OC Fic: Rules
Title: Rules
Part 1 of 2 because LJ hates length
Summary: The Cohens believe in education, and in setting rules.
Author: ChaseII
Story Rating: PG 13 (minor language)
Disclaimer: The OC Universe, with all its assorted characters, belongs to Josh Schwartz, et. al. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended, nor is any money being made.
A/N: This is an old story, written way back in Season One, which I never posted. Given the 'OCitagain' universe is reliving Season 1, and we've just started Harbor, I brushed it off, and thought I'd offer it to anyone who might be interested in a little S1 Cohen+1 fluff -- all I ask it that you remember as you're reading -- it was an early effort! ;)
It's also quite unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine.
The Rules
Ryan looked up from the sports page as he heard the front door open, that sound followed closely by Sandy’s and Kirsten’s laughter. Body tensing, he wanted nothing more than to abandon his perch on the bar stool, and retreat to the safety of the pool house.
Footsteps sounded down the hallway as the adult Cohens headed to the back of the house. Fighting all his instincts, Ryan molded himself to his seat. He couldn’t always depend on Seth to act as his buffer with the Cohens. If he were going to live here, he’d better figure out how to deal with Seth’s parents on his own. With any luck, they’d be catching up with one another anyway, so that their focus wouldn’t settle on him.
Ryan deliberately ducked his head, pretending to read the sports section as his guardians rounded the corner.
Kirsten was the first to notice that he was seated at the breakfast bar.
“Hi, Ryan,” she said warmly as she approached the counter and tossed her keys and purse down. She peered into the den before asking, “Where’s Seth?”
Ryan quickly checked out his guardians from the shield the newspaper afforded him.
It was more than just habit, this practice of surveying the emotional territory before walking into any conversation. For most of his life it had been a matter of survival.
Right now? The territory felt safe. A little unnerving without Seth there to run interference, but still safe.
He raised his head, taken off-guard by the smile Kirsten gave him as he met her eyes.
Self-consciously, Ryan gave her a half-smile back, “Sorry, I don’t know.”
Looking past Kirsten to see Sandy lounging with his back against the counter , Ryan couldn’t help but notice the contrast between his guardians’ appearance. Kirsten was immaculate, dressed in what he was sure must be some designer pantsuit, her hair and make-up perfect. She was every inch ‘A Woman to be Reckoned With’. And Ryan should know - she’d ‘reckoned’ with him on more than one occasion.
Sandy, on the other hand, looked a little haphazardly put together, as though he just couldn’t be bothered. It wasn’t that he wasn’t wearing an expensive suit, or that his tie didn’t go with his shirt, or that his shoes weren’t polished, or anything specific you could point to.
It was just the total package - it never failed - the guy’s tie might be loosened, his hair might look a week or two past due for a trim, his posture might seem careless, or maybe it was just those amazing eyebrows that made him look like he just didn’t give a shit. Whatever - the imperfections made the man approachable.
Right now, the massive eyebrows were quirking good-naturedly as Sandy leaned lazily back against the counter in front of the dishwasher. Catching his wife’s attention, he mocked, “Don’t worry, honey. Seth’ll be home in time for dinner - he doesn’t miss too many meals. And you know how much he loves your take-out.”
Kirsten looked at her husband and smirked.
To Ryan’s surprise, Kirsten turned to him, “Well, if Seth isn’t home, and Sandy is making fun of me, what say you and I choose dinner tonight, hmm?”
Ryan grinned, for once pretty sure he knew exactly what Kirsten was thinking. “Mexican?”
Sandy groaned, “Uh, then what if I make fajitas on the grill?”
Kirsten shook her head, “Far too tame. You and Seth can just suck it up, honey. Ryan and I love the jalapenos and hot sauce, and your fajitas, while wonderful, aren’t what we’ve got in mind for tonight, right, Ryan?”
“I’m thinking we like Taco Rosa,” he replied, reminding himself that Kirsten didn’t have the same guilt issues with their pricey menu that he had. And their food? Awesome.
“Taco Rosa it is!” an enthusiastic Kirsten agreed.
She was about to go place their order when she stopped in her tracks, obviously noticing that the table was set with placemats, glasses, and silverware. He’d done it before starting on the paper, trying hard to make himself useful. He knew it wasn’t much, but it was something.
“Thanks, Ryan,” Kirsten said softly, touching him on the arm lightly as she passed beside him.
He barely stopped himself from flinching as her fingers grazed his skin. Damn. He didn’t want her to regret her impulsive gestures. They felt like little gifts - gentle unexpected treasures. He had to learn to control his reactions - to remember that an adult could touch him without hurting.
“No problem,” he managed to reply, embarrassed. The quick smile he offered was from the heart.
/////
Sandy cocked his head, observing the fleeting smile from his foster-son with interest. He wondered if his wife had any idea how easily her simplest actions could reach the boy.
Not surprisingly, Ryan turned back to the sports section as soon as Kirsten left the room to place their order. He expected the boy was hoping that he’d be left to his reading, feeling a little sorry for the teenager whose silences were so often crowded by all their words.
Kirsten could probably understand Ryan’s comfort with quiet far better than he ever would, but this much he knew. However much the kid preferred silence, there would be times when he would have to deal with Cohen noise.
Like now.
“Ryan?”
Sandy watched his foster soon closely as the boy looked up, head and all. The kid raised his eyebrows, and waited. Typical of this teen to respond nonverbally, in such contrast to Seth.
Shaking off the comparison, Sandy said, “I thought we should talk about school.”
Ryan frowned, clearly not sure where this was going.
However, when the teenager didn’t make any visible effort to escape, Sandy continued.
“More specifically, we need to discuss the rules we expect you to follow.”
Ryan shoved the newspaper away, and sat up straighter on the stool, his hands clutching the edges of the countertop. “Rules…,” he repeated. “So, since Seth isn’t here, are you talking… That is, uh… these are rules for me? My rules?”
The words were spoken quietly, but the tone carried a slight edge. The boy’s eyes were more transparent… and for the moment they were actually focused on Sandy - not past him, or down at some spot on the counter or the floor.
Sandy noted that the blue eyes were unsettled, with a hint of irritation. Hoping to defuse any anxiety the kid might be feeling about being singled out for this discussion, he surged ahead.
Keeping his voice neutral, he clarified, “School rules. It’s what parents do - we set rules. Seth knows the rules - you don’t. And it’s time you did, ‘cause we’re serious about education around this house, my friend.”
Sandy watched Ryan’s eyes widen, and saw a hint of pink creep into his face. The boy dropped his head, and then looked back up a bit sheepishly.
“Um, I .. sorry.” He shrugged and looked quizzically at Sandy, asking obligingly, “So, okay - what are your rules?”
Kirsten came back into the kitchen, having made the take-out order and stashed her jacket and purse in the master-bedroom.
“Did I hear the word ‘rules’?” she asked cheerfully, winking at Sandy. “As in school rules?” She beamed, clearly prepared to enjoy the ensuing discussion.
“Okay, so now you guys are scaring me,” Ryan noted wryly, looking from one to the other.
Sandy chuckled, catching Kirsten’s eye. She joined him in his response, as they grinned in perfect unison, “We’re okay with that.”
The teenager sighed and shook his head. He settled back in the stool, and folded his arms across his chest, appearing more amused than concerned.
However, the boy’s words were cautionary, “You do know, rules and Atwoods aren’t always the best combination.”
Before Sandy could respond, Kirsten jumped in.
“That was the past,” she observed, her voice offering no room for compromise.
Ryan ducked his head as he nodded, “The past. Riiiiight.”
“Right,” Sandy echoed firmly, before he started, “Rule # 1: Attendance is mandatory, unless you’re sick - and we mean really sick, not just ‘I don’t want to go / I can’t face the test / I can’t do the presentation / I don’t want to deal with the teacher / I refuse to talk to a classmate’ type of sick. You get the picture…
The boy had raised his head, and nodded ever so slightly as Sandy paused.
After a beat, Kirsten chimed in, contributing, “Rule # 2: School is your most important undertaking during the academic year. That means homework comes before any TV or telephone or video games. Social and extra-curricular activities are permitted only to the extent they don’t interfere with your ability to keep up with your classes and complete your assignments. And there will be no jobs during the school year - you can work in the summer if you want, but we won’t allow the distraction during terms.”
Ryan frowned at the ‘jobs’ mention, but held his tongue.
Sandy took over the tag-team effort with “Rule # 3: We expect you to treat your teachers and school administrators with respect and courtesy. They are there to help you - they are not the enemy.”
He noticed Ryan’s flinch at the term ‘administrators’ - the kid clearly wasn’t fond of Dr. Kim. Worse, the boy was already treading on some pretty thin ice with the prickly head of Harbor.
His voice was firm as he cautioned, “I understand that your dealings with Dr. Kim have not been particularly easy or pleasant, and if I’m honest, I find her difficult to deal with sometimes, too. Still, we expect you to be respectful and courteous to her. Clear?”
The teenager’s arms wrapped loosely around his body as he responded with a soft, “Yes, sir.”
Sandy instantly regretted his tone. After all, the kid’s patience had been tested by the woman already, and he’d been unfailingly polite. The kid’s reversion to his defensive posture, coupled with the unexpected ‘sir’ was a bit unsettling.
“I believe you,” he assured the teenager warmly. “And just so you know - what I just said? About being respectful? I’ve said to Seth as well.”
Ryan blinked, and nodded, but his arms stayed in place around his midriff.
Kirsten had been pulling plates out of the cupboard, and set them on the counter as she took over once again, “Rule # 4: Remember, we’re the parents. Come to us when you have any issues with your teachers or classes. Let us know if you need help, or if something is wrong.”
Sandy observed his wife move closer to Ryan before she continued speaking. Ryan’s eyes followed every movement, as the kid seemed to be assessing her words.
Kirsten touched Ryan’s arm as she said gently, “We really do believe school is important, and we’ve always tried to be actively involved with Harbor in supporting Seth….and now that’s going to extend to you, too, hon. You know, all the usual things…parent/teacher conferences, school events, parent days…you’ll be mortified, I’m sure. If it’s any comfort, I can assure you that Seth is constantly embarrassed.”
She stopped talking, as though she suddenly feared that their type of school-involvement might seem entirely too much for their guarded foster-son to handle.
Sandy watched as the teenager looked up at Kirsten thoughtfully.
As the teen was prone to do, upon making eye contact, he dropped his head, staring intently at the counter top.
The boy slowly unwrapped his arms.
When he spoke, his words were almost too soft to understand.
“It sounds kinda’… nice.”
//////
Ryan lifted his head in time to see the look Sandy and Kirsten exchanged. He wondered if Seth had any idea how lucky he was to have these two as parents.
Funny - Seth hated to see his parents show affection. But to Ryan it offered comfort, security, and strength. The obvious love and respect the Cohens felt for one another was different from anything Ryan had ever witnessed first-hand. And so compelling he actually felt it viscerally sometimes, like just then.
“So, is that it?” he asked when neither Cohen seemed inclined to continue the list of rules. He raised his eyebrows for emphasis, prepared to abandon the stool.
Sandy held up a hand in a ‘halt’ signal, and resumed, “One more rule. And it’s a big one. Rule # 5: With respect to performance, we expect you to make your best effort. If it’s clear you’ve done your best, we won’t come down on you about your grades. What we will do, if you’re struggling, is help you or get you tutors if that’s what’s in order. However, no slacking permitted. Education can be a great equalizer… or not. What I’m saying is this - you’re an incredibly smart kid, Ryan. Use your head, and take full advantage of everything Harbor has to offer.”
Ryan nodded, wondering what he was supposed to say. Hell if he knew, because what Sandy said just then about Harbor and taking advantage? That wasn’t gonna’ happen. How could it?
They were about to pay butt-loads of money for him to take courses designed for kids who were academically challenged. And they were still talking about tutors and shit? Ungrateful as the feeling might be, it sorta’ ticked him off. Enough to loosen his tongue.
“So, where does taking remedial level classes fit in with taking advantage of everything Harbor has to offer?” he asked, a hint of the bitterness he was feeling coloring his voice.
/////
Sandy was not entirely surprised. When they had discussed his classes for first term, Dr. Kim had suggested that Ryan only sign up for the lowest level math, science, English, and history classes at Harbor.
While his results on the placement and preparedness exams had been surprisingly high, Dr. Kim had suggested that since this was the first term at a new, presumably more difficult school, and since Ryan’s grades had been only so-so at the public schools he had attended, advanced placement courses would be too much to expect of the teenager, and even normal course-work could be a stretch. She’d suggested Ryan start with basic math, science, history, and English courses.
At the time, typical of the youth, he had not indicated any preference, seeming more anxious to escape the attention of the formidable Dr. Kim than to talk through his options. Ryan had been far less than articulate that day, Sandy recalled. Something along the lines of “I think I…that is..I..um…I’ll do whatever you guys want me to do. Sign me up for whatever you think I should take, okay? May I go now? Please?”
//////
Ryan waited for Sandy’s response. For once, he did not drop eye-contact with his guardian.
He wondered if Sandy would admit what he had to be thinking. That he wasn’t up for the classes that would really matter in terms of a future. That he couldn’t possibly compete with the best and brightest at Harbor, when he couldn’t even compete with the best and brightest in Chino.
Sandy’s voice was soothing as he responded. “I was in the same meeting you were in, Ryan. Dr. Kim was simply concerned that with all the changes, and the new school, that it was unfair to you to ask you to step into some pretty tough courses right away. There’s nothing wrong with taking this one step at a time - you can always switch into more challenging courses later.”
“Look, I’m not saying I wanna’ start in the AP program or anything, but what if I want to take a normal sophomore course-load? No remedial class-work. Maybe I could even take some more advanced math, like pre-calculus?” Ryan challenged, not sure that he did, but needing to hear the answer anyway.
Kirsten answered quietly, “We’d respect your decision, and support you. If that’s what you really want.”
Ryan looked at Sandy, who nodded his confirmation.
Sandy then spoke, “But understand that the rules we talked about would still apply. We’ll get you tutors if you need them, and help where we can, but you may be letting yourself in for some hard work. That said, if you’re want to give it a go, then I’ll call Dr. Kim in the morning, and we’ll go over to Harbor and redo the schedule. And if it’s too much, we can always talk to the administration about switching again.”
“Hard work doesn’t scare me,” Ryan countered, surprising himself by adding, “I want to do this. I want to take advantage of what you’re offering, like you said.”
/////
Sandy studied the teenager, certain that there were reasons Ryan had gotten only mediocre grades in his old school. Reasons that the boy wasn’t ready - or able - to talk about. Not yet. Too much pain, too many bad memories, too little security.
He smiled, “Well, okay then. Normal sophomore curriculum it shall be. Let’s go see the Dragon Lady!”
tbc --(see part 2)
Part 1 of 2 because LJ hates length
Summary: The Cohens believe in education, and in setting rules.
Author: ChaseII
Story Rating: PG 13 (minor language)
Disclaimer: The OC Universe, with all its assorted characters, belongs to Josh Schwartz, et. al. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended, nor is any money being made.
A/N: This is an old story, written way back in Season One, which I never posted. Given the 'OCitagain' universe is reliving Season 1, and we've just started Harbor, I brushed it off, and thought I'd offer it to anyone who might be interested in a little S1 Cohen+1 fluff -- all I ask it that you remember as you're reading -- it was an early effort! ;)
It's also quite unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine.
The Rules
Ryan looked up from the sports page as he heard the front door open, that sound followed closely by Sandy’s and Kirsten’s laughter. Body tensing, he wanted nothing more than to abandon his perch on the bar stool, and retreat to the safety of the pool house.
Footsteps sounded down the hallway as the adult Cohens headed to the back of the house. Fighting all his instincts, Ryan molded himself to his seat. He couldn’t always depend on Seth to act as his buffer with the Cohens. If he were going to live here, he’d better figure out how to deal with Seth’s parents on his own. With any luck, they’d be catching up with one another anyway, so that their focus wouldn’t settle on him.
Ryan deliberately ducked his head, pretending to read the sports section as his guardians rounded the corner.
Kirsten was the first to notice that he was seated at the breakfast bar.
“Hi, Ryan,” she said warmly as she approached the counter and tossed her keys and purse down. She peered into the den before asking, “Where’s Seth?”
Ryan quickly checked out his guardians from the shield the newspaper afforded him.
It was more than just habit, this practice of surveying the emotional territory before walking into any conversation. For most of his life it had been a matter of survival.
Right now? The territory felt safe. A little unnerving without Seth there to run interference, but still safe.
He raised his head, taken off-guard by the smile Kirsten gave him as he met her eyes.
Self-consciously, Ryan gave her a half-smile back, “Sorry, I don’t know.”
Looking past Kirsten to see Sandy lounging with his back against the counter , Ryan couldn’t help but notice the contrast between his guardians’ appearance. Kirsten was immaculate, dressed in what he was sure must be some designer pantsuit, her hair and make-up perfect. She was every inch ‘A Woman to be Reckoned With’. And Ryan should know - she’d ‘reckoned’ with him on more than one occasion.
Sandy, on the other hand, looked a little haphazardly put together, as though he just couldn’t be bothered. It wasn’t that he wasn’t wearing an expensive suit, or that his tie didn’t go with his shirt, or that his shoes weren’t polished, or anything specific you could point to.
It was just the total package - it never failed - the guy’s tie might be loosened, his hair might look a week or two past due for a trim, his posture might seem careless, or maybe it was just those amazing eyebrows that made him look like he just didn’t give a shit. Whatever - the imperfections made the man approachable.
Right now, the massive eyebrows were quirking good-naturedly as Sandy leaned lazily back against the counter in front of the dishwasher. Catching his wife’s attention, he mocked, “Don’t worry, honey. Seth’ll be home in time for dinner - he doesn’t miss too many meals. And you know how much he loves your take-out.”
Kirsten looked at her husband and smirked.
To Ryan’s surprise, Kirsten turned to him, “Well, if Seth isn’t home, and Sandy is making fun of me, what say you and I choose dinner tonight, hmm?”
Ryan grinned, for once pretty sure he knew exactly what Kirsten was thinking. “Mexican?”
Sandy groaned, “Uh, then what if I make fajitas on the grill?”
Kirsten shook her head, “Far too tame. You and Seth can just suck it up, honey. Ryan and I love the jalapenos and hot sauce, and your fajitas, while wonderful, aren’t what we’ve got in mind for tonight, right, Ryan?”
“I’m thinking we like Taco Rosa,” he replied, reminding himself that Kirsten didn’t have the same guilt issues with their pricey menu that he had. And their food? Awesome.
“Taco Rosa it is!” an enthusiastic Kirsten agreed.
She was about to go place their order when she stopped in her tracks, obviously noticing that the table was set with placemats, glasses, and silverware. He’d done it before starting on the paper, trying hard to make himself useful. He knew it wasn’t much, but it was something.
“Thanks, Ryan,” Kirsten said softly, touching him on the arm lightly as she passed beside him.
He barely stopped himself from flinching as her fingers grazed his skin. Damn. He didn’t want her to regret her impulsive gestures. They felt like little gifts - gentle unexpected treasures. He had to learn to control his reactions - to remember that an adult could touch him without hurting.
“No problem,” he managed to reply, embarrassed. The quick smile he offered was from the heart.
/////
Sandy cocked his head, observing the fleeting smile from his foster-son with interest. He wondered if his wife had any idea how easily her simplest actions could reach the boy.
Not surprisingly, Ryan turned back to the sports section as soon as Kirsten left the room to place their order. He expected the boy was hoping that he’d be left to his reading, feeling a little sorry for the teenager whose silences were so often crowded by all their words.
Kirsten could probably understand Ryan’s comfort with quiet far better than he ever would, but this much he knew. However much the kid preferred silence, there would be times when he would have to deal with Cohen noise.
Like now.
“Ryan?”
Sandy watched his foster soon closely as the boy looked up, head and all. The kid raised his eyebrows, and waited. Typical of this teen to respond nonverbally, in such contrast to Seth.
Shaking off the comparison, Sandy said, “I thought we should talk about school.”
Ryan frowned, clearly not sure where this was going.
However, when the teenager didn’t make any visible effort to escape, Sandy continued.
“More specifically, we need to discuss the rules we expect you to follow.”
Ryan shoved the newspaper away, and sat up straighter on the stool, his hands clutching the edges of the countertop. “Rules…,” he repeated. “So, since Seth isn’t here, are you talking… That is, uh… these are rules for me? My rules?”
The words were spoken quietly, but the tone carried a slight edge. The boy’s eyes were more transparent… and for the moment they were actually focused on Sandy - not past him, or down at some spot on the counter or the floor.
Sandy noted that the blue eyes were unsettled, with a hint of irritation. Hoping to defuse any anxiety the kid might be feeling about being singled out for this discussion, he surged ahead.
Keeping his voice neutral, he clarified, “School rules. It’s what parents do - we set rules. Seth knows the rules - you don’t. And it’s time you did, ‘cause we’re serious about education around this house, my friend.”
Sandy watched Ryan’s eyes widen, and saw a hint of pink creep into his face. The boy dropped his head, and then looked back up a bit sheepishly.
“Um, I .. sorry.” He shrugged and looked quizzically at Sandy, asking obligingly, “So, okay - what are your rules?”
Kirsten came back into the kitchen, having made the take-out order and stashed her jacket and purse in the master-bedroom.
“Did I hear the word ‘rules’?” she asked cheerfully, winking at Sandy. “As in school rules?” She beamed, clearly prepared to enjoy the ensuing discussion.
“Okay, so now you guys are scaring me,” Ryan noted wryly, looking from one to the other.
Sandy chuckled, catching Kirsten’s eye. She joined him in his response, as they grinned in perfect unison, “We’re okay with that.”
The teenager sighed and shook his head. He settled back in the stool, and folded his arms across his chest, appearing more amused than concerned.
However, the boy’s words were cautionary, “You do know, rules and Atwoods aren’t always the best combination.”
Before Sandy could respond, Kirsten jumped in.
“That was the past,” she observed, her voice offering no room for compromise.
Ryan ducked his head as he nodded, “The past. Riiiiight.”
“Right,” Sandy echoed firmly, before he started, “Rule # 1: Attendance is mandatory, unless you’re sick - and we mean really sick, not just ‘I don’t want to go / I can’t face the test / I can’t do the presentation / I don’t want to deal with the teacher / I refuse to talk to a classmate’ type of sick. You get the picture…
The boy had raised his head, and nodded ever so slightly as Sandy paused.
After a beat, Kirsten chimed in, contributing, “Rule # 2: School is your most important undertaking during the academic year. That means homework comes before any TV or telephone or video games. Social and extra-curricular activities are permitted only to the extent they don’t interfere with your ability to keep up with your classes and complete your assignments. And there will be no jobs during the school year - you can work in the summer if you want, but we won’t allow the distraction during terms.”
Ryan frowned at the ‘jobs’ mention, but held his tongue.
Sandy took over the tag-team effort with “Rule # 3: We expect you to treat your teachers and school administrators with respect and courtesy. They are there to help you - they are not the enemy.”
He noticed Ryan’s flinch at the term ‘administrators’ - the kid clearly wasn’t fond of Dr. Kim. Worse, the boy was already treading on some pretty thin ice with the prickly head of Harbor.
His voice was firm as he cautioned, “I understand that your dealings with Dr. Kim have not been particularly easy or pleasant, and if I’m honest, I find her difficult to deal with sometimes, too. Still, we expect you to be respectful and courteous to her. Clear?”
The teenager’s arms wrapped loosely around his body as he responded with a soft, “Yes, sir.”
Sandy instantly regretted his tone. After all, the kid’s patience had been tested by the woman already, and he’d been unfailingly polite. The kid’s reversion to his defensive posture, coupled with the unexpected ‘sir’ was a bit unsettling.
“I believe you,” he assured the teenager warmly. “And just so you know - what I just said? About being respectful? I’ve said to Seth as well.”
Ryan blinked, and nodded, but his arms stayed in place around his midriff.
Kirsten had been pulling plates out of the cupboard, and set them on the counter as she took over once again, “Rule # 4: Remember, we’re the parents. Come to us when you have any issues with your teachers or classes. Let us know if you need help, or if something is wrong.”
Sandy observed his wife move closer to Ryan before she continued speaking. Ryan’s eyes followed every movement, as the kid seemed to be assessing her words.
Kirsten touched Ryan’s arm as she said gently, “We really do believe school is important, and we’ve always tried to be actively involved with Harbor in supporting Seth….and now that’s going to extend to you, too, hon. You know, all the usual things…parent/teacher conferences, school events, parent days…you’ll be mortified, I’m sure. If it’s any comfort, I can assure you that Seth is constantly embarrassed.”
She stopped talking, as though she suddenly feared that their type of school-involvement might seem entirely too much for their guarded foster-son to handle.
Sandy watched as the teenager looked up at Kirsten thoughtfully.
As the teen was prone to do, upon making eye contact, he dropped his head, staring intently at the counter top.
The boy slowly unwrapped his arms.
When he spoke, his words were almost too soft to understand.
“It sounds kinda’… nice.”
//////
Ryan lifted his head in time to see the look Sandy and Kirsten exchanged. He wondered if Seth had any idea how lucky he was to have these two as parents.
Funny - Seth hated to see his parents show affection. But to Ryan it offered comfort, security, and strength. The obvious love and respect the Cohens felt for one another was different from anything Ryan had ever witnessed first-hand. And so compelling he actually felt it viscerally sometimes, like just then.
“So, is that it?” he asked when neither Cohen seemed inclined to continue the list of rules. He raised his eyebrows for emphasis, prepared to abandon the stool.
Sandy held up a hand in a ‘halt’ signal, and resumed, “One more rule. And it’s a big one. Rule # 5: With respect to performance, we expect you to make your best effort. If it’s clear you’ve done your best, we won’t come down on you about your grades. What we will do, if you’re struggling, is help you or get you tutors if that’s what’s in order. However, no slacking permitted. Education can be a great equalizer… or not. What I’m saying is this - you’re an incredibly smart kid, Ryan. Use your head, and take full advantage of everything Harbor has to offer.”
Ryan nodded, wondering what he was supposed to say. Hell if he knew, because what Sandy said just then about Harbor and taking advantage? That wasn’t gonna’ happen. How could it?
They were about to pay butt-loads of money for him to take courses designed for kids who were academically challenged. And they were still talking about tutors and shit? Ungrateful as the feeling might be, it sorta’ ticked him off. Enough to loosen his tongue.
“So, where does taking remedial level classes fit in with taking advantage of everything Harbor has to offer?” he asked, a hint of the bitterness he was feeling coloring his voice.
/////
Sandy was not entirely surprised. When they had discussed his classes for first term, Dr. Kim had suggested that Ryan only sign up for the lowest level math, science, English, and history classes at Harbor.
While his results on the placement and preparedness exams had been surprisingly high, Dr. Kim had suggested that since this was the first term at a new, presumably more difficult school, and since Ryan’s grades had been only so-so at the public schools he had attended, advanced placement courses would be too much to expect of the teenager, and even normal course-work could be a stretch. She’d suggested Ryan start with basic math, science, history, and English courses.
At the time, typical of the youth, he had not indicated any preference, seeming more anxious to escape the attention of the formidable Dr. Kim than to talk through his options. Ryan had been far less than articulate that day, Sandy recalled. Something along the lines of “I think I…that is..I..um…I’ll do whatever you guys want me to do. Sign me up for whatever you think I should take, okay? May I go now? Please?”
//////
Ryan waited for Sandy’s response. For once, he did not drop eye-contact with his guardian.
He wondered if Sandy would admit what he had to be thinking. That he wasn’t up for the classes that would really matter in terms of a future. That he couldn’t possibly compete with the best and brightest at Harbor, when he couldn’t even compete with the best and brightest in Chino.
Sandy’s voice was soothing as he responded. “I was in the same meeting you were in, Ryan. Dr. Kim was simply concerned that with all the changes, and the new school, that it was unfair to you to ask you to step into some pretty tough courses right away. There’s nothing wrong with taking this one step at a time - you can always switch into more challenging courses later.”
“Look, I’m not saying I wanna’ start in the AP program or anything, but what if I want to take a normal sophomore course-load? No remedial class-work. Maybe I could even take some more advanced math, like pre-calculus?” Ryan challenged, not sure that he did, but needing to hear the answer anyway.
Kirsten answered quietly, “We’d respect your decision, and support you. If that’s what you really want.”
Ryan looked at Sandy, who nodded his confirmation.
Sandy then spoke, “But understand that the rules we talked about would still apply. We’ll get you tutors if you need them, and help where we can, but you may be letting yourself in for some hard work. That said, if you’re want to give it a go, then I’ll call Dr. Kim in the morning, and we’ll go over to Harbor and redo the schedule. And if it’s too much, we can always talk to the administration about switching again.”
“Hard work doesn’t scare me,” Ryan countered, surprising himself by adding, “I want to do this. I want to take advantage of what you’re offering, like you said.”
/////
Sandy studied the teenager, certain that there were reasons Ryan had gotten only mediocre grades in his old school. Reasons that the boy wasn’t ready - or able - to talk about. Not yet. Too much pain, too many bad memories, too little security.
He smiled, “Well, okay then. Normal sophomore curriculum it shall be. Let’s go see the Dragon Lady!”
tbc --(see part 2)