Written 3/4/06. 800 words.
I had completely forgotten this, but I started to write a completely new season 2 at one point because I was so unhappy with where the show had gone after season 1. This is as far as I got. As you can see, my ambitions are often way higher than what I actually end up achieving (or having the attention span for, really).
Ryan sneaks into Theresa’s room, where he sits on the end of the bed. “Hey,” he whispers.
“Hey.” She smiles in the darkness. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, really, I just wanted to know how you were doing.
After this morning, with you vomiting everywhere, I was worried.”
“Ryan. That’s sweet, but it’s called morning sickness, and it happens when you’re pregnant. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“I know, it just seemed worse this morning. I almost called the doctor.”
She sighs. “You know we can’t pay for that.”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t.”
“Oh, thanks,” she says sarcastically. Then, changing her tone, “I feel a lot better. But it’s nice to have the company. I was just thinking about my mom.”
“She still insisting we get married?”
“No, she understands, I think. At this point, I’ve managed to convince her it’s all right this way. She knows we have separate bedrooms. She just doesn’t understand why we’re not together.”
“So did she do something today, or were you just thinking about it?”
“I just wonder if she’ll change her tune when the baby’s born.”
“Of course she will.” Ryan leans down to kiss her forehead. “She’ll be a fabulous grandmother. You know that. She raised you.”
“And look how I turned out.” It’s hard to tell whether she’s joking or just bitter.
“Don't,” Ryan says, “You know you turned out well. Look at our neighborhood. Our brothers are in jail for god only knows how long, Eddie’s abusive… if you look at the old gang, it’s amazing the two of us turned out so well.”
“I know. You know what I wish? I wish Arturo would be around when the baby’s born. He doesn’t even know he’s going to be an uncle. I miss him. You know how close we’ve always been.”
“Even when he used to groan about his kid sister following him around?” Ryan teases.
“Trey used to complain about you all the time, too, buster.”
“I know.” Then he sighs, placing his head in his hands. “I wish Seth would be around, too.”
(Theme song; opening credits)
Seth stares into the horizon. “Tahiti used to be like the perfect destination, but now it only feels like a bitter dream I used to have in a previous life. I guess it’s just you and me, Oats,” he says to the plastic horse he holds in his right hand. His feet dangle into the water over the dock. “Hey, that was kind of poetic. In a dorky way. Maybe I should be a writer.” He sighs. “So, Catalina. At least we made it this far without any supplies or rations. I still wish we could’ve gotten to Tahiti, though, you know? Just for that final ‘fuck you’ gesture to Ryan.”
Seth stares at his plastic horse, which looks back at him accusingly. “Okay, fine, Oats, it’s not his fault. All right? I know that. It’s his stupid misguided sense of justice, of needing to do the right thing. Of course my only friend has to have a huge fucking hero complex. Stupid Theresa.” The horse in his hand continues to stare. “Okay! God, dude, you’d think you’d at least be on my side. I know, it’s not her fault either. It’s not anyone’s fault. But Ryan’s the easiest, most obvious target to be pissed at, okay? Leave me alone.”
Someone clears their throat behind him, and Seth turns around, startled. He stares up into the face of a pretty blonde girl. “H… hi,” he stutters. “If you heard that… I don’t usually talk to myself. Or, not to myself, but to…” He holds up Captain Oats and waves him around. “You know. Anyway. Not something that’s normal for me. Or, well, anyone, for that matter. I’m Seth,” he says, standing up and holding out his hand. She shakes it. “Jessica. Nice to meet you.”
“You too. Do you live here?”
“Summer house. On the ocean.” She points down the sand. “But I’m from Aspen.”
“You ski? ’Cause that’s all I know about Aspen, but I’ve never been there. I’ve never been to a lot of places. I mean, probably more than some people, but not nearly as many places as most people in my town. My girlfriend –” He swallows. “My ex-girlfriend skis in Aspen. Sometimes. Um.”
If Jessica notices that Seth is visibly uncomfortable, she doesn’t show it. “Cool. I snowboard. My parents ski, though. So where are you from?”
“Newport Beach. Orange County. It sucks majorly.” Seth says.
“Never heard of it,” Jessica promptly replies.
“Really? That’s awesome. It’s not worth hearing about, trust me. So, what is there to do around here?”
(blah blah blah finish scene later; make her not a mary-sue.)
Kirsten washes dishes over the kitchen sink.