Debut
It was pathetic. The knowledge of such had been particularly acute from the first time the impulse had struck Marissa, nearly two months back. It was pathetic and made her feel like the cliche she was certain she was becoming more and more everyday. Poor little rich girl, drinking away her sorrows, seducing the gardener and all the while knowing that he was a poor stand-in for the boy who broke her heart.
No, no, Marissa thought, her back pressed to the slats of the lifeguard stand's railing. That wasn't right, not right at all. Ryan hadn't broken her heart, at least not this time. He'd just taken it, the whole damn thing, plucked out of her chest and carried to Chino. Fleetingly, she imagined it perched on a shelf at Theresa's mother's house, like a macabre knick knack Ryan had no real use for but couldn't bear to part with. It almost made her feel better, the thought of that.
It was pathetic to call, and Marissa knew it. The thing about alcohol, though, is that it makes consequences seem incredibly distant, and she'd been drinking since she'd dropped her father off. As she flipped open her cell phone with one wavering hand, she was dimly aware that going to the Cohen's had been a mistake. The poolhouse had been like a magnet, drawing her across the back patio like Ryan was still inside and reining her in.
It looked so empty without him there, like she felt. Hollow, unused. There should have been some comfort in that, but there wasn't.
When he answered the phone, her chest seemed to expand and contract at once, like she couldn't contain it.
"Hello? Hello, who is this?"
I love you I miss you I need you the way you smell touch feel love me come back please oh please. Her throat had closed up and she couldn't speak, wasn't certain she could bear it even were she able to force the words out, her mind and heart seeming to collide and making it difficult to think about anything except for the way just hearing his voice made her ache.
He knew it was her. She could hear him breathing, a gulf of words unsaid between them, the tightness in her chest expanding.
Breathe in. I love you. Breathe out.
She hung up.
Another swig of Absolut, and she wiped her slender hand roughly across her mouth as she swallowed. It should have helped more than it did. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the railing with a slow exhalation. Wallowing in self-pity had become her favorite pastime of late, but she'd need to get home soon if she didn't want to have to call a cab. Pathetic she might have been, but Marissa Cooper wasn't entirely stupid.
Things, however, had changed. Not in the metaphorical sense, but rather the literal, and Marissa, who was certain she'd not been quite that drunk, found herself sitting with her back pressed to an unfamiliar palm tree on an unfamiliar stretch of dark beach, purse and phone still beside her, bottle still clutched in her left hand as if this was where she'd been all along. The lifeguard stand was gone, as was the distant glow of the parking lot and the pier. Newport was gone, and despite the fact that she'd been well past tipsy and moving towards drunk, Marissa was suddenly very, very sober.
Something rustled ominously inside the shadowed jungle treeline, and Marissa scrambled to her feet, scooping up her belongings and backing abruptly down the dunes to the edge of the surf. There weren't jungles in California, not real ones, and her heart was thudding so loud that she was certain it was broadcasting like a beacon for whatever might be lurking in the darkness. Without hesitation, she hurried down the shore, sticking close to the water, although she had no idea what good it would do her if a giant tiger or a mad man decided to pounce from the trees.
Having heard no more rustling, she paused, quickly capped the bottle and shoved it in her purse. Entirely on instinct, she hit redial on her phone and pressed it tight against her ear. "Oh Ryan, pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up," she chanted under her breath and tipped her gaze upwards as she waited for the line to connect. The sky was ablaze with stars. Like a desert sky, unpolluted by the light of civilization. She boggled at it a moment and then jumped when her phone beeped loudly in her ear.
Call Failed, the screen said. "What?" Marissa said aloud, staring at the open phone, the light from the display illuminating her downturned face.
No, no, Marissa thought, her back pressed to the slats of the lifeguard stand's railing. That wasn't right, not right at all. Ryan hadn't broken her heart, at least not this time. He'd just taken it, the whole damn thing, plucked out of her chest and carried to Chino. Fleetingly, she imagined it perched on a shelf at Theresa's mother's house, like a macabre knick knack Ryan had no real use for but couldn't bear to part with. It almost made her feel better, the thought of that.
It was pathetic to call, and Marissa knew it. The thing about alcohol, though, is that it makes consequences seem incredibly distant, and she'd been drinking since she'd dropped her father off. As she flipped open her cell phone with one wavering hand, she was dimly aware that going to the Cohen's had been a mistake. The poolhouse had been like a magnet, drawing her across the back patio like Ryan was still inside and reining her in.
It looked so empty without him there, like she felt. Hollow, unused. There should have been some comfort in that, but there wasn't.
When he answered the phone, her chest seemed to expand and contract at once, like she couldn't contain it.
"Hello? Hello, who is this?"
I love you I miss you I need you the way you smell touch feel love me come back please oh please. Her throat had closed up and she couldn't speak, wasn't certain she could bear it even were she able to force the words out, her mind and heart seeming to collide and making it difficult to think about anything except for the way just hearing his voice made her ache.
He knew it was her. She could hear him breathing, a gulf of words unsaid between them, the tightness in her chest expanding.
Breathe in. I love you. Breathe out.
She hung up.
Another swig of Absolut, and she wiped her slender hand roughly across her mouth as she swallowed. It should have helped more than it did. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the railing with a slow exhalation. Wallowing in self-pity had become her favorite pastime of late, but she'd need to get home soon if she didn't want to have to call a cab. Pathetic she might have been, but Marissa Cooper wasn't entirely stupid.
Things, however, had changed. Not in the metaphorical sense, but rather the literal, and Marissa, who was certain she'd not been quite that drunk, found herself sitting with her back pressed to an unfamiliar palm tree on an unfamiliar stretch of dark beach, purse and phone still beside her, bottle still clutched in her left hand as if this was where she'd been all along. The lifeguard stand was gone, as was the distant glow of the parking lot and the pier. Newport was gone, and despite the fact that she'd been well past tipsy and moving towards drunk, Marissa was suddenly very, very sober.
Something rustled ominously inside the shadowed jungle treeline, and Marissa scrambled to her feet, scooping up her belongings and backing abruptly down the dunes to the edge of the surf. There weren't jungles in California, not real ones, and her heart was thudding so loud that she was certain it was broadcasting like a beacon for whatever might be lurking in the darkness. Without hesitation, she hurried down the shore, sticking close to the water, although she had no idea what good it would do her if a giant tiger or a mad man decided to pounce from the trees.
Having heard no more rustling, she paused, quickly capped the bottle and shoved it in her purse. Entirely on instinct, she hit redial on her phone and pressed it tight against her ear. "Oh Ryan, pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up," she chanted under her breath and tipped her gaze upwards as she waited for the line to connect. The sky was ablaze with stars. Like a desert sky, unpolluted by the light of civilization. She boggled at it a moment and then jumped when her phone beeped loudly in her ear.
Call Failed, the screen said. "What?" Marissa said aloud, staring at the open phone, the light from the display illuminating her downturned face.