Part seven
Oct. 24th, 2003 09:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hackthis_archivePrevious sections can be found here.
Telegraph Avenue VII: Train in Vain
Seth woke up the day after his birthday with a crick in his neck and ringing in his ears. Every muscle in his body was bitching about his having passed out on the floor by the front door, and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and stay there for a week. Or two. Or forever.
His shirt was rucked up around his stomach, and his jeans were stained dry in the wrong places as an ode to his activities the evening before. Based on his undisturbed sprawl by the front door, he felt pretty sure Ryan hadn’t come home last night, and again, he very much wanted to disappear into his room forever. Or just until Ryan came back. Or Jamie forgave him. Or they built a time machine, and he could go back and fix everything.
He wasn’t really feeling picky with the throbbing in his head and the taste of cigarette ashes in his mouth. Not that he knew what cigarette ashes tasted like, except for that one time when he’d discovered that people liked to put their cigarette butts in empty beer cans.
The dull sunlight coming in the window nearly blinded him, and it took him several seconds to realize that that ringing wasn’t in his head.
Crawling on hands and knees, he scrabbled over to the phone and picked up the handset.
Seth’s throat felt as though he’d been swallowing razors. “Jami -- Ryan?”
“Who?”
The distinctively shrill voice echoed down the line, rattling Seth’s already sensitive nerves, and he dropped the handset on the floor.
The plastic clacked on the hardwood, and Seth cursed several times as he tried to pick up the phone, which seemed distinctly eel-like.
The phone buzzed loudly as Seth finally managed to dig the handset from underneath the sofa. He also found thirteen cents.
“Hey,” he responded finally. He climbed up onto the sofa, stomach down, and cradled the phone to his ear. He curled up towards the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. It made the room stop spinning.
“Cohen, what’s wrong with you, are you hungover?” Summer’s voice was way too perky for the day Seth was already having.
“No. Yes,” Seth’s brain sparked and then died. “Probably.”
“Have I taught you nothing?” she lamented. “Have you taken any Vitamin C? Alka Seltzer? Berocca? Ibuprofen? God, you sound like shit. You would’ve thought you’d never had a drink before.”
Seth snorted. “That would be like saying you’ve never had a drink before either. Speaking of alcoholics, how’s sorority life?”
“Don’t be bitter just because you’re not a Greek.”
“I can think of better things to be bitter about,” he snarked. “I understand your desire to land yourself a yuppie with a private jet, stock in Brylcream, and a house in the Hamptons, but how exactly is your sorority going to do this for you again?”
There was a clicking on line, and Seth sighed.
“Whatever,” she trilled. “Don’t hate, and hold on, that’s call-waiting: it could be somebody important.”
Seth sputtered as she switched over before he could think of a suitable reply. Clearly, the problem wasn’t just that he was hungover, but that he wasn’t hungover *enough* because then he could go declare today a sick day, fob off Summer, and go to sleep. Or not.
The coarse weave of the sofa felt impossibly rough against his cheek, and the sofa smelled stale, if that was at all possible.
He didn’t really know.
“Okay, so what’s up with your avoidance issues?”
Seth hadn’t even heard the phone click back over, and he winced, thankful that Summer was five hours away. “What are you talking about? I don’t have avoidance issues. I am all about confrontation. I am the King of Confrontation.”
“Whatever, Cohen. I send you like the best birthday present ever, and you can’t even call to say thank you?”
Even Summer could hear his sigh.
“What? Didn’t you get it? Are you telling me Chino stole it? Are you telling me you didn’t like it? What kind of ingrate are you – I spent a lot of time picking that out. I even had to go all the way to Hollywood to get it!”
Summer continued yammering for several seconds while Seth busied himself with rolling over so that he could actually get a better idea of what the hell he was being ripped a new one for.
The coffee table was still packed high with presents Seth hadn’t opened the day before, which was pretty much unheard of. He had woken his parents up at 12:03 a.m. on his ninth birthday, because it was officially his birthday, and he wanted his presents.
Yesterday, though, Ryan had been so insistent on getting to Max’s that Seth hadn’t really thought about anything else.
He hadn’t thought about a lot of things.
He sighed again.
“Cohen!” There was a long pause. “Seth?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s wrong? You’re not snarking back; something must be wrong. Is somebody dead? Do you need me to help you hide the body? Oh god, did Chino kill somebody? Do you need bail?”
Seth smiled into the phone. They hadn’t been the most idyllic couple, but Summer made a very loyal friend. “It’s cool,” he began lamely. “I can totally handle it.”
“Whatever. Didn’t I just say I’d help you hide the body? Talk to me. I can fix it. You’ve seen me with Superglue and a Rolodex.”
“It’s…” Seth paused as he tried to figure out how to tell his ex-girlfriend that he’d started dating boys, including her best friend’s ex. Except that it wasn’t dating. There was just a lot of sex and hurt feelings. Not that there was anything wrong with the sex part.
“Dude!” Summer’s voice exploded in his ear, and Seth’s eyes watered. He so did not do the hangover thing well.
“If you’re going to be all secretive I have better things to do with my life. We’re throwing a big Halloween party tonight and there are pledges to order around and stuff. I don’t need you acting all sulky and Marissa-like. I already have her for that.”
Seth sniggered in spite of himself. Pushing himself up on one elbow, he swung his legs around so that he was sitting on the sofa properly. Sort of. Slumping was a kind of sitting. “Okay, but no screaming until I finish. Think of it as your charitable contribution to society.”
“Whatever, my dad totally gives to Make a Wish. Just tell me already. I live with eleven drama queens, I don’t need another Jessica Simpson in my life.”
“I am, was, am seeing this… this guy. Jamie. And –“
Seth’s confession was cut off by Summer shrieking in his ear. “Oh my god, you’re dating boys now? Who are you, Leonardo DiCaprio or something?”
“Talking here,” he reminded her.
“You’re seeing a boy, that’s so… strangely hot. Jesus. Is he cute? Is he blonde? Brunette? Oh god, is he a dork too? He must be a dork to date you.”
“Summer.”
“*Okay*, being quiet now.”
Seth cleared his throat. “So, I was seeing this guy, Jamie.”
“Is he cute? Guys named Jamie are normally cute.”
“*Summer*.”
“Okay, okay. Sorry.”
“He’s a junior from New York. Albany. He plays the guitar, and he’s… yeah, good-looking.”
“I knew it.”
“Shut up.”
“Hey!”
“Can I just tell you and then you can say whatever? Please?”
There was a long silence until Summer spoke up. “Being quiet here, can we get to the issues sometime today?”
Seth cleared his throat unnecessarily. It hurt. Everything hurt. His hangover was turning into a full body ache. “So, I was, am, was seeing Jamie, and… and I like him, and he likes me. But, um, there was this other guy that I’ve always liked, and he surprised me yesterday when I was supposed to hang out with Jamie, and I stood Jamie up.” Seth paused. “He didn’t take it well.”
Summer made a noise of derision. “Would you?”
He carried on as though Summer hadn’t said anything. “And this guy, the one that I’ve always liked, he um, I’m pretty sure he feels the same, but he didn’t know about Jamie. And then Jamie was waiting for me when we came – when he dropped me off, and yeah, okay. It was all of the bad,” Seth finished up.
There was a heavy silence, and then Summer began to laugh uproariously. “Oh my god, Cohen, what hell were you thinking?” she gasped out.
“Not really helping out here,” Seth pointed out, prodding a large box wrapped in blue with his sneaker. Randomly he lifted his arm and smelled his shirt. He smelled like he’d slept on the floor: a floor that hadn’t been cleaned in two months.
“Seriously,” she managed, hooting with amusement. “You’re finally out of the closet, and then you turn into Hugh Hefner. Only gay.”
“What? It wasn’t like that at all! Hey, Rikki Lake, if you’re not going to help me, could you leave me alone so I can wallow in misery and play lots of Radiohead and Johnny Cash?”
“I don’t suppose I have to tell you that you brought this on yourself.”
“You think?”
Summer spoke right over him. “I mean you meet this guy, who I’m thinking must be pretty great to get you to finally come out the closet.”
“What do you mean *finally*?”
“You are so not fooling anybody.”
“You did date me, you do remember this, right?”
“It was an experimental phase,” Summer said dismissively.
“What about Anna?” he shot back.
Seth could feel the chill over phone. “Do not start talking about Miss Blue Collar if you want my help, okay?”
“Sorry.”
“As I was saying, it seems pretty obvious to me what you need to do.”
“Oh, then please enlighten me, Dionne Warwick.” Seth slumped on the sofa more and pushed at another gift with his right toe.
“Eww, like I would call that cut-rate hack. Seriously though, for whatever reason you met this guy, came out, and then Ryan finally got a clue and now you have to figure out who you want.”
Summer’s statement jarred Seth so badly that he slipped right off the sofa and kicked most of his presents off the table. They landed with a clatter.
“What? Who? Nobody said anything about Ryan,” he protested weakly as he rubbed at his bruised rear. His fingers brushed over the CD case still in his back pocket, and he pulled it out reluctantly. The cover was a still from Superman: Birthright that Jamie had altered. It must’ve taken him hours; the idea made Seth’s stomach hurt.
“Don’t pull that stupid number with me, Cohen. You two are more obvious than Siegfried and Roy. Maybe Marissa didn’t see it, but I did. So, it seems to me that you need to stop sitting around being hungover and go get your man. Whoever he is.”
Seth sputtered helplessly. “It’s not that easy,” he protested.
“No, it’s probably not,” she agreed. “But most things aren’t. The point is that you like Ryan, and he likes you. You have to decide if you want to be happy with him, or happy with this Jamie guy. Um, is he rich?”
“What? No. I don’t know, at least I don’t think so. He plays the guitar.”
“Eww, you’re dating a struggling musician? How 90’s can you get?”
“Hey, don’t knock it until you try it.”
“Um, no. Is he good in bed?”
“Summer!”
“What, just asking? Randomly, how are you managing to date two guys when you’re taking like a bazillion classes? Do you sleep? How do you find time to have sex? Never mind, there’s always time for sex with college boys. They take like ten minutes.”
“Okay, first, that was so far in the too much information category that I may never recover. And second, I’m not taking that many courses. The writing is just a seminar. Physics is three hours, yeah, but it’s only once a week and the lab I can do whenever. Poetry, we won’t go there. So that technically only leaves me with Psychology and 20th Century Lit.”
“Cohen, you so need a break. No wonder you’re about to go insane.”
“Sanity is highly overrated,” Seth quipped.
There was a scuffling sound on Summer’s end of the phone. “Whatever, hold on, one of the pledge maggots wants something.”
Seth shook his head as she yelled something at someone. Even covering the phone, Seth could hear her loud and clear. Cradling the phone with his shoulder, he poked at the packages under the coffee table. When a certain loopy scrawl caught his eye, he pulled the package out from under the table. It seemed rather light to be boxers.
He set it on his lap, preparing to unwrap it when Summer came back on the line. “These people couldn’t wipe their own asses without me,” she complained.
“Then you should probably go buy some disposable gloves,” Seth quipped.
“Okay, ew. And also, ew.”
There was a long pause in the conversation, and Seth thought of Jamie. They had probably hit the seven minute mark; his hangover just made it feel longer. He picked at the corner of the present in his lap.
“Seth?”
“I’m not dying, you don’t have to call me by my name. I know you think it’s Sheldon or something.”
“Shut up, dork, and listen to me because I have to go show these people how to blow their noses. You like Ryan; you’ve always liked Ryan. Everybody who’s not in denial knows this – that happens to be more people than you think. If you decide to be with him, that’s good, and also hurry up because there are like bets on this and stuff.”
Seth sputtered and ripped a long strip off wrapping paper off his present.
Summer carried on. “I don’t know this Jamie, but if you’re honestly conflicted about being with Ryan then he must be something pretty special. So, if you do decide you want him instead, I’m am so coming up to see what all the fuss is about.”
“Yeah, but what—“
“*You* have to make a decision though; I know you’re all about prevaricating, but try it. It might do you some good. Also, if you seriously don’t like my present, that’s okay, but you are so getting boxers for Hanukah just so you know.”
Seth froze and looked down at the present in his lap. Clearly whatever it was it wasn’t Gucci boxers.
“Also, you know what they say about getting a refund for all the classes you skip? It doesn’t happen. So go to class, idiot, okay?”
“Who are you and what have you done with Summer Roberts, party girl extraordinaire? Did that sorority of yours suck your brain dry?” Seth protested.
“Seriously, Cohen, if I speak to you next week, and you’re still hungover and pimping I will be bitter. Don’t make me bitter, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good. I have to go.”
“Right, go, conquer the world. We’ll talk soon.”
“Yeah, whatever. I love you too, freak.”
Seth blinked as Summer hung up. Of course she would love him now that he preferred boys.
Typical.
Turning the phone off, he set it on the sofa behind him, and looked down at the present in his lap. The curiosity was killing him. Or maybe that was just his hangover
Ripping the paper off the box, he stared at the white cardboard box that remained on his lap. There was no name on it, which was pretty much unheard of where Summer was concerned.
He picked up the package, which was quite clearly not boxers, and shook it. It shifted around slightly, but was definitely too light to be clothing. It was also too square.
Setting the box back on his lap, Seth opened it, and was blinded by a huge yellow and red plastic bag. His heart jumped when he realized his present was from Amoeba Records.
He opened the plastic bag and felt his heart lurch, again.
Summer really had gone all out. She’d gotten him London Calling on vinyl.
*
After being guilt-tripped by Summer, Seth had every intention of going to all his classes that day. He even unwrapped his presents in a burst of energy, but unfortunately they didn’t do much for his mood since he couldn’t brag about them to Ryan. Eventually, Seth stuck the rest under the coffee table.
By the time he’d dragged himself to his room and taken a shower it was well past 10:30. It was pointless to go to his poetry class eight minutes late. Plus, he still had a low-grade hangover, and he thought if he stuck around the house Ryan might come home to change, or get something, or even to yell at him some more.
He could handle the yelling, but the leaving had messed him up badly, and it had happened *twice* the night before.
So when Seth sat in his room, staring at the huge mess that was his floor, he tried to figure out what he was going to do until Abnormal Psych. He resolved that whatever it was, was going to have to be completely non-boy related.
He then broke his resolve two seconds later by contemplating going into Ryan’s room and shackling himself to Ryan’s bed. After all, Ryan had to come home to sleep at some point, right?
Seth was also tempted to put in the CD Jamie had made for him, but he wasn’t sure he could listen to it without discovering that he was a lot more emotional than most men were supposed to be. He tried to waste time watching cartoons and messing around with his Playstation, but gave up on both eventually.
He needed to *do* something; Summer was right. He just had no idea what the hell that something was.
Going back into his room, Seth booted up his G6 and launched the iTunes application. What he needed was loud music, and lots of it. Making sure his speakers were plugged in, he waited until the crazy guitars of The Ramones ‘I Wanna be Sedated’ kicked in, before going back o the living room. He wandered into the kitchen to find something to drink, and wound up doing the dishes instead.
His voice cracked as he sang along to Gorillaz ‘19-2000’, and he put himself to shame rapping along with 50 Cent’s ‘P.I.M.P.’ When he finished with the dishes, he emptied the refrigerator into a random garbage bag and gathered up the leftover pizza boxes.
Over the next two hours, Seth straightened up the apartment to the best of his ability, completely forgetting about his hangover.
When he took the trash out, he found out it was raining, and smiled. Something about the rain fit his mood.
Heading back inside, he changed shirts, pulling an Anaheim Angels’ tee shirt over a gray, long-sleeved thermal shirt. It was only after Seth had grabbed his books and jacket, and left the house, that he realized what he’d done: he was wearing a shirt supporting Ryan’s favorite baseball team over a shirt he’d borrowed from Jamie.
He was quite clearly a masochist. A stupid one at that.
As he headed up Telegraph he vaguely took note of all the people dressed up for Halloween. Most were dashing into stores to avoid the steady drizzle, but Seth’s steps were slow and plodding despite his lack of umbrella. The rain was good, if cold.
Tolman was all the way on the other side of campus, and it was only as Seth passed by A&E, Moses Hall and Wheeler in succession that he realized that he’d been playing in the devil’s backyard for weeks. How had he not noticed that the English building, the Philosophy building and the Architecture building were all within spitting distance of each other?
It probably had something to do with Seth’s recently developed hope/dread that everybody with wet, blonde hair was either Ryan or Jamie. Of course Seth’s life didn’t work like that at all, and Summer was wrong; there was no possible way he could be pimping with his kind of dumb luck.
After a small trek, Seth came to the Psychology building, and froze as his hand hit the handle for the door. He was about to go into a class that had Rusty as a TA. Rusty who had played in a band with Jamie. Rusty who was good friends with Jamie.
Seth was so stupid. The only thing worse than realizing he was stupid was the sound of Jamie’s voice in his head, snapping that he wasn’t.
He wondered if Jamie would say the same thing now.
Shaking his head and running his fingers through damp curls, Seth sucked it up and went inside the building. He couldn’t very well drop the class now, and going MIA for the rest of the semester was not even a possibility. He just had to hope that Rusty wasn’t a Godfather fan and had no desire to avenge the wrong Seth had done to his friend.
Seth also decided he needed to stop watching so many mafia movies.
He chose a seat in the back corner, nevertheless, because stupid or not Seth had had enough of getting ripped a new one.
He enjoyed most of the lecture on substance disorders and was pretty pleased when it seemed they were getting out early, until Professor Sims announced that their exams were graded and ready to be handed out. Seth swallowed and slumped in his seat as the professor left, and Rusty began calling out names for people to pick up their papers.
The good thing about having a last name at the start of the alphabet was that it put a short life to Seth’s stress. However, when his name was called and he loped to the front of the class, Rusty handed him his exam and then asked him to stay behind.
Seth’s day officially hit rock bottom.
In the course of less than 24 hours he’d lost his quasi-boyfriend, his best friend/whatever and now he felt pretty sure he was about to be “skooled” by his ex-quasi-boyfriend’s best friend.
His life was some baby-mama-drama bullshit right out of Jerry Springer.
When Seth used to talk with his parents about going to college neither one had bothered to mention all the Queer as Folk angst. Damn them.
He dropped into a seat near the front of the auditorium and watched as the rest of his class gathered their exams. He clutched his test in his hand, shifted about in his seat, and knocked his knees together to pass the time. In general, he worked himself into a frenzied, rabid state.
By the time Heather Zurich had collected her exam, Seth was sweating profusely and cursing the day he’d decided Berkeley was a better idea than Stanford. He jerked to attention when he realized Rusty was talking to him.
“Huh?” he said brilliantly.
Rusty cocked an eyebrow as he stuffed various papers in a black bag. “Are you all right? You seem a little distracted.”
Seth sprung out of his seat so quickly he almost tripped over his own feet.
“I know what you’re going to say,” he began, opting for the offensive approach and striding over to the lecturing podium. “I know I messed things up with Jamie, but I never meant to hurt him. You don’t have to believe me, but he’s important to me, and dude, if you’re going to start harping on me like Briscoe on Law & Order, we are going to have serious problems.”
He stopped to take a deep breath and paused when he saw Rusty staring at him quizzically.
“I was going to say I was impressed with your essay on anxiety disorders,” Rusty started. “But if there’s something going on with Jamie, I wouldn’t try and talk about it at work, Seth, give me some credit.”
Seth sighed. “Sorry, man, I know you’re a professional and stuff. Not like The Professional though, because um, yeah, you’re not a hired killer are you?”
Rusty stared as Seth babbled.
“Okay, probably not. I mean why would you be working as a TA at Berkeley, right? This isn’t Buffy or anything. You’re not working for The Initiative, right? I mean hitmen must have way cooler daytime jobs than… yeah, I’ll be quiet now.”
Rusty just shook his head. “Having some problems?” he prompted.
“I fucked up.”
Rusty shook his head as he zipped the top of his bag. “It happens, man, don’t believe otherwise.”
Seth had a bad flashback of Jerry Garcia/Rusty grading his blowjob technique, and almost spazzed out. He managed to soldier on somehow. “Yeah, but Jamie, he’s your *friend*, you know loyalty. Omerta. You’re not about to pound me into the ground or expel me?”
Rusty gaped at Seth for several seconds and then started laughing. “Seth, you’re my student. Jamie is my friend. If you’ve messed things up, that’s not my business. The last time I got involved I almost lost an eye. Also, omerta? See this red hair? I’m Irish not Italian, but as somebody with a Psych degree I recommend you lay off the mafia movies.”
Seth nodded his head. “Very wise, Obi-Wan,” he cracked as Rusty’s words sunk in. Then *all* the words sunk in.
He clapped his hands over his face dramatically. “Wait, you almost lost an eye last time?” he asked, spreading his fingers and eying Rusty carefully.
What had Jamie said about Rusty's left hook?
Rusty shook his head, and when he laughed, Seth lowered his hands to his sides.
Rusty grabbed his bag and motioned for Seth to follow him out. “You know about Ian right?”
Seth inhaled sharply as they took the stairs to the exit. “Ah yes, the famous ex.”
Rusty cocked his head to the side. “That’s certainly one thing to call him,” he said pointedly. “I mistakenly got between Ian and Jamie during a “disagreement” at band practice. At one point there were flying drumsticks, and like I said, not really someplace you want to be, you know?”
Seth was intrigued; he couldn’t imagine his Jamie like that all. *His* Jamie. He was so fucked. “Were they always like that?” he asked as they left the auditorium.
Rusty shrugged as they paused outside the classroom doors. “No, not really. They were good together, no offense. Jamie had the voice, and Ian had the talent. Even with that whole age thing, they seemed right.”
Seth nodded his head in complete ignorance. Rusty carried on.
“In the beginning, I couldn’t believe Ian was dating an undergrad, even one who sang like Jamie. But I was wrong, and we’re not talking about that.”
Rusty shifted his bag onto his shoulder and began digging around in it. “It’s like this: when you love somebody you tend to act stupid. It happens. Been there, done that, got the bruises to prove it.”
“I don’t know – I mean I acted stupid. I don’t want…” Seth trailed off when it became apparent he had no idea what he was trying to say.
“Like I said before, it’s not my place to say anything, but off the record I know that Jamie likes you. If you like him, then it’ll work itself out.”
He pulled a tiny umbrella out and unsnapped it. “I should also point out that *if* you’re lucky you get one chance to make amends for fucking things up. After that...” Rusty didn’t finish, but he clapped Seth’s shoulder briefly. His grip tightened fractionally before he let go.
Seth’s eyes widened.
“Just so we’re all clear,” Rusty explained.
Seth nodded.
“Right, good. Then I’ll see you next Tuesday.”
Seth nodded as Rusty left.
It was only as he was leaving the building with Rusty’s advice ringing in his ears that he remembered the exam clutched in his fist. Outside the rain had stopped, and when Seth unfurled the exam he saw a huge green A-.
At least he’d done something right.
*
After leaving the Psychology building, Seth found himself wandering Hearst Avenue until he looked up and realized he was at Euclid. Jamie lived on Euclid. Maybe it was a sign from God. Not that Seth and God had ever been close, but Seth was pretty much willing to take it where he could get it. Pun not intended.
He walked up the tree-lined street blankly, not really sure what the hell he was doing or what the hell was going to say when he saw Jamie. If he saw Jamie. If Jamie even let him in the apartment.
Seth stood on the sidewalk staring at Jamie’s apartment building with a mounting sense of dread and horror building inside him. He had no idea what he was doing. He needed a plan of action. He needed a plan period. One where people didn’t get shot or yelled at.
He had no idea how long he stood out there, but he came back to his senses when he felt something poking him in the calf. When Seth looked down in confusion, he founded himself eye to eye with Hamish, the Scottish Terrier that Jamie walked every morning.
Seth’s head snapped up so fast, he almost gave himself whiplash, and his heart sank when he found himself in the presence of somebody who was clearly not Jamie. Just when he’d thought his day couldn’t possibly get any worse.
“Seth, right?”
Seth nodded mutely as the black-haired girl from the Freight & Salvage studied him intently. He so didn’t need to run into Psycho Chick today.
“You’re looking for J, right?” she prompted as Hamish sniffed around Seth’s ankles.
“Yeah,” Seth’s voice cracked. “I uh, yeah.”
“Carrie,” she said, introducing herself as Hamish yipped for attention. Seth nodded again. “Not too talkative are you?” she commented dryly.
“Yeah, no. No,” Seth amended as Carrie talked over him.
“J told me he had some philosophy thing this afternoon, which is why I’m doing the dog walking, but I kind of thought he’d be with you.” Carrie smirked as Hamish stopped sniffing around Seth’s leg and began investigating a tree on the side of the building.
Seth couldn’t seem to find his ability to speak, and he shrugged instead of saying anything else.
He stood on the damp sidewalk with Carrie for several seconds, looking everywhere except at the person in front of him.
Eventually the power of speech returned. “Could you, um, tell him, Jamie, that I came by to see him. And that I, um, I’d like to see him, if he’s free. If he wants, but only if he wants because I’m not trying to stress him. No stress, because that’s bad.” Seth babbled under Carrie’s curious gaze.
“You could always wait --”
“No! No, I don’t think – I should get going. I just… yeah.”
Carrie shook her head. “Okay. Right. I’ll tell Jamie you came by then?”
Seth nodded. “Please.”
“Okay.”
*
The walk back across campus seemed to take Seth twice as long as normal, probably because he kept trying to be furtive about looking at every blonde man on campus. He still had absolutely no idea what he was going to say to either Jamie or Ryan, but he at least wanted to see them and make sure nobody had run off to Tahiti without him.
He walked past Wheeler and Doe blindly, completely forgetting about his Literature class. When he looked up and found himself at the entrance to Moses Hall, he seriously contemplated going inside and looking for Jamie until visions of Campus Security danced in his head. Plus the hurt look in Jamie’s eyes kept flashing by him, and he decided that minoring in masochism wasn’t really what he was after.
The Architecture & Engineering building was only a few feet away from Moses Hall, and when Seth walked past it, he found himself glancing everywhere, hoping, but not expecting, to see Ryan.
Eventually, Seth found himself retracing his footsteps from earlier in the day. He passed by Amoeba and Rasputin without even looking at the displays, which was pretty much earth-shattering. But instead of going home and listening to depressing music a la Radiohead, he kept walking until he saw the huge yellow and blue sign for UC Electronics.
He didn’t really think what he was doing qualified as stalking since he couldn’t actually find either of the people he was looking for.
The temperature inside the store was comparable if not colder than outside, and Seth wasn’t surprised to see the store pretty empty. Considering the plethora of computer labs on campus, there wasn’t really a need for another computer store, but it was pretty much a campus institution like the Buffalo Exchange.
The guy working behind the counter had blue tips in his hair, and he nodded to Seth companionably before going back to the notebook in front of him.
“’Sup, man?” he said as Seth crossed the distance to the counter.
“Nothing, dude,” Seth replied exchanging pounds with Max. He glanced at the landscape Max was working on. It was pretty amazing.
“Nice,” he said admiringly.
“Just some bullshit for class,” Max said dismissively. “You know how these teachers are.”
Seth nodded.
“You lookin’ for your boy?” Max glanced at Seth briefly before going back to his drawing pad.
Thankfully, he didn’t notice all the color drain from Seth’s face, but Seth coughed several times before answering. “Yeah.”
“He was here earlier, even agreed to switch shifts with me again, which you know, I was all like, *dog*.” Max waved his arms around to gesture his appreciation. “I dunno where he is now though, might’ve gone home. He looked hella wrecked. Y’all musta torn shit up last night. My whip is tight, innit?”
Seth just nodded when Max glanced at him again. “I’ll just go, um, yeah. You’re right he’s probably at home,” he said backing away from the counter.
Max nodded.
“Later,” Seth called as his left.
“No doubt,” Max called without looking up.
*
Ryan might’ve come home at some point during the day, but he wasn’t there when Seth arrived. There wasn’t a textbook out of place or a pair of sneakers to trip over when he opened the door to the apartment. In fact everything looked exactly the same as it had when he had left and that depressed him even more than he could begin to comprehend. He wanted Ryan to come home and be surprised that he’d cleaned. He wanted Ryan to come home, period.
The light on the answering machine flashed insistently, and Seth hesitated before pushing it. The machine announced there were two messages, and Seth’s heart jumped in his throat. If each of them had called… no, Ryan would have no reason to call. He could just come home. Unless he wasn’t coming home at all. Unless he was calling to say he never wanted to see Seth again and was leaving for Amherst or something.
The thought alone almost made Seth vomit. His brain couldn’t even begin to wrap around how bad it would be if Jamie had called to rip him a new one again as well.
As it turned out, his fears were a little exaggerated. The first message was from Tom, who was apparently working the evening shift at the Albatross. He promised Seth many birthday drinks if he could manage to drag his ass down to San Pablo.
The second message was from his parents inquiring after his birthday presents.
When his dad’s cheerful voice piped through the speaker, Seth’s sense of relief sent him stumbling into the bathroom where he vomited into a newly cleaned toilet.
The porcelain seat was cool against his cheek and in the dark room, he could heave and shudder as much as he wanted. He hadn’t felt ill since earlier in the day, but clearly he had pissed his karma off badly.
He spit into the toilet and wondered how the hell he was going to fix his life.
Twenty was turning out to be a shitty year.
*
Seth took a long shower and then passed out on his bed, making sure to keep his bedroom door open so he could hear if anybody came by. But no one did. Least of all Jamie or Ryan.
His dreams were strange and formless, and when he woke up it was a dark out and the alarm clock by his bed flashed 9:24. He stumbled around his room turning on the lights and stereo, and sat on his bed in his boxers trying to figure out what he planned to do with his Halloween night.
Seth had never been much for Halloween. When he was small his parents had commandeered whatever candy he’d scored, and only allowed him to keep fifteen pieces. The rest had vanished into the great vortex of “You just had birthday cake, yesterday, and you’ll get cavities if you eat all that stuff.”
As he’d gotten older, the appeal just hadn’t grabbed him at all; especially after one too many viewings of Halloween.
Shaking his head, he got up from his bed and opened his closet, marveling at how strange everything looked when it was hung up for a change. He grabbed a pair of jeans and dark green pullover with Adidas-like stripes down the sleeves.
He nodded his head as Outkast began rapping around elevators, and as he changed he tried to find a bright side to the last 24 hours. He’d seen Matt Nathanson. He’d gotten to go to Isotope. He’d definitely come out the closet. Of course he’d also lost two people who were really important to him, which also made it painfully obvious that he had concept issues with the idea of “the bright side.”
Slipping into his favorite pair of worn sneakers, he turned off the stereo, grabbed a jacket and his skateboard, and left the apartment.
The Berkeley night was damp and chilly, and there weren’t a lot of trick or treaters around at the ten o’clock hour. As he boarded down Dwight he heard the strains of various parties happening, but he didn’t feel any great sadness about not being a part of them. He did wonder briefly how Summer’s party was fairing down in Westwood, but for the most part, he had more than enough issues of his own.
Thankfully the potholes and cracks in the pavement forced him to pay attention to what he was doing, and he didn’t have a chance to think too much about how much his life sucked.
He didn’t even realize that he hadn’t eaten all day.
As he crossed University, he thought about how good it would be to see Tom and hang out for a bit with somebody who didn't want to play Salome to his John the Baptist.
Technically, Seth was totally underage and shouldn’t have been allowed into the Albatross, but that’s what having friends who worked the bar was for. They spread the word, Seth didn’t get carded, and life was all good.
Or not.
Definitely not.
It took every skill Seth had not to wipe out when he looked across the street at the entrance of the Albatross and saw Jamie standing by the doorway. He was wearing a black sweater and a pair of dark jeans that Seth had never noticed before. He was smiling at someone who had his back to Seth, and not to put too fine a point on it, Jamie looked amazing.
Seth wanted to touch him. Kiss him. Tell Jamie how sorry he was and promise not to do it again.
But that didn’t solve The Ryan Issue.
Seth’s palms began to sweat profusely, despite the chill in the air, and he gripped his board tightly as he stepped to the curb. One voice in his head began screaming at him to flee, while another began screaming sex.
Obviously Seth’s brain had strong Jamie associations.
He glanced left and right, gripping his skateboard tighter. If his mother had seen him contemplating jaywalking she probably would have grounded him until the AARP began soliciting him. But she wasn’t there, and he was. And so was Jamie.
Seth set his foot off the curb and froze when the person Jamie was with stepped into the light and they hugged. For a long time. Seth knew about hugs and that was not a friendly one. That was a “we’ve had sex/ are about to have sex/ should be having sex” type of hug.
He frowned as the mystery man turned around.
He was tall, with darkish, spiky hair and wearing a maroon leather jacket.
Seth hadn’t been gay for long, but he knew a hot guy when he saw one.
Especially when they were macking on his man.
Except that Jamie wasn’t even his man anymore, and it was all Seth’s fault.
Seth stepped back onto the curb, and tripped, landing in an undignified sprawl, and because his luck really was that bad, this drew the attention of the people across the street at the bar.
By the time Jamie called his name, he was already on his board and down the street.
-On to part VIII-
Notes: *Berocca and various other hangover remedies can be discovered here. I recommend a fry-up, a shower, and more drinking. Just saying. Also, anybody ever try Mrs Phipps Hangover Remedy? Do they just sell it in the UK? Did they stop? I think the Queen Mum used to use it.
* Here’s a map of the Berkeley campus for your edification.
Train in Vain = The Clash. London Calling = The Clash. If you do not know this or you do not know who The Clash are, you have issues. Big, huge issues. I weep for you like Madonna cried for Argentina.
*I should probably have pointed this out earlier, but the role of Rusty is indeed being played by Prince Harry. Except he’s an American. The role of Carrie is being played by Janeane Garafolo, because this is my story and I can do whatever the hell I want.
* As always this wouldn’t be possible without the K&H collective. Cheers, kids.
* There are an ungodly amount of people who have added this journal to their reading flist recently. I’m not giving away money or coupons for strip clubs, just so you know, in case you came to the wrong place. (If somebody’s giving away coupons for the strip club though, could you let me know?)
Seth woke up the day after his birthday with a crick in his neck and ringing in his ears. Every muscle in his body was bitching about his having passed out on the floor by the front door, and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and stay there for a week. Or two. Or forever.
His shirt was rucked up around his stomach, and his jeans were stained dry in the wrong places as an ode to his activities the evening before. Based on his undisturbed sprawl by the front door, he felt pretty sure Ryan hadn’t come home last night, and again, he very much wanted to disappear into his room forever. Or just until Ryan came back. Or Jamie forgave him. Or they built a time machine, and he could go back and fix everything.
He wasn’t really feeling picky with the throbbing in his head and the taste of cigarette ashes in his mouth. Not that he knew what cigarette ashes tasted like, except for that one time when he’d discovered that people liked to put their cigarette butts in empty beer cans.
The dull sunlight coming in the window nearly blinded him, and it took him several seconds to realize that that ringing wasn’t in his head.
Crawling on hands and knees, he scrabbled over to the phone and picked up the handset.
Seth’s throat felt as though he’d been swallowing razors. “Jami -- Ryan?”
“Who?”
The distinctively shrill voice echoed down the line, rattling Seth’s already sensitive nerves, and he dropped the handset on the floor.
The plastic clacked on the hardwood, and Seth cursed several times as he tried to pick up the phone, which seemed distinctly eel-like.
The phone buzzed loudly as Seth finally managed to dig the handset from underneath the sofa. He also found thirteen cents.
“Hey,” he responded finally. He climbed up onto the sofa, stomach down, and cradled the phone to his ear. He curled up towards the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. It made the room stop spinning.
“Cohen, what’s wrong with you, are you hungover?” Summer’s voice was way too perky for the day Seth was already having.
“No. Yes,” Seth’s brain sparked and then died. “Probably.”
“Have I taught you nothing?” she lamented. “Have you taken any Vitamin C? Alka Seltzer? Berocca? Ibuprofen? God, you sound like shit. You would’ve thought you’d never had a drink before.”
Seth snorted. “That would be like saying you’ve never had a drink before either. Speaking of alcoholics, how’s sorority life?”
“Don’t be bitter just because you’re not a Greek.”
“I can think of better things to be bitter about,” he snarked. “I understand your desire to land yourself a yuppie with a private jet, stock in Brylcream, and a house in the Hamptons, but how exactly is your sorority going to do this for you again?”
There was a clicking on line, and Seth sighed.
“Whatever,” she trilled. “Don’t hate, and hold on, that’s call-waiting: it could be somebody important.”
Seth sputtered as she switched over before he could think of a suitable reply. Clearly, the problem wasn’t just that he was hungover, but that he wasn’t hungover *enough* because then he could go declare today a sick day, fob off Summer, and go to sleep. Or not.
The coarse weave of the sofa felt impossibly rough against his cheek, and the sofa smelled stale, if that was at all possible.
He didn’t really know.
“Okay, so what’s up with your avoidance issues?”
Seth hadn’t even heard the phone click back over, and he winced, thankful that Summer was five hours away. “What are you talking about? I don’t have avoidance issues. I am all about confrontation. I am the King of Confrontation.”
“Whatever, Cohen. I send you like the best birthday present ever, and you can’t even call to say thank you?”
Even Summer could hear his sigh.
“What? Didn’t you get it? Are you telling me Chino stole it? Are you telling me you didn’t like it? What kind of ingrate are you – I spent a lot of time picking that out. I even had to go all the way to Hollywood to get it!”
Summer continued yammering for several seconds while Seth busied himself with rolling over so that he could actually get a better idea of what the hell he was being ripped a new one for.
The coffee table was still packed high with presents Seth hadn’t opened the day before, which was pretty much unheard of. He had woken his parents up at 12:03 a.m. on his ninth birthday, because it was officially his birthday, and he wanted his presents.
Yesterday, though, Ryan had been so insistent on getting to Max’s that Seth hadn’t really thought about anything else.
He hadn’t thought about a lot of things.
He sighed again.
“Cohen!” There was a long pause. “Seth?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s wrong? You’re not snarking back; something must be wrong. Is somebody dead? Do you need me to help you hide the body? Oh god, did Chino kill somebody? Do you need bail?”
Seth smiled into the phone. They hadn’t been the most idyllic couple, but Summer made a very loyal friend. “It’s cool,” he began lamely. “I can totally handle it.”
“Whatever. Didn’t I just say I’d help you hide the body? Talk to me. I can fix it. You’ve seen me with Superglue and a Rolodex.”
“It’s…” Seth paused as he tried to figure out how to tell his ex-girlfriend that he’d started dating boys, including her best friend’s ex. Except that it wasn’t dating. There was just a lot of sex and hurt feelings. Not that there was anything wrong with the sex part.
“Dude!” Summer’s voice exploded in his ear, and Seth’s eyes watered. He so did not do the hangover thing well.
“If you’re going to be all secretive I have better things to do with my life. We’re throwing a big Halloween party tonight and there are pledges to order around and stuff. I don’t need you acting all sulky and Marissa-like. I already have her for that.”
Seth sniggered in spite of himself. Pushing himself up on one elbow, he swung his legs around so that he was sitting on the sofa properly. Sort of. Slumping was a kind of sitting. “Okay, but no screaming until I finish. Think of it as your charitable contribution to society.”
“Whatever, my dad totally gives to Make a Wish. Just tell me already. I live with eleven drama queens, I don’t need another Jessica Simpson in my life.”
“I am, was, am seeing this… this guy. Jamie. And –“
Seth’s confession was cut off by Summer shrieking in his ear. “Oh my god, you’re dating boys now? Who are you, Leonardo DiCaprio or something?”
“Talking here,” he reminded her.
“You’re seeing a boy, that’s so… strangely hot. Jesus. Is he cute? Is he blonde? Brunette? Oh god, is he a dork too? He must be a dork to date you.”
“Summer.”
“*Okay*, being quiet now.”
Seth cleared his throat. “So, I was seeing this guy, Jamie.”
“Is he cute? Guys named Jamie are normally cute.”
“*Summer*.”
“Okay, okay. Sorry.”
“He’s a junior from New York. Albany. He plays the guitar, and he’s… yeah, good-looking.”
“I knew it.”
“Shut up.”
“Hey!”
“Can I just tell you and then you can say whatever? Please?”
There was a long silence until Summer spoke up. “Being quiet here, can we get to the issues sometime today?”
Seth cleared his throat unnecessarily. It hurt. Everything hurt. His hangover was turning into a full body ache. “So, I was, am, was seeing Jamie, and… and I like him, and he likes me. But, um, there was this other guy that I’ve always liked, and he surprised me yesterday when I was supposed to hang out with Jamie, and I stood Jamie up.” Seth paused. “He didn’t take it well.”
Summer made a noise of derision. “Would you?”
He carried on as though Summer hadn’t said anything. “And this guy, the one that I’ve always liked, he um, I’m pretty sure he feels the same, but he didn’t know about Jamie. And then Jamie was waiting for me when we came – when he dropped me off, and yeah, okay. It was all of the bad,” Seth finished up.
There was a heavy silence, and then Summer began to laugh uproariously. “Oh my god, Cohen, what hell were you thinking?” she gasped out.
“Not really helping out here,” Seth pointed out, prodding a large box wrapped in blue with his sneaker. Randomly he lifted his arm and smelled his shirt. He smelled like he’d slept on the floor: a floor that hadn’t been cleaned in two months.
“Seriously,” she managed, hooting with amusement. “You’re finally out of the closet, and then you turn into Hugh Hefner. Only gay.”
“What? It wasn’t like that at all! Hey, Rikki Lake, if you’re not going to help me, could you leave me alone so I can wallow in misery and play lots of Radiohead and Johnny Cash?”
“I don’t suppose I have to tell you that you brought this on yourself.”
“You think?”
Summer spoke right over him. “I mean you meet this guy, who I’m thinking must be pretty great to get you to finally come out the closet.”
“What do you mean *finally*?”
“You are so not fooling anybody.”
“You did date me, you do remember this, right?”
“It was an experimental phase,” Summer said dismissively.
“What about Anna?” he shot back.
Seth could feel the chill over phone. “Do not start talking about Miss Blue Collar if you want my help, okay?”
“Sorry.”
“As I was saying, it seems pretty obvious to me what you need to do.”
“Oh, then please enlighten me, Dionne Warwick.” Seth slumped on the sofa more and pushed at another gift with his right toe.
“Eww, like I would call that cut-rate hack. Seriously though, for whatever reason you met this guy, came out, and then Ryan finally got a clue and now you have to figure out who you want.”
Summer’s statement jarred Seth so badly that he slipped right off the sofa and kicked most of his presents off the table. They landed with a clatter.
“What? Who? Nobody said anything about Ryan,” he protested weakly as he rubbed at his bruised rear. His fingers brushed over the CD case still in his back pocket, and he pulled it out reluctantly. The cover was a still from Superman: Birthright that Jamie had altered. It must’ve taken him hours; the idea made Seth’s stomach hurt.
“Don’t pull that stupid number with me, Cohen. You two are more obvious than Siegfried and Roy. Maybe Marissa didn’t see it, but I did. So, it seems to me that you need to stop sitting around being hungover and go get your man. Whoever he is.”
Seth sputtered helplessly. “It’s not that easy,” he protested.
“No, it’s probably not,” she agreed. “But most things aren’t. The point is that you like Ryan, and he likes you. You have to decide if you want to be happy with him, or happy with this Jamie guy. Um, is he rich?”
“What? No. I don’t know, at least I don’t think so. He plays the guitar.”
“Eww, you’re dating a struggling musician? How 90’s can you get?”
“Hey, don’t knock it until you try it.”
“Um, no. Is he good in bed?”
“Summer!”
“What, just asking? Randomly, how are you managing to date two guys when you’re taking like a bazillion classes? Do you sleep? How do you find time to have sex? Never mind, there’s always time for sex with college boys. They take like ten minutes.”
“Okay, first, that was so far in the too much information category that I may never recover. And second, I’m not taking that many courses. The writing is just a seminar. Physics is three hours, yeah, but it’s only once a week and the lab I can do whenever. Poetry, we won’t go there. So that technically only leaves me with Psychology and 20th Century Lit.”
“Cohen, you so need a break. No wonder you’re about to go insane.”
“Sanity is highly overrated,” Seth quipped.
There was a scuffling sound on Summer’s end of the phone. “Whatever, hold on, one of the pledge maggots wants something.”
Seth shook his head as she yelled something at someone. Even covering the phone, Seth could hear her loud and clear. Cradling the phone with his shoulder, he poked at the packages under the coffee table. When a certain loopy scrawl caught his eye, he pulled the package out from under the table. It seemed rather light to be boxers.
He set it on his lap, preparing to unwrap it when Summer came back on the line. “These people couldn’t wipe their own asses without me,” she complained.
“Then you should probably go buy some disposable gloves,” Seth quipped.
“Okay, ew. And also, ew.”
There was a long pause in the conversation, and Seth thought of Jamie. They had probably hit the seven minute mark; his hangover just made it feel longer. He picked at the corner of the present in his lap.
“Seth?”
“I’m not dying, you don’t have to call me by my name. I know you think it’s Sheldon or something.”
“Shut up, dork, and listen to me because I have to go show these people how to blow their noses. You like Ryan; you’ve always liked Ryan. Everybody who’s not in denial knows this – that happens to be more people than you think. If you decide to be with him, that’s good, and also hurry up because there are like bets on this and stuff.”
Seth sputtered and ripped a long strip off wrapping paper off his present.
Summer carried on. “I don’t know this Jamie, but if you’re honestly conflicted about being with Ryan then he must be something pretty special. So, if you do decide you want him instead, I’m am so coming up to see what all the fuss is about.”
“Yeah, but what—“
“*You* have to make a decision though; I know you’re all about prevaricating, but try it. It might do you some good. Also, if you seriously don’t like my present, that’s okay, but you are so getting boxers for Hanukah just so you know.”
Seth froze and looked down at the present in his lap. Clearly whatever it was it wasn’t Gucci boxers.
“Also, you know what they say about getting a refund for all the classes you skip? It doesn’t happen. So go to class, idiot, okay?”
“Who are you and what have you done with Summer Roberts, party girl extraordinaire? Did that sorority of yours suck your brain dry?” Seth protested.
“Seriously, Cohen, if I speak to you next week, and you’re still hungover and pimping I will be bitter. Don’t make me bitter, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good. I have to go.”
“Right, go, conquer the world. We’ll talk soon.”
“Yeah, whatever. I love you too, freak.”
Seth blinked as Summer hung up. Of course she would love him now that he preferred boys.
Typical.
Turning the phone off, he set it on the sofa behind him, and looked down at the present in his lap. The curiosity was killing him. Or maybe that was just his hangover
Ripping the paper off the box, he stared at the white cardboard box that remained on his lap. There was no name on it, which was pretty much unheard of where Summer was concerned.
He picked up the package, which was quite clearly not boxers, and shook it. It shifted around slightly, but was definitely too light to be clothing. It was also too square.
Setting the box back on his lap, Seth opened it, and was blinded by a huge yellow and red plastic bag. His heart jumped when he realized his present was from Amoeba Records.
He opened the plastic bag and felt his heart lurch, again.
Summer really had gone all out. She’d gotten him London Calling on vinyl.
After being guilt-tripped by Summer, Seth had every intention of going to all his classes that day. He even unwrapped his presents in a burst of energy, but unfortunately they didn’t do much for his mood since he couldn’t brag about them to Ryan. Eventually, Seth stuck the rest under the coffee table.
By the time he’d dragged himself to his room and taken a shower it was well past 10:30. It was pointless to go to his poetry class eight minutes late. Plus, he still had a low-grade hangover, and he thought if he stuck around the house Ryan might come home to change, or get something, or even to yell at him some more.
He could handle the yelling, but the leaving had messed him up badly, and it had happened *twice* the night before.
So when Seth sat in his room, staring at the huge mess that was his floor, he tried to figure out what he was going to do until Abnormal Psych. He resolved that whatever it was, was going to have to be completely non-boy related.
He then broke his resolve two seconds later by contemplating going into Ryan’s room and shackling himself to Ryan’s bed. After all, Ryan had to come home to sleep at some point, right?
Seth was also tempted to put in the CD Jamie had made for him, but he wasn’t sure he could listen to it without discovering that he was a lot more emotional than most men were supposed to be. He tried to waste time watching cartoons and messing around with his Playstation, but gave up on both eventually.
He needed to *do* something; Summer was right. He just had no idea what the hell that something was.
Going back into his room, Seth booted up his G6 and launched the iTunes application. What he needed was loud music, and lots of it. Making sure his speakers were plugged in, he waited until the crazy guitars of The Ramones ‘I Wanna be Sedated’ kicked in, before going back o the living room. He wandered into the kitchen to find something to drink, and wound up doing the dishes instead.
His voice cracked as he sang along to Gorillaz ‘19-2000’, and he put himself to shame rapping along with 50 Cent’s ‘P.I.M.P.’ When he finished with the dishes, he emptied the refrigerator into a random garbage bag and gathered up the leftover pizza boxes.
Over the next two hours, Seth straightened up the apartment to the best of his ability, completely forgetting about his hangover.
When he took the trash out, he found out it was raining, and smiled. Something about the rain fit his mood.
Heading back inside, he changed shirts, pulling an Anaheim Angels’ tee shirt over a gray, long-sleeved thermal shirt. It was only after Seth had grabbed his books and jacket, and left the house, that he realized what he’d done: he was wearing a shirt supporting Ryan’s favorite baseball team over a shirt he’d borrowed from Jamie.
He was quite clearly a masochist. A stupid one at that.
As he headed up Telegraph he vaguely took note of all the people dressed up for Halloween. Most were dashing into stores to avoid the steady drizzle, but Seth’s steps were slow and plodding despite his lack of umbrella. The rain was good, if cold.
Tolman was all the way on the other side of campus, and it was only as Seth passed by A&E, Moses Hall and Wheeler in succession that he realized that he’d been playing in the devil’s backyard for weeks. How had he not noticed that the English building, the Philosophy building and the Architecture building were all within spitting distance of each other?
It probably had something to do with Seth’s recently developed hope/dread that everybody with wet, blonde hair was either Ryan or Jamie. Of course Seth’s life didn’t work like that at all, and Summer was wrong; there was no possible way he could be pimping with his kind of dumb luck.
After a small trek, Seth came to the Psychology building, and froze as his hand hit the handle for the door. He was about to go into a class that had Rusty as a TA. Rusty who had played in a band with Jamie. Rusty who was good friends with Jamie.
Seth was so stupid. The only thing worse than realizing he was stupid was the sound of Jamie’s voice in his head, snapping that he wasn’t.
He wondered if Jamie would say the same thing now.
Shaking his head and running his fingers through damp curls, Seth sucked it up and went inside the building. He couldn’t very well drop the class now, and going MIA for the rest of the semester was not even a possibility. He just had to hope that Rusty wasn’t a Godfather fan and had no desire to avenge the wrong Seth had done to his friend.
Seth also decided he needed to stop watching so many mafia movies.
He chose a seat in the back corner, nevertheless, because stupid or not Seth had had enough of getting ripped a new one.
He enjoyed most of the lecture on substance disorders and was pretty pleased when it seemed they were getting out early, until Professor Sims announced that their exams were graded and ready to be handed out. Seth swallowed and slumped in his seat as the professor left, and Rusty began calling out names for people to pick up their papers.
The good thing about having a last name at the start of the alphabet was that it put a short life to Seth’s stress. However, when his name was called and he loped to the front of the class, Rusty handed him his exam and then asked him to stay behind.
Seth’s day officially hit rock bottom.
In the course of less than 24 hours he’d lost his quasi-boyfriend, his best friend/whatever and now he felt pretty sure he was about to be “skooled” by his ex-quasi-boyfriend’s best friend.
His life was some baby-mama-drama bullshit right out of Jerry Springer.
When Seth used to talk with his parents about going to college neither one had bothered to mention all the Queer as Folk angst. Damn them.
He dropped into a seat near the front of the auditorium and watched as the rest of his class gathered their exams. He clutched his test in his hand, shifted about in his seat, and knocked his knees together to pass the time. In general, he worked himself into a frenzied, rabid state.
By the time Heather Zurich had collected her exam, Seth was sweating profusely and cursing the day he’d decided Berkeley was a better idea than Stanford. He jerked to attention when he realized Rusty was talking to him.
“Huh?” he said brilliantly.
Rusty cocked an eyebrow as he stuffed various papers in a black bag. “Are you all right? You seem a little distracted.”
Seth sprung out of his seat so quickly he almost tripped over his own feet.
“I know what you’re going to say,” he began, opting for the offensive approach and striding over to the lecturing podium. “I know I messed things up with Jamie, but I never meant to hurt him. You don’t have to believe me, but he’s important to me, and dude, if you’re going to start harping on me like Briscoe on Law & Order, we are going to have serious problems.”
He stopped to take a deep breath and paused when he saw Rusty staring at him quizzically.
“I was going to say I was impressed with your essay on anxiety disorders,” Rusty started. “But if there’s something going on with Jamie, I wouldn’t try and talk about it at work, Seth, give me some credit.”
Seth sighed. “Sorry, man, I know you’re a professional and stuff. Not like The Professional though, because um, yeah, you’re not a hired killer are you?”
Rusty stared as Seth babbled.
“Okay, probably not. I mean why would you be working as a TA at Berkeley, right? This isn’t Buffy or anything. You’re not working for The Initiative, right? I mean hitmen must have way cooler daytime jobs than… yeah, I’ll be quiet now.”
Rusty just shook his head. “Having some problems?” he prompted.
“I fucked up.”
Rusty shook his head as he zipped the top of his bag. “It happens, man, don’t believe otherwise.”
Seth had a bad flashback of Jerry Garcia/Rusty grading his blowjob technique, and almost spazzed out. He managed to soldier on somehow. “Yeah, but Jamie, he’s your *friend*, you know loyalty. Omerta. You’re not about to pound me into the ground or expel me?”
Rusty gaped at Seth for several seconds and then started laughing. “Seth, you’re my student. Jamie is my friend. If you’ve messed things up, that’s not my business. The last time I got involved I almost lost an eye. Also, omerta? See this red hair? I’m Irish not Italian, but as somebody with a Psych degree I recommend you lay off the mafia movies.”
Seth nodded his head. “Very wise, Obi-Wan,” he cracked as Rusty’s words sunk in. Then *all* the words sunk in.
He clapped his hands over his face dramatically. “Wait, you almost lost an eye last time?” he asked, spreading his fingers and eying Rusty carefully.
What had Jamie said about Rusty's left hook?
Rusty shook his head, and when he laughed, Seth lowered his hands to his sides.
Rusty grabbed his bag and motioned for Seth to follow him out. “You know about Ian right?”
Seth inhaled sharply as they took the stairs to the exit. “Ah yes, the famous ex.”
Rusty cocked his head to the side. “That’s certainly one thing to call him,” he said pointedly. “I mistakenly got between Ian and Jamie during a “disagreement” at band practice. At one point there were flying drumsticks, and like I said, not really someplace you want to be, you know?”
Seth was intrigued; he couldn’t imagine his Jamie like that all. *His* Jamie. He was so fucked. “Were they always like that?” he asked as they left the auditorium.
Rusty shrugged as they paused outside the classroom doors. “No, not really. They were good together, no offense. Jamie had the voice, and Ian had the talent. Even with that whole age thing, they seemed right.”
Seth nodded his head in complete ignorance. Rusty carried on.
“In the beginning, I couldn’t believe Ian was dating an undergrad, even one who sang like Jamie. But I was wrong, and we’re not talking about that.”
Rusty shifted his bag onto his shoulder and began digging around in it. “It’s like this: when you love somebody you tend to act stupid. It happens. Been there, done that, got the bruises to prove it.”
“I don’t know – I mean I acted stupid. I don’t want…” Seth trailed off when it became apparent he had no idea what he was trying to say.
“Like I said before, it’s not my place to say anything, but off the record I know that Jamie likes you. If you like him, then it’ll work itself out.”
He pulled a tiny umbrella out and unsnapped it. “I should also point out that *if* you’re lucky you get one chance to make amends for fucking things up. After that...” Rusty didn’t finish, but he clapped Seth’s shoulder briefly. His grip tightened fractionally before he let go.
Seth’s eyes widened.
“Just so we’re all clear,” Rusty explained.
Seth nodded.
“Right, good. Then I’ll see you next Tuesday.”
Seth nodded as Rusty left.
It was only as he was leaving the building with Rusty’s advice ringing in his ears that he remembered the exam clutched in his fist. Outside the rain had stopped, and when Seth unfurled the exam he saw a huge green A-.
At least he’d done something right.
After leaving the Psychology building, Seth found himself wandering Hearst Avenue until he looked up and realized he was at Euclid. Jamie lived on Euclid. Maybe it was a sign from God. Not that Seth and God had ever been close, but Seth was pretty much willing to take it where he could get it. Pun not intended.
He walked up the tree-lined street blankly, not really sure what the hell he was doing or what the hell was going to say when he saw Jamie. If he saw Jamie. If Jamie even let him in the apartment.
Seth stood on the sidewalk staring at Jamie’s apartment building with a mounting sense of dread and horror building inside him. He had no idea what he was doing. He needed a plan of action. He needed a plan period. One where people didn’t get shot or yelled at.
He had no idea how long he stood out there, but he came back to his senses when he felt something poking him in the calf. When Seth looked down in confusion, he founded himself eye to eye with Hamish, the Scottish Terrier that Jamie walked every morning.
Seth’s head snapped up so fast, he almost gave himself whiplash, and his heart sank when he found himself in the presence of somebody who was clearly not Jamie. Just when he’d thought his day couldn’t possibly get any worse.
“Seth, right?”
Seth nodded mutely as the black-haired girl from the Freight & Salvage studied him intently. He so didn’t need to run into Psycho Chick today.
“You’re looking for J, right?” she prompted as Hamish sniffed around Seth’s ankles.
“Yeah,” Seth’s voice cracked. “I uh, yeah.”
“Carrie,” she said, introducing herself as Hamish yipped for attention. Seth nodded again. “Not too talkative are you?” she commented dryly.
“Yeah, no. No,” Seth amended as Carrie talked over him.
“J told me he had some philosophy thing this afternoon, which is why I’m doing the dog walking, but I kind of thought he’d be with you.” Carrie smirked as Hamish stopped sniffing around Seth’s leg and began investigating a tree on the side of the building.
Seth couldn’t seem to find his ability to speak, and he shrugged instead of saying anything else.
He stood on the damp sidewalk with Carrie for several seconds, looking everywhere except at the person in front of him.
Eventually the power of speech returned. “Could you, um, tell him, Jamie, that I came by to see him. And that I, um, I’d like to see him, if he’s free. If he wants, but only if he wants because I’m not trying to stress him. No stress, because that’s bad.” Seth babbled under Carrie’s curious gaze.
“You could always wait --”
“No! No, I don’t think – I should get going. I just… yeah.”
Carrie shook her head. “Okay. Right. I’ll tell Jamie you came by then?”
Seth nodded. “Please.”
“Okay.”
The walk back across campus seemed to take Seth twice as long as normal, probably because he kept trying to be furtive about looking at every blonde man on campus. He still had absolutely no idea what he was going to say to either Jamie or Ryan, but he at least wanted to see them and make sure nobody had run off to Tahiti without him.
He walked past Wheeler and Doe blindly, completely forgetting about his Literature class. When he looked up and found himself at the entrance to Moses Hall, he seriously contemplated going inside and looking for Jamie until visions of Campus Security danced in his head. Plus the hurt look in Jamie’s eyes kept flashing by him, and he decided that minoring in masochism wasn’t really what he was after.
The Architecture & Engineering building was only a few feet away from Moses Hall, and when Seth walked past it, he found himself glancing everywhere, hoping, but not expecting, to see Ryan.
Eventually, Seth found himself retracing his footsteps from earlier in the day. He passed by Amoeba and Rasputin without even looking at the displays, which was pretty much earth-shattering. But instead of going home and listening to depressing music a la Radiohead, he kept walking until he saw the huge yellow and blue sign for UC Electronics.
He didn’t really think what he was doing qualified as stalking since he couldn’t actually find either of the people he was looking for.
The temperature inside the store was comparable if not colder than outside, and Seth wasn’t surprised to see the store pretty empty. Considering the plethora of computer labs on campus, there wasn’t really a need for another computer store, but it was pretty much a campus institution like the Buffalo Exchange.
The guy working behind the counter had blue tips in his hair, and he nodded to Seth companionably before going back to the notebook in front of him.
“’Sup, man?” he said as Seth crossed the distance to the counter.
“Nothing, dude,” Seth replied exchanging pounds with Max. He glanced at the landscape Max was working on. It was pretty amazing.
“Nice,” he said admiringly.
“Just some bullshit for class,” Max said dismissively. “You know how these teachers are.”
Seth nodded.
“You lookin’ for your boy?” Max glanced at Seth briefly before going back to his drawing pad.
Thankfully, he didn’t notice all the color drain from Seth’s face, but Seth coughed several times before answering. “Yeah.”
“He was here earlier, even agreed to switch shifts with me again, which you know, I was all like, *dog*.” Max waved his arms around to gesture his appreciation. “I dunno where he is now though, might’ve gone home. He looked hella wrecked. Y’all musta torn shit up last night. My whip is tight, innit?”
Seth just nodded when Max glanced at him again. “I’ll just go, um, yeah. You’re right he’s probably at home,” he said backing away from the counter.
Max nodded.
“Later,” Seth called as his left.
“No doubt,” Max called without looking up.
Ryan might’ve come home at some point during the day, but he wasn’t there when Seth arrived. There wasn’t a textbook out of place or a pair of sneakers to trip over when he opened the door to the apartment. In fact everything looked exactly the same as it had when he had left and that depressed him even more than he could begin to comprehend. He wanted Ryan to come home and be surprised that he’d cleaned. He wanted Ryan to come home, period.
The light on the answering machine flashed insistently, and Seth hesitated before pushing it. The machine announced there were two messages, and Seth’s heart jumped in his throat. If each of them had called… no, Ryan would have no reason to call. He could just come home. Unless he wasn’t coming home at all. Unless he was calling to say he never wanted to see Seth again and was leaving for Amherst or something.
The thought alone almost made Seth vomit. His brain couldn’t even begin to wrap around how bad it would be if Jamie had called to rip him a new one again as well.
As it turned out, his fears were a little exaggerated. The first message was from Tom, who was apparently working the evening shift at the Albatross. He promised Seth many birthday drinks if he could manage to drag his ass down to San Pablo.
The second message was from his parents inquiring after his birthday presents.
When his dad’s cheerful voice piped through the speaker, Seth’s sense of relief sent him stumbling into the bathroom where he vomited into a newly cleaned toilet.
The porcelain seat was cool against his cheek and in the dark room, he could heave and shudder as much as he wanted. He hadn’t felt ill since earlier in the day, but clearly he had pissed his karma off badly.
He spit into the toilet and wondered how the hell he was going to fix his life.
Twenty was turning out to be a shitty year.
Seth took a long shower and then passed out on his bed, making sure to keep his bedroom door open so he could hear if anybody came by. But no one did. Least of all Jamie or Ryan.
His dreams were strange and formless, and when he woke up it was a dark out and the alarm clock by his bed flashed 9:24. He stumbled around his room turning on the lights and stereo, and sat on his bed in his boxers trying to figure out what he planned to do with his Halloween night.
Seth had never been much for Halloween. When he was small his parents had commandeered whatever candy he’d scored, and only allowed him to keep fifteen pieces. The rest had vanished into the great vortex of “You just had birthday cake, yesterday, and you’ll get cavities if you eat all that stuff.”
As he’d gotten older, the appeal just hadn’t grabbed him at all; especially after one too many viewings of Halloween.
Shaking his head, he got up from his bed and opened his closet, marveling at how strange everything looked when it was hung up for a change. He grabbed a pair of jeans and dark green pullover with Adidas-like stripes down the sleeves.
He nodded his head as Outkast began rapping around elevators, and as he changed he tried to find a bright side to the last 24 hours. He’d seen Matt Nathanson. He’d gotten to go to Isotope. He’d definitely come out the closet. Of course he’d also lost two people who were really important to him, which also made it painfully obvious that he had concept issues with the idea of “the bright side.”
Slipping into his favorite pair of worn sneakers, he turned off the stereo, grabbed a jacket and his skateboard, and left the apartment.
The Berkeley night was damp and chilly, and there weren’t a lot of trick or treaters around at the ten o’clock hour. As he boarded down Dwight he heard the strains of various parties happening, but he didn’t feel any great sadness about not being a part of them. He did wonder briefly how Summer’s party was fairing down in Westwood, but for the most part, he had more than enough issues of his own.
Thankfully the potholes and cracks in the pavement forced him to pay attention to what he was doing, and he didn’t have a chance to think too much about how much his life sucked.
He didn’t even realize that he hadn’t eaten all day.
As he crossed University, he thought about how good it would be to see Tom and hang out for a bit with somebody who didn't want to play Salome to his John the Baptist.
Technically, Seth was totally underage and shouldn’t have been allowed into the Albatross, but that’s what having friends who worked the bar was for. They spread the word, Seth didn’t get carded, and life was all good.
Or not.
Definitely not.
It took every skill Seth had not to wipe out when he looked across the street at the entrance of the Albatross and saw Jamie standing by the doorway. He was wearing a black sweater and a pair of dark jeans that Seth had never noticed before. He was smiling at someone who had his back to Seth, and not to put too fine a point on it, Jamie looked amazing.
Seth wanted to touch him. Kiss him. Tell Jamie how sorry he was and promise not to do it again.
But that didn’t solve The Ryan Issue.
Seth’s palms began to sweat profusely, despite the chill in the air, and he gripped his board tightly as he stepped to the curb. One voice in his head began screaming at him to flee, while another began screaming sex.
Obviously Seth’s brain had strong Jamie associations.
He glanced left and right, gripping his skateboard tighter. If his mother had seen him contemplating jaywalking she probably would have grounded him until the AARP began soliciting him. But she wasn’t there, and he was. And so was Jamie.
Seth set his foot off the curb and froze when the person Jamie was with stepped into the light and they hugged. For a long time. Seth knew about hugs and that was not a friendly one. That was a “we’ve had sex/ are about to have sex/ should be having sex” type of hug.
He frowned as the mystery man turned around.
He was tall, with darkish, spiky hair and wearing a maroon leather jacket.
Seth hadn’t been gay for long, but he knew a hot guy when he saw one.
Especially when they were macking on his man.
Except that Jamie wasn’t even his man anymore, and it was all Seth’s fault.
Seth stepped back onto the curb, and tripped, landing in an undignified sprawl, and because his luck really was that bad, this drew the attention of the people across the street at the bar.
By the time Jamie called his name, he was already on his board and down the street.
-On to part VIII-
Notes: *Berocca and various other hangover remedies can be discovered here. I recommend a fry-up, a shower, and more drinking. Just saying. Also, anybody ever try Mrs Phipps Hangover Remedy? Do they just sell it in the UK? Did they stop? I think the Queen Mum used to use it.
* Here’s a map of the Berkeley campus for your edification.
Train in Vain = The Clash. London Calling = The Clash. If you do not know this or you do not know who The Clash are, you have issues. Big, huge issues. I weep for you like Madonna cried for Argentina.
*I should probably have pointed this out earlier, but the role of Rusty is indeed being played by Prince Harry. Except he’s an American. The role of Carrie is being played by Janeane Garafolo, because this is my story and I can do whatever the hell I want.
* As always this wouldn’t be possible without the K&H collective. Cheers, kids.
* There are an ungodly amount of people who have added this journal to their reading flist recently. I’m not giving away money or coupons for strip clubs, just so you know, in case you came to the wrong place. (If somebody’s giving away coupons for the strip club though, could you let me know?)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 09:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 11:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 09:53 am (UTC)ok, somehow i had gotten it into my head that this was to be the last part. clearly not.
you are doing a superb job of catching us up in seth's confusion. i don't know who he wants either!!! i love them both! what's really wrong with polyamory, i ask you. er. or. ::sigh:: i just want everyone to be happy and gettin' some.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 03:12 pm (UTC)*laughs* no, that would just be mean, you know?
i just want everyone to be happy and gettin' some.
I so need that on a shirt.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 10:03 am (UTC)bravo!
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 10:04 am (UTC)And dude. Just when I think you couldn't possibly get any better...you give us the perfect Summer. I dig Summer, and that was just so great.
I also whole-heartedly recommend copious amounts of greasy starch and more drinking for a hangover. Or pancakes. Pancakes fix everything.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 03:15 pm (UTC)I wish I could take credit, but cool shit like that is all down to
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 10:08 am (UTC)I wish I could help you out with the strip club coupons because I do have some (don't ask) but they wouldn't do you any good where you are. Then again the picture on the front is kinda nice.
Can't wait for the last 2 parts even though thinking of this ending does make me kinda sad. Okay, very sad.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 03:19 pm (UTC)Dude, I hear you about the confused in Berkeley thing. It's all so traumatic. It would drive me to drink, if I wasn't just getting over much drinking.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 10:12 am (UTC)*Obviously I understand you already know which direction this is heading. I'm just putting in my 2¢
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 03:40 pm (UTC)You would think he'd be allowed that in college, but no.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 10:22 am (UTC)And if I'm babbling, it's only because I'm so in love. Keep up the good work!
Also, while I don't have London Calling on vinyl, I do have a few of their albums. Go parental music collections!
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 03:48 pm (UTC)*dies laughing* So, are you going to watch it when it comes back on or what?
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 10:31 am (UTC)Mad Props to you girl!
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 03:54 pm (UTC)Bloody hell, are things better now?
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 10:53 am (UTC)And the tangled web gets more tangly.
I feel so badly for Seth. His life turned to utter shit on his birthday. A day of birth. Not of owohgodangst.
>:(
Man, I need a drink.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 04:00 pm (UTC)*clinks bottle*
Cheers.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 10:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 04:03 pm (UTC)Angst, like a little bit of pain, never hurt anybody. It builds character.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 11:02 am (UTC)i just grow ever more in awe of this story -- it's fucking incredible. excuse the foul mouth of amazement over here. i just cannot wait to see what happens; i'm on the edge of my seat. you're telling something fantastic here, zahra, and i'm in love with it. so, so impressed; the character development just gets better and better and better, and i love this.
*adores*
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 04:05 pm (UTC)I heart Summer, she is my sekrit girlfriend. Actually, no, but still. I'm very touched, and also a little embarassed by all your sweet comments. I'm just some hack, you know? It means a lot to me to know that you're enjoying this stuff so much, though. *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 11:07 am (UTC)Somehow I don't think it's going to be that simple.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 04:08 pm (UTC)Somehow I don't think it's going to be that simple.
Simple? Simple is a brand of shoe (http://www.simpleshoes.com/Products.asp?d=4&g=men&c=msneakers&sc=28). It should not describe life.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 11:11 am (UTC)Also: Prince Harry? Excellent choice, that one. Subconciously, though, I knew it. ;)
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 04:06 pm (UTC)You know for a story with zero drugs involved, you guys are really quick with the drug analogies. Me thinks we need to call Betty Ford.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 11:15 am (UTC)Now I'm depressed. Still. Damn you!
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 12:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 11:22 am (UTC)But these last 2 chapters? Ouch. My heart hurts. And my stomach doesn't feel too great either - and all I can think is 'fix it please fix it - it's hurty.'
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 04:11 pm (UTC)*looks through first-aid kit* I'm clean out of band-aids, sorry! Besides, a little pain is good for the soul. Builds character.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 11:50 am (UTC)In reply to your other comment, don't worry about parental harassment for my delinquency ;) Firstly, they'll never know *wink*. Secondly, if it wasn't the internet it'd just be bad science fiction, and nobody wants that!
-Tymbrimi(who's journal is temporarily deleted)
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 04:12 pm (UTC)*dies laughing*
.
Date: 2003-10-24 11:55 am (UTC)Re: .
Date: 2003-10-27 04:14 pm (UTC)Yay, feel the Summer love!
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 12:26 pm (UTC)I am still hopelessly hoping for a Seth/Ryan pairing, although I can see you setting us up for Seth/Jamie (unless that's a red herring but I don't think it is so...) Can you at least find someone for Ryan? Please... unless you have some rampant Ryan issues that I don't know about doesn't he deserve to be semi-happy to?
More soon!
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 04:18 pm (UTC)Yes, I have huge raging rampant Ryan issues. (Like all the alliteration?) My Ryan issues are that he's a huge woobie and clearly needs somebody to show him that there are good things in life. Like parties and road trips and lasagne for breakfast with dr pepper.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 12:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 04:20 pm (UTC)no subject
I half expected/dreaded a closing scene where Seth returned home to find that Ryan had removed his belongings while Seth was in class. I'm glad that didn't happen. I didn't expect to see Ryan at all in this episode; he needs time to think too.
I really like your Summer. I like her much more than the teenage Summer. She has matured nicely and you give her a solid personality. It seems like she would be a good friend; she provides the right blend of caring, humor, and strength for Seth. My favorite Summer line:
If you decide to be with him, that’s good, and also hurry up because there are like bets on this and stuff.
I'm a bit torn over who Seth should end up with. I lean in Ryan's direction, but Jamie seems like he will be better for Seth in some ways.
Ryan's taciturn nature nicely complements Seth rabid chattiness and his quiet support is usually all Seth needs. But someone [Jamie] really needed to tell Seth that he has value and he is more than the friendless nerd who latched onto Ryan as the first person to ever give him attention/affection.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 04:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 01:36 pm (UTC)Problem is, I can't decide which two crazy kids.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 04:22 pm (UTC)Problem is, I can't decide which two crazy kids.
*pats on back* I know exactly what you mean.
Thanks (once again)
Date: 2003-10-24 01:37 pm (UTC)Your timely posting makes me happy. What will I do when this story is done? Word to the person who said it's like crack.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 02:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 04:08 pm (UTC)Basically, I have so much love. But dude, most of all. That Seth sat at the front of the auditorium freaking out to get congratulated on his essay on *anxiety disorders* of all things just renews my faith in humanity (and makes me go "hee!"). The details! They're so fabulous! Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 04:28 pm (UTC)I'm always about the little things, so it's very cool me that you picked up on that. Thanks for commenting!
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 04:09 pm (UTC)In essence, I love this story and you take your time with writing it because every day that you haven't updated makes me realize just how great the story is.
/gushing.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-27 04:31 pm (UTC)In essence, I love this story and you take your time with writing it because every day that you haven't updated makes me realize just how great the story is.
/gushing.
Wow, that's some enthusiastic feedback right there. *blushes* Um, thanks, I don't even know what I say, but I'm really glad you've enjoyed the story so much, it means a lot to me to hear that.