Every Song

Saturday night, brain off, so I threw on The O.C. season two—Jenny gave it to me for my birthday a while back and it had been sitting around. I didn’t think it would land the same way, but the opening credits hit and suddenly I was back there, seventeen, sweaty from the lake with chips and a cold beer, about to watch Ryan and Seth spin through their little catastrophes.

Everything moved the way I remembered. Ryan’s back in Newport, Seth’s his usual mess, Marissa’s starting her nosedive, new villains ready in the wings. The thing that got me was the music. I knew every song drifting through the background—not because I’d been listening to them, but because they lived in my head for years. They were on my iPod, got played until I couldn’t hear them anymore, became the sound of being young and thinking a TV show mattered. Maybe I should dig out those soundtracks, throw them back in rotation. Better than what I’ve got going now.

I should get back to this. It’s still playing.