OC Fic - OCSFC3 (story #1)
Happy birthday, ctoan!! Hope you'll have a great day.
On to the fic :
Title : Sex, Drugs and Rock'N'Roll Sex, Alcohol and a Funeral
Author : Helen C.
Summary : Unfortunately, eventually Ryan has to venture into the world.
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Rating : R
A/N. Written for areyouannie, who requested "Ryan meets Alex after Marissa's death in the finale." Hope you'll like it!
Many thanks to joey51 for beta'ing this! As usual, I tinkered. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Sex, Drugs and Rock'N'Roll Sex, Alcohol and a Funeral
Helen C.
When Marissa stops breathing, time slows.
Then stops.
Ryan spends an eternity kneeling there, her body in his arms.
Waiting.
She weighs almost nothing.
***
When the cops and the medics arrive, time starts moving in fast forward.
There are lights flashing, people yelling at each other, people talking to him.
Every sound, every word cuts through his brain, through his skin.
Shattering the quiet.
Making him bleed.
***
The cops spend about five minutes convincing Ryan to let go of Marissa. When he finally does, it feels like all the warmth he ever felt is gone, leaving behind a bone-deep cold.
Ryan prefers it that way.
The cold numbs him, keeps the pain at bay.
The medics take a look at his scratches, shine a penlight in his eyes, frown at his recoil and talk him into going to the hospital.
An hour later, once the doctors are done poking him and coming up with new tests, Sandy enters his room, disheveled and red-eyed. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, taking Ryan's hand. There's nothing to say, so Ryan keeps quiet, allowing Sandy to come sit next to him, obediently closing his eyes when Sandy tells him to sleep.
***
After two days, the doctors seem satisfied that he's not going to die anytime soon and release him. As soon as Sandy stops the car in front of the house, Kirsten gets out, helps Ryan out of the house, guides him inside, whispering that she prepared a room for him inside, and she'd feel better if he stayed in, does he mind?
He doesn't.
Seth is waiting for him in the room. He rises to his feet when Ryan enters, and they face each other for a few awkward moments before Seth pulls him into a no-less awkward hug.
Seth doesn't say a word when he lets go of Ryan. He just stands there as Ryan lies down on top of the covers, fully clothed, careful not to let his shoes touch the fresh sheets.
Seth watches him for a while before speaking. "You're gonna be uncomfortable like that." Ryan doesn't care, but he still allows Seth to unlace his shoes and take them off, and lifts his legs on the bed.
"You okay?" Seth asks. There's a pause before Ryan hears a muttered, "Right, 'cause that's not the stupidest question ever."
I'm cold, Ryan wants to say.
It doesn't make much sense, so he doesn't speak, instead shifting to the center of the bed, making room for Seth to sit down next to him.
Seth has been downright silent since the accident; he didn't even tease Ryan about sponge baths or cute nurses when he visited in the hospital.
That's okay. Ryan appreciates the quiet.
***
The next day, all the Cohens and Ryan go to the funeral.
Ryan's surprised by the number of people who attend. Marissa had lost a lot of her friends in the last three years, but obviously no one wanted to miss the week's big event.
He feels like throwing up all of a sudden, and only Summer embracing him keeps him from running from this place and going back to bed. Then Taylor joins them, and they all sit together, away from the adults and from their peers, silent through the whole thing.
Ryan still feels cold, hasn't been able to warm up since the accident.
At least that way, he doesn't have to feel when Julie starts sobbing, when Summer leans into Seth, when Taylor sniffs and looks away.
When they bury his girlfriend.
***
For three weeks, Ryan feels numb.
He's aware of Summer and Seth, talking in quiet tones as soon as he leaves a room.
He's aware of Sandy and Kirsten's concern.
I'm fine, he wants to tell them. I don't hurt.
He knows that it wouldn't reassure them in the least.
***
Summer makes a few attempts to ask about Marissa's final moments. Ryan can actually feel his brain shut down whenever she does-as if it's too dangerous to venture into those waters and some part of him is trying to protect him from a pain too raw, too fresh to deal with.
Taylor tries to coax him into hanging out with her and Sung-Ho, but they scare him a little so he politely declines.
Sandy tries to convince him to start looking for furniture for the apartment he's going to rent in Berkeley, but Ryan can't even remember what it felt like to be excited about College, so he smiles and says, "Later."
Seth tries to take him to the pier, or to the movies, or to… anywhere, but Ryan doesn’t want to leave the house. He doesn't want to see that the world is still turning, when Marissa is still lying in his arms, broken, scared. Dying.
Kirsten asks him to help her in the garden. Ryan ponders the suggestion for a few moments before nodding. Kirsten is safe; she's the only one who doesn't look at him like he's the one who's broken, the only one who doesn't push him to talk. She just listens, and maybe, just maybe, she understands his silence.
***
Unfortunately, eventually Ryan has to venture into the world. He's alone with Kirsten, she has a headache and there's no Tylenol anymore, and he doesn't want to let her suffer for hours just to indulge in his self-imposed exile.
So, he goes to the drugstore, and when he steps out, he bumps into Alex, and it turns out he was right to avoid leaving the house after all.
It all comes back to him with the sickening violence of a punch in the gut-the last time he saw Alex, Marissa was with him. They lit a bonfire on the beach, and for a little while, they were actually at peace.
The last time he saw Alex, Marissa wasn't lying in his arms, blood trickling down her face.
The last time he saw Alex, Marissa was still alive.
"You okay, Atwood? You look like you've seen a ghost," Alex says.
He stumbles away from her, leans over and throws up on the sidewalk, clutching the drugstore bag in his hand as if it was a lifeline.
He hears a disgusted noise behind him, and a sarcastic, "Why do I always have that effect on people?" and when Ryan straightens up, gasping, teary-eyed, a bottle of water appears in front of his face.
"Keep it," Alex orders.
She spins on her heels-her very high, very thin heels, Ryan notices distantly-and leaves him standing there.
He's sick two more times before he feels well enough to drive back to the house.
***
When Ryan arrives home, he hands the Tylenol to Kirsten and cuts off any question with a curt, "I'm going for a walk."
He leaves without waiting for an answer, hurries down the path to the beach, only stopping to take off his shoes and his socks, and starts walking on the sand.
When it starts getting dark-two hours later? Three hours?-he sits on the sand, faces the ocean, and.
Just stays there.
Not thinking, not moving, not waiting.
Not feeling.
He doesn't want to feel, ever again.
***
It becomes a new habit.
After weeks spent cooped up inside, Ryan now leaves the house for hours at a time. He never goes into town, just walks on the sand until he can't stand anymore, sits for hours without thinking, and comes back in the evening, a little dizzy from the sun and the air.
He never allows anyone to come with him, claiming being alone clears his head.
He's lying.
It's not doing anything, and he doesn't want his head to be clearer.
He might feel again if it does.
***
Alex's voice startles him, a late evening. "Did you two ever get back together?"
He cranes her neck up to her. "Huh?" Not caring that he sounds stupid.
What the hell is Alex doing here?
"The Cohens are looking for you, by the way." She sits down next to him and he follows her movements carefully. He has always been wary of Alex, has always found it impossible to predict when she was going to be nice, and when she was going to attack-or bring some friends over to take care of the attack part.
"I ran into Seth on the pier," she goes on. She open her backpack, forages inside for a while, and lets out a delighted "Yes!" handing Ryan a beer bottle. "Looks like you need it. Seth said you'd been gone for hours. Said you always went away for hours, these days." She sniffs disdainfully. "He didn't even seem to notice we hadn't seen each other for months. Just asked me if I had seen you."
Unsure whether or not she expects him to answer, Ryan settles for saying nothing. He twists off the bottle cap and takes a sip of the beer. The beer is pretty cold, making him wonder what she has stored in that backpack of hers. A mini fridge?
"So, did you two ever get back together?" Alex asks.
Trying to keep up with her is making him dizzy. She actually waits for an answer this time, so he nods. "For a while. Kind of."
"Then what?"
He shrugs.
Shaking her head, she gets another bottle from her backpack and takes a long gulp of it. "Typical. Let me guess, long story?"
Ryan thinks about Trey and the gunshot.
Blood everywhere-Ryan's, Trey's.
The Dean.
Blood on his hands.
Johnny falling off the cliff.
Blood.
Volchock.
Blood there, too.
Marissa lying in his arms on the side of the road. Bleeding.
"Stay… Don’t leave…"
"Yeah," he says shortly. "You could say that."
"Call the Cohens, Atwood. Seriously."
How she can manage to make a request and sound totally indifferent at the same time is a mystery.
Still, she's not wrong. The Cohens have grown used to his need to go for long walks, but he has never stayed out as long as he has today. They must be worried.
Ryan takes his phone from his packet, turns it on, waits for the total tally of missed calls to blink on the screen.
Nine.
Ouch.
He calls Kirsten and the relief in her voice makes him wince. The conversation goes as he would have expected, had he thought about it. Yes, he's fine. Yes, he forgot to turn on his phone. No, he doesn't have any problems. He walked. Just walked. He's with someone now. A friend. Kind of. No, he doesn't know when he'll be home. He just needs to… he just needs to.
She hangs up after he promises to call her again in an hour.
"They sound worried," Alex offers.
"Yeah."
"Wanna go back?"
"No."
Alex nods, smiles, and takes another bottle from her backpack.
Vodka.
Ryan almost smiles.
One thing's for sure; Alex is resourceful.
***
Half an hour later, half the bottle is gone, and Alex kisses him.
Ryan can't pretend he's surprised.
Can't even pretend he minds.
Kisses back, a little needily.
When she moves her hand to his crotch, he pulls back. "Not here."
***
They barely make it through the door of the motel room before Alex launches herself at him again, kissing him hungrily. She slips her hands under his tee-shirt and rakes her nails on his back, sending a hot wave of desire straight to his dick.
She grabs his belt and guides him to the bed, shoves him hard enough to make him fall backwards, straddles him and leans down to kiss him again.
They don't go for slow and comfortable.
They don't even take off their clothes.
Alex just pushes his T-shirt up so she can lick a trail down his chest, making a small pause to bite softly on his nipples, increasing the pressure until he involuntarily lifts his hips.
She moves off him long enough to push down his jeans and boxers, then straddles his thighs again.
She licks the tip of his cock a few times, teasingly.
"Fuck," he says, shifting his hips restlessly.
"Yeah, yeah," she says, taking him into her mouth at last, allowing him to thrust into her, sucking him until he warns, "I'm-"
He comes in her mouth, gasping.
For a little while, there's no sound in the room except their ragged breathing.
Then, Alex asks, "Now, would you please return the favor?"
As an answer, he reaches for her, unzips her fly, slides her pants and panties down her legs. He easily slips a finger inside her, then another, and she starts rocking her hips as he moves his fingers inside her, rubbing her clit with his thump.
It doesn't take long before he feels her muscle contract around his fingers and she bites down a cry.
Panting, she leans down to kiss him one last time then collapses on the bed next to him.
***
"Thanks," she says when she can breathe normally again.
"Anytime," he replies, and they both chuckle.
***
"You're not going to cry are you?" Alex asks.
Ryan shakes his head. They're lying next to each other, still half-naked. They didn't even take the time to pull down the sheets, they're just lying over the covers, spent.
Ryan feels… he doesn't know what he feels.
He should feel guilty, he should be in pain, he should be… anything but what he is.
"I liked her," Alex says. He glances at her but she's staring at the other side of the room, her face turned away from him. "She was always giving people the benefit of the doubt. She was never scared to try new stuff. She was just…"
Just always willing to go on a dumb, far-fetched quest.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm coming with you. My Mom said it was okay."
"Trey took off."
"Well, I'll go with you."
"Remember what happened last time you came to Chino?"
"Yeah, I saved your ass. Come on."
"I was with you tonight. If anyone asks, can you say that?"
"Ryan-"
"Just yes or no. Can you do it?"
"Yeah, of course."
She was always willing to take in another stray boy. Granted, most times it backfired, but it had given Ryan three years with her.
"Hey, can I bum a cigarette?"
"I'm sorry. For all the greediness."
"I wouldn't have done it any differently."
"She was more at peace than I'd ever seen her," Ryan offers, his voice hoarse. "That last day."
"Stay… Don't leave…"
"You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be all right, it'll be okay…"
They stay silent after that, but even in the quiet, sleep is a long time to come.
***
When Ryan wakes up the next day, Alex is gone.
He's under the shower when he realizes that, for the first time since the cops took Marissa away from him, he's not cold anymore.
The first sob takes him by surprise, and he finds himself kneeling under the hot spray of water, praying that the shower covers the noise he's making.
By the time he stops crying, the water has turned cold.
***
Sandy finds him, later that day, sitting on the sand next to Marissa's lifeguard tower.
He sits next to Ryan, offers him a hamburger and French fries. "I guess you haven't eaten."
Ryan shakes his head, takes a half-hearted bite of the hamburger before setting the food down again.
He stares at the ocean, conscious of Sandy's presence next to him.
"Stay… Don't leave…"
"She was scared," he says at last. "That night. She knew she was dying."
Sandy waits, still silent.
"And the world…" He doesn't know how to say it without sounding like an idiot.
"Kept on going without her," Sandy supplies.
Ryan nods, a lump in his throat.
Pack up the sun, dismantle the moon.
Ryan had never understood that sentiment until Marissa died.
"I'm sorry, kid."
"I know." Ryan swallows, tries to take another bite of the hamburger, then gives it up as a lost cause.
"She just… died." And deep down, Ryan's not on the beach with Sandy right now. He's still there, holding her in his arms while the car burns behind them, listening to her last words, watching her take her last breath, whispering nonsense in a futile effort to keep her with him a few seconds longer.
That's all he can remember now-not how nice or how beautiful she was. Not the girl who bummed a cigarette from him in a hopeless attempt to look cool. Not their good times. Not how she could be a good friend, accept to help him, no questions asked. Except for a few moments last night, with Alex-and maybe there's a clue in there, but he's too tired to figure it out-all he remembers now is just Marissa dying.
"Stay… Don't leave…"
Sandy has often shown an alarming capacity to read Ryan's mind.
"One day," he says, "You'll remember the good times too."
Ryan shakes his head. No matter how much he wants to believe Sandy, he's not convinced.
So, Sandy reaches over, clasps Ryan's arm, and when Ryan looks at him, Sandy smiles. "I promise. Trust me, Ryan."
Because Sandy is Sandy, Ryan does.
***
It takes time, but eventually, Ryan finds that Sandy was right.
As usual.
end
On to the fic :
Title : Sex, Drugs and Rock'N'Roll Sex, Alcohol and a Funeral
Author : Helen C.
Summary : Unfortunately, eventually Ryan has to venture into the world.
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Rating : R
A/N. Written for areyouannie, who requested "Ryan meets Alex after Marissa's death in the finale." Hope you'll like it!
Many thanks to joey51 for beta'ing this! As usual, I tinkered. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Sex, Drugs and Rock'N'Roll Sex, Alcohol and a Funeral
Helen C.
When Marissa stops breathing, time slows.
Then stops.
Ryan spends an eternity kneeling there, her body in his arms.
Waiting.
She weighs almost nothing.
***
When the cops and the medics arrive, time starts moving in fast forward.
There are lights flashing, people yelling at each other, people talking to him.
Every sound, every word cuts through his brain, through his skin.
Shattering the quiet.
Making him bleed.
***
The cops spend about five minutes convincing Ryan to let go of Marissa. When he finally does, it feels like all the warmth he ever felt is gone, leaving behind a bone-deep cold.
Ryan prefers it that way.
The cold numbs him, keeps the pain at bay.
The medics take a look at his scratches, shine a penlight in his eyes, frown at his recoil and talk him into going to the hospital.
An hour later, once the doctors are done poking him and coming up with new tests, Sandy enters his room, disheveled and red-eyed. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, taking Ryan's hand. There's nothing to say, so Ryan keeps quiet, allowing Sandy to come sit next to him, obediently closing his eyes when Sandy tells him to sleep.
***
After two days, the doctors seem satisfied that he's not going to die anytime soon and release him. As soon as Sandy stops the car in front of the house, Kirsten gets out, helps Ryan out of the house, guides him inside, whispering that she prepared a room for him inside, and she'd feel better if he stayed in, does he mind?
He doesn't.
Seth is waiting for him in the room. He rises to his feet when Ryan enters, and they face each other for a few awkward moments before Seth pulls him into a no-less awkward hug.
Seth doesn't say a word when he lets go of Ryan. He just stands there as Ryan lies down on top of the covers, fully clothed, careful not to let his shoes touch the fresh sheets.
Seth watches him for a while before speaking. "You're gonna be uncomfortable like that." Ryan doesn't care, but he still allows Seth to unlace his shoes and take them off, and lifts his legs on the bed.
"You okay?" Seth asks. There's a pause before Ryan hears a muttered, "Right, 'cause that's not the stupidest question ever."
I'm cold, Ryan wants to say.
It doesn't make much sense, so he doesn't speak, instead shifting to the center of the bed, making room for Seth to sit down next to him.
Seth has been downright silent since the accident; he didn't even tease Ryan about sponge baths or cute nurses when he visited in the hospital.
That's okay. Ryan appreciates the quiet.
***
The next day, all the Cohens and Ryan go to the funeral.
Ryan's surprised by the number of people who attend. Marissa had lost a lot of her friends in the last three years, but obviously no one wanted to miss the week's big event.
He feels like throwing up all of a sudden, and only Summer embracing him keeps him from running from this place and going back to bed. Then Taylor joins them, and they all sit together, away from the adults and from their peers, silent through the whole thing.
Ryan still feels cold, hasn't been able to warm up since the accident.
At least that way, he doesn't have to feel when Julie starts sobbing, when Summer leans into Seth, when Taylor sniffs and looks away.
When they bury his girlfriend.
***
For three weeks, Ryan feels numb.
He's aware of Summer and Seth, talking in quiet tones as soon as he leaves a room.
He's aware of Sandy and Kirsten's concern.
I'm fine, he wants to tell them. I don't hurt.
He knows that it wouldn't reassure them in the least.
***
Summer makes a few attempts to ask about Marissa's final moments. Ryan can actually feel his brain shut down whenever she does-as if it's too dangerous to venture into those waters and some part of him is trying to protect him from a pain too raw, too fresh to deal with.
Taylor tries to coax him into hanging out with her and Sung-Ho, but they scare him a little so he politely declines.
Sandy tries to convince him to start looking for furniture for the apartment he's going to rent in Berkeley, but Ryan can't even remember what it felt like to be excited about College, so he smiles and says, "Later."
Seth tries to take him to the pier, or to the movies, or to… anywhere, but Ryan doesn’t want to leave the house. He doesn't want to see that the world is still turning, when Marissa is still lying in his arms, broken, scared. Dying.
Kirsten asks him to help her in the garden. Ryan ponders the suggestion for a few moments before nodding. Kirsten is safe; she's the only one who doesn't look at him like he's the one who's broken, the only one who doesn't push him to talk. She just listens, and maybe, just maybe, she understands his silence.
***
Unfortunately, eventually Ryan has to venture into the world. He's alone with Kirsten, she has a headache and there's no Tylenol anymore, and he doesn't want to let her suffer for hours just to indulge in his self-imposed exile.
So, he goes to the drugstore, and when he steps out, he bumps into Alex, and it turns out he was right to avoid leaving the house after all.
It all comes back to him with the sickening violence of a punch in the gut-the last time he saw Alex, Marissa was with him. They lit a bonfire on the beach, and for a little while, they were actually at peace.
The last time he saw Alex, Marissa wasn't lying in his arms, blood trickling down her face.
The last time he saw Alex, Marissa was still alive.
"You okay, Atwood? You look like you've seen a ghost," Alex says.
He stumbles away from her, leans over and throws up on the sidewalk, clutching the drugstore bag in his hand as if it was a lifeline.
He hears a disgusted noise behind him, and a sarcastic, "Why do I always have that effect on people?" and when Ryan straightens up, gasping, teary-eyed, a bottle of water appears in front of his face.
"Keep it," Alex orders.
She spins on her heels-her very high, very thin heels, Ryan notices distantly-and leaves him standing there.
He's sick two more times before he feels well enough to drive back to the house.
***
When Ryan arrives home, he hands the Tylenol to Kirsten and cuts off any question with a curt, "I'm going for a walk."
He leaves without waiting for an answer, hurries down the path to the beach, only stopping to take off his shoes and his socks, and starts walking on the sand.
When it starts getting dark-two hours later? Three hours?-he sits on the sand, faces the ocean, and.
Just stays there.
Not thinking, not moving, not waiting.
Not feeling.
He doesn't want to feel, ever again.
***
It becomes a new habit.
After weeks spent cooped up inside, Ryan now leaves the house for hours at a time. He never goes into town, just walks on the sand until he can't stand anymore, sits for hours without thinking, and comes back in the evening, a little dizzy from the sun and the air.
He never allows anyone to come with him, claiming being alone clears his head.
He's lying.
It's not doing anything, and he doesn't want his head to be clearer.
He might feel again if it does.
***
Alex's voice startles him, a late evening. "Did you two ever get back together?"
He cranes her neck up to her. "Huh?" Not caring that he sounds stupid.
What the hell is Alex doing here?
"The Cohens are looking for you, by the way." She sits down next to him and he follows her movements carefully. He has always been wary of Alex, has always found it impossible to predict when she was going to be nice, and when she was going to attack-or bring some friends over to take care of the attack part.
"I ran into Seth on the pier," she goes on. She open her backpack, forages inside for a while, and lets out a delighted "Yes!" handing Ryan a beer bottle. "Looks like you need it. Seth said you'd been gone for hours. Said you always went away for hours, these days." She sniffs disdainfully. "He didn't even seem to notice we hadn't seen each other for months. Just asked me if I had seen you."
Unsure whether or not she expects him to answer, Ryan settles for saying nothing. He twists off the bottle cap and takes a sip of the beer. The beer is pretty cold, making him wonder what she has stored in that backpack of hers. A mini fridge?
"So, did you two ever get back together?" Alex asks.
Trying to keep up with her is making him dizzy. She actually waits for an answer this time, so he nods. "For a while. Kind of."
"Then what?"
He shrugs.
Shaking her head, she gets another bottle from her backpack and takes a long gulp of it. "Typical. Let me guess, long story?"
Ryan thinks about Trey and the gunshot.
Blood everywhere-Ryan's, Trey's.
The Dean.
Blood on his hands.
Johnny falling off the cliff.
Blood.
Volchock.
Blood there, too.
Marissa lying in his arms on the side of the road. Bleeding.
"Stay… Don’t leave…"
"Yeah," he says shortly. "You could say that."
"Call the Cohens, Atwood. Seriously."
How she can manage to make a request and sound totally indifferent at the same time is a mystery.
Still, she's not wrong. The Cohens have grown used to his need to go for long walks, but he has never stayed out as long as he has today. They must be worried.
Ryan takes his phone from his packet, turns it on, waits for the total tally of missed calls to blink on the screen.
Nine.
Ouch.
He calls Kirsten and the relief in her voice makes him wince. The conversation goes as he would have expected, had he thought about it. Yes, he's fine. Yes, he forgot to turn on his phone. No, he doesn't have any problems. He walked. Just walked. He's with someone now. A friend. Kind of. No, he doesn't know when he'll be home. He just needs to… he just needs to.
She hangs up after he promises to call her again in an hour.
"They sound worried," Alex offers.
"Yeah."
"Wanna go back?"
"No."
Alex nods, smiles, and takes another bottle from her backpack.
Vodka.
Ryan almost smiles.
One thing's for sure; Alex is resourceful.
***
Half an hour later, half the bottle is gone, and Alex kisses him.
Ryan can't pretend he's surprised.
Can't even pretend he minds.
Kisses back, a little needily.
When she moves her hand to his crotch, he pulls back. "Not here."
***
They barely make it through the door of the motel room before Alex launches herself at him again, kissing him hungrily. She slips her hands under his tee-shirt and rakes her nails on his back, sending a hot wave of desire straight to his dick.
She grabs his belt and guides him to the bed, shoves him hard enough to make him fall backwards, straddles him and leans down to kiss him again.
They don't go for slow and comfortable.
They don't even take off their clothes.
Alex just pushes his T-shirt up so she can lick a trail down his chest, making a small pause to bite softly on his nipples, increasing the pressure until he involuntarily lifts his hips.
She moves off him long enough to push down his jeans and boxers, then straddles his thighs again.
She licks the tip of his cock a few times, teasingly.
"Fuck," he says, shifting his hips restlessly.
"Yeah, yeah," she says, taking him into her mouth at last, allowing him to thrust into her, sucking him until he warns, "I'm-"
He comes in her mouth, gasping.
For a little while, there's no sound in the room except their ragged breathing.
Then, Alex asks, "Now, would you please return the favor?"
As an answer, he reaches for her, unzips her fly, slides her pants and panties down her legs. He easily slips a finger inside her, then another, and she starts rocking her hips as he moves his fingers inside her, rubbing her clit with his thump.
It doesn't take long before he feels her muscle contract around his fingers and she bites down a cry.
Panting, she leans down to kiss him one last time then collapses on the bed next to him.
***
"Thanks," she says when she can breathe normally again.
"Anytime," he replies, and they both chuckle.
***
"You're not going to cry are you?" Alex asks.
Ryan shakes his head. They're lying next to each other, still half-naked. They didn't even take the time to pull down the sheets, they're just lying over the covers, spent.
Ryan feels… he doesn't know what he feels.
He should feel guilty, he should be in pain, he should be… anything but what he is.
"I liked her," Alex says. He glances at her but she's staring at the other side of the room, her face turned away from him. "She was always giving people the benefit of the doubt. She was never scared to try new stuff. She was just…"
Just always willing to go on a dumb, far-fetched quest.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm coming with you. My Mom said it was okay."
"Trey took off."
"Well, I'll go with you."
"Remember what happened last time you came to Chino?"
"Yeah, I saved your ass. Come on."
"I was with you tonight. If anyone asks, can you say that?"
"Ryan-"
"Just yes or no. Can you do it?"
"Yeah, of course."
She was always willing to take in another stray boy. Granted, most times it backfired, but it had given Ryan three years with her.
"Hey, can I bum a cigarette?"
"I'm sorry. For all the greediness."
"I wouldn't have done it any differently."
"She was more at peace than I'd ever seen her," Ryan offers, his voice hoarse. "That last day."
"Stay… Don't leave…"
"You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be all right, it'll be okay…"
They stay silent after that, but even in the quiet, sleep is a long time to come.
***
When Ryan wakes up the next day, Alex is gone.
He's under the shower when he realizes that, for the first time since the cops took Marissa away from him, he's not cold anymore.
The first sob takes him by surprise, and he finds himself kneeling under the hot spray of water, praying that the shower covers the noise he's making.
By the time he stops crying, the water has turned cold.
***
Sandy finds him, later that day, sitting on the sand next to Marissa's lifeguard tower.
He sits next to Ryan, offers him a hamburger and French fries. "I guess you haven't eaten."
Ryan shakes his head, takes a half-hearted bite of the hamburger before setting the food down again.
He stares at the ocean, conscious of Sandy's presence next to him.
"Stay… Don't leave…"
"She was scared," he says at last. "That night. She knew she was dying."
Sandy waits, still silent.
"And the world…" He doesn't know how to say it without sounding like an idiot.
"Kept on going without her," Sandy supplies.
Ryan nods, a lump in his throat.
Pack up the sun, dismantle the moon.
Ryan had never understood that sentiment until Marissa died.
"I'm sorry, kid."
"I know." Ryan swallows, tries to take another bite of the hamburger, then gives it up as a lost cause.
"She just… died." And deep down, Ryan's not on the beach with Sandy right now. He's still there, holding her in his arms while the car burns behind them, listening to her last words, watching her take her last breath, whispering nonsense in a futile effort to keep her with him a few seconds longer.
That's all he can remember now-not how nice or how beautiful she was. Not the girl who bummed a cigarette from him in a hopeless attempt to look cool. Not their good times. Not how she could be a good friend, accept to help him, no questions asked. Except for a few moments last night, with Alex-and maybe there's a clue in there, but he's too tired to figure it out-all he remembers now is just Marissa dying.
"Stay… Don't leave…"
Sandy has often shown an alarming capacity to read Ryan's mind.
"One day," he says, "You'll remember the good times too."
Ryan shakes his head. No matter how much he wants to believe Sandy, he's not convinced.
So, Sandy reaches over, clasps Ryan's arm, and when Ryan looks at him, Sandy smiles. "I promise. Trust me, Ryan."
Because Sandy is Sandy, Ryan does.
***
It takes time, but eventually, Ryan finds that Sandy was right.
As usual.
end