Updated February 2024.
Chapter 7
"If you start to feel sick, go lie down in the nurse's office, and I'll pick you up as soon as I can. I called the nurse to give her a heads-up that you might need a break today. And I want you waiting right outside as soon as school ends."
"I know, Dad."
"Don't overdo it. I'm going to call you at lunch, so make sure you leave your cell phone on." Sandy paused. "And try and eat something, huh?"
"We've been through this," Seth mumbled, feeling his face flush. He glanced back at Summer, wondering how much she was hearing of the whole exchange.
"Yes, we have been through this, and you're lucky your mom and I are even letting you come today." Sandy smiled at his son through the open car window. "Have a good day, Seth. And right after school, don't forget."
"Got it. See ya, Dad."
"Wow Cohen, your dad is such a...dad."
Seth threw his arm around Summer's shoulders and squeezed her body close to his as they started to walk towards the school.
"And what's your dad?" Seth bumped Summer's hip lightly. "A wallaby?"
Summer giggled.
Seth pressed a kiss to the side of Summer's head, inhaling the pleasant aroma of her strawberry vanilla shampoo.
It had been a heated negotiation that morning, Seth getting to come to school. His parents had almost pulled their offer when he'd adamantly refused to proactively spend his study hall in the nurse's office.
The point of going to school wasn't to go to actual classes; it was to hang out with Summer, and study hall was prime Summer time.
And now that his dad had put the kibosh on the whole sex in the Cohen abode thing, the thought of finding a far-off janitor's closet for some quality time had crossed his mind.
Now though, standing and walking upright and already feeling a deep exhaustion and various aches and pains coursing through him, it seemed stupid to Seth that he'd fought that hard to come to school, tiniest outside possibility of janitor's closet sex or no tiniest outside possibility of janitor's closet sex.
And the nurse's office beds were starting to seem a little appealing, with their crinkly sandwich paper and their weird stiff pillows and their accompanying tiny paper shot glasses of water.
It wasn't a bad way to spend a school day while you waited for your mom or dad to come pick you up.
But then Summer bumped his hip lightly back and leaned her head against his chest as they walked, and he remembered why he wanted to be there.
ooooooooooooooooo
Ryan glanced over at Summer and Seth.
It seemed like they were holding each other up and, perpetual third wheeling aside, he was glad they had each other.
He caught sight of Marissa sitting on a wooden bench, reading a book. She was wearing a jean skirt that showed off her legs, and a tight-fitting red top.
Ryan had always liked that skirt.
"Let's use the other stairs," Ryan suggested, looking away from his ex-girlfriend.
The other steps would mean he wouldn't have to pass by Marissa, catching the faint whiff of her shampoo mingled with her perfume. He knew that the temptation was strong to reconcile with her, if only to have a distraction, or even just to put an end to the third wheeling.
Seth was right that there had been something neat and convenient to having their group of four.
He knew it wouldn't be right to treat Marissa like that, that their relationship had never just been about casual sex or a means of forgetting his own problems for awhile, and he knew that if she smiled at him at that moment in time, he'd invite her back to the poolhouse in a second.
It didn't really seem fair to either of them.
Summer and Seth saw where Ryan was studiously avoiding looking. They exchanged glances.
"All right," Seth said quickly. "Cool. The other stairs it is. Awesome. I'm actually more partial to those stairs anyway. See that third step right there, guys? This was where I got pantsed in front of the cheerleading squad on my first day of school freshman year."
"That was you?" Summer asked, wrinkling her nose. "With the Bullwinkle boxers?"
Seth nodded grimly. "And thus my fate was sealed."
Ryan allowed himself to smile as the two bantered back and forth about underwear.
There was a pause in their banter as they stopped at Seth's locker, and Ryan felt a gentle touch on his elbow. He turned to see Summer looking at him earnestly.
"It's okay, Chino. You both need some time to deal. She'll figure it out and give you some space."
"Thanks, Summer," Ryan choked out, feeling a little uneasy but strangely touched, if he was honest with himself.
In truth, he'd never really had a friendship with a girl that hadn't had some kind of romantic or physical complication running through it; all the push and pull with Theresa, the times when he wanted a sister or a best friend and the times he wanted a distraction, and then the other girls who'd never quite been friends or girlfriends.
And then of course there was Marissa, his girlfriend and never really his friend, despite their clumsy efforts to become the latter. She continued to call him or stop by the Cohen house most afternoons, and that didn't seem to be getting any less awkward.
But he liked it, getting to know Summer, getting to have some of those same kinds of conversations and moments he used to have with Theresa-those kind of things he couldn't talk about with Artutro or Trey or the other guys-but without that undercurrent of complication.
It was a different kind of guard you could let down with a girl sometimes.
Granted, Ryan mused, Seth was also a different kind of guy from Arturo or Trey or his old friends, guys who would never talk about being pantsed or joke about being ridiculed or beaten up or humiliated. Seth might take some mild and playful jabs at him about having done a musical or played a cheesy video game, but it wasn't that same dread that filled him when Trey caught him looking stupid or soft or weak, knowing that he'd never hear the end of it until someone else in their circle did something stupid or soft or weak.
Newport-or at least Ryan's chosen small pocket of Newport, which, in truth, didn't feel that much like the rest of Newport-was a whole different world than the one he'd known.
oooooooooooooooo
The trio stood at the top of the stairs, side-by-side, taking in all their surroundings.
Everything seemed to sparkle and shimmer in its perfection. Guys walked by in their Abercrombie and Fitch, some shooting disgusted looks at Seth and Summer.
It was their first public appearance as a couple, and apparently they were not so well-received by the masses.
"This is going to be a long day." Seth plopped down on a nearby bench. He yawned. "I wonder how they'd react if they knew," he mused out loud. He shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Probably wouldn't even make a difference."
This time it was Summer and Ryan who traded glances.
"So hey, be honest, Ryan. How much baby-sitting have my parents demanded of you? Are you gonna turn the pages of my books, raise my hand in History?" Seth arched an eyebrow.
Ryan smirked. "I'm supposed to carry your books around, which isn't all that different from usual anyway."
"I take severe umbrage to that remark."
"Oh, and I'm supposed to run into you between classes to make sure you're okay."
"What, like duck into the bathroom and give 'em a call if I yawn or scratch or something?" Seth looked more amused than anything.
"Something along those lines."
"Gotta love the parental espionage ring, employing Benedict over here to spy on me."
Ryan shrugged. "I don't think they'd have let you come if I didn't turn traitor."
"Then Ryan, I appreciate your dedication to the cause."
The three sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the students as they passed.
A group of guys in letterman jackets walked by, loudly discussing the upcoming weekend's beach bash.
With the lull in conversation and banter, and so perhaps lacking the distraction of having anything to say, Seth stared down at the ground, looking thoughtful and tired and more than a little glum.
Summer and Ryan's eyes met again.
Summer stood up.
"C'mon Cohen. I'll walk you to English." She pulled on Seth's arm lightly.
"All right." Seth stood up with a grunt. "You coming, Ryan?" He held out his hand, which Ryan slapped.
"Sure. I've got Pre-Calc. It's on the way." Ryan squinted into the sun.
"No, it's not."
"I'll make it be on the way then."
"You know Atwood, you are just warming my heart these days."
ooooooooooooooooooooo
Summer and Seth sat too close during Chemistry, whispering and laughing quietly while they worked on the day's experiment, ignoring the glares from their teacher.
Between classes, Summer and Ryan trailed Seth to his locker, offering to vanquish his evil and unwieldy combination lock, and Ryan making good on his vow to carry Seth's books.
At one point, over Seth's protestations, Summer actually fell to her knees and tied his shoe. That drew a few glances and whispers.
Just what kind of relationship did they have, anyway?
At lunch, Seth sat outside in a secluded corner with Summer and Ryan. He picked at the cafeteria's Caesar salad-the least offensive-seeming meal he could find for his stomach-and struggled to find a comfortable position in his chair.
He was sore all over, and very decidedly not hungry.
"So, how'd it go?" Ryan asked.
"Nothing exciting for you to report to Mom and Dad." Seth's cell phone suddenly came alive in his bag. He dropped his fork on his tray and fished his phone out of his bag. "Talk amongst yourselves," he ordered. "Yeah, hey Dad...Nah, I'm good...salad...it's fine...No...no, really...well, once...yes, right after school..I know...I truly won't and could not forget with the sheer number of reminders you've given me..."
"How does he stay so...perky?" Summer leaned across the table and whispered to Ryan.
"A lot of practice at making a joke out of everything?" Ryan offered. "Sandy says it's a Cohen family tradition."
Summer smiled at Ryan as she tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. "I think I might love him," she whispered, so quietly Seth couldn't hear.
Ryan wasn't quite sure what to say to that.
Just as soon as Seth hit 'end call,' his ring tone sounded again.
"Hello? Oh, hey. Sup playa?" Seth paused, holding his hand over the mouthpiece. "My mom," he explained.
Summer looked up at Ryan after Seth had fully immersed himself in his phone call, a call which sounded eerily similar to the one he'd just ended with Sandy.
"You think he knows?" Summer asked, looking a little teary.
"I do," Ryan said softly. He thought about reaching across the table for Summer's hand, but held back, feeling awkward and a little unsure of himself.
It was helpful with Summer, that the boundaries were so clear, that she was his best friend's girlfriend and thus relegated to something like a sister status, but it still felt strange to bridge that physical gap.
Summer took a long slow breath. She herself reached across the table to squeeze Ryan's hand. She held his eye contact for a few long moments.
Ryan looked back at her.
A part of him couldn't help but think forward to the following week, when Seth wouldn't be at school, and Ryan's social circle would shrink to Summer and Luke and, in the complicated way that they were still connected, Marissa.
Summer's small hand squeezing his felt like an acknowledgment of that alliance, their group being down a member for some time.
While it was hard to imagine hanging out with Summer without Seth around, Ryan wasn't sure they had many other people outside each other at the moment.
"Well, good," Summer said after another moment, clearing her throat and straightening up in her chair, releasing Ryan's hand. "Just didn't want there to be any confusion." She stared down at her plate and started to pick at her salad.
oooooooooooooooooooo
Seth sat on a low concrete wall by the pick-up/drop-off circle, waiting for Sandy.
It had been an exhausting school day, but he'd managed to talk the nurse into letting him outside for the last fifteen minutes before dismissal, arguing that what his cancer truly needed was a healthy dose of fresh air before the drive to LA.
It turned out to be surprisingly effective, just saying the word cancer a lot when articulating a list of demands.
It got awkward, but he was a Cohen in the land of the WASPs; he was accustomed to most kinds of awkward; this was just a new one.
"What's up, queer?"
Perfect.
Seth glanced behind him to find three smirking wrestlers descending the concrete staircase, one in front and two behind, looking like a trio of neanderthal jocks straight out of a teen movie. All three of them also had a major height and weight advantage over Seth-and, to be fair, probably none of them had cancer-so he doubted very much that it would end particularly well for him.
And then there was the matter of his father, due to arrive at any moment.
Also perfect.
"Hey fellas," Seth said with a short wave.
"Listen, I don't know how much you paid Summer, or what bet she lost, but nobody's fooled, okay?" The ringleader, Brad, stopped in front of Seth and, reaching one long arm out, shoved him lightly where he sat.
Seth's usual counter-attacks were to throw out scathing one-liners while getting his ass kicked, or finding some alternate means of escape and/or evasion, but his brain felt foggy, not much up for either task.
Brad was still rambling, but the world was already a little fuzzy around the edges, so while he got the gist that it was pretty much a string of homophobic slurs with no real thesis statement other than You're gay, Does Summer know you're gay? and You're somehow both a virgin and someone who's had just a copious amount of gay sex, Seth couldn't really glean many further specifics.
He briefly pondered the benefits of passing out again.
It wouldn't exactly make him look like a pillar of masculinity, but fainting did have a way of throwing things into chaos.
Seth didn't know what any of them were saying anymore, but he did realize that there was suddenly a fist on a collision course with his chest.
And here he'd thought the situation couldn't possibly get any more perfect.
ooooooooooooooooo
Sandy pulled the Range Rover into the Harbor circle, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, eyes scanning the area for Seth.
His blood ran cold. Some punk had his hands on his kid, his sick kid.
He knew he shouldn't have let Seth go to school.
The kid pushed Seth roughly, who stumbled backwards. A second kid pulled him up by the shirt.
Sandy's fingers hit the window button desperately, the anger building up inside of him, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Hey! Get away from him!" He yelled, unbuckling his seatbelt and fumbling for the door handle, his eyes pooling up with tears of anger.
The kid looked up at him, smirking. He gave Seth one last shove and started walking up the steps, motioning for his two cronies to follow him.
Seth got up slowly, his eyes trained on the Range Rover, staring in disbelief at his father.
Sandy saw something in Seth's eyes that said he was considering fleeing, but he instead scooped up his bulging backpack and gingerly half-limped to the passenger side of the car.
ooooooooooooooooooo
Seth opened the car door and slid into his seat, not even looking at Sandy. His face was red-hot with embarrassment. He slid his hands discreetly around his body, as if trying to keep the pain in his stomach from spreading.
He felt a wave of nausea, maybe from the cancer, or maybe it was just a nice little manifestation of his utter humiliation.
School was hellish enough without being known as the guy who needed his dad to rescue him from the big bad bullies. It was embarrassing enough how everyone thought of Ryan as his protector.
Which yes, Ryan had kind of become his de facto protector, but also, Seth was more than well-versed in how to wait out a beating, and had been since well before Ryan arrived on the scene.
Eventually they would've gotten tired of him and moved on to something else.
He pressed his face up against the window, eyes staring dazedly out as the road sailed past him. He wondered what insults were going to be added to Brad's routine when he returned to school the next day.
Of course, he could always just not go to school. It wasn't like his mom could say he was faking it if he said he wasn't up to it, or like his parents hadn't been actively trying to talk him out of going in the first place.
So maybe he'd blow off school to play video games and sulk.
He still couldn't believe his dad had gone and yelled half-mad out the car window, like an overprotective soccer mom yelling at the bullies to get away from her baby.
Seth finally spared a glare in Sandy's direction, but stopped short.
His dad's hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his fingers were stark white and his chest was heaving up and down too quickly.
Seth felt a twinge of remorse.
And maybe a hint of concern that his dad was operating heavy machinery while looking like he was hyper-ventilating.
But more to the remorse thing, while Seth wasn't having a good time, his dad was most decidedly not having so much of the fun either, and all Seth could think about was how he'd get made fun of later.
As if he weren't going to get made fun of either way.
"You okay there, Big Guy?" Seth rasped out.
"What? I'm uh, I'm fine. Are..are you okay?" Sandy asked quietly, his voice as controlled as he could make it.
"Yeah..it wasn't too bad," Seth answered, slouching down low in his seat. "Coulda been worse." The throbbing of his ankle and the pain in his stomach begged to differ on that, but it was stiff upper lip time.
"Water polo?" Sandy asked, eyes flicking over to try and discern how much damage had been done.
"Wrestlers," Seth corrected. "Intimidated by my incredible manliness, as you can imagine."
Sandy laughed nervously. "I'll bet." He paused. "Look, I'm sorry if I..."
"It's no big deal," Seth cut in. "I'm fine. It's fine."
"So..you're okay?"
"Yeah, Dad, I really am."
"It's just..it's hard to see that and not..."
"I know. And it's fine. I promise." Seth shrugged. "We're cool. And St. Jude's will probably give you a medal for rescuing a cancer kid, so everybody wins."
Sandy visibly relaxed, letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
oooooooooooooooo
"Hey, Mom."
Kirsten was sitting at the kitchen table, trying to focus on the facts and figures laid out in front of her, but none of it was seeming to compute.
Seth put his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. He smiled faintly. His mom used rich lady shampoo that didn't smell like strawberries or apples or anything he could really pinpoint. He was almost sad it didn't.
"Hey, baby." Kirsten dropped her pen and threw her arm around Seth's waist, smiling as Seth gave her a light squeeze.
She had never been the most demonstrative mother, and Seth hadn't been the most demonstrative kid-at least not with her and what Seth referred to as her stilted WASP-y awkwardness-but in the days since Seth's diagnosis, she had felt that need for more closeness. Sandy had always teased her about how a pat on the shoulder was her go-to form of affection with the boys, but she'd found herself hugging Seth more, or running a hand through his hair when she walked by him on the couch.
And Seth, for his part, was being very tolerant.
Or maybe he needed it too, that extra connection.
Kirsten couldn't look at Seth without thinking about how he'd be away soon; the house quieter, no more pounding footsteps from the child who inexplicably felt the need to practically sprint up every flight of stairs he encountered.
"What are you up to?" Seth asked, staring curiously at the papers spread out on the table.
"Crunching numbers like a madwoman," Kirsten replied, a smile tracing her lips, one of the few she'd ever had in what seemed like forever, though it had really only been a few days.
It was certainly another way of trying to make her feel better, Seth was finally taking an interest in her job.
It was as appreciated as it was confusing, Seth being in this weird teenage in-between: needing Sandy and Kirsten like any sick child needed their parents, but also having that burgeoning awareness of what all this might be like for them as parents, and trying to soften it for them, trying to protect them from his suffering.
She still couldn't really gauge it, how worried Seth was, not after that first night that they'd talked in the hospital.
Kirsten rubbed Seth's lower back. "How was the hospital today, sweetheart?"
Seth shrugged. "It was okay." He snickered. "I hope you can take me next time though. Dad insisted on asking about a thousand questions."
"I'll make sure and clear my schedule just for you." Kirsten gave Seth another squeeze.
"Good."
Seth slid into the seat next to her.
Kirsten wanted to cry.
"Mom, is something wrong?" Seth paused. "Beyond the obvious, I mean."
"Everything's just...changing so fast." Kirsten sighed. "I woke up one morning and you were a man."
Seth nodded. "Yeah, I was at my bar mitzvah too," he said. He squinted, seeming to scrutinize her closely. "You know what you need?"
"What's that?"
"Well, first off you need to forget about work for now. Forget about me. Grab The Sandy and go out for a nice evening." Seth smiled, proud of his own idea.
"I don't know.."
"Look, I know you guys don't want to leave me here. You've been looking for every excuse to hang out at home. But you need a night off right now. Things are changing. So have one night where everything can just be the same. You and Dad being gross and acting like lovesick college kids." Seth paused. "I mean, why not?"
Kirsten's lips traced into a smile, thinking about just how much Seth had grown up in the past year.
"Besides, you would not want to break the reservations I was kind enough to make for you. The Cabin at seven." Seth held up a hand in warning. "And if you take this opportunity to tell me how much like Dad I am, I might just blow chunks. And that would completely ruin this tender mother/son moment we're having right now. And neither one of us wants that, do we?"
"I love you, Seth."
Seth ducked his head shyly. "I love you too, Mom."
"Seven, you said?" Kirsten really wasn't sure she could muster up much enthusiasm for an evening out, but Seth looked so earnest and hopeful that she didn't want to disappoint him.
"Yeah, seven. I paid for it with Grandpa's credit card." Seth waggled his eyebrows. "You don't think he'd hit a guy with can-curly hair, do ya?"
"I don't think so." Kirsten looked away.
"Okay, so you can go get ready. I got Ryan involved in this little scheme, and he agreed to make us some grilled cheese-he's a master chef, as you know-and basically wait on me hand and foot. So your position is filled for the evening. We'll play some video games and hang out." Seth paused. "Sound good?"
"Fantastic." Kirsten stood up, and kissed the top of his head. "You are just full of surprises, Seth."
Seth watched her walk away, smiling to himself. He'd secured an evening of Seth/Ryan time sans parental hovering, and he'd provided his parents a clearly much needed break from said hovering.
Everybody wins, he figured.