something missing, something you couldn't distinguish, but that something held you back from calling him your friend. You weren't sure what he was to you. Yet, at least.
Maybe it was because Ryan wasn't around anymore. Or Summer. Their absence made things strange, at first. Seth's thing with Summer was complicated. The last time you spoke to her she was in an airport on her cell phone, and she told you she was going to look for her mother. She'd said her father had given her the address, and bought her a plane ticket, so now she was on her way to Colorado. But that was last month, so by now she should have found her.
And Ryan, well…you weren't sure. You stopped leaving messages on his voicemail when you realized he wasn't coming or calling back. Yet, at least.
Blue. You enter Seth's room after being let in and all you can see is blue, blue, blue on his walls and by this time you're so desperate for a swim that you swear you would've swam in his room if it were physically possible. You realize that what you just thought sounds really, really stupid, but that's what happens to you when the heat of summer takes over.
Hey you, you say. Cheerfully. Your smile goes away when you notice how he's sitting - at the edge of the bed with his phone hanging dead in his hands, his face completely blank. Not even looking at you.
Seth…? What is it? You ask. What happened?
It's Summer, he says - you still can't read his expression, She's back.
You feel a knife in your stomach and you feel as if you're about to fall over.
Oh… you reply. Your voice barely audible.
He looks up. She found her mom. She had cancer. She died a few days ago.
That's… you look for a word. Awful. Poor Summer.
He sighs. Reaches up. Runs a hand through his hair. She wants me to go to the funeral with her.
Now you are certain you're going to fall over. So you're…going?
He stares at the carpet. His eyes never meeting yours. I have to. She really needs me.
Yeah, well, you really need him, too.
Or maybe she just wants you. You didn't mean to say it. But you'd said it anyway. What I mean is...she's taking you back? After dumping you?
I don't know. Maybe. It could just be a friend thing.
You swallow. Well if it were a friend thing, then why did she phone you rather than me? Because I'm her best friend, in case you happened to forget.
Finally. He looks up. Doesn't say anything. Neither of you do.
You should go, you tell him after a moment, and wish you hadn't. Summer needs you.
He stands up. Walks over to you. You feel his hands graze your waist. Thanks, Marissa. For understanding. And everything. You know.
Although it's pretty much nothing his touch burns through your tank top, and you can't take it so you take a few steps back, away from him. Whatever. I mean, I should've remembered that eventually, Summer would come back to you. She always does. I should go, Seth. Tell her I send her my condolences.
You leave. Once in your car, you pull out of the driveway. Top down. You remove the clip holding your hair up and it tumbles down, gathers around your shoulders. Catches in a hint of the breeze that hadn't been around earlier. Driving past the beach, you consider going for the swim you'd planned. By yourself. Without Seth. It would be different. And not very fun. You've gotten so used to being with him that you don't even know what it feels like doing stuff alone anymore.
The sky is streaked with the cotton candy he'd shared with you at the carnival last week. You can see the beach from where you are. You decide not to go, and turn your car around to drive back home. The water must be cold by now, anyway.
