So it seems like the happy little fic that is Bloom hasn't deterred me from writing complete, depressing angst. I apologize in advance for this.
Oh, and I'll give extra points if someone can guess what my favorite band is. I'm pretty sure I've used them more times as inspiration than any other.
Music: tonight, make me unstoppable; and I will charm, I will slice, I will dazzle, I will outshine them all
"Do I look ok?" She asked, smoothing down her skirt.
"You look fine," her lawyer answered, snapping his briefcase shut.
"I mean, do I look like someone who isn't inviting sexual advances?"
"You look fine," he repeated, this time looking up at her. "And you'll do fine. Just tell the truth."
Truth.
That was a novel concept.
They managed to be late to the airport; Kirsten had spent an extra hour fussing over Sandy and Taylor and the trial this morning.
But they were here now and he watched his brother get on a plane to Rhode Island with some master plan that he had only a vague knowledge of. Something about getting into Brown. Kirsten kissed his cheek at his gate and he was glad he hadn't missed his flight.
Who knew what would've happened if they'd gotten to the airport on time.
Apparently she'd done well.
She'd said all the right things, sniffled at all the appropriate times, kept her head bowed in shame and the jury had eaten it up. She'd seen the looks on their faces when she recounted her stories.
And she told the truth; the words that had come out of her mouth hadn't had a single false thing in them.
The way she'd acted, though, that was the lie.
She'd been pathetic and sullen. She'd hid the fact that she was pissed as hell; that she hoped McMahon rotted in jail for the rest of her life.
Juries didn't like vengeful girls; they likes soft-spoken, sad ones.
"I could drive you to the airport," Sandy offered as he drove her back to her apartment. "You could still make it to Berkeley."
"That's alright. I'm tired and with the trial, I'm not really in a collegiate mood."
Plus, Ryan would be at Berkeley, and she really didn't feel like spending the entire weekend watching him pine after Marissa.
She got enough of that here.
College was…
He couldn't think of a word to describe it.
No one cared that he was from Chino.
He wasn't the freak who went to class and did his homework while everyone else dealt pot and robbed convenience stores.
He wasn't the outcast who spent three years trying to fit in where he obviously didn't belong.
No.
At college, he was…
Normal.
People talked to him.
Girls smiled at him.
Not one single person the entire day rolled their eyes or whispered behind his back.
He'd gone from one extreme to the other; Chino to Newport.
Berkeley was like a middle ground.
He felt like Goldilocks.
Chino had been too big, Newport too small; Chino too hard; Newport too soft, Chino too hot, Newport too cold.
College was his medium chair; his comfortable bed; his lukewarm porridge.
Something in his head clicked; he couldn't describe it.
It was like being…
Like being…
Being...
Comfortable.
McMahon wasn't going to jail; some stupid technicality or something she didn't quite understand or care about.
But his firm had been quite displeased with the popularity and he'd been fired; no law offices in the area would take him.
And she had money.
Her mother's money.
While his kids were off at college, Sandy had helped her set up several accounts for herself; helped her set up a college financial plan; helped her apply for scholarships.
There was a strange feeling in her stomach; she couldn't describe it.
It was like being…
Free.
He smiled when Seth talked to him.
He smiled when Kirsten welcomed him home from his visit.
He smiled when Sandy clapped him on the shoulder.
He was happy. Excited.
He had a life; a future, and not just one of endless tedium and pointless endeavors.
"You'll work things out with Summer," he spoke suddenly, cutting Seth off.
"I dunno, she was pretty pissed off…" Seth continued, not listening to a word he was saying. Just like always.
He smiled.
They stood in her living room.
"So how was Berkeley?"
"Good. Your trial went well?"
"Yeah."
Something was off; something had changed.
She couldn't tell what it was, but it was something.
He was smiling.
She had a future.
She had a life beyond Newport; opportunities; freedom from McMahon, from her mother. She could decide what major she wanted, what she wanted to do with her life.
For the first time in her life, the only person she had to listen to was herself.
The only string left was Ryan.
He hadn't come for sex.
He'd been right, before. Prosecuting McMahon and getting her mom's money had changed her. She'd opened the door and her eyes hadn't been dead. They hadn't been bright, either, but there was something there.
Hope, he decided.
The same thing he was feeling.
Their sex was a release; it was a way to lose themselves; a way to forget their problems.
They weren't dating.
He'd never wanted to date her and he had a feeling she'd never deluded herself into thinking he did.
Their sex was about hopelessness.
But something had changed.
"I don't think we can do this," he told her finally, after their brief, awkward small talk. "Anymore, I mean," he clarified.
"I think you're right," she nodded and he breathed a silent sigh of relief. She wasn't going to fight with him; make a big scene.
"Sorry. I feel like I used you."
"I used you, too."
"I know."
"I guess I'll say I'm sorry, too, then," she shrugged and he laughed lightly.
"Friends?" he offered, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.
She paused for a while and tilted her head at him.
"No."
He looked her in the eye and she held his gaze steadily.
She was right.
They weren't dating.
They weren't friends.
"I'll see you around."
"Yeah."
She didn't pay much attention in school after that.
It's not like she had to.
The teachers all pitied her, they made things easier and gave her 'extra credit' for doing stupid, simple things. And she didn't have social committee to link her. Every day she showed up for school, sat in her classes, did her homework, but she didn't really pay attention.
She didn't go to prom.
She wasn't valedictorian.
She didn't care, though. She was still in the top three percent of her class and Harbor didn't matter anymore. The school, the teachers, the people. None of it mattered.
At graduation, they called her name and no one clapped for her.
She packed up her apartment and no one helped carry the boxes to the moving truck.
She moved to Berkeley two months early and settled into her new apartment and found a job at the local book store.
She spent her days working and her evenings self-touring the Berkeley campus and her nights watching movies and reading the books she spent most of her paychecks on.
She was alone, but somehow, it didn't feel as empty as it had before.
She had hope.
He never thought he'd graduate high school, much less go to college.
But here he was, sitting in his dorm, waiting for his roommate to show up.
The Cohens had stayed as long as they could, but they had to go to work eventually, so they'd finally left.
He was sick of staring at the empty wall on his roommate's side, so he went out for a walk.
The campus was filled with freshman; moving in, getting their ID pictures taken, freaking out, crying, hugging their parents. In the middle of it all there were older students, shouting directions over the noise, pointing confused kids in the right direction.
"Ryan."
He turned in the direction of the voice and took a deep breath.
"Hey, Marissa."
"So this is crazy, right?" she laughed nervously, looking around at the mass. "I have no idea what I'm doing."
"Did you get your ID yet?" She shook her head, frowning, like she had no idea she had to get one. "It's over by that red banner."
"You got yours?"
"A couple hours ago, before the lines built up."
"Oh." She hesitated a second.
"Want me to come with you?"
"If you're not busy," she smiled, relieved. They started to walk in relative silence and after a while, she spoke. "So how'd you get so good at this college stuff?"
Good?
They got into line and he turned to look at her; nervous, picking at her nails, looking around constantly.
She was terrified of college and he… wasn't.
Well, what do you know, he was actually good at something.
She'd gotten her ID and taken care of everything a few days ago. The last thing she needed was to be stuck in the middle of all those college kids.
She wasn't like them, she knew it. She wasn't living on campus, she wouldn't go to ragers, she wouldn't partake in all the wonders college life had to offer.
She'd go to class and do her homework and go to work and that would be it.
She wasn't going to even pretend like she'd try to make friends.
That never really worked out.
The closest she'd ever come was Ryan and she knew he was around somewhere, but she didn't need him.
He was a crutch; she knew that. Just like her mother had been; just like Shane; just like Sandy.
She just wanted to get through college so her real life could begin.
Maybe then she'd make friends.
Or maybe she'd just always be alone.
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