Chapter 5

Seth pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine, but he didn't get out of the car right away. When he turned to face Ryan, he still looked pale, and his eyes were heavy. His left eye was already swelling.

"Just let me do the talking, okay? Everything will be fine."

Ryan closed his eyes and held his breath. He thought he might be shaking again. He picked up his backpack and opened the door, then followed Seth into the house. Kirsten was on them before they had even closed the door.

"Oh my God, what happened? Are you guys okay?"

"We're fine, Mom," Seth said, even as he let his mom hug him tightly.

Ryan stayed near the door, backpack clutched to his chest. Sandy looked him carefully up and down, his eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what had happened. Sandy walked up to Seth and rubbed his shoulder, leaning down to get a better look at his son's face, then approached Ryan.

"What happened?" Sandy asked.

Seth pulled away from Kirsten and stood between his parents, ready to launch into his explanation. Ryan didn't even let him get started.

"I hit him."

"What?" Sandy asked.

"Ryan-" Seth started, his eyes flashing in panic.

"I hit Seth."

"You what?" Kirsten said. Her face fell, the worry replaced by something he couldn't recognize, shock or fear. She looked to Sandy, to Seth, back to Ryan. Sandy just stood there staring at him.

"You hit Seth," he said, slowly, and Ryan nodded. His throat felt tight and he didn't think he could speak. "What exactly happened?"

Seth jumped forward and spun around to face his parents, his hands spread wide in front of him, as though to keep them from coming any closer, keep them away from Ryan.

"It's not a big deal, guys," Seth said, the words spilling out so fast that they tumbled together. "I went to Chino to get Ryan, and he was, someone had hit him, and he was waiting for me, at his mom's place. And she wanted him to stay and talk but he wouldn't. And we got outside and I called her a bitch. I shouldn't have said it."

Ryan backed up as Seth talked, pressing his backpack into his chest. He felt dizzy, like he couldn't breathe, and the room seemed to be spinning. He stopped when he'd backed into a corner. They all stared at him, and Seth stopped talking.

Sandy stepped around Seth and began to approach, and Ryan bolted. He pushed off the wall and tried to lunge past Sandy and Seth, but Sandy grabbed him by his arm before he could escape. Ryan flinched, suddenly afraid of being hit, and tried to wrench free. Sandy refused to let go, and he stepped in front of Ryan, locking both hands on Ryan's shoulders and holding tight even as Ryan continued to pull away.

"Ryan. Stop it," Sandy said, his voice severe but not dangerous.

Ryan stopped fighting. His head was throbbing, his chest felt too tight. When he felt Sandy's hands relax on his shoulders, he pulled back and Sandy let him go. But a moment later Sandy had a hand at Ryan's elbow, and he was guiding him into the living room, toward a couch. Ryan let himself be pulled along, backpack still cradled to his chest, and finally sat on a couch facing the pool outside. He leaned forward, muscles tense, ready to run. From the corner of his eye he saw Sandy nod to Kirsten, and she and Seth left for the kitchen, both of them casting nervous glances at Ryan. He turned his head away from them.

Sandy didn't sit. His head still lowered, Ryan let his gaze drift up toward Sandy, pacing in front of the windows. He was still wearing his pajamas and a robe that was tied loosely at the waist. Sandy frowned and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

Ryan knew he'd betrayed all of them—Sandy, Kirsten and Seth. He'd lied to them, made them believe he could handle this on his own, and instead he'd let himself lose control. He'd attacked Seth and hurt him. He'd ruined his chances there. They could never let him stay now. He'd been given the best opportunity of his life and he'd thrown it away because he couldn't let go and he couldn't put his past behind him.

"Tell me what happened," Sandy said finally, turning to face Ryan, his arms crossed over his chest.

"It doesn't matter."

"No," Sandy said sharply, before Ryan had even stopped speaking. "Enough of that. It does matter."

"I hit-"

"I know you hit Seth. We'll deal with that. But first you're going to tell me what happened."

Ryan stared hard at his feet, his face burning where he could feel Sandy watching him. He dug his fingers into his backpack. He swallowed hard, licked his lips.

"My mom," he started. The words stuck in his throat, but he pushed forward. "She went back to him."

"Her boyfriend."

Ryan nodded.

"After everything…" He couldn't make himself do it. He couldn't say it. Ryan swallowed again, kept his eyes to the floor. "It's never going to change."

Sandy sighed again, and when Ryan risked a glance at him, Sandy was looking out the windows, his eyes bright in the morning sunlight. He looked tired, drained.

"Maybe not," Sandy said, still staring out the window.

Ryan closed his eyes and tried not to think about it. He could feel the tears building but he forced them back with deep breaths that made his chest ache. Ryan cringed but didn't pull away when he felt a hand on his knee. He opened his eyes to find Sandy perched on the coffee table in front of him.

"Why'd you hit Seth?"

"I don't know," Ryan said. It was the truth.

"You beat up my kid. I'm gonna need a better answer than that."

Ryan felt his mouth go dry and turned away, blinking rapidly. He'd beat up Seth, but he still didn't have any answers.

"Okay, you won't talk, I'll talk for you. Your mom lied to you. She let her boyfriend kick your ass. She pissed you off." Ryan narrowed his eyes as Sandy spoke, saying out loud everything he didn't want to hear or think about. "You were hurt and you were angry and you couldn't do a thing about it."

"What am I supposed to do?" Ryan said, his voice quiet but hard. He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together.

"You talk about it. Let us help."

Ryan tried to laugh but it came out choked and desperate. He shook his head.

"Who am I supposed to talk to? Seth? Kirsten? You?"

"Yeah, take your pick." Ryan snorted and Sandy sat back on the table and studied him for a moment. "You think we won't understand."

"Seth doesn't," Ryan said sharply. "How could he? I don't even understand. She's my mom and I'm the one who went back to her."

"That's right. And you're mad at yourself too. You're mad at everyone because it's a crappy situation and it isn't fair."

"I wasn't mad at Seth," Ryan insisted.

"Yeah, you were."

"But Seth didn't do anything."

"No, and you shouldn't have hit him," Sandy said. He squeezed Ryan's knee, and Ryan raised his eyes to look him in the face. "You didn't give yourself a lot of other options. You have to find a better way. You have to come to us. Talk to us. Trust us."

Ryan let his gaze fall back to the floor.

"It's not that easy," he said.

"I know. But you have to try," Sandy said, his voice serious, demanding. "Because what happened today, it can't happen again."

Ryan swallowed and bowed his head. His hands were clenched so hard that he could feel his pulse throbbing in his fists. His head hurt.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I let you down."

Sandy sighed and took his hand away from Ryan's knee.

"Yeah, you did," he said.

"What if you can't trust me again?"

"It's gonna take some time, and effort," Sandy said. "But you'll get that trust back."

Ryan nodded slowly and felt the tears coming back. He closed his eyes. He didn't dare look Sandy in the face.

"Why don't you get some rest. Take a shower, clean up. We can talk about all this later."

More talking. Ryan was done with talking. But he would take what escape he could for now, so he stood and followed Sandy into the kitchen. Seth and Kirsten were sitting at the kitchen table, Seth with an icepack pressed to his face. Seth started to stand but Sandy waved for him to stay where he was.

"It's early," he said. "We're all tired."

He left it at that, and Seth nodded and tried to smile at Ryan, but he couldn't quite manage it. Kirsten folded her arms over her chest, her eyes darting to Sandy but not to Ryan. She looked scared, and she had a deep frown on her face that he hadn't seen in months.

Ryan left the kitchen without a word.

+++++

After showering and changing clothes, Ryan felt drained and numb, like the events of the past 24 hours, or even the past week, had been washed away and wouldn't bother him anymore. He collapsed onto his bed and fell sleep before the memories could start hurting him again.

He woke up hours later, sore and hungry, but still pleasantly numb. His face felt swollen and puffy. In the bathroom, he risked a glance in the mirror and scowled at the dark, heavy bruise that stretched from the top of his left cheek to just below his eyebrow. At least the cut had stopped bleeding, but it looked red and angry and he thought it might even leave a scar. While he'd slept, his hair had dried into a tangle that stuck nearly straight up in the back, so he quickly dunked his head under the faucet in the sink and smoothed it down. He was as presentable as he was going to get.

Ryan slipped a blue hooded sweatshirt over his tank top and pulled on a pair of jeans, then walked to the main house in his socks. He paused briefly before the back door, entirely uncertain about what to expect inside. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Ryan smelled bacon. Sandy was at the stove, his back to the door, and Kirsten stood at the counter cutting oranges into thick wedges. Kirsten met his eyes briefly before going back to her oranges. Sandy turned when he heard the back door close.

"Ouch. That eye looks sore."

Ryan shrugged.

"It's okay."

Kirsten glanced at him again. She'd stopped slicing but she was gripping the knife so hard that it shook slightly in her hand. She set it down and wiped her hands off on a towel.

"Why don't you sit down, let me take a look at your eye."

"Nah, it's fine."

"It doesn't look fine," Kirsten said. She pointed at the couch in the den. "Sit."

He stood for a moment in the center of the kitchen as Kirsten turned and rummaged through a drawer, then followed her orders. He sat on the edge of the couch, hands clasped tightly between his knees. Kirsten joined him a minute later and sat on the coffee table in front of him, setting a glass of water beside her and a first aid kit in her lap. Her fingers were shaking as she opened the kit and found the items she needed. She looked up into his face.

"Does your head hurt?"

Ryan shook his head no. She frowned at him, clearly not believing him, and Ryan wondered if he'd just messed up again, giving her one more reason not to trust him. Kirsten took out a bottle of aspirin and fumbled with the childproof cap. She swore softly before finally getting it open and shaking two pills into her palm. Without a word, she held her hand out to him and he took the pills from her, trying not to think about the way her fingers trembled. She handed him the glass of water, and he swallowed the pills.

He winced but fought the urge to recoil from her when she reached up to brush the hair away from his forehead. Her fingers were cold but gentle, either because she was trying to be careful or she didn't want to touch him. He glanced up at her through his bangs, keeping his head down.

"I think you might need stitches," she said. She pushed softly on his chin, moving his head to the side so she could better see the cut over his eye.

"It stopped bleeding," Ryan said. He let his gaze drift back toward her face but kept his head still. She met his eye and her frown deepened before she looked away.

"I guess it'll be fine," she said, and turned back to the first aid kit. She squeezed ointment onto a cotton swab. "This might hurt a little."

It did, but Ryan didn't react as she cleaned the cut. He blinked quickly when she was done, clearing the stinging tears out of his eyes.

"How's Seth?" he asked as Kirsten reached for a bandage. Her hands paused over the first aid kit and he glanced up at her face again. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was tight. Ryan looked away, not wanting to deal with the anger he saw there.

"He's fine," Kirsten said quietly. She quickly taped the bandage over his cut then began putting all of her supplies back into the first aid kit. Ryan stared at his feet, the guilt and shame nearly overwhelming. He rubbed his palms on his knees, wanting desperately to get up and leave.

"Hey, guys."

Ryan and Kirsten both jumped at Seth's voice. The first aid kit fell off Kirsten's lap and landed upside down on the floor, bandages and tape and packets of painkillers spilling all around their feet. Ryan immediately slid off the couch and onto his knees on the floor and began picking up the supplies. Kristen joined him, but shooed away Seth when he tried to help.

"Why don't you relieve your dad in the kitchen," Kirsten said. "He and I need to talk to Ryan."

Ryan froze for a second at Kirsten's words. There was still more to come. They could still tell him he had to leave, that he wasn't working with their family. Hands shaking now, he collected the last of the first aid items from under the couch and dropped them back in the kit.

"Thanks," Kirsten said. She reached under the coffee table for a roll of medical tape. When she was facing him again he swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, barely managing to speak at all. He let his gaze flicker over her face.

"I know you are," she said. Her hands rested in her lap and she wasn't fidgeting anymore. She just seemed tired. "I'm sorry too."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing. Ryan looked up when Sandy walked into the room. Kirsten stood and stepped to his side.

"Sit down," Sandy said to Ryan. "We need to talk about your punishment."

Ryan nodded and sat back on the couch. Sandy and Kirsten stood over him, Sandy with his hands buried in his pants pockets, Kirsten with her arms crossed over her chest. Ryan was stuck between them and he didn't know where to look.

"We think a month is reasonable," Sandy said. Ryan's head bobbed up at that.

"A month?" he asked.

"I know that sounds like a long time, but this is serious," Sandy said.

Ryan frowned, confused.

"We're grounding you for a month," Kirsten said. "No TV. No Playstation. No-"

"You're grounding me?" Ryan interrupted, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"Look, I know it probably doesn't seem fair, considering everything that's happened," Sandy started to explain.

"No, yeah, it's fine," Ryan said. "I've just never, you know, been grounded."

"Your mom never grounded you?" Kirsten asked.

"She's not much of a disciplinarian," Ryan said. "In the, um, traditional sense."

"Oh," Kirsten said.

"Well, so okay, this is a first," Sandy said, quickly regaining his composure. "You come straight home after school, every day. No weekends. No dates. No movies with Seth."

"For a month," Kirsten said.

They both watched him seriously, so he nodded, feeling weak with relief. Grounding was not dangerous. It wasn't permanent. It wasn't being sent away, or told he was no good, or being hurt and humiliated.

"Okay," he said.

"Okay," Sandy repeated, and after studying Ryan for a moment, he returned to the kitchen.

Ryan and Kirsten followed him, Kirsten heading to the counter to finish slicing oranges. Sandy replaced Seth at the stove, and when Seth turned around, Ryan got his first good look at the damage he'd done. Seth was bruised in deep blue and black along his chin and under his left eye, which was nearly swollen shut. Ryan looked away, the guilt washing over him again.

"I'm sorry," he said when Seth was standing in front of him.

"I know. It's okay."

"How can it be okay?" Ryan asked quietly.

"Hey," Seth said, and before Ryan could back away Seth folded him into a hug. Startled at first by the sudden contact, Ryan stood very still for a moment, his back and shoulders rigid. But when Seth didn't let go right away Ryan relaxed, then closed his eyes and returned the hug. Seth squeezed him once and pulled away.

"We're like brothers, right? That's why it's okay."

"You sure?" Ryan said. "We're cool?"

Seth laughed and punched Ryan lightly on the shoulder.

"Yeah, we're cool. Of course we're cool."

Seth opened the cupboard over Ryan's head and took out a stack of plates, and together they set the table. Sandy was the last to sit down, after carrying over a platter of pancakes and bacon.

"So how long did they give you?" Seth asked, spearing two pancakes and dumping them on his plate. When Ryan didn't answer right away, Seth glanced up at him. "You're grounded, right?"

"A month," Ryan said.

"That's all?" Seth asked, and Ryan couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "Dude, I got like a week and I didn't even do anything."

"You know you're not supposed to take the car without permission," Kirsten said. "Can you pass the syrup, Ryan?"

Ryan handed her the syrup then looked back up at Seth.

"You're grounded too?"

"Yeah," Seth said. He was slathering his pancakes with butter. "I can't believe you only got a month."

"Seth," Sandy said, and Ryan recognized a warning to shut up.

"He beat me up. That's totally like a two-month offense. At least."

"Seth," Kirsten warned, echoing Sandy.

"What? Is it too soon? We aren't ready to joke yet?"

Sandy and Kirsten both pierced him with glares.

"Okay, okay," Seth said, waving a fork in one hand and a knife in the other. "Sorry."

Ryan blinked at his own empty plate, not sure whether he should laugh or run from the table. He heard Sandy ask Kirsten about another trip to Home Depot, and was vaguely aware of Seth teasing them about it, but he tuned out the conversation until it was a gentle jumble of noise in the background, warm and comforting.

He still couldn't quite keep up with this family, was still intimidated by their dance. Part of him still wanted to run to the pool house, or even back to Chino. But Ryan picked up his fork and stabbed at a pancake instead. He chewed slowly and studied the faces around the table as they shared their animated conversation. He didn't look down, at least not right away, when Sandy caught his eye and smiled. These people would never replace the Atwoods; they would never really be his mother or father or brother. But they were his family and he wasn't going anywhere.

-End

Author's last note: Thanks again to Maud for the excellent beta work, especially the last-minute, late-night word wrangling. Also, since a few people have asked…the challenge that inspired this story was to write a (hopefully believable) scenario where Ryan hits Seth. Mission accomplished?