"Just do it, Coop," said Summer, fixing up Marissa's pillows. "You might as well just do it already."

"It's too late," said Marissa. "I should really do it in the morning."

"I don't understand. One minute, you're about to call Ryan and talk to him. Next thing I know, we're standing here making your bed," said Summer.

"Look, it's complicated. I have to tell him at the right time, Sum," she replied.

"Well, the longer you wait, the harder it's gonna be to find the right time."

"Sum, I'm not gonna talk about this with you right now," she said, laughing.

"Well, you're gonna have to… was that a laugh? Marissa?"

"What's going on?" asked Julie as she popped her head in the room.

"Marissa was just about to call Ryan," said Summer as she grabbed the phone out of the jack and held it before Marissa.

"Oh, Marissa, are you sure?" asked Julie uneasily, immediately catching the attention of Summer and Marissa.

"Is there something wrong, Mrs. Cooper?"

"I don't think now is the best time to call Ryan."

"Why?" asked Marissa. "What's going on?"

"The Cohen's left a message. Trey woke up."

Summer stared at the pain being displayed on Marissa's eyes. Marissa just sat on her bed, curled up on her bed, refusing to move.

"Coop, come one. We can get through this. We will get through this. I promise."

"Yeah. The cops will probably be here by the end of tonight."

"You're not going to go to jail, Marissa," she assured.

"How can you be sure of that?" she asked sadly.

"Because if you tell them the truth---"

"Yeah. The truth."

"Look, Coop, I know it's hard---"

"You don't know anything!" she hissed. "Look, I appreciate your effort, but no one can dare tell me how they understand and how I have to do it. The best thing people could do is give me space."

"Coop, I'm sor---"

"Don't be sorry," she said. "Just let me take this my own way. Make sure you – and your boyfriend – stay out of it. I already have enough pressure."

Summer looked at her, disheartened by the terrible situation that seemed to be tearing Marissa apart from everyone and everything around her. She reluctantly got up and left the room, feeling bad to leave her friend behind in such a situation but feeling worse to sit there and make things worse. She ran out of the house, confused about how she really felt. And it was quite clear that how she felt over the summer had been insolently ignored.

Ryan lay down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. In other words, he was brooding. And in the midst of a deep session, Seth opened the door. He stood there, upset, looking at Ryan. In trying to break the silence, Seth finally spoke.

"Hey, man," he said. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Good, good. I figured the whole situation might have you worried."

"I'm fine."

"Well, if you want to talk, I'm here," he said gently before getting up and walking to the door.

"Seth?" Ryan said before Seth could leave the room. Seth stopped.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." Seth nodded at him and was once again about to walk out until he stopped at the door and turned around to face Ryan.

"Oh, and hey man, I'm sorry about this morning," he said.

"It's cool. But, when this is all over, I think you owe an apology to Marissa. If it's ever over," he said. Seth nodded back before leaving the room. Ryan stared at the door for a moment before lying back down.

As Seth walked towards the kitchen, Kirsten breezed by him on her way to see Ryan.

"Oh, hey sweetie. How are you?" she asked with a genuine smile on her face.

"You know, good," he replied insipidly.

"Ryan seems okay?" she said.

"Yeah. I mean, under the circumstances."

"Oh," she replied. "Seth, I was just wondering. Maybe you and---"

"Look, Mom, I'm sorry to cut this conversation short, but I really have to call Summer right now. But I'll see you around, okay?" He patted her on the shoulder and sped away. Kirsten stood there, her genuine smile now just an evident fake of one.

Sandy sat down at a table for two in a fancy restaurant full of wealthy businessmen and women almost completely exposed. As he checked his watch, a tall man wearing a flashy suit walked in and sat down in the seat next to him.

"It's been a while, Sandy," said the man.

"Otis," he replied. "How are you?"

"Well, I'm fine. And yourself?"

Sandy just stared at him without saying a word. Otis dropped the smile he originally carried along with him.

"Right. Of course. Well, I'm afraid to say that I come with some… what you might call bad news. Listen, Sandy, I've known you a long time. You say it was her who did it, I believe you. But no one else is buying it. I mean, troubled kid from the wrong side of the tracks. His brother tries to rape his girlfriend. More likely to be him. At least that's what they think."

"And what do you think?" asked Sandy.

"I think I can take your word… but that doesn't change anything. D.D.A. Costello will be at your house tomorrow morning with some questions for both of your boys."

"Tomorrow morning? Don't you think tomorrow morning is a little sudden?" he asked nervously.

"Look, if the story Ryan has to tell is true, then you have nothing to worry about," he insisted.

"Nothing to worry about? You gotta be kidding? We got two kids with not such great histories here, one of them our son and the other his girlfriend. This is a lose-lose situation for everyone. Come on, Otis, you have to help us out. You gotta make an exception here," he begged.

"Sorry, Sandy, but I make justice, not exceptions."

And with that, he took off, leaving Sandy worried, afraid, and completely sure that Ryan would lose this case.

Jimmy sat by the phone in his office and stared at the Caller ID as it continuously rang. Finally, after a minute of waiting, he picked it up.

"Hello?" he said into the phone apathetically.

"Jimmy, I'm getting worried. It's been a month. A month, Jimmy!" screamed the man on the other end.

"Come on, Jack. You know I'm in a bind right now." Jimmy scoffed. "To think you'd be just little more lenient," he said.

"To think you'd be a little less aggressive to me… you know, considering I did lend you about… how much was it? Twenty-thousand dollars?"

"Look, I'm sorry. But with everything that's been going on with Marissa, I can't right now. I'm sorry."

"Yeah. You say that now. But when this all blows over… for better or for worse… we both know I'm not gonna get that money back, don't we?"

"That's not true," he insisted.

"Look, Jimmy, you've been my friend for a long time, but after what happened with Greg two years ago, I wasn't so sure you'd pay me back. But you were in trouble, Jimmy, and I was your friend. So I lent you the money. I figured you'd have the common courtesy of paying it back."

"Who's to say I won't?" Jimmy asked you.

"I can think of a lot of people. Starting with Greg."

"Look, you can hold that against me all you want, Jack, but either I will pay you back or I won't. All I can do is tell you that I will. And if you don't believe that, then I guess there's nothing you can do."

"No, see that's where you're wrong. There are a lot of things I can do," he began. "It's just a matter of whether or not I'm going to go through with any of them."