1Title: A Twist of Fate
Ratings/Warnings: In this chapter- very minor swearing and of course...Ryan angst
Beta: loracj2
Disclaimers: I own nothing in relation to The O.C. All mistakes are mine
Summary: Beginning of Season 1, AU, In The Pilot, Kirsten asks Sandy "What if this is all a scam? What if he's just using you to case the house?" In this story it is the truth, but not by Ryan's choice. For the purposes of this story Dawn is dead and there never was a Trey.
Twist of Fate: Chapter Nine
Son...of...a...bitch! Ryan swore and ripped the tie from around his neck and threw it to the floor.
ocococococococ
Ryan and Seth were sitting on the living room floor, deeply involved in Playstation when Kirsten walked in carrying a clear plastic garment bag.
"Ryan, I found an old suit of Sandy's for you to wear this afternoon. I've been meaning to give it away. I'm afraid Sandy outgrew it at least two years ago."
Sandy had made a point on sticking close to Ryan since breakfast. He wanted to keep an eye on him, but just as much, he wanted Ryan to regain some of the feeling of comfort he had begun to show the previous night, before the high-five incident made him pull back into his shell.
He was sitting on the loveseat opposite the boys, pretending to read a book when Kirsten made her announcement. He looked up at her with his his best look of hurt and disbelief. "Hey, I remember that suit. For your information, I didn't outgrow it. I stopped wearing it because I didn't like it."
She leaned over the couch, patted his stomach and winked at the boys. "Yes, dear. I imagine it would be a little hard to like something you can't breathe in."
"Hands off the merchandise, lady. I'll have you know that I'm in as good as shape as the day you married me. Rock hard abs is what you have here. I can't tell you how many times the ladies check me out while I'm surfing. I never told you, of course, to spare you the intense feelings of jealousy."
"Thank you, honey. I appreciate you thinking only of me. I'm quite sure you're still the same chick magnet that you were twenty years ago. Now, before you distract me anymore with your manly physique..."
"Mom, Dad, please stop now before I lose my breakfast."
Kirsten rolled her eyes. "As I was saying, I'm going to put this out in the pool house for you, Ryan. You boys have about twenty more minutes before you need to change."
"I don't think I should go." Ryan spoke so softly that Kirsten barely heard him.
"Aren't you feeling all right? You are looking a little pale. Maybe I should take your temperature again." She laid the suit over the back of the couch and headed toward the bathroom.
Ryan shook his head. "No, that's not it. I feel fine. It's just...well..." He began to chew his lower lip and glanced up at her through his bangs. "I've never been anywhere that made you dress up just to eat. What if I do something wrong? I might embarrass you."
Sandy put his book down on the coffee table and leaned forward. "It's going to be fine, kid. Despite having to wear a suit, the club really isn't all that formal. There's nothing to worry about."
"Yeah, buddy. It's no big deal. Unless of course you use your dessert fork to eat your salad. The last guy to do that was never seen or heard from again."
"Don't listen to him, Ryan," Kirsten said, while trying not to glare at her son. "Didn't you and Seth eat at the diner on the pier yesterday?"
Ryan nodded.
"The only difference between there and the club is a dress code."
"The diner has a dress code, Mom. It says so right on the door. No shirt, no shoes, no service. Considering it's right on the beach that seems like a pretty strict dress code to me."
"Any more help out of you and I'll cancel our reservations and cook lunch myself. You know," She began while pointing her finger in the air. "It has been awhile since I've cooked my famous brisket."
"I'm sorry! I love the club. It's awesome. My most favorite place to eat in the whole world. Besides, you wouldn't do that to Ryan, would you? I mean that would be cruel and inhumane."
Kirsten narrowed her eyes. "Cruel and inhumane?"
"No, no, no. You completely misunderstood me. I didn't mean that your cooking is inhumane. Quite the opposite, you're the Julia Child of Orange County." Seth widened his eyes in an attempt to look sincere and innocent. "I simply meant that I'm sure deep down, he was really looking forward to dining with Newport's finest. It may very well be an experience to treasure throughout his lifetime."
"Well, since you put it that way, the club it is." Kirsten picked up the suit from the couch and walked into the kitchen, but stopped before opening the patio doors. "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you that the tie is in the breast pocket."
"A tie?" As Ryan slumped back against the foot of the couch, he heard Sandy softly chuckle and say, "I wouldn't even think about arguing about that one, kid."
ocococococococ
Now after fifteen minutes and fifteen failed attempts, Ryan stood, glaring at the tie that now lay crumpled on the bathroom floor. He was about to stomp on it, just to make himself feel better, when he heard the pool house door open.
"Seth," he cried out. "Get in here and help me with this stupid tie your mom expects me to wear. I hate the damn thing."
Ryan froze. He had expected to hear a snide comment from Seth, but instead, the sound of Sandy's laughter filled his ears. He quickly made a dive for the tie, but Sandy was already in the doorway leaning down to pick it up.
"I take it things aren't going too smoothly?" Sandy asked with a knowing grin, swinging the tie back and forth on his index finger.
Ryan cursed his stupidity. Despite the fact that Mr. Cohen didn't look angry, Ryan knew better. There was no way Art would ever tolerate anything of his being treated that way.
"I...I didn't...I mean...I shouldn't have...I'm sorry..." He tried to explain, apologize, but gave up. Excuses and apologies rarely did any good anyway. He took a breath, turned his head, burying his chin into his left shoulder, and closed his eyes, waiting.
As Sandy watched Ryan preparing himself to be hit, his hatred for Art grew.
"It's okay, kid. I know exactly what you mean. I've been wearing ties for twenty years and I still hate them."
Ryan dared to open his eyes.
"I didn't know how to tie a tie until I was twenty-five. Button your top button and put your collar up."
Ryan did as Sandy asked and tried not to flinch when Sandy placed the tie around his neck.
"Now the skinny side has got to be shorter than the fat side. How much shorter changes from tie to tie. Sometimes it's just a mystery."
Ryan watched and listened as Sandy taught him how to tie a tie. He knew he was safe for now. But he couldn't help wondering about this strange man in front of him. Ryan wondered what it did take for Sandy to lose his temper. Ryan hoped he never found out.
"There you go," Sandy said as he straightened Ryan's tie. He turned the boy toward the mirror. "You look pretty sharp. Your face is a little more colorful than I'd like, but all in all you have to admit, it sure beats a jump suit."
Ryan slowly smiled. He had to agree with Mr. Cohen. He did feel pretty good, but he figured it was the suit. It probably cost more than most of the cars in Chino.
"Come on kid. Kirsten and Seth are waiting for us out front.."
They were pulling out of the gates at the end of the drive when Ryan heard something that sent chills down his spine. He could have sworn he heard the rattle and roar of Art's truck. He turned around and caught a glimpse of what looked like an old truck speeding away.
"Is something the matter, Ryan?" Sandy questioned. He was looking at Ryan in the rearview mirror.
"No, it's nothing. I just thought I heard something." He slumped down in his seat. He couldn't be sure of what he thought he heard, or might have seen, but he knew. He knew that Art was checking up on him, and letting him know not to forget the real reason he was there.
ocococococococ
They arrived at the club shortly after one. Sandy had barely handed the keys to the valet when Seth started complaining.
"Would you hurry up? I'm starving."
"You're always starving," Kirsten admonished.
"But this time I mean it. I can literally feel myself getting weaker and weaker from the hunger." He pulled at the waist band of his slacks. "See, these pants weren't this loose when we left the house." He threw his head back and whined some more. "Why is Ryan not out of the Rover yet? If I pass out right here and now, buddy, it'll be all your fault."
Sandy looked at Ryan still hunched down in the back seat. "Seth, why don't you and your mother go on in and get our table? Ryan and I will be in a couple of minutes."
"You've got five minutes. Come on, Mom. They better have the good rolls today, or heads will roll. No pun intended."
Sandy waited until Seth and Kirsten were inside before opening Ryan's door. "Are you sure everything's all right? I know you're not exactly the most talkative kid in the world, but you haven't made a sound since we left the house."
Crap, he was in trouble again. No wonder Art was always calling him a screw-up. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you wait on me. I'm fine. We can go inside." He got out of the Rover and started walking away.
Without thinking, Sandy grabbed Ryan by the arm to stop him and said, "Hold on there a minute. I want to talk to you."
He immediately regretted his action. Ryan inhaled sharply and pulled away from him.
"I'm sorry."
"No, kid. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have grabbed your arm. That's the one with the bruise on it, isn't it? Does it hurt?"
It was and it did, but he shook his head no.
"No. I'm fine. Honest. Can we go in now?"
"In a minute. I want to know what's bothering you. Are you still worried about eating here?"
Ryan thought that was as good as excuse as any.
"Yeah, I guess. I mean look at this place. Normally they wouldn't even let me park cars here."
"Well, you've got a point. You don't have a license and the whole car stealing incident wouldn't look good on a resume."
Ryan looked at the ground.
"Sorry, bad joke," Sandy apologized. "You know, they wouldn't let me in a place like this either if I wasn't married to Kirsten."
Ryan turned his head up.
"I mean I'm a public defender. What I make in a year wouldn't cover just even one Newpsie's bar tab. But you know what? You and I are here now, and we both look good. Damn good if you ask me."
Ryan paused. "What about those Newpsies you keep talking about? They'll be in there, won't they? Won't they ask you who I am and where I'm from? What are you going to tell them?"
"Don't worry about them. The one good thing about Newpsies is that they all like to have a good time on Saturday night. This morning their claws will be retracted. They are going to be too busy dealing with the effects of last night to pay much attention to anyone or anything. And if they do, we'll just tell them you're a friend of the family. It's the truth, isn't it?"
Ryan smiled at him for the second time that day. "Yeah, I guess."
"Good, let's go eat. Seth is probably sending out a search party by now."
As Ryan walked through the dining room, he was relieved to discover that Sandy had been right. Most of the women there were sporting large dark glasses and were staring very intently at the cocktails sitting in front of them.
"Is everything all right?" Kirsten asked, when they reached the table.
Sandy took a seat next to his wife and grabbed her hand. "Everything is just fine, honey. I just had to explain a few Newpsie rituals to Ryan."
"You told him about the Newpsies?" Kirsten asked, shocked.
"It's okay. Seth and I both mentioned them yesterday. But don't worry. I explained that they were not unlike vampires. They shrink from the bright rays of the sun." He picked up a roll and pointed it at her. "Of course, I think part of the reason they don't like bright lights is that their nips and tucks are a bit more obvious. But don't worry about Ryan. He's fine." Sandy looked over at Ryan and saw him staring wide-eyed at the menu. "Or at least he was."
Ryan couldn't believe what he was seeing. Half the items on the menu he had never heard of before, and the other half was unbelievably expensive. He could eat for two weeks for the cost of one meal here. The Cohens knew he didn't have any money. They had been more than generous all weekend with him, but surely they weren't going to spend that much money on him?
By the time the waiter appeared, Ryan had scanned the menu three more times, before deciding that the soup was the cheapest thing on the menu. He was about to order, when Sandy took the menu from him and began to order for the entire table.
"Afternoon, Michael," Sandy began. "I believe we'll all just have the special this afternoon."
"Um, Dad. That's not what I was going to order...OUCH! Hey, who just kicked me?"
"Sorry, son. Leg cramp. You're the one who always says I've got old bones." He looked sharply at Seth and darted his eyes toward Ryan.
"Oh, got it. Yeah, you and those old decrepit bones of yours. As I was about to say, before I was crippled, the special.Yummy, sounds delicious."
"I thought so."
Ryan looked at Seth, then at Mr. Cohen and then back again. He realized that Mr. Cohen was trying to make him feel comfortable and that Seth, as always, was a bit slow catching on. And although he didn't understand why they cared about his feelings, he appreciated it.
"Thanks."
"For what, Ryan?" Sandy tried to sound innocent. "I realize that I should have probably asked you if the special was okay, but since Seth is clearly starving to death, I didn't think it was wise to waste any more time."
Ryan didn't bother to say anything else. He caught himself smiling again, and thinking about how much he would miss this family after tomorrow.
ocococococococ
After the meal was over, Ryan excused himself. He had just exited the restroom when he felt himself being shoved against the wall.
"Well, well, well, lookie who's here."
Ryan found himself staring at Chet Steadman from the previous afternoon.
"I see Cohen dressed you up for today's date. He needn't have bothered. Everyone here can tell you're nothing but street scum."
"Get out of my way," Ryan warned.
"Or what?" Chet pushed Ryan back against the wall, holding him there. "You know, I never got to finish what I started yesterday. Maybe I should take you out back like the trash you are, and kick your ass."
"Last time I checked yesterday's fight was two against one, rich kid." Ryan knocked Chet's hand away. "And I don't see your little boyfriend anywhere around today. So if you want to go out back and finish what we started at the diner, I'm all for it."
Ryan didn't have any intention of getting in a fight and embarrassing the Cohens, but he knew kids like Chet and had dealings with them before. He was a bully that would back down when push came to shove. He took a menacing step toward Chet. "What are you waiting for? Let's get this over with."
Chet didn't disappoint Ryan. He backed away and began stuttering, "Are...are you serious? Fight here at the club, with my parents right inside?"
Ryan snorted in disgust. "Yeah, I mean right here, right now." With each word, Ryan gave Chet a small shove backwards. "Why? Do you have a problem with that, mama's boy?"
"No, I mean, look, maybe it's not that big of a deal that you're here today. I can overlook it this once."
Ryan snorted in disgust and was about to walk past Chet and back to the Cohens when unfortunately, Chet's mother appeared.
"Chet, sweetheart, what's going on here? Who's this boy you're talking to?" She eyed Ryan suspiciously. "I don't know you. Who are your parents?"
"He's the one I got in a fight with yesterday, Mom."
"So you're the one who gave my son a black eye. Listen here, young man, I don't who you are or where you came from, but you can just go right back. This is an elite community. We do not tolerate low-class ruffians here. It's bad enough you started a fight at the pier yesterday, but this is The Club. I will not have you bullying my son. I've half a mind to have the manager call the police."
The police. Ryan swallowed hard and backed away.
"Is something the matter, Marcie?" Ryan was never so relieved to hear anyone's voice as much as he was Mrs. Cohen's at that moment.
"Kirsten, don't tell me this boy is with you."
"Yes, he is. This is Ryan. He's a friend of the family and he's staying with us for the weekend."
Marcie sniffed in disgust. "I take it he's a friend of Sandy's family."
Kirsten did not appreciate Marcie's tone. "Just exactly what do you mean by that, may I ask?"
"Oh come on, Kirsten. Who are you trying to fool? Look at him. This boy is obviously not from polite society. I'd recognize that old suit of Sandy's anywhere. He must be some poor friend of Sandy's from where he used to live before you rescued him. Wasn't Sandy from the Bronx?" Marcie said the last like it was a dirty word.
"Yeah, I'm from the Bronx. Proud of it, too." Sandy came up from behind.
Marcie jumped at Sandy's sudden appearance. "Sandy, I didn't see you come over. I hope I didn't offend you."
"Offend me? Don't be ridiculous. I will say I'm a bit disappointed and frankly, a little surprised."
"How so?"
"This is supposed to be a community that welcomes outsiders. I mean, like you pointed out, I'm all the way from the Bronx and you, you're from Riverside, right?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Now, Marcie," Sandy said condescendingly. "We all know how much Greg likes to talk when he's had a few too many. Last summer after the annual charity golf tournament, he happened to mention how he met you."
Marcie began to look very nervous. "He did?"
By this time Sandy was grinning like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. "Yes, he did, and I must say that I personally think that all methods of dance are an art form. Don't you agree?"
Chet looked at his mother. "Mom, what's he talking about?"
"Nothing, dear. Just go back to the table."
"But, Mom."
"Now...please."
Chet turned and left. Marcie looked over her shoulder to see if anyone else was within hearing distance.
"All right, Sandy, you made your point. I apologize if I insulted you or your house guest."
"Apology accepted."
"If I may ask, was anyone else around when Gregory was telling that particular story?"
"No. Your secret is safe with me."
"Thank you. Kirsten, I'll see you at yogalates tomorrow." She turned to walk away.
"Oh, and Marcie," Sandy began.
"Yes?"
"Before you go around accusing Ryan of starting fights with your son, I suggest you get your facts straight." He put a protective arm around Ryan's shoulders while not letting him pull away. "I know that Ryan didn't start the fight yesterday, and I can guarantee that whatever little altercation that just transpired here was definitely not by his choice. He's a good kid, and I don't want the local gossipers to hear any different. You do realize how news spreads in this town. Do we understand each other?"
"Yes, I do. They won't hear a word from me."
"Thank you."
After Marcie left, Ryan sighed and slumped back against the wall. He didn't know what to think about what had just happened. The Cohens didn't seem to be mad at him at all. In fact, they had actually defended him to Chet's mother. No one had stood up for him his entire life.
He glanced at the two of them before returning his gaze to the floor and said, "Thank you."
"For what, kid?"
"Um, for standing up for me. For not getting mad that I embarrassed you and caused a scene in front of your friends." He straightened and dared to look directly at Sandy before asking hesitantly, "You're not mad, are you?"
"Why would I be mad? Kirsten and I know you didn't do anything wrong. And you didn't embarrass us. If anyone should be embarrassed, it should be Marcie for raising a baboon for a son."
"Sandy, he's just a kid."
"I know that, honey, but he's still a baboon." He took a hold of her arm and started guiding her back to their table. "You know what I think we've all had enough of the club for one day. Why don't you go get Seth and we'll go?"
Kirsten smiled and shook her head and went back to the table.
"I'm assuming you're ready to leave too, Ryan."
"Yeah. Are you sure you're not mad?"
"Mad? Are you kidding me? Don't tell Kirsten, but that was the most fun I've had in weeks."
tbc