Disclaimer: I do not own The O.C.; Joshie Washie does. But I do own Chloe. She's all mine, fwahahaha!
Chapter One: Just A Ride
"Life, it's ever so strange
It's so full of change
Think that you've worked it out then
Right out of the blue
Something happens to you
To throw you off course and then you break down
Yeah, you break down
Don't you break down…"
Marissa Cooper sat in the sand, toes dug deep into it, and her knees against her chest. She had also placed her chin on them and wrapped her arms around them.
She simply gazed at the ocean, trying to forget how sick she felt, physically and emotionally alike. She'd occasionally steal a glance at the colors melting together with each other in the sky, but mostly kept her focus on the waves. And the enormous problem only she had detected.
Marissa Cooper, you see, is reserved in this kind of situation. Mostly because she knew she'd never have the balls to say anything about it, even though it was about to become inevitable.
She was only wearing pajama pants and a sport's bra, and a thin, buttoned jean jacket to hide the only very slightly swollen stomach, though she wished she could take it off because it was unusually hot today, even now, at seven thirty in the morning. Nobody was around as this moment though, so she slipped it off until the thing was hanging from her wrists. She'd keep it that way so if somebody just happened to show up, she could quickly put it back on.
The breeze was nice, and it appeared to be playing with her gorgeous, light copper hair as it pleased. Marissa would have to occasionally tuck it behind her ears to get it out of her blue eyes, which had lost a sheen that was once there, but because it was so lightweight in the Pacific Ocean's very breath, it hardly stayed there for long.
She kept her eyes distant and unfazed by the quiet, ambient environment, the only peace she'd had for two whole months. It was a scorching dawn, but it was nice to be alone for at least two whole minutes. She'd spent the whole two previous months solely focusing on getting out of the hellhole where she was forced to live in with Julie and Caleb. Marissa spent so much time with Summer, for moral support for each other. They both now loathed all of the male species, with the exception of their fathers. Their real fathers.
And, if this kid was a little guy, she supposed she wouldn't hate him.
Whatever the matter, she hadn't even considered abortion. But, Marissa did have her mind set on adoption. She didn't want this kid with a life as screwed up as hers.
But how was she going to keep this a secret?
It wouldn't be too long, now. And that really, really sucked.
Marissa, not realizing Summer's approach, quickly put the façade up over her abdomen. "Uh… S-Sum? What're y-you doing here?" she questioned nervously.
"Wondering what you're doing here." Summer retorted, sounding crueler than she intended.
"I'm just…" Marissa trailed off. "Out here. Escaping Lucifer."
"Oh," Summer understood her reason for escape. She'd be out as often as possible if she lived under the Nichol-Cooper roof. But it still didn't really explain why she wore the extremely clashing PJ pants and a jean jacket. Together!
"Summer," Marissa sighed. "You're my best friend, right?"
"Yes," Summer replied slowly, not knowing where this was heading, as she sat in the sand next to her.
"Coop, get to the point."
Another elongated sigh was released. "I'm pregnant. Two months along."
"I had the same reaction."
Summer's eyes widened. "Did Ryan… ?"
"… Yes." The answer was hesitant, and it took a quite a bit of time for her to finally spit it out.
"Wow…" Summer avoided Marissa's gaze, then asked with a bit of reluctance, "What are you going to do… I mean, Chino… is, well, in Chino."
"I'm going to have it…" she decided with heavy eyes. "But don't tell anyone… I'm seventeen, Summer. I can't be someone's mother.
"I don't want this kid growing up with a family as screwed up as mine… I don't want this baby to have an invisible father and a cracked up asshole for a mother," before Summer could protest, Marissa continued, her voice shaky. "I—I'm giving it up for adoption…"
The sun slowly rose from the horizon on that day like it had every day before. The light illumined the large suburbia, falling on perfect little mansions and manors and tamed emerald lawns. Large oaks dotted some of the pastures in the quiet park in its center, yellowing leaves falling slowly off of the branches they'd been attached to for so long. And on the house at near the corner of that street, Kirsten Cohen awoke with a start.
She sat upright in her oversized bed; sweat coating her forehead and nearly inaudible pants and gasps for a single breath escaping her lips. Her pupils were widened from complete terror that still remained in her conscience. Her fingers brushed her thin arms; the tingle of phantom pain from her nightmare seemed to be slowly disappearing.
The dream seemed to be so… real… so vivid, like it was actually happening. "Seth is out there, he's weak, and he's going to die," the taunting voice from her nightmare echoed in the depths of her mind. But Kirsten shook it off, the fatigue she usually encountered on summer days slipping away as she rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom in her comfortable pajamas.
Kirsten was, not for once, not eager to another day in Newport Beach. And despite the fact she hadn't fallen asleep at a late hour, she was fatigued, and the dream wouldn't vanquish from her thoughts.
Yawning, she approached the shower, twisting the knob to allow the frosty water to flow onto the bathtub's base and into the drain. It was a sweltering day, unusual for California's marine climate, and the stream felt so pleasant. But it wouldn't get her mind off of her son, her sons, who were both out there, away from the comforts of home. She was vexed so much lately, her every contemplation including anxiety. Everything was just so wrong…
She swore she heard a door swing open. It could have been her imagination, perhaps, but…
Kirsten twisted the handle again, the flow of water slowing, then stopping. She quickly applied a robe and ventured out of the bathroom cautiously, exploring the large, sinisterly vacant house. And vacant it remained.
She sighed, in her mind's eye hoping—praying—that it may have been Ryan or Seth. But it was neither. Kirsten had set her hopes too high, and she wished she hadn't even gone out. She ambled with slippery feet to the shower.
Tap, tap, tap, tap…
Now she knew she heard something. Quickly turning about, she ran to the foyer, the source of the noise.
"Marissa?" she was genuinely surprised the seventeen-year-old, who quickly burst into hysterics, wrapped her arms around Kirsten and sobbing loudly. In the awkward embrace, Kirsten stroked Marissa's hair, gently calming and comforting her in a motherly way that Marissa had rarely experienced. "Marissa?" Kirsten repeated gently. "What's wrong, is it Caleb? Did Caleb do something to you?"
She shook her head. "Ryan…" was the only audible word out of her cries.
"Oh, sweetie, it'll be alright," Kirsten promised softly.
"N-No… it won't," Marissa gulped, swallowing her tears. "I'm pregnant."
Author's Note: Okay, guys, I'm just playing around with this one. I may or may not update in a while, depending on my muse and feedback. Feedback always helps, people.