Rating: hmm PG maybe
Word Count: 1,156 words
Summary: Ryan's thoughts as he is left alone in the pool house for the first time. I was feeling a little sad at the thought of the OC never returning for another season so I decided to write a little one shot from Ryan's first night in Newport.
Ryan looked around the pool house at all the lavish things carefully organised and stashed away. He’d never been in a real pool house before. Theresa had often told him about the things rich people had but when she’d mentioned a pool house he’d thought she’d made it up.
What was the point of it? It was a just a box of glass. He was sure that if there was a strong enough storm, the room would fall in. Why was there a bed in it? It seemed a little strange, the size of the main house made it look like there should have been plenty of bed rooms so what was the need of another one outside?
He didn’t understand rich people. They had too much money for their own good. His house back in Chino would have probably been able to fit into here no problem and that was his entire house. This was just a room with a bathroom attached.
Mr Cohen had mentioned that he had a son. He wondered what he’d be like. He wondered if he’d look like that guy he’d seen pick up that girl earlier, tall, blonde and muscled.
His thoughts drifted to his mom. Maybe if he returned there in a few days, she’d have changed her mind about kicking him out and he could go home. Back to where pool houses and huge mansions were aspects of the imagination and dreams of the young. Back when you would be so young and innocent that you’d think becoming rich was possible for a Chino kid.
He wondered what Trey was up to, the thought of having to stay in prison for so long sent shivers up his spine. The amount of time he’d spent there had been bad enough and that was only for a few days.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. It was low but the mattress was so bouncy. The mattress he had at home was hard and lumpy from where he and Trey had jumped on it when they were bored and young. His mom had got it cheap from a friend and he didn’t like to think about what had gone on before they owned it. The friend wasn’t the most self restrained. She’d had even more boyfriends than his mom did.
He rubbed his hand over the fluffy comforter and was surprised at the thickness. At home it was so thin and smelled of old cigarettes and alcohol. He couldn’t remember the last time it had been washed.
The contrast between the two homes was huge and Ryan almost laughed at the fact that he was spending the night in such a crazily rich place.
Theresa would lose it if she were to see him now. He felt guilty leaving without telling her but she hadn’t answered the phone, Arturo had, and he had told him there wasn’t room for him at their house. Plus she had Eddy now.
He leaned back into a lying down position in the bed and looked at the tall ceilings. He shouldn’t be here, this was completely wrong. A 15 year old kid from Chino did not belong here. But where else could he go? His mom didn’t want him. His brother and father didn’t want him, besides they were in jail.
There was only a choice between the streets or here and he didn’t particularly feel like living on the streets.
He wondered why his life was so screwed up. If there really was a God like Theresa’s mom always said there was then why would he allow him to go through all this? Why would he punish him? What had he done to make him turn his back on him?
He sighed and thought through his options. He could run away, maybe to Austin to visit Richard. Richard was the only boyfriend his mother had had who didn’t beat him up. But what if he couldn’t find Richard? Or what if Richard had a family now? It was better to be homeless in a place that he knew rather than a place that he didn’t know. He could go back to his house and see if his mom had changed her mind. But what if she hadn’t changed her mind? He didn’t think he could face any more rejection from her.
The final option was to stay and see what would happen. Mr Cohen seemed nice enough and anywhere that provided a roof over his head was good enough for him but he knew that this wouldn’t last.
He pulled his jacket off and folded it carefully. Placing it next to his bag he stood up and began unbuttoning his jeans. He placed them next to his jacket and turned out the light.
In the dark, the reflections from the pool were visible on the ceiling. It was so quiet and peaceful here. No cars racing past, no drunken shouting and definitely no police cars. The only sound was the waves of the ocean, crashing against the shore.
He made a mental note to try and go to the beach before he left. He’d never felt the sand between his feet as he walked along the shore. He’d never gone paddling in the sea or felt the waves bashing into his legs.
Trey used to tell him stories of trips they did when they were much younger, building sand castles with their father. He never knew whether they were just stories or if they were real. He certainly didn’t remember going.
His only memories of his father consisted of drunken arguments with his mother and fists raining down on him for doing nothing.
He liked to believe that that was only because he had been too young when his father went away. He liked to think that his life back then had been better than that once upon a time.
A feeling of homesickness came over him at the thought of Trey and how it had once been. He missed having a big brother he could depend on.
He felt dread for the unknown and what the future would hold for him. Would he end up like his father? The thought of that made his stomach turn. He wouldn’t be able to bear turning out like that. The thought of hitting his children and wife made him wince. He’d promised to himself long ago that he would never do that.
He promised himself that no matter what happened; he would never hurt anyone that he loved. He promised himself that he would never turn into his father.
He hoped that one day, something good would happen and he’d be able to break the general trend held by his family. He would not fall into the Atwood trap. He would make something of himself. With that he sunk into the soft sheets and closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be a new day.