Ryan had no idea exactly when Newport became home. Was it the second he knew Trey only wanted him in Chino to do his dirty work, pulling him back into a world of trouble and danger? Or was it the moment Arturo called him Trey's "Little Bitch." Again.
As he ate his Thanksgiving Chinese on Seth's bedroom floor, Ryan knew one thing for sure – he should have never gone back to Chino. He should have stayed in Newport, with the family who wanted him for more than being 'the Little Bitch', or 'the punching bag,' or hell, even 'the good one.'
As the weekend went on, and the Cohens had Chinese two more times, Ryan knew something else – he needed to learn how to use chopsticks. No one ever said anything, but Ryan still didn't like to see three pairs of chopsticks and one fork. It was time to make it four pairs of chopsticks and no forks.
Kirsten went back to bed early after dinner, still feeling 'under the weather', and Sandy followed behind, teasing her the whole time. Seth went to his room, trying to come up with a solution to his Anna/Summer Thanksgiving debacle.
This left Ryan alone in the kitchen with the left over Chinese and a drawer full of chopsticks. Ryan picked up a pair and studied them closely. They didn't look scary or over whelming or difficult… or anything. They looked like tiny little sticks. No big deal, Ryan thought.
He had been watching Sandy and Kirsten so he was pretty sure he knew how to hold them. Ryan was sure all he needed was practice. How hard could it possibly be?
After cleaning the kitchen and taking out the garbage, Ryan made himself a large plate of food – both Chinese and non-Chinese - and headed back to the pool house. With three walls made out of glass and no locks on any of the doors, Ryan knew there would be little chance to practice in private. Anytime anyone wanted to come in, Ryan knew he couldn't stop them.And pulling down the shades, well, in the Cohen house - that was an open invitation for someone to barge in uninvited
Ryan, therefore, decided to hide in the bathroom. At least that door had a lock, and the room had no windows. He did feel slightly foolish as he set his plate down on the sink and lowered the lid on the toilet.
Ryan's first attempt was to pick up a piece of sweet & sour chicken, but he was surprised at how slippery it actually was as he shot it across the bathroom. The slippery little sucker hit the opposite wall and slid down to the ground, leaving a streak of sweet & sour sauce behind. He attempted to pick it up, gripping the chopsticks harder, and cutting the chicken in two.
He figured it might be better if he started with something easier, and reached for a piece of bread. Ryan smiled when he managed to not only pick it up, but almost get it to his mouth before dropping it on the floor between the toilet and the sink. He decided against picking it up with the chopsticks – for the obvious sanitary reasons.
As Ryan bent down to pick the bread up, he promptly smacked his head on the corner of the sink. Swearing loudly, he threw the bread in the garbage and briefly wondered if it really was worth the trouble.
Then he remembered Sandy's concerned face and Kirsten's gentle touch when they saw his black eye and realized that yes, it was definitely worth learning how to use chopsticks.
Ryan was surveying the plate trying to decide what next to practice on when he heard him - that distinct, "Hey, Ryan? You in here?"
He quickly stuffed the plate and the chopsticks in the shower, flushed the toilet as 'cover' and washed his hands before exiting the bathroom.
"What's up, Seth?"
"Just wanted to talk." Seth looked at Ryan's flushed expression. "You okay?"
"Yeah. I just…" Ryan grabbed his stomach. "I'm not feeling all that great so can we talk later?"
"Not feeling great like the way Mom's not feeling great?"
"No."
"Oh." Seth actually sounded disappointed. "I mean, after everything in Chino, no one would blame you."
"Seth. It's not like that." Ryan again put his hand to his stomach. "Um… my stomach. You know, the Chinese didn't agree with me, I guess."
"Oh. 'Kay. I guess we can talk later than. Um, feel better."
Ryan watched through the wall of windows until he was sure Seth was all the way back in the house before going back into the bathroom. He had just placed the plate on the sink and had just sat back down on the toilet when he heard a knock at the bathroom door.
"Later, Seth!"
He muffled his groan when he heard the voice from the other side of the door.
"It's not Seth, kid. He said you weren't feeling well."
Ryan exhaled loudly and shook his head as he once again stuffed his practice plate and chopsticks behind the shower curtain and opened the door.
No sooner did he open the door then he felt a hand on his forehead and saw the concern all over the poor guy's face.
"You don't have a fever. What's up?"
Ryan pulled away from Sandy's hand. "I'm fine. Really."
"Seth said you were complaining about your stomach. You sure you didn't get hit in the gut by that acquaintance of Trey's? I know you said it was only the one punch, but you sure?"
"Yeah. No. I'm sure. Just the one punch, I swear. It's nothing. I'm fine."
Sandy studied Ryan closely, making him uncomfortable, awkward and somehow guilty. Apparently Sandy must have decided Ryan wasn't seriously ill.
"Okay, then. If you're sure, I guess, good night. If you need anything…"
"I'm fine. Really. I'm just going to change, lay in bed, maybe read for a while." Ryan grabbed a pair of sweats and a wife beater as proof.
"Night, kid." Sandy turned to leave, but glanced over his shoulder a few times, just to make sure Ryan really was okay.
Ryan took his sweats and beater back into the bathroom, locking the door once again. He again put the plate down on the sink and again sat down on the toilet. With chopsticks in hand, he again looked over the plate and heard yet another knock on the bathroom door.
This time Ryan threw the plate and the chopsticks into the shower and literally barked, "WHAT?" as he flung the door open. And came face to face with Kirsten.
"Oh, sorry," Ryan said, instantly feeling bad about snapping at her, especially since she was still wearing her pajamas and bathrobe.
"Sandy said you were feeling sick." Kirsten, too, put her hand on Ryan's forehead.
"No, I'm okay."
"Are you sure? Sandy said Seth said you said your stomach was upset."
Okay, that was confusing, so Ryan decided to stick to his mantra, "I'm fine. I swear."
"I guess maybe we shouldn't have so much Chinese."
Ryan tried not to snicker or snort. He was trying to learn how to use chopsticks so he could be just like the rest of them, and now Kirsten was deciding that maybe they shouldn't have Chinese as often? That was definitely ironic.
Kirsten again felt Ryan's forehead and then his cheeks before pulling the bottle out of her bathrobe pocket.
As she started to pour the thick pink stuff into the little measuring cup, Ryan again said, "No, really, I'm fine."
He looked at it, then at Kirsten and was about to try one last time to convince her that he was fine but decided against it. It would be too embarrassing to try to explain what he was really doing in the bathroom so he quickly swallowed the pepto-bismol to help settle a stomach problem he didn't even have.
Not knowing what else to do, Ryan handed the little cup back to Kirsten and waited for her next move. "I thought Sandy said you were going to change into your pajamas and lie in bed."
"Um, I am."
"Okay, you go do that," Kirsten said as she walked over to Ryan's bed, putting the bottle of pink stuff on his nightstand and pulling back Ryan's covers.
She headed for the kitchenette but stopped when she saw Ryan still standing in the bathroom doorway. "You're not changing."
Since it was obviously a statement and not a question, Ryan mumbled, "sorry" as he closed the bathroom door.
Ryan stood in the bathroom for a minute, trying to figure out what to do. With a shrug, he decided it would probably be best to just change and go to bed. If he didn't, who knows what a Cohen would do?
After changing, Ryan brushed his teeth, twice, trying to get the awful taste of the dreaded pepto-bismol out of his mouth. He looked behind the shower curtain at the mess of food and hoped that Kirsten wouldn't go into his bathroom for some unknown reason.
Ryan walked out of the bathroom to find Kirsten standing next to his bed – covers pulled back and pepto on the nightstand next to a bottle of water. On his way over to her, Ryan grabbed the book he had been reading then climbed into bed. He pulled the covers up to his waist and waited to see what else Kirsten wanted from him.
But she finally seemed satisfied. "If you need anything else…"
Ryan again mumbled his mantra. "No, I'm fine."
"Okay, don't stay up too late."
"Good night."
Ryan waited until he was sure he saw Kirsten close her bedroom door before he climbed out of bed and headed back to the bathroom. Even though each Cohen had made a visit, Ryan figured it would be better not to try to hide in the bathroom any more. He cleaned up the food that was all over the shower floor, but knew he'd have to wait to throw it out in the morning.
He did decide to bring the chopsticks back to bed with him and practice by turning the pages with them.