"Seasons Change"

By Sister Rose

Rated R

The characters of "The O.C." belong to Fox, and no infringement of those rights is intended in this fictional work.

Chapter Nine

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"It was a mistake not to get his phone number," Summer told Seth over the telephone. She was stretched out on her bed on her tummy, toes kicking in the air behind her while the purple moss polish dried. "Maybe I should call and make that dragon queen give me his address."

"Do you think she'll do that for you?" Seth said.

"No, but threatening her again would make me feel better."

"Summer, it's only been two days. And you know where he's going to college, so you can track him through Luke if you need to. I don't want to see you lose your eyeballs to a street-tough Chino harpy."

"She wasn't that bad."

"You just called her a dragon queen. I interpret that as not accommodating. Maybe I'm wrong."

"About so many things, Seth, most of which we don't have time to get into today."

"That's cruel, Summer, needlessly unkind."
"Sorry."

"I understand you're testy because you gave up your virginity to a man who hasn't called back."

"A) It wasn't my virginity, not that that's any of your business, and B) how totally lame is it to be worrying about him not calling back. I mean, last time the sex wasn't good enough, he didn't just not call, he left town."

There was a long pause. Summer could hear Seth breathing on the other end, but no words were coming out. That probably meant she had shocked him. She couldn't think of any other reason for his mouth not to be running. That or he had fallen over dead.

"Hello," she said. "Are you still there?"

"Still here," he said. "Reeling a bit from the intensity of personal information and insecurity revealed in that last comment, but still here. And now that I've recovered a bit, here's a thought for you: I don't think it was the badness of the sex in the past that made him leave town last time; maybe it was the goodness of it. Maybe it scared him off.

"Also," Seth went on, "technically and specifically, you are not the only person Atwood left behind."

Oops. Summer had forgotten for a moment that not everything was about her. But Seth was still talking."

"Think about that for a minute," he said, "and then fulfill my fantasies by telling me more about the badness or goodness of the current sex."

"Still on the none-of-your-business end of the question spectrum, not to mention the if-you-try-to-take-my-boyfriend-I-will-kill-you end of it, but I will tell you it was the best sex I've had since the last time I had sex with Atwood."

"Wow," Seth said. "So do you think you'll get to have it ever again or are you doomed to live life remembering just the single occasion?"

"Wasn't I nice to you when you were certain Luke wasn't coming back? Wasn't I supportive then? What have I done to merit this meanness now? Nothing, that's what."

"Probably not," Seth said. "But it's totally amusing to those of us on the outside looking in."

"I dislike you so much right now that I'm hanging up," Summer told him before she did just that. In lieu of Seth, she gave the phone a good glare. It rang, and she jumped before picking it up. Objects being glared at should not talk back.

"Seth, I told you I'm through talking to you," she said, lifting the receiver to her ear without bothering to check the ID.

"Um. Hi. It's me, not Seth," a voice said.

Summer glanced at the caller ID display. "Unknown" was calling her.

"Atwood?"

"Um, yeah," he said. "I'm a couple of blocks away. Could I come over to talk?"

"Yes," she said, stifling her joy so it wouldn't leak through the phone and scare him off. "I'll unlock the front door."

She hung up the phone and boogied down the hall toward the front door to unlock it. She checked a mirror. Frightful! She dived for the bathroom to brush her teeth and fluff her hair.

The doorbell rang while she was dabbing hair gel at her temples. Atwood, of course. Even though she had said she would leave the front door open. She checked her clothes once more in the full-length mirror, smoothing down her capris before bolting to the front door.

She threw the door open, and the day became better.

"Atwood," she said brightly. "Come in."

She watched Atwood's firm body amble into her life again, brushing past her and setting her body tingling. Her nose filled with his nutmeg Atwood smell and started her libido racing. She hoped, hoped, hoped he wanted to have sex again. Really soon.

She watched him dither. It was so cute. She took pity on him.

"Come sit down in the living room," she said, fairly certain he could handle that.

He could. He picked the green wing chair of two nights before and slumped down into it.

"Long day?" she said, taking a seat on arm of the sofa of two nights before. So far, everything was on target for a repeat of two nights before. She squiggled her purple moss toes in anticipation of toe-curling sex.

"Yeah," Atwood said. Summer watched him gather his thoughts and brace himself to speak.

"Summer," he said. "I wanted to talk to you about something that's hard to talk about."

Summer leaned closer toward him, sniffing for the nutmeg.

"OK," she agreed.

"I don't know how to start," he said.

"Just start," she said. "I'll even be quiet."

He paused and looked up at her. His eyes were tired, and there was wariness in the way he was holding his head. Summer felt a sharp stab near her throat. No, please no. He was going to dump her again. No.

Please.

No.

Atwood opened his mouth.

Summer's breath caught.

"Summer," Atwood said. "I know where Seth's dad is."