And I see you
by M. F. Luder
"Hey! You!"
Ryan looks over his shoulder. He has a box of tomatoes on his hand and he places it by the turnips, just like the cook instructed him.
"What?"
Steven, the supervisor, points to the stack of white linen tablecloths and matching napkins. "Set those. Now."
Ryan doesn't say anything, only nods, jaw clenched because this isn't the first time Steven has been his supervisor, nor is it the first time he's had to do something that wasn't in his job description. He washes his hands, because he knows that if he stains the corner alone, he'll have to pay for the laundry bill from his paycheck. He picks up the tablecloths, the material soft under his fingertip, and he wonders how much they cost a piece.
He snorts, probably more than he makes in a year, and pushing the revolving door open with his shoulder, and he enters the hall.
The burgundy curtains, which fall to the floor, are wide open, letting in the early afternoon sun. The hall is wide and large, with high ceilings that give the impression that the room is even bigger than it actually is, which surprises Ryan.
He places the stack of tablecloths on the first table he sees and gets to work.
This is his fourth job with the rich people of Newport. It's an hour ride by bus and far too long on his bike, but it pays the bills. He gets more money working for one single gala these people throw than working three weeks in any market back in Chino.
He's setting his fourth table when he hears the women walk in.
He snorts under his breath. These women are all the same, all young and beautiful, with bodies that Theresa would kill for, dressed in tight pants and small tops, oozing confidence and their husband's money.
This time, it's no different.
There's the bitch, the one who always complains about everything and almost got him kicked out of another job two months ago. But she most certainly doesn't remember that. Having to pay fifty bucks for a set of napkins he didn't dirty until she collided with him probably means nothing to her.
"Kirsten, look at the tables." He hears the disdain in her tone. "This isn't white, it's beige."
He rolls his eyes, finishing the table in a second, walking as far away from her as possible. She will not cost him more money.
"Julie, I'm sure it's fine."
"No, it looks awful. Tacky and cheap."
He tunes her out and finishes the twenty-five tables. He walks back to the kitchen, the cutlery waiting for him.
He takes a deep breath and pushes through the swing doors with his hip slowly. He will not risk bumping into her.
The women have moved on to talk with Steven about something or the other. Probably the number of waiters and the amount of alcohol they will be serving. If he's lucky, a bottle might be able to go missing and no one would notice.
"Now, tell me, oh great woman, Holder of Wisdom, what exactly am I doing here? Because, really, I've got other things to do, you know? Yeah, other things. Important things. Issues to be resolved, a world to save and what not."
Ryan can't help but lift his eyes from three-pronged forks and look for the source of the voice. There's something there, in the tone, in the way the words are spoken that seems to catch Ryan's attention and his eyes land on a lanky, tall form hunched over, hands in pockets as he looks at the other lady, the only one who has ever been nice to Ryan, asking, not demanding.
Ryan sees the lady roll her eyes, even from where he's standing, and the other boy rocks on his heels, either excited or plain bored.
"I'm bored."
Bored, apparently.
Ryan chuckles at his straightforwardness.
"Seth, come on, ten more minutes."
"Why? It's not like you actually need me, is it? You just bring me to these things to bore me to death, don't you? You know, if you actually do that, you'll have to explain to dad how your only son has died in the middle of one of your galas."
The woman shakes her head. "Seth, ten minutes, okay? Just ten minutes."
"And what am I supposed to do in those ten minutes? What? Convince Mrs. Cooper that the linen is actually white because, really, dude, it's white. It's as white as white is. I haven't seen anything whiter, I'm telling you. It's sky white."
"The sky is blue Seth."
"No, it is not. I'm telling you, the sky is white. There are these patches of white in between all the blue, and it's white, yep, just as white."
Ryan cocks his head, trying to wrap his brain around the words spoken, and find a meaning there. He comes up short.
The woman seems as lost at Ryan is. "I need a male opinion."
"Mom!"
The whining comes out perfectly, but the lady isn't surprised by it.
"Ten minutes." She grabs his arm, turns him around and points to the dance floor on the other side of the room.
"You knew dad wouldn't agree, didn't you?"
From this angle, Ryan can see his face. He's calm and relaxed, like he actually belongs here, not like Ryan, who feels like he'll wait tables and play busboy for the rest of his life. He's wearing a green t-shirt that says 'Niagara Falls' in blue letters, and Ryan is certain the boy has been there, seen Niagara Falls up close. He's got dark brown curls that fall in an arranged mess and a comfortable and reluctant smile that make the corners of Ryan's lips twist upwards.
"The girls wanted the background to be pink and white, or red and white--"
"Argh!"
She nods as the boy complains. "Yes, I know, my thoughts exactly, so we're going for burgundy and I want to see if you like it. It's the Singles Ball Gala."
"Why are you doing a Singles Gala if it isn't Valentine's Day?"
The woman shrugs. "We thought it might be nice, to go out and just enjoy the night. It was mostly Julie's idea, but we all agreed with her."
Ryan rolls his eyes. Their idea of a nice evening is a Gala? Great. His friends and him go out for burgers. He wonders if that boy even knows what burgers are. Or is he used to French food with weird names.
Finishing the last table, Ryan looks at the boy from the corner of his eye. He might have seen him before, at another of these things. He remembers the women, of course, he always does, but the boy... he's not sure.
"Ryan!"
He turns around and Steven is standing by the kitchen door, arms crossed over his chest, and Ryan bites back the groan. Lifting the empty tray, he walks over, knowing his next assignment will probably not be pretty.
Ryan smiles as he looks at himself in the mirror in the changing room. He likes these suits, black and white, so formal and elegant at the same time. That's one of the reasons he takes this job.
Making sure his bow tie is fixed correctly, he puts on the white gloves and walks out of the room. The kitchen is busy with last minute details, cooks and helpers going every which way, which make Ryan smile. At least he only has to serve the food.
"Come on, people! Pick a handkerchief, put it on your right arm... right arm, and lets get going. Let's go! Let's go!"
He doesn't need to be told twice. He throws the white linen handkerchief over his right arm and picks up a tray, appetizers of some kind that Ryan doesn't recognize. He walks out of the kitchen among the eight waiters for tonight.
He walks through the crowd, pausing within the groups, offering a fourth round of appetizers, smiling as he pretends to enjoy this. They don't talk to him, they don't ever talk to him, and the bitch barely even glances his way.
He doesn't say anything, of course, only bites down on his lower lip and moves on.
It's a surprise to him to see the boy, the same one from the other day, standing alone to one side, hands once again, in his pockets.
Not thinking about it twice, he walks toward the boy and extends his arms slightly.
"Would you care for something tonight?"
The boy turns around and looks at Ryan.
Brown eyes are nice and tender, and he smiles at Ryan before tilting his head.
"Well, yeah, I'm hungry, and I've got no idea when dinner will be served." He pushes away from the wall and folds his arms, looking at the appetizers. He frowns, then looks up at Ryan. "Do you know when they'll serve dinner?"
Ryan pauses and tries not to frown. First time anyone has spoken to him directly, at least tonight. "Hmm... I'm not certain. I believe in the next thirty minutes, sir." He's used to thinking and talking like an English teacher because it's required.
The boy laughs, shaking his head. "Dude, really, sir? What, do I actually look like my dad?" He ponders his own question for a moment, before shaking his head. "No, nope. Yeah, I'm a dashing man and all that, but no, my dad is really different from me. I got my curls from his side, though." He pauses, and Ryan wonders how many words he can say without a breath. "I'm Seth. Just, Seth."
"Oh."
Ryan blinks, not knowing what to say.
Seth chuckles, shakes his head, and his hand moves to take one pinkish thing on another beige thingy.
"Thanks," he says and Ryan is still dumbfounded.
Ryan nods, and a minute later finds his voice. "You're welcome."
"So, what's--"
"Seth!"
Seth looks up, looking for the voice that called him. Ryan looks over his shoulder at a man waving at him, and Seth breaks into a grin.
"That's my dad," Seth says by way of explanation.
Ryan doesn't understand the reason for the explanation. He can only nod.
"Sorry," he says after a moment, and picks another pinkish thing. "Thanks, really."
Before Ryan can say anything, the boy -- Seth -- excuses himself once more and walks toward his dad.
It takes Ryan another minute before realizes he still has half the tray full. He swallows thickly, touches his bow tie briefly and continues his round.
Ten minute break every two hours. It's not much, but for Ryan it's more than enough. He's worked ten hours in a row when the need arose, so time for a cigarette fits Ryan's schedule nicely -- his hand had already been itching for one.
He lights the cigarette and takes a long puff. Butt held between his lips, he folds his arms. He leans against the wall, side entrance twenty feet to his side. The suit looks good on him, but the night is chill and he can feel the cold air against his cheek.
He takes the cigarette in his hand and just looks around him.
The place is beautiful. There are trees and grass. He knows the edge of the pool is about fifty feet to his left. It's quiet and tranquil, and the only sounds he can hear are the rumblings of the kitchen.
He sighs softly and takes another drag.
"Hey."
He turns around, surprised. He's about to throw the butt on the floor because he knows Steven hates when anyone smokes, saying they stink afterwards.
He doesn't recognize the person, the dim light from the spotlights on the ground casting shadows over the form, but he knows it's not Steven.
He frowns, tilting his head. "Yes?"
"It's you, right?"
The person walks toward Ryan, stepping onto the light and he's stunned once again. It's that boy.
"It's you... from inside. The waiter, right?"
Ryan nods, straightening up and wonders if he should drop the butt anyway. He doesn't know if this boy would rat on him.
"Yes, sir. It's me."
The boy chuckles again, shaking his head. "No, not sir, remember? I'm Seth." He pauses, tilting his head. "I never got your name."
Ryan frowns. "Ryan."
"Ryan," he says, trying the word on his lips. "Ryan. Cool." Seth looks around, hands in his pocket. "What, are you on your break or something?"
Ryan nods. "Or something."
"Well, at least they served dinner. I was starving, you know? And salmon just isn't enough. Nope, not that the food was either. I keep telling my mom they should serve ribs or something, not fish and bits of chicken, don't you think?"
Ryan shrugs.
"So, yeah, I know it looks great on the plate, but it's not like everyone doesn't get back home and have dinner all over again." He rolls his eyes. "Funny, really."
Ryan doesn't say anything, just takes another drag, certain the boy won't say anything. It doesn't seem like him to tattle.
"So... you from around here?"
Ryan doesn't snort, stopping himself short. "Hmm... not really, no."
"Oh." A pause. "Where from?"
"Chino." Ryan wonders if the boy will be spooked by it.
Seth only frowns. "Chino? Hmm... I think I've heard of it, I'm not sure." He shrugs nonchalantly, like it doesn't really matter.
Ryan knows it matters, because it's not like he'll be able to become friends with this guy... this guy who wears suits for galas every other weekend because the women seemed bored, who probably has around five or ten more to chose from, who complains about dinning on salmon and sturion.
Seth tilts his head. "I think I've seen you before."
"I don't know."
"Yeah... yeah, I think I've seen you before."
Ryan pauses. "I've seen your mom before." Seth is looking at him, rather confused. Ryan swallows. "I've worked at other things too."
"Yeah, that's probably right. Mom organizes these things every now and then. Fundraisers and stuff." He shrugs.
They don't say anything for a moment, though Ryan can tell Seth is dying to talk. Ryan doesn't mind. The boy can keep a conversation going all by himself.
Seth is about to say something, but Ryan cuts him off.
"I gotta go back." He lets the butt fall down and stomps on it.
"Oh," Seth frowns, but nods. "Sure. Okay. I'll... I'll see you around then."
"Yeah, sure."
Ryan doesn't think so and only turns around and walks back to the kitchen.
He keeps his eyes open for the rest of the night. He sees Seth here and there talking to his mom, and who Ryan assumes is his father. Other times he's just alone. Ryan doesn't see him talking to any of the other pretty boys and girls dressed up in their fine clothes for this lousy and long evening.
Around eleven, Ryan realizes why.
He's stocking the bar with a couple more bottles of Chivas and French wine he doesn't recognize when he sees Seth, leaning against the wall, a glass of what looks like plain Coke in his hands.
Ryan pauses for a moment, and then a blond boy, tall and with square shoulders, two girls, one brunette with a really tight dress and the other with straight brown hair falling down her back, her arm around the blond's arm, pass by.
Seth, awkwardly, lifts his hands and greets them.
The blond boy looks over his shoulder and snaps at Seth, calling him Cohen. Ryan assumes that's his last name.
They exchange harsh words, and Ryan frowns even deeper.
So Seth doesn't like these people either, huh?
Ryan snorts. Weird, considering he's part of this whole scenery of prettiness.
He feels a strange desire to head over there and punch the lights out of that guy. Though that wouldn't make Steven happy. He frowns, bottle of whiskey in his hand, before those three leave Seth alone.
Ryan swallows thickly as Seth sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. Ryan is considering walking over there and talking to him when the bartender catches his attention.
"Hey, I need more rum too, okay?"
Ryan nods, making his way toward the kitchen, looking at Seth over his shoulder.
The party is almost over, and for that, Ryan is grateful. He's tired, his eyes are almost closing, and his fingers are itching for a cigarette.
The kitchen clock lets Ryan know it's almost three in the morning when he places the last tray of plates by the sink.
Twenty minutes later, dressed in his faded jeans and knock-off leather jacket he hands in his suit. Steven glares at him before handing him his paycheck.
Ryan smiles, nods and turns around.
Three hundred and fifty bucks for three days of work. Ryan grins, pleased, and hopes he can get another job later this month.
He places the check back in the envelope and tucks it in his jacket's inner pocket.
Turning around the corner, Ryan gets out his lighter. He catches sight of Seth from the corner of his eyes.
The boy is standing against the railing of the stairway entrance, all by himself and Ryan assumes he's waiting for his parents.
He lights a cigarette, walking slowly to the other side of the building where his bike is chained. Couples are talking quietly as they leave, and then the blond boy is walking out of the building as well, along with the brown haired girl.
Ryan frowns, pausing.
He's twenty feet from where Seth's standing, but he still hears him say, "Hey, Luke. Cool party, huh?"
The blond boy -- Luke, and now Ryan has a name to go with the idiotic face -- sneers. "Yeah, sure. Suck it, queer."
Seth doesn't say anything, only lowers his eyes and sighs.
Ryan takes a long drag, and his fingers clench around the butt of the cigarette.
Luke laughs. "What? Too much of a chicken to answer, Cohen?"
"Luke, let's go," the girl says, but the boy doesn't listen.
Seth walks down the stairs, and waves over his shoulder.
"You're such a fag Cohen," Luke calls after him, following.
Ryan takes another drag and picks up his pace.
Seth has turned toward the right side of the building, to the parking lot where only five cars remain.
Ryan pauses by the corner, watching.
"What?" Luke says, catching up with Seth. He pushes the boy. "What is it, Cohen? You don't feel like it today?"
"At least I don't shave my chest."
Ryan smiles at the murmured words.
"What? What did you say?"
Seth shakes his head. "Nothing, okay? Just go. Go with Marissa--"
"Luke, come on, let's go."
But the blond doesn't listen to the girl, only pushes Seth once again.
Ryan throws the butt to the floor and steps out of the shadows. "Hey, what's your problem, huh?"
Luke turns around, surprised at the voice.
Ryan understands why Seth doesn't want to fight this boy. He's taller than Seth, with square shoulders and a menacing stance for a Newport kid. Except, Ryan has fought bigger and older guys, friends of Trey who liked to get into fights when they were either too drunk or high.
Ryan knows how to handle rich boys like this, all bark and no bite.
"What? Who are you?" Luke looks between Seth and Ryan. "Your boyfriend come to save you Cohen?"
"Luke, please--"
Ryan pushes past the girl, who's still trying to calm down her brute of a boyfriend, and stares at Luke's face. "What? Afraid to fight me?"
Luke snorts. "Come on, queer. Come on. Let me smash your pretty face."
Ryan chuckles.
Luke throws back his arm to punch Ryan, but Ryan ducks and slams his fist into Luke's abdomen, knocking the wind out of him.
Luke takes a couple of steps back, trying to catch his breath.
"Luke, let's go, okay? Come on, let's go."
Luke lets himself be pushed away by Marissa.
"Wait till I find you alone Cohen!"
Ryan growls. "Like hell you will." He takes a step toward Luke, jaw set and fits clenched at the sides.
Luke tries to get closer to Ryan but Marissa places her hands on Luke's chest, pushing him away.
Teeth gritted, Ryan folds his arms. "Don't you fucking bother him anymore."
Marissa pushes Luke once again and they walk around the corner before Ryan lets his arms drop to his side.
"Dude!" Seth trots over to Ryan, slapping his shoulder.
Ryan smiles.
"Dude, that was so cool! How did you do that? That... thing with the ducking and the punching? It was awesome. You gotta teach me someday."
Ryan chuckles, shaking his head.
"Really, it was great." Seth's bouncing on the heels of his feet. "I had no idea you could do that. You gotta teach me, I'm telling you dude, you gotta--"
"Seth?"
Both boys turn around and Ryan recognizes the woman walking toward them.
"Seth! We've been looking for you. You said you were gonna--"
Seth nods rather enthusiastically. "Yeah, yeah, by the door, I know. Sorry."
Seth's father shakes his head, seeming disapproving, though it only lasts a moment. Ryan notices Seth has his dad's hair. He has his arm around the woman's waist and Ryan recognizes her immediately. Blond hair and amicable smile. Seth has his mother's smile.
"The thing is, and you're not gonna believe this, I'm so certain of it. No, no, no, you're not gonna believe this."
Seth is babbling and it makes the corners of Ryan's lips curl up in a smile.
"Okay, so, the thing is, this is Ryan."
Ryan blinks. What?
They boy smile at him, Seth's father nodding in acknowledge.
Ryan frowns deeper. Huh?
"Ryan, these are my mom and dad. Mr. and Mrs. Cohen. The lady and the tramp. The Queen and the peasant."
"Seth," the woman says, tilting her head.
"The Newport Girl and the Bronx Jewish boy."
"Seth." Mrs. Cohen's voice raises slightly.
Instead, Seth only chuckles while his father shakes his head in silent amusement.
"I'm the peasant," the man says chuckling lowly, "but you can call me Sandy."
Ryan stares down at the stretched hand for a moment before shaking it.
"Nice to meet you Ryan."
Glaring at her son, the woman offers her hand as well. "Don't go by anything Seth's says. I'm Kirsten."
"Mr. Cohen, Mrs. Cohen." Ryan says, slowly, trying to find his voice because he really can't believe this is happening.
He looks over at Seth from the corner of his eyes, but Seth just keeps bouncing on the heels of his feet.
"You will not believe this! So, Luke was his usual brute self--"
"Seth--" Mrs. Cohen says, warningly.
"-- but Ryan was here and the--" Seth pauses in mid word, turning to look at Ryan. "Why were you here?"
Ryan is about to answer, ducking his head slightly because there really isn't a convincing answer, when Seth just keeps on talking.
"Anyway, Ryan was here and he just faced Luke. He faced Luke! And then, well, you know Luke. He can't think with his head. Poor thing, was probably dropped when he was a baby and all his brains oozed out from his ear."
"Seth." Mrs. Cohen's voice raises another notch. Mr. Cohen, on the other hand, can't help but grin.
"The thing is," Seth continues, the admonition going unnoticed, "he wanted to fight Ryan. And man, I had no idea you could fight like that!"
Again, Ryan ducks his head. He tells himself he's not blushing.
"Well, Luke went after Ryan and then Ryan just..." Seth coughs, biting down the word. "Well, he kicked Luke's ass. That's pretty much it."
Kirsten shakes her head in admonition while Sandy slaps Ryan's shoulder amicably. Ryan looks down at the ground, not understanding the attention.
"Well," Sandy says, squeezing his hand slightly. "Thanks. Luke can be quite thick headed."
"Sandy..." Kirsten's reprimanding tone lasts only a second before giving Ryan a small smile, obviously amused by her husband and son's antics. "Thanks." Her eyes bore into him. "Really."
Ryan only nods, his heart beating fast and he doesn't know what to answer to that. This woman who oozes motherhood is thanking him for protecting her child. The memory of his own mother, drinking vodka as dinner, comes to Ryan's mind. He brushes it away in a second.
Seth keeps on bouncing on his heels, nodding and waving his hands. Ryan wonders how the boy can have that much energy at three in the morning.
"Were you about to leave?"
The question takes him by surprise. Ryan nods.
"Well then," Sandy walks to the black Sedan parked twenty feet from where they're standing. "We can give you a ride."
"No, no, no. Thanks, there's no need."
"Sure there is." Sandy smiles reassuringly. "It's very late. If I'd had my way, we would have gone to bed four hours ago, but Kirsten here," he says, jerking his head toward his wife, obviously amused, "didn't want to leave so early."
"I organized this ball Sandy," Kirsten says, vaguely annoyed by Sandy's comment, "how would it look if I left early?" She finishes with a shake of her head.
Seth turns around, looking at Ryan before rolling his eyes. Ryan can't help but chuckle.
"Come on Ryan, hop in." Sandy holds the back seat door open.
"No, thanks. I'm probably too out of the way. You don't have to--"
"Where do you live?"
Ryan looks at Mrs. Cohen who stares back at him, curiosity visible in clear blue eyes. He swallows thickly, lowing his head. He knows the explanation with change the mood between them. "Chino."
Kirsten blinks, confused.
Ryan shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
"He served at the ball," Seth explains calmly, not bothered by the fact itself.
"Oh," she pauses, not seeming taken back by it, not something Ryan was expecting. "How were you planning on going home?"
"Bus."
She shakes her head disapprovingly, her tone changing slightly. "It's past three and it will take you at least an hour to get there." She even seems worried about him. "No, we'll take you."
"See? Mom says it's good. You gotta listen to the mom." Seth starts pushing Ryan toward the car. Somehow, to his very own surprise, Ryan lets himself be pushed in.
He serves a young lady her Mocaccino with a small nod. Ryan walks back behind the counter, waiting for the rest of his orders.
The doorbell chimes. He's used to the sound. The small coffee shop pays well and he's always been able to keep a job for more than a month, not like Trey. He's used to the sound by now.
Yet, this time, he looks up.
Ryan frowns as he watches a languid form enter, brown eyes looking around. When Seth catches Ryan's eyes, he waves, smiling.
Ryan pauses for a moment before nodding in response.
Seth takes a seat at one of the tables.
He remembers telling Seth about working at Café-Café on the way to his place as the Cohens drove him. Seth had wanted to know everything about him and Ryan could do nothing but answer his questions. He told Seth about his job never considering the boy might actually stop by.
That was two days ago.
"Hey, dude!" Seth keeps on smiling. Ryan nods again. "I was hoping I'd meet you here. How you doing?"
Ryan shrugs, chuckling slightly. He doesn't know if he's amused by Seth's behavior or confused by it. "Fine. Hmm... would you like--?"
"Oh, right, coffee... hmm... well, I only take coffee in the mornings, you know? Stunts your grow and all that..."
Amused, probably. Ryan smiles reluctantly. Definitely amused.
"Well, then, something to drink?"
Seth looks down at the menu as seeing it for the first time, as not having considered Ryan was here working and had to take orders.
"Oh, yeah, right. Hmm... Well, I can have a cup of coffee, right? it's not like mom is gonna find out, right?" Seth winks at Ryan, before focusing on the menu once again. "A cappuccino, I think. Yeah, a cappuccino. Mom's always taking cappuccinos."
Seth starts drumming the menu against the edge of the table, seeming nervous.
Ryan frowns slightly, writing down on his pad. He doesn't understand why Seth would be nervous.
Seth notices the café's brand name on the right corner of Ryan's black and burgundy shirt. "This place is really cool. Is it new?"
Ryan shakes his head. He's been working here for five months. The place has been open over a year, as far as he knows.
"Oh, right." Seth chuckles. "I don't come here a lot." Seth picks on the edge of the menu. There's no need to add that he tends to stay in his house and play video games, by himself. Or sail, by himself. Or do anything, by himself.
"I'll be right back."
"Hey!"
Ryan looks over his shoulder. Seth's leaning over the wooden table, forearms pressed over it. Ryan takes a step closer, leaning over.
"When do you leave?"
Ryan blinks. "One am."
Seth nods, grinning, and leans back against the back of the seat. Seth gives Ryan a quick smile that Ryan returns before ducking his head. He goes for Seth's coffee.
Ryan should be more shocked at seeing Seth leaning against the wall, ten feet from the door as he puts on his jacket. The glass door clicks shut behind him.
Only two girls are still inside, closing the register. It's well past one because it was Ryan's turn to clean the tables before closing.
Seth pushes away from the wall, walking slowly toward Ryan.
He should be more surprised at seeing Seth.
After two coffees and several attempts to start a conversation while Ryan tried to take everyone's orders, Seth told Ryan he had some things to do. Seth never said bye.
"What are you doing here?"
The words don't come out harshly; instead they are low and inquisitive and somehow make Seth smile.
The boy shrugs. "I don't know. I was in the neighborhood..."
Ryan raises an eyebrow and Seth chuckles.
"Anyway, are you hungry? Because, like, I'm kinda hungry so I'm pretty certain you are. Are you?"
Ryan pauses for a moment. He hasn't had anything since lunch because his shift started at five. He nods.
"Cool. I know this cool place and it's opened. We can..."
Ryan is learning not to be surprised by Seth's actions.
Seth starts picking him up every day after that, and then a week later his shift changes to ten am to five pm. Ryan only takes his bike when he's going to leave early. Following Seth, Ryan wonders where he's going to put his bike.
Apparently, Seth thought about it.
"I borrowed my mom's Range Rover," Seth says with a shrug, like it's not big deal borrowing a 4X4. "As long as nothing happens to the car, I'm cool."
They place the bike in the back of the car. Ryan doesn't ask where they're going. Seth has a tendency to surprise Ryan with new places. They've gone for hamburgers and steak. Seth has gone to Café-Café and ordered dinner for both of them, dinner they ate the minute Ryan was off the clock.
This time Ryan doesn't know what to think as they drive into a closed community, a guard nodding at Seth and opening the gate.
"Where--?"
Seth shrugs nonchalantly. "I thought we could come home, you know? Maybe watch a movie or play some Nintendo. Do you like Nintendo?"
They play Grand Theft Auto for three hours before Mrs. Cohen, who insists on being called Kirsten, asks Ryan if he'll stay for dinner. Seth answers before Ryan can.
When they sit down for dinner, Seth pulls Ryan's chair for him, by Seth's side. Ryan ducks his head and sits down. He sees Seth smile from the corner of his eyes.
Seth doesn't push when he asks about Ryan's family and Ryan doesn't answer. Seth knows when not to ask, and Ryan likes that.
There are a lot of things about Seth that Ryan likes.
Ryan wonders about that.
When Seth talks about his family, about how his mom likes Valentine's Day and how his dad sometimes arrives late at work to hit a good wave, Ryan tilts his head and hears attentively. There's something about how Seth's house feels like a home that make Ryan want to keep on listening.
Or maybe it's Seth's voice, and tone, and eyes.
Ryan doesn't think about that either.
And then, when Seth starts telling Ryan all about Chrismukkah and two sets of presents, Ryan ducks his head and chuckles. He's not nervous, either.
When Ryan walks out of the coffee shop one afternoon, it's almost six. Ryan had been hoping Seth would take the hint and leave after ten minutes, but Seth doesn't seem to take hints.
Ryan ducks his head, walking faster than usual.
Seth only blinks though he wants to gasp. He bites back the desire to reach for Ryan's left hand as it goes to his eyebrow, trying to cover the bruise over his eyes.
"What happened?"
Ryan stays silent. There's no point in talking about it because, really, he doesn't want to talk about it.
"Ryan, dude, what happened? How did you--?" Seth pauses. "Did you crash or--?"
Ryan shakes his head. There are things he hasn't told Seth -- there are lots of things he hasn't told Seth -- and AJ is one of them.
"Nothing."
"Your whole eye is black dude, I don't think that counts as nothing." Seth finally does reach out and grabs Ryan's hand, pulling it out of his face. Seth does gasp when he gets a good look at Ryan. There's a cut on his cheek. "Dude!"
"It's okay."
"Hell, no." Seth's hand clenches at his side and his chest feels tighter. "What happened? Unless your bike is trashed as well--"
"Got into a fight with my mom, that's all."
"Your mom--"
Ryan shakes his head. "No, no, not her. Got into a fight with her about her new boyfriend. He was drunk, that's all. Let it go."
Seth wants to talk about it, to add something and keep on questioning as he usually does, but Ryan looks squarely at Seth and he takes the hint.
"You sure you're okay?"
Ryan nods but Seth doesn't believe him.
Ryan runs his hand through his hair. Touching his left cheekbone with his fingertips, Ryan winces. It's only a scratch. His back still hurts from when AJ threw him against the wall. His bike is leaning against the low wall. He eyes the phone on his left, shaking his head.
Theresa says she can't take him, Eddie says he's got a thing to do... great friends he's got.
Nothing. Perfect.
Fucking nothing, nowhere to go.
He kicks the side of the partition wall. He bites down his lower lip harder than intended.
Fuck.
Ryan pauses for a moment, hand going to his wallet in the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He opens it, reaching for the small piece of paper hidden inside.
Seth's writing. Phone number and address.
Ryan sighs.
Seth wrote this down the night they met, as his parents gave Ryan a ride home.
He bites down his lower lip.
He shouldn't do it, he shouldn't call Seth... but he doesn't have another choice. Not really. It's not that he wants to see Seth. Because no, he doesn't. He really doesn't have anywhere else to go.
With a long sigh, Ryan reaches for the public phone and dials.
"Hello, hello?"
Ryan's lips are pressed into a thin line.
"Hmm.... Hello? Dude, someone there?"
Not another choice. "Seth?"
"It'll be just for tonight," Ryan says, ducking his head as he walks into the pool house.
Kirsten smiles at him, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, sweetie. You can stay as long as you want."
If Mrs. Co-- Kirsten wonders about the bruise, she doesn't ask. Ryan thinks Seth probably told her about last week, about his black eye. He hopes she doesn't ask about it.
She gazes at Seth over her shoulder, chuckling low as her son keeps on bouncing on his heels, more excited than she has seen him a while. "If you need anything: towel, bedding; let me know." With one last smile at the boy, she turns around and closes the door after her.
"Dude, this is so cool!" Seth throws himself on top of the bed, wiggling and jumping around.
Ryan chuckles, shaking his head. This exactly how Seth is all the time. He has too much energy, too much stamina. Maybe it has to do with keeping to himself for the past years, because the two weeks he has known him, Seth is always doing something, or saying something. Ryan likes that about Seth.
Somehow, Ryan knows he can keep quiet and Seth will understand.
He swallows thickly, ducking his head once again, and his cheeks are not red. They are not, because that would mean Seth makes him blush. Ryan tells himself that's not the case.
"I had to convince my mom to let you have the pool house, you know?" Seth says as he finally settles down, lying down on his stomach. "She wanted to give you the guest room, but I think this is way better, what ya think?"
Ryan shrugs, sitting down on the edge of the bed, placing his backpack on the floor.
"Thanks," he whispers, head hanging low. His lips are pressed into a thin line. He didn't want to do this, to compromise their friendship like this. Ryan didn't want Seth to know this much about him.
"Hey, dude," Seth scrambles to kneel down on the bed, behind Ryan, hand reaching for him. Seth pauses before placing it on Ryan's lower back. "It's okay."
Ryan closes his eyes with a soft sigh in between barely parted lips. He doesn't hiss, and Ryan knows that if he had, it wouldn't have been because of the lingering pain.
Seth's hand is warm against his cold skin, and he can feel such heat radiating from Seth through the fabric of his jacket. Or maybe is the touch itself.
He wants to look up over his shoulder, meet Seth's eyes and see the smile he knows is there. Ryan knows what will happen if he does so. He knows he'll lean over and kiss Seth's lips softly. It'll taste like strawberries and sugar because Seth can't taste like anything else.
He has to gnaw on his lower lip to keep himself from doing so.
He won't look at Seth, not now. He won't look at Seth because he knows he'll kiss him.
He can't kiss Seth.
"I'm glad you're here."
Seth's voice is low, lower than Ryan has ever heard it. Ryan tells himself he's imagining the slight hitch in the tone.
With a sigh for a moment long passed, Seth retreats his hand, finger closing over his palm. It feels empty, somehow. Empty for not touching Ryan a second longer.
"Well, it's late, you know?" Seth jumps off the bed, feeling bouncy and chipper, all at the same time. It's not because Ryan's here now, not, not really, because wouldn't that be weird. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? We can play Grand Theft Auto again and I'll kick your butt for the hundredth time."
Ryan chuckles. "Yeah, whatever."
Seth laughs as he closes the door after him. He takes a deep breath, hand behind him still touching the doorknob.
This is Ryan. Ryan, who makes his heart beat faster and actually look forward to the next day.
This is Ryan who Seth wanted to kiss back there.
He lets out a long sigh.
Wow.
Bed is the safest decision at the moment. Bed, where he can think about all this. Bed, because the bed never threatened to force him into a nervous breakdown and how pathetic would it look to have a breakdown at age sixteen.
He pushes off the door and makes his way toward the house.
Ryan hears Seth's footsteps and can let out the breath he hadn't know he had been holding.
He swallows thickly and looks down at the floor. Maybe coming here hasn't been the wisest decision.
They spend the morning playing Nintendo and sailing in the afternoon.
Seth wants to ask Ryan what happened. It's visible in his body language, in the way Seth looks at Ryan for a moment before looking away. Seth wants to know and Ryan doesn't know if he can talk about it.
"I'll probably leave this afternoon..."
Seth turns around to look at Ryan, eyes blinking slowly. "What, this afternoon? Why?" He pauses. "I mean... I thought you could..."
Ryan shrugs. "I'm sure mom forgot all about it by now. I probably can--"
"No, you can stay another day." Seth looks right at Ryan, head tilted slightly. "Maybe it'd be better." His gaze shifts to the lingering bruise on Ryan's cheek.
Ryan ducks his head.
"If you don't want to talk abo--"
"I don't."
Seth swallows thickly. He had been hoping reverse psychology would work on Ryan. Apparently he's smarter than that, not that Seth ever thought otherwise. "Well, yeah. Okay." He pauses, twirling one of the ropes in between his fingers.
They stay silent for the longest time, until Seth can't take it anymore.
"Was it her boyfriend again?"
"Seth."
"No, I mean, I want to know. If it was him, I'm sure dad can do somet--"
"Seth."
Ryan's tone is harsher, harsher than intended, but Seth gets the meaning. Ryan doesn't want to talk about it; Seth shouldn't push it.
Taking one look at Ryan, his jaw set and his lips pressed into a line, Seth knows he really shouldn't push it.
Seth doesn't say anything until they go back to the shore.
Ryan doesn't know how he got talked into this.
He tilts his head, looking at his reflection in the mirror.
It was Mr. Cohen, though it's hard to think about him as Sandy, who started talking about the fashion show, though Ryan has no idea why they'd need a fashion show.
Seth didn't want to go, but Sandy told him they should go if only because Kirsten wants to go. Then, to Ryan's surprise, Sandy said that Ryan could go with them. That seemed to catch Seth's attention, and that's when Seth started badgering Ryan about going.
At some point or another, between trotting back to the house barefooted and sharing the opened box of cereal as they played Nintendo, Ryan accepted.
Staring at his reflection, tie hanging loosely around his neck not wanting to be tied by inexpert hands, Ryan wonders how exactly Seth convinced him.
Ryan tells himself he's being a good friend, only going because Seth wants to go. But that's a lie, because Seth doesn't want to. Seth is going because Ryan could go with him.
Ryan shakes his head. The explanation is too complicated, too many assumptions to come up with a plausible answer.
So he takes the easiest one.
Ryan's going because Seth asked him to. Ryan's going because brown eyes and a tender smile did it for him.
With a sigh, Ryan pulls the tie out of his collar and shakes his head. He's given up on the thing.
There is no knock on the door, like somehow there doesn't need to be, like Seth knows Ryan won't be upset about it. Somehow Ryan thinks maybe Seth does know this.
"Hey, I knew it. It fits you perfectly." Seth nods, curls bouncing with the movement.
Ryan looks over at Seth through the reflection in the mirror. Seth's wearing a dark blue tux, light blue shirt underneath and matching tie. There are blue lines going around the tie and it fits Seth in a way Ryan can't describe.
Ryan blows out his breath through his nostrils. There's no reason to be nervous, but his hands are sweating.
"Dude, where's your tie? It's like, the outfit is not complete without the tie."
"Nah," Ryan says, shrugging nonchalantly, showing Seth the tie in his left hand. "I'm not going to wear it. Open collar. It's a good look."
"Sure, yeah, except, you gotta wear it. What's the point of the thing being black tie if you miss the tie?"
Seth takes the tie from Ryan's loose fingers, taking a step closer and standing in front of him.
Ryan can hear Seth's slow breathing. Ryan's is by far, faster.
Ryan lifts his collar as Seth places the tie around Ryan's neck.
"Took me the longest time to learn how to tie this thing, you know?"
Seth shifts even closer to Ryan.
Ryan's gaze shifts from Seth's eyes to his lips. His hands clench at his sides.
"Mom can do it in a heartbeat with her eyes closed. Me? Turned fifteen before getting it all at once."
Ryan looks to his left, doubtful about meeting Seth's eyes.
"There. See, I told you. I'm a master on this by now. Gotta see me with a bow tie."
Ryan chuckles, low in his throat, before lifting his eyes to Seth.
Blue eyes meet his and Seth's breath catches in his throat. His hands fall from the tie to Ryan's shoulders.
This time, Seth goes further.
Touching is not enough.
His hands move of their own accord, and before he can think further, before he can think twice about this and back down, Seth's fingers are touching Ryan's collarbone. He caresses the skin, swallowing the nervousness that catches at his throat.
Ryan stands still. He doesn't move, deep down afraid Seth will let go, afraid the touching will stop.
Ryan knows Seth will lean over and kiss him before he does it. He knows it by Seth's slight shifting, because the hands cup his face and Seth's breathing hitches before tilting his head.
Ryan doesn't back down.
He kisses back, soft lips against his, his breathing uneven and his hands almost trembling as they reach for Seth's waist.
It doesn't last long and it's not the best kiss he's had, or given, but it's different. It doesn't taste the same and it doesn't leave the same lingering feeling.
It feels right and like it fits. It feels like he should have done it the moment he saw Seth between the women, between unarranged tables and burgundy curtains.
When Seth pulls away, he lets out a shaky breath.
Ryan smiles proudly. His lips are reddish and swollen and Ryan did that.
Seth's right thumb strokes Ryan's jaw.
Ryan leans into the touch.
It was stupid of them to go to the party at Holly's, but Seth was excited because it was the first time he had been invited, though they had invited Ryan first.
It was even more stupid to walk down to the beach as the water polo team made the bonfire.
Ryan didn't see the idiot from the ball standing barely twenty feet from them, along with his friends. And when they started picking on Seth, pushing him around, Ryan was the first one to throw a punch.
But it was five against two, and not even Ryan can deal with those odds.
They walk into the pool house, both bruised and quieter than when they left.
Seth shakes his head, taking a seat on the bed by Ryan's side before letting himself fall backwards.
"Okay, so, yeah, that was hard. Though, we could totally take them next time."
"Sure we could," Ryan says with a snort.
"Nah, really." Seth's left hand reaches for Ryan, pulling him tiredly. Ryan lets Seth haul him down on the bed. "We could totally take them, dude, though for next time, you gotta teach me some of those moves." Seth nods, eyes almost closed. "Gotta teach me how to throw a punch, you know? That's what I'm lacking, self defense training. You'll teach me, right?"
Ryan nods, eyes falling close as well. He lets out a long sigh.
He feels Seth placing a small kiss on Ryan's neck and cheek. A minute later, Seth's breathing evens and Ryan lets himself relax. Being in the house, Seth by his side, he feels more relaxed than he has in ages.
It doesn't take more than a moment for him to fall asleep.
The next morning, explanations are required by Sandy and Kirsten during breakfast on the reasons behind the black eyes.
They aren't upset, only taken back, which relieves Ryan immensely. It's understandable, considering Seth's never got into a fight before Ryan.
Still, by mid morning, Ryan knows it's time for him to go back home.
"You don't have to go," Seth says lowly as he pauses the game. He turns around, looking straight at Ryan. "You can stay here."
Ryan chuckles, shifting his gaze to the floor. "You know I can't."
Seth surprises Ryan once again by taking his hand in his.
Ryan looks up quickly, hand stiff.
Seth smiles.
With a soft sigh, Ryan squeezes Seth's hand.
"We can still see each other, right?"
Ryan pauses for a moment before accepting that he does want to keep on seeing Seth. The corners of his lips curl upwards, the smile feeling comfortable on his lips. "Sure, you know where I work."
Seth chuckles, shaking his head before leaning down for a kiss.
Seth's kisses Ryan forcefully and with eyes shut tight and Ryan thinks that maybe Seth fears this will be the last time he kisses Ryan.
Ryan kisses back, hoping to reassure him.
When Sandy drops him off at his house, Ryan thanks him with a slight nod and a ghost of a smile. He sets his backpack on the porch and unlocks the door.
He blinks twice before processing the fact that all furniture is gone. He searches the rooms which is futile because he knows he won’t find anything. He picks up the note his mom left behind on the counter.
Five lines that mean nothing as Ryan tries to swallow the surprise, shock and undeniable disappointment.
He looks up as he feels a hand on his shoulder. Sandy looks around at the place before looking down at him.
"Come on. Let's go."
Ryan doesn't say anything, only grabs his bag and leaves the house, Sandy behind him.
Closing the door of the car after him and as he pulls the seatbelt across his chest, Ryan thinks of Seth's smile and laughter.
It eases the tightness in his chest. It makes things easier, more manageable. It helps him breathe.
Finished: May 10th, 2004. Posted on August, 2004.