Author's Note: I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving, I know I did. I got to visit home for the first time in months. Enough about me though, onto to the important stuff. Thank you to those who have reviewed. I am a little apprehensive about the drop in reviews lately, only because it makes me worry people are dissatisfied with the story. If you are not pleased or bored or whatever, please let me know, it's the only way I can make it better. Despite that, the response for this story has been awesome and all I can say is thank you.
Here, I am giving you a bit of a longer chapter than usual. I hope you like it, it's kind of a reward for the long wait. Also, this chapter and the next several following chapters, will have a bit of a change in focus. I will be concentrating more heavily on Summer's character for a while. Seth is still prominent of course, but I felt it was important to get Summer's perspective for a while. I hope you agree.
Warning: I've decided to make this story a little more adult than it was previously. That means more bad language and more discussion about sex. I'm just letting you know now.
Seth had been aimlessly watching TV when his family trudged back in to the house. Ryan was in the lead, holding a groggy and sleepy Mikayla tight to his chest. Marissa followed, and his parents were a comfortable distance behind. Seth avoided looking at all of them. At the moment, he really just wanted to be alone. Summer's visit had had quite an effect on him. That was something he didn't like admitting to himself, but he couldn't deny how being so close to her had made him confused. He wasn't sure what to think, or how to act, or even how he should feel. He wanted her, he could admit at least that much, but he had always wanted Summer. He just didn't know if he could trust her or if it was worth putting himself out there like that again. He didn't think he'd survive another rejection; if he gave her another chance, he wanted to be sure.
Ryan acknowledged him with a nod, and then promptly walked up the flight of stairs. Marissa dutifully followed without a word. Seth thought that his parents would do the same, but they stopped in front of him, blocking the TV. His father had an arm wrapped around his mother's waist, and they were both leaning into each other. His father looked serious and his mother looked pensive. He sighed out loud and turned off the TV. He didn't mean to resent the intrusion, especially considering how understanding and unobtrusive his parents had been, but he didn't want to do this. All he wanted to do was brood about Summer and watch some mindless TV. He knew he was being selfish, but he had spent most of his life only thinking about one person, and that person was himself. It was difficult to shake the habit.
They had talked about his trip already, in brief at least. But that had been him going to them, apologizing, and keeping his distance. He hadn't wanted to get into everything. His parents desperately wanted to know, that was obvious, but they had so far respected his desire to keep that stuff in the past. He knew that was only temporary. Too much stuff had happened; he'd been gone for too long for them not to eventually ask him what he'd gone through. Now they were coming to him, which meant they had something specific they wanted to discus. Which of course meant he was about to feel real shitty, and was going to be expected to open up.
He just wanted to be alone. Couldn't they see that? Couldn't they understand that? He had gotten so used to being on his own over the years that it was hard to spend time around other people. It was such a departure from who he was, but he liked not having anyone to talk to now. He liked the lack of expectations and the lack of responsibility to others. He was pretty damn fucked up, he didn't want to burden others with his problems and he didn't want to remind himself of things by talking about them out loud. As long as they stayed silent, locked away deep in his mind, he would be able to deal with them. He'd be able to move on.
He hadn't known what to expect when he made the decision to come back home, but he hadn't expected to have to constantly talk about things that were physically painful for him. He just wanted to live his life that was all. So what if he at least owed them some kind of reason? He just wanted to be left alone.
"Son, we need to talk." Like usual, it seemed his father was taking point in the conversation.
Seth straightened his posture as best he could and faced his parents with a blank, but attentive face. He wasn't going to just divulge everything but he would try to give them what they wanted. "Okay."
"First, I just want to say that we love you. I feel as if that was something lost in all the, uh, drama surrounding your disappearance."
His mother added, "We both love you very much and we never ever wanted you to leave." He wanted to make a sarcastic remark, but just couldn't do that to his mother.
"I love you too." That was something he would have never admitted as a teenager unless under great duress.
Both his parents looked a little taken back by his open and speedy response, but Seth thought they did a pretty good job of covering their surprise well. "That's good, son. I mean," and Sandy graced him with a lopsided smile, "that's something every parent likes to hear." His father then sat down on the coffee table in front of him while his mother joined him on the couch.
Seth angled his body so that it was easier to keep both of them in his field of vision. He felt a little claustrophobic, pinned between both of them at once. It felt like they were double-teaming him, bearing down on him with their judgmental eyes. God, he was paranoid. "Can I say something before we continue on with whatever it is you guys want to say?" It was time to throw himself on his sword once again.
His mother and father exchanged looks, Kirsten nodding her head just slightly. "Of course."
"Okay, so like I know I kind of mentioned this before, but I feel it needs repeating." Seth took a deep breath and started on the speech he had gone over and over in his head thousands of times. "I'm sorry." He held up a hand to forestall any argument and continued. "I'm sorry about everything. I don't want you to think that any of this was your fault. I'm not saying you think that way, but just in case you do, don't. I was stupid, and selfish, and I put you both through so much unnecessary pain because I thought I was doing the best thing. I should have talked to you guys, asked for your help, but I thought I could handle it. I realize now that I was just being ridiculous and no matter how much you might have been upset with me over what I did, you never would have kicked me out or disowned me or anything like that. And I'm just really sorry." His ramble had quickly turned into a choked up plea for understanding.
He instantly felt the comforting arms of his mother wrap around him. He turned toward her and buried his face into her shoulder. She rubbed his back gently and cooed softly into his ear. He felt like a four-year-old, but didn't care because he knew his mother would take care of him. He sniffled and held onto her as tight as he could. "Oh sweetie, we know. We are just so happy that you are okay."
"I'm so sorry, mom." He cried a little.
"Hey, look at me." Kirsten gently pulled his face up so that she could look him in the eyes. His face was slightly blotchy, his eyes partially swollen. He locked eyes with his mother and despite the comforting and almost serene look in her eyes, he could see the pain she was holding back. It only made him want to cry harder. "We love you, okay? We know you never meant to hurt us and we are just happy to have you back in our lives." Kirsten grinned slightly and kissed him gently on the forehead. "You're my baby and I missed you."
Seth blushed and carefully pulled away from his mother. Okay, that was just going too far. He was willing to forgive a lot, considering the circumstances, but that was too much. "Mooooom." He whined expertly and his mother only grinned wider. He rolled his eyes and settled back into his spot on the couch. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt.
Sandy looked at him with clear amusement. "Hey, where's my hug?"
Seth groaned and leaned across to briefly wrap his arms around his father. He flopped back down onto the couch with a huff. "You call that a hug? Not cool, son, not cool." Sandy leaned across and pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace. Seth actually had a little trouble breathing, but he let his father have his moment. He knew the hug was as much for his father as it was for him.
When his father finally pulled away, Seth made an exaggerated point to wheeze loudly. "Geeeze, dad, you trying to kill me?" Sandy didn't say anything, just looked at him steadily.
"I just missed you. Can't a father hug his son?"
"Yeah, yeah, I guess it's all right." He did have a reputation to uphold, even if it was a very old one.
Sandy rolled his eyes and looked over at his wife, who nodded her head. It kind of freaked Seth out that his parents could communicate so easily with each other without saying a word. They were just that connected and knew each other so well that they didn't even have to speak to know what needed to be said. It made him a little sad. He would never have that kind of connection with another person. At the same time, it made him happy as well to see that his parents were still going strong despite all the crap he had put them through. The thought that something might have happened to their relationship because of his stupidity was enough to almost make him suicidal. There was only so much guilt a weak soul like him could take.
"Son, we do need to talk to you about something important." All traces of amusement left his father in a rush. It was all seriousness and straightforwardness.
"It's about," his mother paused and looked away, swallowing slightly, "your grandfather."
His grandfather? He hadn't thought about his grandfather Caleb in so long. He wondered how the crotchety old bastard was doing. "Is he okay?"
Sandy sighed and shook his head. "Son, Caleb passed away. He died about seven years ago."
"What!?" Seth slid to the edge of the couch, looking wildly back and forth between his parents. Caleb was dead? He felt like he had just been punched in the stomach. This was just, there was no way. He had always thought Caleb was immortal. He was too stubborn and manipulative to die.
"He had a heart attack. There was nothing anybody could do."
Seth collapsed back into the cushions absolutely shocked. Holy shit, his grandfather was dead and he never knew. He had never known anyone who had died before. It was beyond his current ability to comprehend. He felt the pull of his own mortality, thinking about all the crap that had happened to him over the years, and all that he had missed. And then he cursed himself for thinking about himself at this time. His grandfather had died without a chance to say goodbye. He had missed his funeral, missed being there for his mother when she had probably needed him most. He had done everything wrong. He had never felt more terrible about everything that had happened than he did at that moment. "Why didn't you ever tell me? Seven years? Jesus." He was going to be sick, he was going to cry, he was going to hit something. He sounded so desperate, pained, and tired.
"That's not fair, Seth. We didn't know where you were, remember?"
Suddenly angry, needing to lash out, he yelled, "Bullshit! You could have told Anna. I would have come home!" For that he would have come home. He would have risked Ryan's wrath, his parents' disappointment, everything for that.
He hadn't been a completely shitty son. For the first couple of years after his disappearance, he had always made sure to keep Anna relatively up to date about how he was doing. She was his conduit to his parents. He told her, she tried to convince him to go home, she told them, they tried to convince her to tell him everything was okay and nobody was upset. They just wanted him home. He would never tell her where he was, though, for precisely that reason. He didn't want her or his parents to come looking for him, but he made sure she had enough information to at least help reduce the worry he knew his parents must have had. After St. Louis that conduit had stopped, and it was the primary reason for why he hadn't spoken to Anna in so long.
His father turned away from him then, an ashamed look on his face. It was his mother who responded. "It was a confusing time, Seth. We, uh, didn't think to let you know when it happened and by the time we realized, it had already been months."
They had forgotten him. Oh his mother hadn't said the words, but he could easily read between the lines. They had fucking forgotten him. The worst part was that he didn't blame them. If he had been them, he would have done his best to forget his ungrateful, terrible son too. But that thought did nothing to lessen the pain. He needed to leave. He just couldn't be around them right now. He had to run away. Everything was crashing down on him. He stood up. "I – I have to leave."
Sandy reached out and grabbed his forearm in a firm grip. "No, wait. There is something you have to know."
Seth wrenched his arm free from his father but didn't bolt from the room like he wanted to. "What?" He barely recognized his own voice.
"You know that your grandfather was a very wealthy man."
This was what they wanted to talk to him about? How rich his grandfather was? What the hell? "Dad, everybody in freaking Newport knows that."
Sandy nodded unphazed. "Well, your grandfather also loved you very much." Seth snorted at that. He often thought Caleb looked on him as some kind of idiot, who he only tolerated because they shared the same genes. Not that he ever thought his grandfather genuinely didn't like him, but come on? Who did Caleb ever like except for maybe his daughter? "I know it seems hard to believe at times, seeing how he was such a money grubbing, heartless bastard."
"Sandy!"
Seth actually smiled at the strident tone of his mother. At least some things never changed. "Anyway, what I'm saying is that he did love you. And when you were born, he created a trust fund for you. I think it was the best way he knew how to express his affection."
"Uh, what?" This was news to him.
"Your mother and I helped him put it together."
"And you're just telling me this now?"
"We never wanted you to know until you were older, sweetie. We didn't want it to affect your decisions about your life."
"What your mother means is that I didn't want you to turn into another soulless Newpsie before you were 13."
"Oh wow." He had a trust fund? He had no idea what to say. He had always assumed, that considering his parents, a trust fund or something similar would certainly be in his future. He knew he would have never wanted for money if he ever needed it. And he had grown up a fairly spoiled child. But that still didn't decrease the surprise after all this time. After spending so many years with very little money to his name, he had completely forgotten what it was like to actually have an overabundance of money. "H-how much are we talking about here?"
"It's quite a lot, son. But it's based on certain conditions."
"How much?" He emphasized every word with calm seriousness.
Sandy sighed and rubbed a hand across his forehead. "A million dollars upon your graduation from college."
Seth had to sit down. He was a millionaire. He was. Not his parents, not his family, but him. Then Seth realized what his father had said. He laughed out loud and ignored the confused faces of his parents. How typical. He was rich but couldn't touch a single cent of his money because of how much his life sucked. "Wow."
"Um, that's not all, son." Sandy paused and looked like he didn't want to continue, but forced himself to keep going. "Another million on your 25th birthday."
Seth wanted to laugh again, but it was just too pathetically sad that he had all this money but couldn't touch it. It was a giant, cosmic joke. He was only 24. And he still questioned whether or not he'd ever reach 25, or older. "And another eight million if you ever accepted an upper management position with the Newport Group."
This time, Seth did laugh again, because that was never going to happen. "You know, grandpa always said I was the future of the company. I just never thought he meant it until now."
"I think my father considered it a kind of signing bonus if you ever joined the company."
"That's some bonus."
"Yeah, well, dad liked to think big." There was a definite sadness to his mother's words. He could only imagine what it must have been like for her, losing her son and her father in such a relatively short period of time.
"I'm not sure why you're telling me this now, though, seeing how I don't qualify for any of the conditions." Seth looked from his mother to his father, confused and still a little baffled.
His father reddened slightly. "To be honest, son, we were hoping if you knew about the trust fund, you'd be less likely to leave again."
"Oh." Well, that was to be expected. "I'm not going anywhere dad." That was mostly the truth. As much as he constantly felt the need to be alone, he had no plans to leave town again. He had come back to Newport to put his running away behind him, no matter how much he tried to regress. He wanted to change, he wanted his family back. He just wanted a life.
"We believe you." All three of them knew Sandy didn't truly mean his words. "But you understand why we might be a little, uh, apprehensive about things. Consider this our insurance policy."
Seth wasn't sure if he should be insulted that they thought he would care enough about the money to stick around just because of it, or if he should be grateful that he had an opportunity in front of him to recreate himself. Just thinking of all the things he could do with a million dollars made his head spin. "Thanks for letting me know. I just wish I could thank grandpa too."
"He would have loved that. He missed you."
"He did?" Seth was genuinely surprised.
"Yeah, he – uh – uh – I'm sorry, I need to use the bathroom." His mother sprung up from the couch, a hand covering her mouth, as she hurried to the nearest bathroom.
Seth stared after her in open shock. What had just happened? He'd never really seen his mother lose it like that. Except for the first time she had seen him a couple of days ago. He spun to face his dad and raised his eyebrows. "Dad?"
Sandy shifted on the coffee table, clearly uncomfortable. "Caleb and your mother had an argument right before his heart attack. It was, uh, kind about you."
"About me?" Seth squeaked and blushed. Why would anyone argue over him?
"Caleb was upset with how your mother and I handled things. And he, uh, in typical Caleb Nichol style, put most of the blame on Ryan. They argued, Caleb had a heart attack, and your mother has kind of blamed herself ever since."
Oh sweet Jesus and Moses, he had killed his grandfather. They had fought, over him. Seth could not say a word, even if he wanted to. He just wanted to crawl into the smallest hole and have it covered up after him. He was disgusted. He had killed his own grandfather. Holy shit. It was all he could think of. They had argued because of him, his grandfather had a heart attack because of him. If he had never left, it would have never happened. He killed his own grandfather.
Seth didn't say a word, he just stood up and calmly walked out the front door. He didn't look back, or stop when his father called after him, he just walked away. He killed his grandfather.
Summer's cell phone rang again. It had already gone off twice, and she had hung it up without answering both times. But whoever was calling her was being annoyingly persistent and it was seriously pissing her off. It was one in the morning for Christ's sake, who the hell could possibly be calling her now? What could they want or need that was so God damn important?
Resigned to the fact that she'd probably never fall back asleep if she didn't answer her phone, she pulled her cell phone to her ear and barked a greeting. At this point, she didn't care how pissed off she sounded. They were disturbing her precious sleeping cycle.
"Finally! Why the hell didn't you answer the first two times I called you?" Summer recognized Marissa's frustrated voice right away and felt a little guilty for ignoring her. But only a little.
"I was trying to sleep, Coop. What the hell do you want?" Woe to the person who got on Summer's bad side.
"We need your help. Seth's gone."
Summer was instantly awake, springing forward until she was sitting up. "What!?"
"Yeah, he's missing. We've been searching all over town for him but we can't find him. I thought maybe you might know something."
"Why would I know anything?" Summer practically spat the question out, afraid that Marissa had found out about her earlier confrontation with Seth.
Marissa sounded even more frustrated and a little pissed off. "I don't know. I'm kind of desperate here. I just thought – "
No. Hell fucking no. No. He was not going to do this to her again. She refused to be ditched by that curly haired loser a second time. Not when she was still trying to figure things out. "What the hell happened?" Summer didn't have time to listen to Marissa ramble on about her difficulties.
"I don't really know. He was talking to Sandy and Kirsten about something and he just bailed. Sandy is beside himself right now. He's totally freaking."
This was not happening. Not after this evening. He couldn't do this to her. She finally had a chance to make amends and now he was going to leave? Bullshit. "You don't think he's actually left town, do you?" Summer couldn't help sounding absolutely terrified of what Marissa's answer might be.
Marissa sighed and there were several seconds of dead silence. "No, I don't think so. Ryan and the Cohen's think he has, which is why they're going crazy, but I think he just wanted some space."
"Then – then maybe we should wait till morning? He might come back on his own." Not that she was going to listen to her own advice. She put Marissa on speaker and started to get dressed. She'd find him herself if she had to. She wasn't leaving this up to his whims.
"That's what I said, but I think for everyone's sanity, we need to find him as soon as possible." Marissa paused and her voice was nearly a whisper. "I'm a little afraid he might do something stupid and get himself hurt. He's not exactly in a very healthy place right now."
"You don't really mean that."
"I'm sorry, Sum, but yeah, I do."
"No, no, no, he can't do that." She was on the brink of having a serious panic attack. It was all she could do to lace up her shoes. She was all dressed up and ready to go but she was in too much shock from Marissa's revelation to move. "He's going to be fine."
"I hope so, I really do. Despite being annoying, I kind of like the guy."
"Yeah, so do I."
It took her much longer than she would have liked to find Seth, but she eventually located him in some dive bar about a mile from her house. She never would have thought to check the bars if it hadn't been for the way she had seen him drink his beer earlier. That had frightened her, seeing his comfort with the alcohol. He had never been known for his ability to hold his liquor, but he had downed the whole beer without any effects at all. It was highly disturbing.
She was a little surprised that the bar was still open, considering the hour, and even more surprised to see that Seth wasn't the only one inside. Did these people have no lives? Taking a look at her surroundings and wrinkling her nose at how much a dump the place was, she figured no. Seth had better appreciate what she was doing for him, actually willingly walking into such a disgusting, unsanitary place, far below her standards.
Still the utter and total relief she felt seeing her – she didn't even know what to call him. The relief she felt at seeing Seth's unruly head of hair, his upper body slouched over the bar counter, a half-drunk bottle of beer limply held in his hands, was enough to make the whole experience worthwhile. Thank God. It was all she could think at the moment. He was still here and he was still okay.
Of course, Summer being Summer, her happiness and palpable relief quickly transformed into a burning anger. The little shit, how dare he put her through this? How could he put his family through Hell after everything he'd already done to them? She was losing valuable sleep looking for his lame ass.
Stalking over to the bar, she sat down in a huff and smacked him on the shoulder. The bartender, a tall man with a shaggy beard and slightly stained shirt, looked at her amused. She simply glared at him and he walked away. Her attention back on Seth, she hit him again. "Cohen! What the hell is your problem? Your family is worried sick over you, God knows why, since you're totally not worth it!" She was still so pissed at him, and the fact that he was ignoring her, only made her angrier. Why wasn't he paying attention to her?
Seth's head lolled around to face her and he looked up with bleary, glazed over eyes. She sighed in disgust, he was drunk. And not just drunk, but absolutely hammered. This wasn't her Cohen, who the hell was this man? Seth didn't do this to himself. "S-Summer?"
"Yes, it's me, you ass." She hit him again, trying to knock some sense into him. He just picked up his bottle and tried to lift it to his lips. "What the hell are you doing?" She grabbed the bottle from his hand and pushed it away down the bar. He flailed for the bottle, nearly knocking himself and her off their bar stools. She shoved him in retaliation and he teetered on his stool for several seconds before he grabbed the bar counter and steadied himself.
"Sorry." He muttered the apology to her and stared at the peeling wood of the counter.
Summer groaned and stood up, grabbing his arm. "Come on, we need to get you home."
"My grandpa's dead."
With those three words, Summer instantly deflated. All her anger vanished. Aw damnit, how could she be mad at him when he sounded so pitiful and pathetic? Sitting back down, she cautiously placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it briefly. "I know, Cohen, I'm sorry." She felt terrible for him and she didn't quite know why.
"My grandpa's dead and it's my fault."
"What? Who told you that nonsense?" God, she could only imagine what was going through his head. No wonder he looked so miserable.
"Dad told me he died because of me." His eyes locked onto hers and she sucked in a breath. She had to avert her eyes; she couldn't look at the pain and complete desperation in his eyes any longer.
"He did what!?" She did what she did best when she didn't know how to handle complicated emotions: she got angry. Anger was easy to deal with, it was simple and uncomplicated, and it was as familiar to her as breathing. She was going to give Sandy Cohen a piece of her mind. What the hell did he think he was doing? How could he do that to his son? She was so angry she had to fight her urge to succumb to a rage blackout.
"He – he told me that mom and grandpa had a fight because of me and it caused his heart attack."
Summer grabbed Seth by the shoulder and made sure he was looking at her. She didn't know how much what she was about to say was going to get through his alcohol riddled mind, but she needed to try. "Seth, no. Okay? No. You didn't cause Caleb to die. He had a sick heart and even if you had never left, he would still have had a heart attack and he would still have died. You had nothing to do with it." She breathed deep and stared at Seth. She needed him to understand. She hated seeing him like this, it made her sick.
"If I had never left, maybe he would've lived a couple more years, maybe I would have had a chance," he stopped, swallowed, and closed his eyes, "to say goodbye."
"Oh Cohen, it's not your fault." She couldn't help herself, she had to do something to make him feel better, so she pulled him close and wrapped her arms around him. He didn't hug her back, but she heard him sigh and his whole body seemed to relax. She rubbed his back soothingly and whispered over and over again into his ear that it wasn't his fault.
"You smell good." He took a loud and obvious whiff. "You smell like peaches. I like peaches."
Summer stilled, warning bells sounding off in her head. He had just smelled her, like a dog. It was totally weird, and God help her, totally hot at the same time. What was wrong with her that she got turned on by him sniffing her like some animal? She was sick. She purposely but gently pulled her arms away from him. She needed some space. "Thank you."
"Do you taste like a peach too?"
Summer's breath caught in her throat. "No!" She barely managed to squeak out the word.
"You're pretty."
This was absurd. It was like he knew what he was doing. Drunken Seth was certainly a charmer. She blushed and lowered her eyes shyly. Oh Lord, what was wrong with her? Why did she let him get to her like this? He was drunk! He probably didn't even know what he was saying. So far he had been a remarkably coherent drunk in the sense that he spoke clearly and could follow his own thoughts, at least to a certain point, but he obviously appeared to just say whatever was on his mind. One minute he was maudlin, hating himself for things beyond his control, the next complimenting her with an almost childlike innocence. It was hard to rectify his drunken persona with his normal sober one. Lifting her eyes to settle on his face, she knew he was only reacting to her being so close; there was very little recognition of what he was saying in his eyes.
"I wish Caleb had had a chance to get to know you, I think he would have liked you."
Wow. She honestly didn't know what to say. That was one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to her. It wasn't the actual words; she had no real desire to know Caleb Nichol. Everything she had heard about him was that he was a domineering asshole who made Seth feel inferior, and she hated that. Only one person was allowed to talk to Seth that way and that was her, because she didn't actually mean the words, well most of the time she didn't, but the same couldn't be said for others. It wasn't the words he had spoken that made her feel warm, it was the way he said them, so softly and filled with absolute certainty; the way he looked at her, gentle and full of regret at lost opportunities; the way he made her feel included and the desire to make her a part of something important to him. She'd always known that Seth wanted her to be a part of his family, and she had always appreciated that, it was just – different this time. "Thank you, Cohen."
"I miss him. I miss everybody." He lowered his head to the bar counter and rested it atop the grainy wood.
"Cohen, can I ask you something?" Seth grunted and she took that as a yes. "Did you ever, uh, meet somebody while you were gone?" She had no idea why she was asking him this now, well she did, as she had been driving herself crazy with thoughts of him with other girls ever since her encounter with him earlier, but she felt almost dirty asking him while he was so obviously out of it. She figured this might be her only chance to get this kind of information from him, while he was too wasted to realize what he was saying. She felt terrible for taking advantage of him like that, but she needed to know where he, and she, stood.
"I met lots of people."
Summer frowned. "No, you idiot, I mean did you find anybody, um, special?"
Seth lifted his head, his forehead red and pocked from resting on the bar. "Oh, you mean girls." Summer could only nod her head, she was too apprehensive about what he might say to speak. She didn't know why it was so important to her, after all, she had been with many different guys since Seth, what did it matter if he had been with any girls? He had every right to and the fact that she was even asking made her feel like a stupid jealous girlfriend. But she just needed to know. "One. Only one that meant anything."
"One? That's it?" One girl? No way. He had to be lying. She knew he wasn't exactly known for his prowess with the opposite sex, but she refused to believe any guy as amazing as him had only been with one girl in the entire time he had been gone. It was eight fucking years. No way. She couldn't accept that. She hadn't screwed him up that badly. Just no way.
A dead look overcame his eyes. "Yeah, just one. Her name was Kat."
She suddenly felt like a huge whore and immediately hated herself for it. What the hell was wrong with her? She didn't need to apologize for how she was or who she spent her time with. She would not let anybody make her feel bad for living her life the way she did. Even if that person was Seth Cohen and even if she was overwhelmed with guilt over everything she had done to him. So what?
She forced herself not to lash out at Seth. He hadn't done anything, she had no reason to get angry at him. He was just an easy target because he reminded her of everything she hated and despised most about herself. "What was she like?"
"She reminded me a lot of you. Probably why I liked her." Summer blushed.
"That's kind of creepy, Cohen. Couldn't have me so you tried to find my clone?" Shut up! What was she saying? Truth was, she found the thought that the only girl he had gotten close to in all this time was like her, kind of sweet in a sad kind of way. It was proof to her that a part of him still looked at her like he used to.
Seth's eyes hardened and he turned away from her. "She was mean like you too." He motioned for the bartender and the man brought over a fresh bottle of beer.
She wanted to argue with him, deny being mean, deny ever doing anything to make him say that, but she couldn't. She was mean, always had been and probably always would be. She had treated Seth horribly, even when they had briefly been together, and after, well she didn't like to think about that. She was never more ashamed or disappointed in herself than those few months after she had left Seth. And then Seth had left town and she changed. He changed her. Before Seth could take even one sip from the bottle, Summer snatched it from his hands and took a drink. It was bitter and sharp, not like the kind of beer she was used to. Seth tried to grab the beer from her but he was too uncoordinated from his inebriation to manage more than a half-hearted attempt. "Why was she mean?"
Seth gave her the pout that she had always found irresistible and she slid the beer back to him. He drank half of it right away. "She told me she loved me."
Summer already didn't like this girl. Still, she failed to see how telling Seth that she loved him could possibly be bad. "And that was mean?"
Seth drained the rest of the beer without a pause and said tonelessly, "She lied."
"Oh." Now she understood and decided right then and there to hate this girl forever. Seth looked so broken and lifeless that she couldn't help it. She just wanted to make him feel better, she wanted to show him that there was still a part of life worth living for. It just wasn't fair. It was like he was never going to have any luck with women, they all screwed him in the end. And she put herself firmly at the top of the list. "What did she do, Cohen?"
Seth didn't say anything for a while, fiddling with a splinter of wood from the bar counter. "I was with her for a long time. I thought I loved her, no, I did love her."
Summer closed her eyes briefly but let the flash of pain at those words dissipate quickly. She had been with many guys since Seth, but she had never loved any of them. Not even close. She had barely even tolerated some of them. But now was not the time for her own issues, she needed to be there for Seth. "It's okay, Cohen. You can tell me."
Seth turned toward her and he grabbed her hand, holding it in his and squeezing it tightly. Summer's eyes immediately went to their joined hands, a little taken aback, but trying hard not to care that he was willingly touching her. She looked back to his face, and he looked distant, almost in a different place. "She made me want to change. Before Kat, I just drifted from city to city, never staying, never doing anything. She made me stop. She made me want to get a job, get my own place, finish high school. She made me want to be better."
"That's good, Cohen." No it wasn't, but she couldn't actually say that out loud. She was so confused. On the one hand, she wanted Seth to be happy, to have a good life, to feel safe, and on the other hand, she didn't want him to want those feelings with anybody but her. Yeah, she was selfish like that, but she didn't care. The worst part was, she wasn't even sure she wanted to try again with Seth. Not only because she seriously doubted he still felt anything for her, and not because she was dating Nick, but because so much in her own life had changed and she wasn't the same person she was. They had both obviously grown up, and were not the same people; especially Seth, he was almost an entirely different person.
But there was no denying the heat and weird feelings she felt inside of her just from Seth holding her hand. There was no denying how seriously close she had come earlier from jumping him in the kitchen just because he had unknowingly touched her back. It was so intimate and yet such a natural thing between them that she had lost her head. Just one touch, that was all it took for her to forget everything except for the way he was touching her and the way he was looking at her. There was nobody that did that to her but him. She couldn't deny that even if she wanted to.
Seth squeezed her hand extra hard and she winced, but didn't say anything, afraid to break him from his trance. "Not good. She lied to me!" And he squeezed her hand again, this time impossible for her not to make her discomfort known. Seth focused his eyes on her face and she just knew he was thinking of her and how she had lied to him too. She sighed, there was that pesky guilt again. "She told me she loved me and it was nothing more than a lie." The bitterness in his voice was enough to make her turn away.
"How do you know it was a lie, Cohen? Maybe she really did love you."
"I found out she was cheating on me. With her boyfriend." Seth spat out the last word extremely hateful and Summer almost recoiled. She hadn't heard Seth use that tone of voice since he'd yelled at her for dating Mark May in high school. It brought back too many painful memories. Seth didn't care or seem to notice her reaction and let go of her hand and motioned for the bartender to come over. "Whiskey. I don't care what kind."
That was enough. The last thing he needed was more alcohol. She waved the bartender away, giving him an extra spiteful glare for good measure. She ignored Seth's protestations and stood up, grabbing hold of his arm, and began dragging him to one of the wobbly tables in a corner. At least if he was away from the bar, it would be harder for him to drink. He might even lose interest.
She sat him down and reached across the table to smack him lightly across the head. "Listen to me, Cohen!" She waited until she had his attention before continuing on, "You are not drinking anymore. Getting drunk is not the way to deal with your problems."
"Fuck you. What do you know about my problems? You are my problems!" Seth yelled at her and angrily stood up. "God, why can't you just leave me alone? I never did anything to you." Seth continued to just stand there, looking down at her with naked anger and hate in his eyes, but not leaving.
Summer literally had nothing to say. If this were any other circumstance, with any other person, she already knew what she would have done: she'd probably commit some act of physical violence, yell and curse the person, and then storm out. But it was Seth and he was right, she was partly to blame for how he was. Really, she just felt like crying. He never talked to her that way, only once before and that had been the second worst day of her life. "I'm sorry, I'm just trying to help. If you want me to, I'll leave." She sounded so timid and unlike her, but that was what he did to her.
Seth softened completely, the fire gone from his eyes, and he collapsed into his chair, covering his face with his hands. "I'm sorry, Summer. You shouldn't have to deal with a screw-up like me." Seth looked up briefly. "You are a good person, Summer. I don't think I ever told you that enough." He went back to hiding his face.
It was like a complete 180 with him. Seth had never been good at hiding his emotions, but drunk, he was even worse. He just floated around, pinging back and forth between good and bad, happy and sad, angry and calm, always changing at breakneck speed. Summer was exhausted. She tentatively reached out and placed her hand on his forearm, brushing against his soft hair. It tickled and reminded her so much of how she loved to play with it when they were together. "It's okay, I just want to help you." She stroked his arm slowly. "Tell me more about Kat?"
"I don't want to."
"I know, Cohen, but it might help you feel better."
"What do you care?"
Summer had to remember that he was drunk. He was drunk. It wasn't his fault, not completely. If she lost her temper, she'd lose whatever headway she'd made with him. "I care about you."
Now Seth looked up, visible surprise all over. "You do?"
"Yes, you idiot, of course I do."
Seth snorted and almost smiled at her. "You have a funny way of showing it sometimes."
Summer couldn't resist the need to grin. "What can I say? I'm a complicated woman."
Seth became silent and was looking at her so intently she felt the hairs along the back of her neck tingle. He looked like he wanted to devour her and possess her completely at the same time. It made her a little light headed. "Sometimes, at night, when I can't sleep, I still think of you and the way you said my name while I was inside of you."
Oh dear God, her whole body flushed and she had to break eye contact. "Um, okay, Cohen."
"Then I think about your smile, and the way your breath sped up as I stroked your hip, and the way you begged me to finally let you come."
Summer sat up straight in her chair, holding her arms firmly to her side, hands tightly coiled in her lap. She felt like she was on fire, that his voice was cascading over her in waves, adding more encouragement to the heat spreading throughout her. She felt her breath speed up, her head lighten even more, and her ability to process thought break down completely. It had been so long since he'd talked to her like this, since he'd looked at her like he was. It didn't matter that he was drunk, it only mattered that finally, after so long, she felt like someone wanted all of her. She missed it, missed feeling his skin against hers. She needed him.
She had to keep her hands to herself, it was the only way she could be sure she didn't do anything stupid like reach across the table, pull him atop it, and just fuck him right there. Holy shit, what was he doing? There was no way he was still drunk. No way. "Cohen, stop." She sounded desperate, but that was because she was desperate.
He just ignored her and continued on. "Then I think about all the things I ever wanted to do to you, all the ways I wanted to make you feel, all the things I ever wanted to say. And I would wish that I would finally get the opportunity." His tongue snaked out and slowly wet his lips. Summer was transfixed. A bomb could have gone off in the bar and she wouldn't have cared or noticed because all she could think about was his tongue, and his lips, and all the things he had ever done to her with them. She was almost past the point of no return.
"Tonight, when I saw you at the front door, I hated you. I hated you so much that I almost didn't let you inside. I wanted to yell and scream and tell you that I never wanted to see you again." He stopped and moved his chair around the table until he was sitting right next to her. He pried her hand away from her lap and held it in his own, gently stroking the top of it with his thumb. He stared at her until she locked eyes with him, and he smiled slightly. "But I didn't, because you're you. You still drive me crazy, make me think things I wish I didn't. Like how badly I wanted to grab you in the kitchen, carry you to the couch, rip off that ridiculously short skirt you were wearing, and get reacquainted with you with my tongue." And then he licked his lips.
She knew right there that he was playing with her. Whether he was doing it on purpose, just to be mean, or whether he unconsciously was trying to see how far she would go, it was plainly obvious that he was trying to push her to her limits. She knew it like she had never been surer of anything in her life. She knew. But she still didn't care. She was done. Rational thought had left the building a while ago, and she had never been more turned on in her life. She was going to make him follow through. She was getting laid tonight and screw Seth if he didn't agree. He had no choice in the matter. "Come on." She stood up, dragged Seth to his feet, and started pulling him to the exit.
"Where are we going?"
"To my place. You're going to do all those things to me you just said."
"Wait, what things?"
Fuck. No no no no. Fuck. She looked back at him, saw his completely blank face, and froze. This was not happening. It was seriously not happening. She couldn't do that to him, couldn't take advantage of him like that. She still questioned whether or not he was actually still drunk, but she couldn't risk it. Seth wasn't that good an actor, was he? He really didn't look like he remembered. God damnit!
Summer sighed and turned around to face Seth, a rueful smile on her face. "Never mind, Cohen. Come on, let's get you home." She would just have to take care of her problem when she was alone.
"I don't want to go back there now. Can I stay with you?"
She couldn't say yes. She absolutely could not say yes. She doubted she had the will power to resist him again if he tried anything. It would be bad, very, very bad. But she couldn't say no. "Yeah, Cohen, you can sleep in one of the guest rooms. The one downstairs." She felt it was important that she qualified that. She would put him as far away from her as she could.
Seth surprised her by hugging her. Having his body pressed up against hers while still in her heightened state of arousal was very cruel. "Thank you, Summer, I really appreciate it."
"It's the least I could do."
She really had no idea how she was going to make it through the night without screwing up.