A/N: It's been a while hasn't it. My college applications are all in so I don't have that in my way; I was accepted to North Carolina School of the Arts! I love writing so I will never completely disappear!

Disclaimer: I merely own my black converse all star high-tops.

Happy Reading, Converses Rolled Down

"Come on you have to go...I mean she asked you right?"

"Yeah...but," Ryan pulled a wife beater over his head, and then sat next to Seth on the floor of the pool house.

"But what man? She obviously wants to see you there or she wouldn't have asked you," Seth cried.

"I just don't think my going is such a good idea."

"And why the hell not?"

"Girl like that...she's bound to have a boyfriend," Ryan sighed, releasing the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Yeah, Luke, but that doesn't mean you don't have a shot."

"Yeah, Seth I'm sure you know all about getting girls," Ryan wiped his face, his trademark way of calming himself, "I didn't mean..."

"Didn't mean to tell me that I'm a loser?"


"Over and done Ryan, it's all right I know what I am, but I don't need you to put me in my place."

"Seth, come on man. I didn't mean what I said."

"Yes you did, or you wouldn't have said it. It's fine Ryan really, forget it."

"No, man it's not okay. I didn't mean to make an impulsive judgment about you, I hate when people do that to me I thought I was a better person than that. But I'm not. Hey, how about I make it up to you and go with you to this fashion show?"

"Yeah man, there you go!" Seth slapped him on the back and watched Ryan's fist curl, "dude, are you alright?"

Ryan attempted a smile, "yeah I'm good. You better go get ready."


Marissa tightened her jaw as she watched her reflection dance before her; when reality and reflection collided, she took another sip from the coffee cup. The familiar thick liquid slipped into its usual hiding place in the back of her throat as she finished tying the dress on her thin frame.

"'Rissa, hurry up honey. You don't want to be late to your own fashion show now do you?" Julie screeched from the bottom of the mansion stairs.

"Coming," Her voice cracked, and she began her trek to the stairs.

'Steady, steady. You don't need to hurry, it's just another Newport party...Will He be there?'

Her spine shivered at the thought of him, and a smile graced her face.

"You're really going to wear your hair up 'Rissa?"

Julie groaned and pulled Marissa out to the driveway.

"I thought it look good," Marissa stated absent mindedly.

"Not with a face structure like yours it doesn't," she began to fuss with Marissa's hair pulling strands in opposite directions, "there that's better."

"Thanks," Marissa said sarcastically at the sight of her hair in the car window.


Summer sat eyes forward, to avoid eye contact with anyone she didn't want to speak to, with her sweater in her lap covering the bruises. Damn Marissa for talking her into coming, and sitting in the front row no less, she would get even with Marissa soon, but her mind wasn't on Marissa. Her thoughts were on that night, the night that will eternally haunt her dreams, her reality, and her life.

'Is that him? Is he the one who raped me?'

Every boy in the room was a suspect, and a possible savior. What rough hands explored her uninvited? From what mouth did that beautifully soothing voice come? Luke caught her eye, and she waved him over to her table. Luke Ward was a good guy, deeper down, he cared for Marissa and he genuinely worried about Summer.

"Hey Summer, how's it goin'?"

"Could be better," she avoided his eyes, some pity laid within them but Summer didn't want pity from some water polo player who was probably friends with her rapist.

"Well, it's good to see you out."

"Out? As opposed to in bed mourning?" Summer yelled, standing. The sweater fell to the floor, a light sound but one that didn't go unheard.

Luke drew his arm down and picked up her sweater, "here. Look, I'm just glad you're here, alright?"

Summer sat slowly back down, she whispered, "Thank you," and turned her eyes back to the stage.

Luke took the hint and walked over to a much more contented looking group of people.

A delicate hand found its way to Summer's shoulder, "Summer?"


Kirsten studied the room, looking for a potential for conversation, but found no one fit for the job. Sandy drew his hand from her waist, and turned her toward him.

"It's going to be okay," he searched her eyes; he needed a reason for her mood.

"I know that. I worry more about Seth than I do about Ryan."

"No need to worry about me momma," Seth laughed.

"Seth, go find Ryan and yourself a seat," Sandy demanded.

He saluted and pulled Ryan toward the tables by his forearm, "come on Ry."

Sandy waited until Seth and Ryan had disappeared into the crowd, "Ryan's good for him."

Kirsten smiled, "I love you."

"Hey there's my wife, would you mind staying a little longer that other lady scares me...in fact, she reminds me of Julie Cooper," Sandy leaned in and kissed her nose and took her hand.

Kirsten slapped his chest, "Don't ever compare me to,"

"Julie," Sandy croaked.

Julie Cooper made her way towards the couple squealing "Kirsten you made it!"

"Julie," Kirsten returned Julie's, surgically manufactured, smile with her own most convincing one.