Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1888953.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      One_Tree_Hill
  Relationship:
      Julian_Baker/Brooke_Davis, Nathan_Scott/Peyton_Sawyer, Clay_Evans/Sara
      Evans, Nathan_Scott/Brooke_Davis, Jake_Jagielski/Peyton_Sawyer
  Character:
      Brooke_Davis, Julian_Baker, Nathan_Scott, Peyton_Sawyer, Haley_James
      Scott, Lucas_Scott, Clay_Evans, Sara_Evans, Marvin_"Mouth"_McFadden, Owen
      Morello, Jake_Jagielski, Millicent_Huxtable_McFadden, Jenny_Jagielski,
      Chase_Adams, Alex_Dupre, Rachel_Gatina
  Additional Tags:
      Male-Female_Friendship, Female_Friendship, Consensual_Underage_Sex, Angst
      with_a_Happy_Ending, Unrequited_Love, Falling_In_Love, Love_Triangles,
      Male_Friendship, Young_Love, Underage_Drinking, Drug_Addiction, Self-
      Harm, Teenage_Parents
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-03 Updated: 2017-06-07 Chapters: 4/? Words: 19968
****** Nobody Wants to be the Last One There ******
by Jambeth
Summary
     Julian and Brooke. Together, they are a vision straight out of a
     blockbuster. Nathan and Peyton. Together, they will more than likely
     be lost at sea, but apart they'll drown. Sometimes, though mirages
     are mistaken for visions, and life jackets aren't always enough to
     keep you afloat during a hurricane. Brulian, Neyton, Clara, and a
     bunch of other OTH characters.
***** Jabby and Bumblebee *****
I love writing and sharing my work with fellow One Tree Hill fans, but feedback
helps keep me inspired. So, please do leave me a review. :) 
 
 
Part 1
He is mesmerized by her, her eyes twinkling as she skips down the hall, a short
lavender and baby blue skirt swishing around her thighs with every movement,
her best friend begrudgingly following behind. To put it simply, she is
beautiful, breathtaking, gorgeous. And it is obvious and that every guy in a
100 foot radius thinks the same thing.
His best friend, Haley James, thumps him on the back of the head, effectively
averting his attention to her. He attempts to glare at her, but fails to do so
when he sees the heart warming smile on her face.
"Seriously Julian, are you really going to spend another year pining over
that…that airhead?"
He shrugs simply and proceeds to open his locker, his gaze wondering back over
to their current topic, only to find her gone. His eyes return to his female
best friend and she rolls her eyes.
"You're just as bad as Luke, ya know that?"
Julian, repeating her earlier action, rolls his eyes, a grin set firmly on his
face the entire time. His petite friend shoves him playfully, and he sidesteps
away from her, avoiding any other abuse she may inflict.
"I am nowhere near bad as him…" Julian disagrees, not at all liking the
accusation.
Haley snorts, but before their conversation can continue Lucas joins them, his
eyes narrow, expressive pensive as always.
"Luke, what's got you so serious?"
Julian gives her a look that says 'are you serious?', but she ignores it. Lucas
is always serious. Always sulking about something. But, that's okay. He's apart
of their little group, his family. And Julian wouldn't have it any other way.
"Whitey wants me to join the team." His blue eyes rise from the floor and
flicker between Julian and Haley. They are vulnerable and conflicted.
Haley looks up to Julian, her eyes begging him to say something, anything. But,
he remains silent.
"Well, what do you want, Luke?" The girl asks.
The blond shrugs. "I just want to play the game. I don't care where."
"Do you just want to play the game, or do you want to LIVE the game?" Julian
speaks up, his voice surprising both of his friends.
Lucas' eyebrows knit together in confusing, and Julian refrains from shaking
him. They both know the blond knows what he means, and that the basketball
player is just scared.
"What do you mean?" But the question is voiced anyway.
"I mean, it all comes down to how much you love basketball, how big of a part
of you it really is."
Haley's brown orbs are looking between her male friends, wide and anxious,
hoping that a confrontation is not about to break out. Because, while the two
men were best friends, and it was obvious they cared deeply for each other,
they still had their problems, ones the two of them only seemed to know.
Lucas simply nods. "Alright."
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
Brooke Davis desperately fights sleep, her eyelids slipping closed every once
in a while as the math teacher droned on and on about inputs and outputs.
She is awoken by a sharp stab in the back. She whips around, her eyes narrowed
in a glare. Nathan is wearing a smirk, his blue eyes dancing with mischief.
"What the hell, Scott?"
"Pay attention, Davis. You heard what Whitey said, one F and you're off the
cheer squad, miss captain."
"That squad wouldn't know what to do without me," she shoots back.
"Miss Davis, Mr. Scott. Detention." Mrs. Parker's voice is firm and matter of
fact. Yet, Brooke lets out a small whine.
"But, Mrs. Parker the first cheer practice is tonight, and well, I really,
really have to be there, or that skank will take over MY squad. Plus, Nathan,
here he's the one who poked me!"
Nathan sneers, and speaks up. "It's not like you haven't been poked with bigger
things in various other places."
Brooke spins around in her seat, her hazel eyes fiery and angry, but then her
face crumbles, and Julian has a front row seat from his spot in the middle row.
"Leave her alone." It comes out low, but angry and menacing just the same.
Nathan turns towards him, searching the room for the source of the sound. Then
his eyes land on him, and Julian meets his stare head on.
"What did you say?" The dark-haired boy stands from his seat.
Julian does the same. "I said, leave her alone."
He risks a glance over at Brooke, who is looking at him in wonder. And in that
split second that his attention is diverted, he is punched in the gut. But,
Julian quickly returns the hit, and leaves his own mark on Nathan's face,
splitting his lip and then making what will later be a black eye.
But, the fight doesn't end there, desks are knocked over, and students hurry
from their seats with shrieks and gasps. Then, Brooke is there, in front of
him, her eyes soft and his fist stops mid-swing. But, Nathan seems to not have
noticed in his fit of anger and his fist connects with the side of her face,
and she screams out her best friend's boyfriend's name.
Nathan freezes, and something in the boy changes, he looks at Brooke, and his
hands start to shake. Brooke's hand moves from it's spot where it was holding
her bruised cheek, and she is reaching for the blue-eyed boy.
"Natey, you didn't mean to. It's okay." Her voice is soothing, but it does
nothing for the tears gathering in his eyes. And Julian suddenly sees the other
man as human.
He shakes his head, and mouths the word 'never', before hurrying out of the
room.
"Julian, I am so disappointed in you. I expect this kind of thing out of Nathan
and Brooke, but not you." are the first words out of one of the male teacher's
mouth that Mrs. Parker had fetched. "Go to the principle's office."
Brooke hangs her head at the teacher's words. The teacher turns to Brooke,
seemingly having just noticed her. "You too, Miss Davis."
Mrs. Parker halts the young woman, and Julian stops in the hallway, just
outside the door as well. "Brooke."
"Yeah."
"Forget about detention." The teacher's voice is gentle and loving, and the
smile Julian loves so much shows itself just a bit, but not quite.
The dimple-smiled girl turns around, and nearly runs right into him. Her hazel
eyes look into his for a moment, and then she is hurrying down the hallway.
"Where are you going?" He asks, stupidly.
She glances over her shoulder, without stopping. "To the principle's office."
He can't help but notice the difference in her step, and the slight slump in
her shoulders, but her head is still held high.
"Oh, yeah." His voice is low, and he hangs his head.
Since he is looking down at his feet, he doesn't notice when she stops, and
nearly knocks her over. He snaps his head up, his arms coming up to balance
her.
"I just wanted to say thanks," she says, and her voice is genuine, her eyes
soft.
If someone had told him yesterday that he would have his body plastered to
Brooke Davis', the girl of his dreams, he would have punched them for mocking
him. But, here he is, and here she is, and he is completely fucking speechless.
She chuckles quietly, and he stiffens because he thinks she's making fun of
him. But, then her slim fingers are running through his hair, and he relaxes or
maybe he tenses even more, he doesn't know. All he can concentrate on is her
hand in his hair.
"I like your hair," she compliments, her voice raspy, as always. But, right
now, it sounds sexier than it normally does, even though there is no change in
it's tone.
"I hate it," he blurts out, and she frowns.
"Ya know its rude to disregard someone's compliment. Especially a pretty
girl's."
They stay like that, neither one of them making any move to separate their
bodies. Her fingers continue their massage on his scalp, even as her frown
remains on her flawless face. He clears his throat, lacking ideas of anything
else to say. Not that, that would really count as talking.
"Don't you think I'm pretty?" She questions, her voice low and oh so sexy.
"Of course I do," he answers.
She steps away, taking her touch with her.
"That compliment doesn't count," she says, walking again, not giving him time
to get his head together.
He, reflexively, goes on the defense. "Why, because it came from me?"
She turns around so she is walking backwards, and even though he doesn't want
to, he is worried that she might hurt herself.
"No, because I practically had to pry it out of you."
He wants so badly to tell her how beautiful she is, how since eight grade she
has been the main star in his every fantasy. But, when he opens his mouth,
words fail him. She tilts her head to the side adorably, and it reminds him of
a puppy. And he realizes he must look like a fish with his gaping mouth, and
quickly closes it. She seems disappointed, and he just about to say something,
anything to take away that look when they reach their destination.
They both take a seat in the little waiting area after informing the security
of the presence. Brooke suddenly looks sad, and to anyone else it would be
easily overlooked, but Julian has spent enough time watching her to know her
every emotion. It only takes a few moments before he is being called back to
see Mr. Turner.
Julian already knows his mom isn't going to care about his 'little
confrontation', as Mr. Turner put it, but the principle calls her anyway to
inform the woman of his expulsion. Not suspension. Expulsion. And Julian
immediately knows that Dan Scott has pulled some strings to have this done.
The authority figure looks apologetic, as he informs him to gather his personal
belonging from his locker, and to tell Miss. Davis to do the same. He wants to
ask why Mr. Turner won't talk to her or if he has even called her parents, but
decides its not any of his business.
When he exit's the office and spots Brooke in the chair, she is the same exact
position as before. Legs crossed, and examining her nails as if they are going
to change drastically any minute.
"Brooke," he says, effectively catching her attention, as she looks up at him.
"We're both expelled."
Her mouth forms an 'O', and she is on her feet and in front of him before he
can utter a word. "I am so sorry, Julian. This is all my fault."
She is talking, babbling even, but all he can concentrate on is the fact that
she said his name. His name actually left the perfect lips of Brooke Davis.
Then her grunt of frustration brings his attentions back to her.
"You're not even paying attention to me, are you Juju?" She accuses, her eyes
sparkling with anger.
He shrugs, helplessly. "Sorry."
Something about his apology must have made her happy, because her dimples are
out in full force, and she is dragging him out of the fronts doors of the
school by his hand.
They stop, well she stops, and he does because she has been controlling their
movement and direction the entire time.
"Please tell me you drove to school!" She pleads, her eyes are hopeful, and he
can tell she is barely containing her childish excitement.
He really doesn't want her to see his old truck, even though he is proud of it.
After his father had left, Julian had sold the mustang his dad bought him, and
with the help of Lucas and Keith fixed up his Dodge truck. His mom has offered,
numerous times, to buy him a new car, or more like demanded, insisting that it
was embarrassing to have her son driving such junk, but he declines ever time.
Her face falls at his lack of response. "You didn't, did you?"
Sighing, he retrieving his keys from his jean pocket, and she lets out a shriek
and rocks back and forth, from the heels of her feet, to the tips of her toes.
She does her little happy clap, clasping onto his forearm with both hands and
beginning to drag him towards the parking lot.
"Come on Juju, we gotta go. Like, now!"
He chuckles, and allows her to drag him. "Um, Brooke, do you even know which
vehicle is mine?"
She bits her bottom lip, looks up at him, and shakes her head. "Which one is
it?" She asks, or more like demands.
He rolls his eyes, and she glares at him.
"That one," he replies, pointing towards the old, temporarily muddy truck.
Her eyes widen, and he panics. She hates it, he just knows it.
"You like mudding. I've never been. Can we go? And it's perfect right now. I
mean, it just rained yesterday. Oh, wow. This is perfect!"
She skips over to the passenger door and attempts to open it, and then groans,
clearly impatient.
"Julian, unlock it," she whines.
He stands there, dumbfounded, shocked by her reaction by his muddy truck.
Hands on her slender hips, she comes up with a new nickname for him, one he
isn't sure he likes. "Come on, fun sucker. It's time to go!"
But, the smile playing on her lips makes it obvious its all in good fun. Before
long both doors are unlocked, and he helps her into the big wheeled, four door
truck. He inserts the keys into the ignition and starts it, but takes a moment
to watch as her manicured nails run along the dash board.
She doesn't belong in this car. She doesn't look right in it. But, then she
turns to him, smiling, a real, true, patented Brooke Davis smile and changes
his mind, almost.
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
Peyton Sawyer studies her boyfriend, worriedly. His face is bruised, but that's
not what has her worried. He's been in plenty of fights and has always come out
on top, but is always left with a little damage. There's something off about
him. And it becomes painfully obvious when he comes up to her locker and
actually folds her in his arms, kissing the top of her head.
"I love you, Pey," he whispers.
The words make her hold on his waist tighten. His feelings for her were known,
but not often spoken, or shown especially recently. But, it was moments like
this, when she is reminded why she hangs on to their bent and frayed
relationship, because even if it is damaged, it's not broken, not yet. And
she's gonna hang on for dear life until the last string holding them together
breaks.
"I love you, too Nate."
He shakes his head, and she feels the movement against the top of her head. She
becomes desperate, a feeling she hates, when he pulls away. His rough hands cup
her face, and he kisses her, gently and it lingers.
"No, you don't. You can't. I won't let you."
And because they are the middle of the hallway, with people staring at them,
she allows him the walk away. She knows he'll come back, he always does. This
is just another one of their fights. Right? No, it's not. She's not that
stupid. She knows her boyfriend, the real him, and just now, he is hurting,
worse than she's ever seen. And she will always regret having not gone after
him. She already knows that.
And there's not going to be any mind blowing make up sex after practice
tonight, or her hanging up on him after one of his half-ass apologies. She
wishes, just once, that he would let her in. That she would let him in.
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
After not hearing or seeing Julian since first period, Haley is becoming
worried. It's halfway through lunch, and Lucas has his nose in a book, while
she searches the cafeteria for her other best friend. Giving up, she pulls out
her cell phone and dials his number.
After the eighth ring, his voice intrudes her ears, it's breathless. Her eyes
narrow, her thoughts suspicious, her eyes just happening to glance over to the
cheer table and noticing a lack of a certain cheerleader.
"Hey Hales, what's going on?" He sounds so innocent that she wants to pull his
hair out.
"I don't know, you tell me. You're the one who's not at school."
"Oh um, about that. I got expelled." His voice is kinda nervous, but only for a
second, because soon he is laughing, and there is most certainly a female laugh
mingling with his. "Look, Haley, it's not what you think. It was for a just
cause, okay? Just, I'll explain everything later. Love you." Then the line was
dead.
Lucas has looked up from book some time during her phone conversation, and his
eyes are concerned.
"Is Julian okay?" He asks.
She nods, dumbly. "He sure sounded okay to me."
Lucas reaches across the table, his warm hand covering hers, settling her
shaking hand.
"Are you okay?"
"No. Yes. I mean. I don't know." Frustrated, she runs her hands through her
light brown hair. "I just, I really care about him. And she, she's gonna hurt
him. I know it."
"How do you know?"
She studies the table clothe that covers the picnic. "I just do…"
"Is it, maybe, because she's not you." It isn't a question, and that angers
Haley beyond comprehension.
She is about to retort, but he says something before she can. "Just tell him
how you feel, Hales. It's okay."
She frowns. "It's not that simple."
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
He is completely doused in mud, as is Brooke. He isn't quite sure how they
ended up in the lake, half naked. But, he doesn't mind, at all. Her face is
pensive, and she appears deep in thought.
"Who was that? Your girlfriend?"
He shakes his head. "No, just Haley, my best friend."
"Haley James," she questions, and he is surprised that she knows Haley's full
name.
"Um, yeah."
Her small hand tucks a wet hair behind her ear, even though there isn't one
there.
"She doesn't like me." And for some reason he can tell that seems to bother
her.
He wades over to her, closing the space between them. "Yeah, she does," he
assures her, even though it's a lie.
She smiles, slightly. "You're not a very good liar, Jabby."
"Jabby? Where'd that one come from?"
She smiles, full fledge this time. "Well, I looked you up on face book, and
your middle name is Andrew…so Julian Andrew Baker…Jab…Jabby."
"I am convinced now, more than ever, that smart phones are evil," he states,
his fingers trailing up her bare sides, before he begins to tickle her.
She squeals, wiggling around, trying to escape his hold on her. "Jabby, stop!"
She orders, giggling and squirming.
"Nope, Bumblebee."
"No more Jabby," he reasons.
"Okay, okay…I give..I give." As soon as she is free of him, she is hurrying to
dry ground, and yelling "jabby" over her shoulder.
He hurries after her, grabs her around the waist, and spins her around. He
loses his footing and they both end up in the sand, him on his back with his
arm out, her on top of said arm, face down, though her face is turned towards
him.
They are both laughing, though it is slowly coming to a stop, turning into an
occasional chuckle and giggle here and there. They lay in silence for a while.
"Jabby…"
"Yeah, Bumblebee?"
"You're amazing."
He remains silent, because he isn't sure how to respond to such a heartfelt
compliment coming from a girl as beautiful as her.
"I don't want this to be a one time thing, Jabby. I wanna, ya know, be
friends." She sounds nervous, but that must be his imagination.
He looks over at her, to find that she is already looking at him, her face
resting in the palm of her hands. He nods, and she smiles.
"Why didn't Mr. Turner call your mom?" The question hangs in the air for a long
while, and she is tense.
It isn't long, though, before her smile is plastered back on her face. "She
wouldn't care. She probably wouldn't even answer the phone," she explains, with
a casual shrug, but he knows, that down deep she cares, even if she acts as
though she doesn't.
"They called my mom, and she answered. But, she didn't care," he offers.
"Julian Andrew Baker, you are one amazing man," she whispers, and there is
something about this moment, so intimate, and he never wants it to end. "What
you did for me today, defending me, no one has ever done that for me. Not even
Nathan." She chuckles bitterly. "Hell, you were defending me to Nathan." She
smiles sadly. "It wasn't always like that, ya know, with Natey."
He notices the use of the nickname she had used earlier that day, and waits for
her continue, curious about her story with the basketball player. But, she
doesn't speak after that. Not for a while anyway.
"Even though Nathan is the one Dan claims, Lucas has it better, trust me." She
sits up, and begins to play with the mud clumped sand and dirt around her.
Julian frowns. "Yeah."
"Nobody's life is simple." Her voice is sad. "Perfect."
He sits up, and takes her hand in his. "Come on, school is over by now, I'm
sure."
He stands and urges her to do the same by tugging gently on her hand. She looks
up him, questionably.
"I want you to meet someone."
She smiles. "I think I should probably get dressed first," she informs him.
He chuckles. "I think you should, too."
After dressing himself, he watches, amused, as she struggles to pull up her
soaked skirt. She looks when he chuckles, a pout set firmly on her lips.
Eventually, she manages to get it up and over her hips, and they are on their
way to their destination.
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
Haley busies herself wiping down the counter, the lack of customers leaving her
with nothing to do. Then, as if mocking her for wishing for customers, Julian
enters with, none other than Brooke Davis. Her eyes narrow, and her shoulders
tense when Brooke smacks at Julian's arm, giggling at something he said.
The cheerleader doesn't laugh obnoxiously like she does, Brooke's laugh is like
a melody that carries across the room. Or at least until, the girl starts to
gasp for air, and begins to 'hehehehehe.'
The couple take a seat at a booth, across from each other. Both of them are
covered in mud, from head to toe. The brunette says something to Haley's best
friend, and he blushes, and Haley clenches her fists.
"Are you okay?" Karen's voice comes out of nowhere.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm just gonna go wait on them…"
Plastering on her best fake smile, she walks over to the table, and clears her
throat to attract their attention. Brooke's hazel eyes land on her and she
smiles widely.
"Hey, Haley. I'm Brooke Davis." Her voice is friendly. And hopeful?
Haley just nods in respond, and Brooke's smile falters, and Julian glares at
her. Not at Brooke, but at her, as in Haley. Her. And it hurts, so badly, to be
on the end of the look she's seen him give many others who have hurt her in the
past.
"I…um…can I have a vanilla root beer?" Brooke asks, and Haley studies the girl
closely, surprised that the cheer captain actually requested something, and
didn't demand it.
She nods, but this time she adds words to it. "Yeah, sure."
"Jules?" Haley asks.
"Coke." His answer is curt and it stings.
When Haley turns to leave, she pauses just long enough to hear Brooke say,
"Jabby, why were you so rude to Haley?" Her voice is scolding.
Guilt starts in her gut and spreads throughout her, swallowing her up with it's
intense, unpleasant feeling. She hurries away before she can hear Julian's
response.
Brooke's phone rings, a ridiculous pop song practically blaring, before she
answers.
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ
"Hey, P. Sawyer."
"B. Davis, where are you? Practice started fifteen minutes ago?" Peyton asks.
It was like Brooke to be late, but not for anything cheerleading related.
"Umm, yeah, about that. I got expelled."
Peyton can't stop the sob from escaping, but thankfully it's silent. "Oh, well.
I'll guess I'll see ya later?"
"Of course, P? What's wrong?"
"Um…nothing. Nathan is just acting weird, but you know him. He's probably just
in one of his moods."
The line was silent for a moment. "Yeah.."
"Well, I gotta go B. Davis. Practice is about to start. Love you."
"I love you, too. P. Sawyer."
After the call ends, Peyton throws her phone over with the rest of her stuff,
the device landing perfectly on her book bag. When she turns around her eyes
connect with a pair of blue ones she knows so well. She attempts a pathetic
smile, and its temporarily returned, at least until the other Scott boy enters
the gym.
Everything freezes, literally, as everyone in the coliseum stops to watch Lucas
walk through the door, as if he is some mythical creature. Then, as if everyone
in the room is all one being, all eyes turn to Nathan, waiting for his
reaction. The dark-haired boy just shakes his head, eyes turning to her,
searching for something, and whatever it is, he seems to find what he needs,
because he smiles. The look leaves her breathless.
A couple new girls, a red head who is very well endowed in the chest area, and
a brunette who is practically skin and bone both announce themselves as
captain. Peyton doesn't recognize either of them. She stares off into space as
the two girls argue before coming to an agreement to be co-captains.
Practice is intense, not for the cheerleaders, but for their company. Despite
the lack of confrontation between the Scott brothers at the beginning, its
obvious that Lucas and Nathan are against each other, even though they are on
the same team during the practice.
After practice, she waits for him outside the boy's locker room, wanting
nothing more to take away all his problems, and take away all the demons in his
eyes. But, when he exits, he glances at her, dismisses her with a wave of his
hand, before continuing on.
She grabs his arm, stopping him. She feels him tense under her touch, but he
doesn't attempt to escape her hold.
"Nate, talk to me, please."
"Peyton, leave me alone." His voice is cold, but her hold doesn't loosen. She
knows him, and knows that he doesn't mean it. He can't. It's just not possible.
Not after all they've been through.
"No." Her answer is short, stern.
He turns around so fast, she is nearly knocked off her feet, but he quickly
grabs her around the waist. She touches his face, and he relaxes into her
touch. She smiles softly.
"I can't be with you, Peyton. All I'm gonna do is hurt you. All I've ever done
is hurt you."
"Yeah, but, we've gotten through it, and…"
"It's gotten worse, blondie. I've gotten worse."
Nathan leaves her there, stunned, tears in her eyes. Suddenly, another Scott
appears in front of her, blue eyes squinted, face concerned. She glares at him,
knowing that if her boyfriend-she refuses to refer to Nathan as her ex- sees
her with his half-brother it'll crush him.
"What the hell do you want?" She asks, not giving him time to answer, as she
walks over to the bleachers to gather her belongings.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Nathan can be an ass sometimes."
She whips around, her curls hitting her in the eyes. "You don't know him, Lucas
Scott." She bites out his last name. "Since we're calling names…you're friend
Haley is a bitch."
Lucas' jaw clenches. "No, she isn't."
Peyton's eyebrows rise. "No? Then why does she blow off Brooke every time she
tries to talk to her? Huh?"
Lucas opens his mouth to retort, but closes it.
Peyton smirks. "That's what I thought." She walks away, leaving a stunned Lucas
behind.
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
Brooke's phone rings again, and she receives another annoyed look from Haley.
It's Peyton again, and even Julian and her are in the middle of a conversation,
she signals for him to be quiet, and mouths 'Peyton.' He nods in understanding.
"Hey, P. Sawyer," she answers.
There's silence, and Brooke is just about to repeat her friend's name when a
sob crosses the line.
"Peyton, are you okay?" The first sob is followed by another, then a third,
before they are coming one after the other. "Honey, what's wrong? Is it Nathan?
Did you guys breakup? Is it your dad? Is he okay? Pey, you have to tell me, I
can't guess. Just breathe."
The sobs just continue, and Brooke's worry turns to fear. "Peyton, where are
you?"
"Bridge…" The word is muffled and breathy as another sob makes it nearly
impossible decipher.
"Okay, I'll be there. Just…hang on, okay. Everything is gonna be okay."
As soon as the call ends, Brooke is standing from her seat. "Julian, can you
please take me to Peyton…she is really upset, and…"
He wraps an arm around her and she relaxes just a little. "Of course."
They are leaving just as Lucas is coming in. Lucas' eyes meet hers and
something in them make her unsettled.
They don't talk much on the way to secret spot that Brooke and Peyton had
dubbed as 'theirs' many years ago. In fact they didn't talk at all.
Not until Julian speaks up. "Haley wasn't who I wanted you to meet. I mean,
ugh, I didn't expect her to react like that. But, this other person would have
reacted a lot kinder, a lot more welcoming. She will, that is, if you still
want to meet her."
Brooke looks over at him, and finds herself smiling. "Yeah, I'd like that."
He doesn't look at her, but he smiles at her answer. He doesn't have any
problem finding the place, and is soon pulling up to the ledge under the
bridge. It's around seven, nearly dark, and the truck's headlights illuminate
the figure of a distraught Peyton Sawyer.
She is still in her tiny shorts, and tight tank top from cheer practice. Julian
watches as Brooke hurries out of the car and to her friend. Her small arms
somehow manage to wrap completely around Peyton. The blond begins to break
down, and out of respect he shuts off the lights.
"Nathan broke up with me," she cries."
Brooke tightens her hold on her close friend. "Sssh, P. It's all gonna be
okay." She hasn't ever seen her friend react this way to a break up before.
"No, you don't get it. Brooke, this time it's different. It's done, for good."
"He…he…he told me he loved me and then…he just…he was gone." Her voice is
broken, devastated.
"He does love you, Peyton. More than anything. Did he tell you why?"
"He said he couldn't hurt me anymore. That all he ever did was hurt me…and that
he had gotten worse."
"Peyton, I…" Brooke trails off, unsure of how to word what she needs to say.
"There was a fight today, between Nathan and Julian, the guy I've been all day.
He got pretty intense, and I tried to break it up, and when I did, Nathan
accidentally hit me, but it didn't leave any bruises. Or marks. Or anything. So
he must have tried to slow down, but it was just too late. So now…"
"He thinks he's gonna hurt me, physically. That he's gonna become Dan," Peyton
finishes, in almost a whisper.
"Yeah," Brooke confirms.
Dan Scott has never hit Nathan, at least not recently. Not since Nathan has
learned to fight back. But, the mayor of Tree Hill manages to keep control of
his son in other ways, by using Deb. Dan being afraid of Nathan doesn't mean
that Nathan is actually strong enough to overpower his father.
"I gotta talk to Nathan, tonight."
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
Nathan is drunk off his ass. He can't see straight. He can't see anything, not
even the small girl that is currently straddling him, busying herself with
unbuttoning the stupid navy blue dress shirt that Brooke had bought for him.
But, he can see Peyton, no matter how drunk he gets.
Every time he closes his eyes, she's there. Her green eyes and blond curls.
Sometimes, she's sweaty, laying tangled in his sheets in the afterglow of an
orgasm, she's mid-orgasm, she's sketching, sleeping, cheering, glaring at him,
but most of the time he sees the last look she gave him, that heartbroken look.
"Nathan!" The voice of the girl he is currently trying to fuck shouts his name,
and he forces himself to pay attention to her.
"What?" He growls, and it's not an aroused growl.
"I am doing all the work, you're just laying there. I feel like I'm raping
you."
"Yeah, well maybe you are."
She huffs, and climbs off of him, the heal of her foot digging into his flaccid
penis. He winces, but doesn't make any move other than that.
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
Lucas cocks his head to the side, as Haley scrubs at one of the tables angrily.
The open sign has long since been turned around, leaving just him and his best
friend, and his mom, who was busy tending to something in the back.
"I just, I don't know what Julian sees in…in that…that skank," she finally gets
out.
Lucas lets out a breath. He walks over to her and covers her hand with his own,
halting her frantic movements. "Hales, have you considered the fact that maybe
you're judgment is unfair?"
Her brown eyes narrow, but only for a short moment, and soon her shoulders are
slumping in defeat. Lucas turns her around to face him, and smiles softly.
Tucking a hair behind her ear, he says, "this isn't you, Hales. You're above
this."
Her eyes look up towards the ceiling thoughtfully, before focusing on him.
"Yeah," she says, resigned, "what really sucks is that she's been so nice to
me."
"Yeah well, Peyton isn't any kind of angel."
Haley let out a dramatic sigh of relief, before pumping her fist in the air.
"Yes! Finally, one of my boys come down to earth!"
He laughs and pulls Haley against his side. "Oh, Hales. What am I going to do
with you?"
"The real question is what are we gonna do with Julian?"
Lucas shrugs. "I don't know. It seems like Brooke and him might actually be
building a genuine friendship."
Haley pulls away him, her mouth gaping open. "Are you serious, Luke?"
"Hales, what did we talk about?"
She glares at him.
"Look, I heard why he got expelled. Nathan was saying some nasty stuff about
Brooke, and Julian stood up for her. I would have done the same thing."
"So now you're obsessed with her…" Haley's arm flap at her sides in
exasperation.
"No, I just don't like it when girls are disrespected."
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
After dropping Peyton and Brooke off at Peyton's, Julian decides that maybe it
is best he visit Haley. He looks at the truck's clock, and concludes that she's
probably still at the café.
Once he parks in front of the small family restaurant, he walks in, using his
key to unlock the door. Lucas and Haley are the only two people left in the
place. Not even Karen seems to there.
Haley looks up at him, and she looks hurt and accusing. Lucas excuses him and
says something about having to clean the milkshake machine. Julian takes the
abandoned seat across from Haley, and takes her hand. She tenses, but soon
after relaxes.
"Haley, you are one of my best friends, and that is never going to change."
She smiles, but there is something about that makes him feel uneasy and
concerned.
"Hales, talk to me."
"I just…everything is changing and it's only the first day of our junior year.
I guess, I always thought it would be the three of us."
He nods. "Me too. But, I'm happy that's it not anymore."
She tenses beneath his touch, and immediately her hand is gone from under his.
"Come on, Haley. Just get to know her. She's not what people say she is.
Bumblebee is a good person. She really wants you to like her."
"Bumblebee?" The word is full of hatred and jealousy.
Julian blushes. "It's…ugh…her nickname."
"Julian, she's….not a good person. She's mean…and judgmental," Haley insists.
He shakes his head. "It seems to me that you are the judgmental one. The mean
one. All she wants is for you to like her. You really hurt her feelings
tonight, Haley. This isn't you, not the Haley I know. When my best friend comes
back, give me call. Until then, just, take time to think."
Haley opens her mouth, but words fail her. He leaves, slamming the door of his
truck so hard, the entire vehicle shakes.
***** Loafers, Crocs, and Blood *****
Chapter Summary
     Brulian, beach, Neyton, alcohol, hospital, Lucas, Haley, blood,
     jealousy.
Part 2
 
It is insanely late, or more like early, depending on who you are, and how you
look at such things. But, that doesn’t stop Julian from running his calloused
fingertips over the ripped piece of paper that Brooke had left in his truck
sometime during the night with her number on it. Something about her loopy
manuscript makes the generic, plain blue ink exotic and vibrant. The large
letters run into each other, are attached, even though they are clearly not
cursive. He assumes that, like everything else about Brooke, this is unique to
her.
There’s a small note, meant just for him, written in much smaller letters than
her name and the number. The handwritings isn’t near as loopy, it’s neater, and
the thought that maybe she had spent extra time on it makes him feel giddy, and
no matter how amazing this girl is, his reaction to such a simple thing is
still embarrassing. He’s grateful that he is alone, especially when he notices
himself squirming around like a middle school girl.
He clears his throat and stills himself, sitting up straight in bed. The note,
just like the first twenty times he has read it, says…
Julian…Jabby J
Call me or there will be consequences.
Bumblebee
It’s short and sweet. More like tart. Ya know, that flavor that reigns you in
with it’s sweetness but you know that if you eat too much of it, you’ll tongue
will be suffering for it the next week, if not longer. Well, Brooke is tart.
Sweet, sour, and everything in-between. And, even though he knows there is no
possible way this can end well, he finds himself dialing her number. For the
simple reason of she is Brooke Davis, and he is Julian Baker, and he has been
obsessed with her for years. But, its more than that.
A hoarse “hello,” brings a smile to his face, and diminishes all negative
thoughts from his mind. “So, you found my note, huh, Jabby?” She asks, a
throaty laugh following right after.
He chuckles in return. “Yeah, I did.”
“Didn’t take you long to call,” she adds, her voice low and he can barely make
out the noise of what sounds like blankets shuffling.
“Did I wake you up?” There isn’t an answer for a few moments, and for some
reason he is almost certain that she used some sort of head motion to answer
his question. “Brooke, I can’t see you, darlin. You have to use words.”
She giggles, and there is definitely a nervous hint to it. “Well, um, yes, no.”
“Brooke…” he scolds, jokingly.
She groans. “Uhh. Fine, yes, but don’t hang up, I really do want to talk to
you, Jabby.”
He smiles, and its so wide that it actually hurts his facial muscles. He stays
silent, and she uses it as an opportunity.
“Come pick me up, Julian. We can totally do something fun!” Her voice has risen
a couple octaves and he has to pull the phone away from his ear.
“Do you not own a car, Brooke?” He asks, using her full name like she had his.
She huffs. “Yes, I do, Andy, but I don’t know where you live. Which is going to
change, very soon. Plus, your truck is way more awesome than my stupid VW bug
thing.”
His eyes narrow at the shortened version of his middle used as a first. “Well,
Penny, give me ten minutes…”
“Five…”
He looks down at his boxers, and then does a once over of his messy room,
trying to remember what clothes were clean and which ones weren’t. He grunts in
agreement.
“Okay.” He is just about to end the call, when her overly sweet voice stops
him.
“Don’t ever call me Penny again.”
“Okay. My bad, Penny…”
The last thing he hears is a high-pitched shriek of annoyance, before he hit’s
the end button on his blackberry. He easily finds her house again, and she is
already waiting outside, her porch light shining on her. She skips over to the
vehicle, and he is so caught up in watching her that he doesn’t have time to go
around and assist her in getting into the vehicle, but he pulls her in from his
place in the driver’s seat.
She is all dimples, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. Her face ceases to be
covered by any make-up, therefore her freckles are viewable to his studying
eyes. She appears subconscious under his intense gaze, and begins to fidget
with her hair.
“I know, me, Brooke Davis, Miss Queen Bee, Head cheerleader, actually owns a
pair of crocs. The ugliest shoes known to man, but hey, they are also the most
comfortable shoes known to man, and the best beach shoes ever made. Which
brings me to the reason for this whole thing, we are going to the beach, so you
get to see me in my bikini!”
He smiles at her babble, something he has come to realize she does when she’s
nervous, excited, passionate, just about in every mood. He shrugs, the topic of
her rant finally setting in.
“I have a pair of loafers.”
The statement is simple, and he begins to drive again, but when she reaches
over and takes one of his hands off the steering wheel, he realizes how much it
must of meant. He looks over at her, and finds her looking out the window. The
sound of a car horn has her head whipping around, her eyes widening, and her
grip tightening painfully on his. He puts pressure on the brake, and stops,
letting out the breath he had been holding when the car swerves around him.
She looks at him, incredulous. “You…Julian. You were just on the wrong side of
the street. We could have died!” Then she laughs, and he smiles.
He shrugs, which he seems to do a lot in her presence. “I just, I was looking
at you.”
She looks over him, her eyebrow kinked. “Why?” And he can tell she really
doesn’t know the reason.
He looks away from her quickly, remembering the recent incident. He starts to
shrug but stops before he can complete the action. “You’re beautiful.”
She is silent, completely and utterly so. Which is very strange for her. Her
eyes are fixated on the scenery passing by, her bottom lip between her teeth.
“It’s cute when you shrug. Don’t stop.”
His first response is to be embarrassed that she noticed, but then he is
flattered, because she did notice, and such an easily overlooked thing attracts
her. He squeezes their still joined hands, and he hears her sigh in
contentment.
They reach the beach, and he turns to pull into the deserted parking lot, but
she stops him very effectively when she releases his hand, bounces in the seat,
shakes her head, points to the left, and yells, “no, that way. I have my own
spot.”
He isn’t sure what could possibly be different about the area they are driving
to, than the one they just left. A beach is a beach. It’s sand and water. But,
she is smiling and practically bouncing in her seat. That’s all the reason he
needs. There is a difference, though. There isn’t a parking lot. Therefore,
they have to park a block away.
Without his consent, or his say, it seems as though it has been decided that he
will be carrying Brooke to their destination when she jumps on his back. She is
not a heavy girl, by no means, but when taken by surprise, and the heels of her
small feet dig into his lower abs, with the combination of her tight grip on
his neck, he can’t breath.
But, the problem is easily fixed, when he helps support her, each of his hands
grasping onto one of her thighs. Then, without a word to her, he begins to run,
and she lets a scream of surprise, soon followed by a laugh.
She yells out directions every minute, apparently, this spot is in a specific
place. But when she yells for him to stop, and he plops down, dropping her
effectively onto her butt, he immediately realizes its significance. There’s a
large rock located perfectly so you can jump into the water, or just watch as
the sun sets. As he studies it closer, he notices N.S. & B.D. forever engraved
into the stone. His first thought is how it must have taken a lot of time and
dedication to have done it, and then he realizes who the initials belong to.
It only makes him even more curious about her past with Nathan. If they, which
it appears they had been, a couple, then how did the ‘evil Scott brother’ end
up with Brooke’s best friend? He wants to ask her, but he has a feeling it’s
too soon. He wonders if there will ever be a time she will feel comfortable
around him enough to open up to him that much. Trust him that much.
He goes around the rock formation, but finds no sign of Peyton’s initials
paired with either Nathan’s or Brooke’s. Brooke calls his name, returning his
attention to her, not that it ever left her. His breath catches, and he wonders
if you need oxygen to live. He hopes not, because he doesn’t think he’s gonna
breathe again anytime soon.
Her hair is loose from its bun, flowing messily down her back. She has
discarded her simple t-shirt, leaving herself in nothing but a string bikini
top. Some would call him a loser, considering he just saw her in her
undergarments mere hours before. But, this time there isn’t any mud, or joking.
It’s just her, stripping in front of him. And her moon kissed skin.
Her shorts start to fall down her lean legs, and he lets out a small groan,
because he knows there is no way he is going to survive this. No possible way.
She runs into the water, not giving him that much time to study her revealed
skin. This leaves him relieved and disappointed.
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
Peyton, after spending a good three hours trying to get a hold of her
boyfriend, she becomes worried. She knows for a fact that Nathan isn’t
sleeping. At least not if their fall out had effected him as much as it did
her. She springs up in bed, images of what he is probably doing in her mind.
She knows how he copes. Oh God!
Just like that she is in her comet and racing to his house. Dan isn’t home, but
Deb is. She’s passed out on the couch, obviously just having taken a pretty bad
beating from her husband. Peyton winces, but forces herself to push the abused
woman to the back of her mind.
Nathan, her lover, her boyfriend, her disaster, he is what she is focused on.
She stands outside his room for a few moments, unsure of what to do. She
doesn’t hear his snoring, or any moaning. Nathan has cheated on her in the
past, but she has done the same to him. They are like a demented version of
Romeo and Juliet, because it was evidential for them to both die in the end,
for each other.
The worst kind of deaths. The type where you give yourself over to something or
someone so much that at the end of it you don’t know who you are anymore. You
look around, and in the middle of the catastrophe that had stolen the entirety
of your soul had also taken everybody else who had ever meant anything to you.
But, Nathan is worth it, and so much more.
Therefore, when she sees him laying lifelessly in his king-sized bed, vomit
staining his shirt, she panics. She rushes over to him, her hands going to his
face, wiping away some of the still wet vomit. She doesn’t shake him, instead
she whispers his name, desperately, brokenly.
She searches for her cell-phone, only to discover that she left it at home. She
is near hysteria, as she searches his large room for his cell. She lets out a
scream, grabbing at her un-brushed, wild curls. The same thought is repeating
in her head, like a mantra ‘you failed him, Peyton. Just like you failed your
mom.‘ Even though she really doesn’t want to leave him, she knows she has to
get him help. So, she goes to the living room and uses the land line to call an
ambulance.
She shakes her head, and if Nathan was conscious, he would call her crazy for
her frantic movements. He would pull her into his arms, whisper something dirty
in her ear, she would push him away pretending to be mad, he would respond with
that stupid ass cocky Scott smirk, and then it would all end in laughs and
kisses.
The sounds of sirens cut through the silence, and she runs outside. For once
she doesn’t care if strangers see her crying. There are so many paramedics. So
many disapproving looks at another alcohol poisoned teenager. Peyton wants to
punch them all. Deb is seen, and another ambulance is sent for her.
They start bombarding her with questions about the older woman.
“Fuck off! I don’t fucking know! Let me see my boyfriend!”
The middle-aged man who is questioning her smiles softly at her. “I’m sorry
mam, but you can’t come with us.”
She wants to respond with anger, she hates being this pathetic, lovesick girl.
But, she deflates. “Have you ever been in love?”
His eyes change from their cold, professional stare to one of compassion. He
nods, and simply stands aside. It’s a wordless approval for her to climb into
the back of the vehicle, which she doesn’t hesitate to do.
She holds tightly to Nathan’s hand. It’s cold and lifeless in hers. The EMT
looks at her, and their eyes connect for a short moment, before the female
begins busying herself with starting an IV.
NPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNP
“Jabby! Come in, I’m lonely,” Brooke says, for the fifth time, only worded
differently.
He smiles, and shakes his head. “Alright, but if I get bit by anything, you’re
paying for the hospital bill.”
Brooke’s phone rings, saving him from having to strip down to his boxers. She
wades through the water, and fetches her phone from her pile of clothes.
“Hey, P. Sawyer, you totally just killed my mojo. I was just about to have a
hot, wet guy…” Brooke’s smiling face becomes ashen, and her knees buckle.
Julian rushes to catch her. Her nails dig into his lower arms, and he winces
from the pressure.
There isn’t any goodbyes exchanges, just Brooke hurriedly gathering her clothes
with shaking hands.
“I…Natey is in the hospital.” She freezes at her own words.
There’s the nickname again.
“He…um drank too much. He might not make it.”
Suddenly his hospital joke isn’t so funny anymore.
NPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNP
Peyton is pacing the private waiting room-thanks to Scott name-when Brooke
comes running in, and right into her arms. The brunette is soaked, and she
can’t tell what droplets are coming from her wet hair and which are tears. They
separate just enough to look at each other, and the shorter girl wipes away the
blonde’s tears, and its way too obvious that there was a Nathan and Brooke way
before she had entered the picture. Before she even knew either of them
existed.
A guy, who she assumes is Julian, appears in the doorway not long after Brooke.
His eyes don’t leave her best friend once. And, she can tell that Brooke wants
to go to his side, so she offers her friend a smile, and pushes the brunette
towards him.
Peyton takes a seat, and of course Brooke sits beside her, Julian sitting on
the other side of her. Brooke, as always is her strength, and now it seems as
though her dear friend finally has someone to lean on.
After, what seems like hours, but in reality as only been forty minutes, a
doctor comes into the little room. He looks rugged and tired.
“Nathan is…he’s holding on. But, he needs a blood transfusion..”
“Then fucking give him one!” Peyton’s outburst interrupts him before he can
finish.
The grey haired man remains patient, clears his throat, and continues, “but, he
has type B- blood, which is very rare. Unfortunately, we don’t have that in
stock here. When alcohol is overly consumed… ”
Peyton sneers. “I know how alcohol poisoning works. Stock? Stock! This isn’t a
damn store! This is a hospital…ya know where you save lives. So, go in there
and save his life!”
“I’m sorry Mrs. Scott, but we don’t have the supplies we need, and there’s no
time to transfer him to another hospital.”
“So, basically, you’re saying he’s gonna die,” Brooke interjects. Her voice is
sad, but eerily even, accepting of the situation.
Peyton jumps from her seat, and pushes the doctor, unexpectedly. The older man
stumbles, but accepts her tiny, barely painful punches. Warm arms encompass
her, and she fights the hold they have on her.
“SShh, Peyton. I know it sucks, and it’s not going to be okay. At least not
anytime soon. But, Brooke is here, and now I am here. Okay. Just breathe?” And
she knows the voice belongs to Julian.
She relaxes and turns in his arms. “Lucas…” The name is breathless. “Lucas is
Nathan’s brother. They might have the same blood type.”
Peyton looks at Julian, then they both turn to Brooke. Everything is about to
get very complicated.
NPNPNPNPJBJBJBJBJNPNPNPJJBJB
It’s early, the sun barely revealing itself with shades of orange and red. This
is Lucas’ favorite time to run. It’s quiet and peaceful. Free of any high
school drama. Any half-brothers or asshole fathers. His Ipod is set on the
highest volume, and Counting Crows is blaring in his ears. However, no matter
how loud the music is, he can still feel the insistent vibration of his cell
phone resting in the pocket of his gym shorts.
This is the third time the person has called, so it must be important. Unless,
of course it’s Haley to talk about Julian, or Julian to talk about Brooke. But,
just incase he decides to answer this time. Julian’s name flashes on the
screen, and he groans.
“Yes, Baker,” he answers, rudely.
The response he gets is the last he ever imagined.
“Nathan is in the hospital, and he needs a transfusion. I know he’s not your
favorite person, but he’ll die without it. And…”
“Julian…chill. I’ll come as soon as I can. But, you know that it’s a shot in a
dark that I’m his blood type, right?”
He hears a sharp intake of breath. “I know, but you have to be. Because, it
would hurt Brooke too much to lose him.”
There isn’t any jealousy in his tone, just desperation, and Lucas curses
himself for having jogged farther than he normally did.
“Alright, I’ll be there, bud. It’s you, me, and Hales against the world,
remember? And if that means death then so be it.”
JLJLJJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJL
Brooke looks up at the sound of numerous voices. Not only Lucas has showed up.
Haley and youngish adults are there. She doesn’t ask where Lucas is, because
she wants to assume he is in the back having his blood tested.
The two adults take a seat, but for reason Haley remains standing and fidgets.
Brooke looks around, noticing that there aren’t any seats left. Not really
thinking much of it, the former cheerleader stands, and tugs Julian up with
her. She pushes him into her vacated seat, next to Peyton, and plops down in
his lap.
She smiles, as best as she can considering the situation. “There ya go, Haley.”
The other girl glares in response, and the urge to cry intensifies, which
seemed impossible five minutes ago. Julian’s hands grasp her hips, and his nose
snuggles into her hair. She relaxes against him, and lets out a sigh. She feels
the eyes of the two adults on them, who are sitting parallel to them.
“You must be Brooke,” The woman with brown hair speaks.
Brooke eyes open, and she sits up in her new friend’s lap. “Umm, yeah.”
The young/old woman smiles. “I’m Karen. You are prettier than Julian described
you.” She lets out a short laugh. “He’s talked about you constantly for years.”
Brooke feels Julian tense beneath her, and rubs one of the arms wrapped around
her to sooth him.
“Really?” She asks, blushing. She feels ashamed the moment a legitimate, wide
smile stretches across her face.
“Yeah, I just wish we could have met under better circumstances.”
Karen turns to Peyton, looking like she wants to say something, but doesn’t. A
doctor enters the room, a different one from before. Brooke almost laughs at
the thought that maybe the previous was afraid of P. Sawyer.
“Lucas is a match.”
Before he can continue, Peyton is out of her seat, and hugging the doctor,
tears streaming down her face. Brooke is surprised by her friend’s outburst of
emotion. It isn’t like the blonde to be so open, especially when it comes to
Nathan.
The doctor is a female this time and awkwardly returns the hug.
“The transfusion is in progress now. You guys can go see both boys in pairs in
a few hours. Lucas will have to stay overnight.”
“Is he okay?” Haley asked, sending a dirty look in Peyton’s direction, as if it
was her fault if he wasn’t.
“Yes, it’s just a precaution. Mostly done because of protocol.”
Brooke and Peyton’s eyes meet, and they share a private moment. One that
reassures the blonde that despite this incident Brooke still trusts Peyton to
take of her boy.
When it comes time to visit the Scott brothers, they all agree Peyton and Karen
should be the first ones, since the boys share a room.
Brooke looks down at Julian after they are informed of the news that the
brothers are roommates. “How do you think they’ll cope with that?”
Julian shrugs, and she smiles at his habit. “It’ll be a disaster, definitely.
But, at least they can’t harm each other, physically, too bad, considering
Nathan is bed bound. And Lucas would never take advantage of that.”
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
Peyton rushes over to Nathan’s bedside, pushing sweat soaked hair off of his
damp forehead. He looks up at her with blue eyes. He looks so sad, so broken.
“God, Nathan. Don’t ever do that again. If you weren’t already in here, I would
put you in here.” Her loving tone contradicts the threat.
He smiles, and lifts his heavy hand towards her face. Noticing his struggle,
she takes it in hers and presses a kiss to it.
“Nathan Royal Scott, I love you, so much.”
“Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer, you drive me to insanity, but I love you too.” His
voice is hoarse. “But, right now I think I might love water more.”
“Ya know, after that I might just let you die of thirst.”
They return to the natural routine of playful banter, but she knows they will
never be the same. Because, he had done this, because of her. Because of his
feelings for her. They were so strong he had almost killed himself. And that
scares the shit out of her.
She grabs the cup of water from the table beside his bed, and, of course, he
refuses her help, and struggles to drink it himself. Despite it obviously being
difficult, he succeeds in getting a decent amount, and hands it back to her.
NPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNP
Despite sharing a room, Karen and Lucas can’t make out the conversation
happening on the other side of the curtain. And they don’t try, because it is
more than likely intimate. Or at least Karen doesn’t try.
“You still have a thing for her, huh?”
Lucas looks up at her, his blue eyes wide and innocent. He sighs. “Yeah, I
guess. She deserves better.”
Karen places her hand over her son’s and gives it a loving squeeze. “She seems
to love him. Very deeply.”
Blue eyes narrow. Dan’s eyes. Except not Dan’s. Lucas’.
“Maybe so, but he doesn’t love her.”
Karen sighs. “How do you know, Lucas?”
He pulls his hand from under hers, and she frowns, hurt by his action. “Are you
really taking his side?”
“No, no, I’m not. You’re my son, I love you, and I will always be on your side.
But, sometimes you just have to face the truth.” She isn’t sure if she is still
talking about Peyton, Nathan, and her son, or Dan, Deb, and her.
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
When Karen and Peyton return to the waiting room, Julian looks over to Haley,
silently asking if she will be okay if he goes with Brooke. She nods, but he
doesn’t miss the look exchanged between Keith and Haley. He doesn’t quite know
the meaning behind it, but its obvious the older man knows something he
doesn’t. Something pertaining to Haley, something that upsets her, and he is
worried.
Just as Brooke and him are about to the pass the nurses’ desk, he stops,
pulling on their joined hands to get her to do the same. She looks up at him
with those eyes, and he almost doesn’t say what he is about to.
“I, uh, I should go back to Haley. She seemed upset about something, and I’m
not sure what it is, and that…”
“Bothers you. I understand. I have best friends too, ya know. My Nathan is your
Haley. Peyton is my Lucas.”
He nods. “Actually, I think it’s the other way around.”
“So, you have a complicated past with Lucas?” He can tell she hadn’t meant to
voice it. She has basically just admitted to having some sort problematic past
with Nathan, but right now isn’t an appropriate time to dig further.
“Yeah.” He kisses her forehead, then turns and leaves her.
He makes it as far to the entrance of the waiting room when it occurs to him
that Nathan had literally almost died. He could have died tonight. And here he
is leaving Brooke to go check on Haley for what is probably some insignificant
issue. Lucas, sure he is being kept in the hospital for twenty-fours, but he is
going to be okay. He didn’t have a near death experience. Didn’t go on a
drinking binge because he was hurting beyond comprehension.
Swiftly, he turns on his heel, and all but runs towards the Scott room, only to
find that Brooke is still where he left her. Her hands are covering her face,
and her shoulders are shaking. He doesn’t waste a second in pulling her into
his arms. She doesn’t protest, she just collapses against him, mumbling about
how she eventually, always loses everybody.
Slowly, he guides her towards where she wants, needs to be, and turns into the
room when they reach it. Lucas, who is in bed number one, looks at them
curiously, and Julian just sends him a ‘back off’ look.
“Natey is awake,” Julian whispers in ear, and without giving Julian a second
look, she rushes over to the hospital bed and into her friend’s arms.
“Natey.” The name is breathless and devastated.
“Brookie.” The reply is identical.
The basketball players blue eyes land on Julian, and they are broken,
vulnerable.
“Thanks, for beating the shit out of me yesterday. I deserved it.”
Julian can tell Nathan is prepared for a verbal assault, but he’s not going to
receive one, not right now, not from Julian.
“It’s okay. Everyone makes mistakes. It’s obvious you love Brooke.”
Brooke looks up from where she buried her nose in her friend’s neck. “Julian,
pull back the curtain.”
Julian wants to protest, but doesn’t. Because, damn those eyes, he just can’t
seem to say no to them. So, he does, and for the first time in probably years,
the Scott brothers are within a few feet of each other and not in some sort
stand off.
Brooke climbs off of Nathan and goes over to Lucas. She grabs his hand, and for
some reason, Julian is jealous.
“Thanks for what you did. I can’t even begin to describe how much it means…”
“Go out with me.” It’s abrupt, no questioning tone at all, and cuts her off
mid-sentence.
Nathan pipes in, literally a second later. “I understand you saved my life, but
if you’re expecting sex from Brooke…”
Lucas shakes his head. “No, I just want to take her out, on an honest date.”
Nathan looks over at Julian, and he seems to know what he is thinking, because
his look is sympathetic.
“I…um…” Brooke turns towards him, and Julian urges himself to say something,
anything, but he doesn’t, of course.
“I guess. Why not?” She says, releasing his hand, and heading over to Julian’s
side where she snuggles.
Julian feels privileged and satisfied when Lucas sends a glare his way.
“So, Lucas, dude, since you finally realized that Peyton doesn’t want you, you
decide to go after your best friend’s girl?” Nathan’s questions causes a
tension to settle over the room.
“Brooke isn’t my girl.” Julian’s response causes Brooke to move away from him,
not a lot, just enough for him to notice.
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
Around noon, Julian drops Brooke off at her house, and she leaves the truck
with a simple wave and nod of the head. But, at the last minute, she places a
soft, short kiss on his cheek.
“Jabby, I am your girl,” she informs him. “Whether you like it or not, you’re
stuck with me now.”
He grabs her arm when she’s half-way out of the vehicle. “Then Penny, I’m your
guy. No matter what.”
She looks down. “Even if I go on this date with Lucas.”
He nods. “Yeah, even if.”
She smiles and looks up. “Good, because he is really hot.”
And the mood is ruined. At least for him.
“Get some sleep, Andy. You’re gonna need it.”
She finishes climbing out of the truck, and waves as he pulls out of her
driveway.
***** Daydreams and I Love Yous *****
After a long, restless night spent in the hospital, Lucas is finally being
released. His mom and uncle are there, as well as his two childhood best
friends, though there is a noticeable tension in the room. It can be felt in
every glare he receives from Julian, every look Haley sends Julian. And it is
only intensified by the low whispers coming from the other side of the curtain,
accompanied by the quiet cries of either or both Peyton and Brooke.
The veins bulging in Julian’s neck and clenched fists are apparent signs of his
desire to go sooth Brooke, and the tight grip Haley’s teeth have on her bottom
lip makes her jealousy known. However, they are still here, all in the same
room, awaiting his discharge, so they can go hang out at the Rivercourt
afterwards. Even though Julian is horrible at basketball, and Haley detests the
sport. It is their spot, and Mouth and Skills are there waiting for them, along
with a few others who the three of them trust enough to call friends, but not
family.
However, not even the Rivercourt is going to be able to repair the damage the
dimple-smiled, raven-haired girl has brought upon their tight knit group. If
asked, Lucas will be the first to admit that he has watched Peyton religiously
for years, way before the blonde-haired woman had any connection to Brooke.
Nevertheless, Lucas has always had a fascination with things he cannot have. In
addition, right now his best friend’s crush has his interest piqued with the
possibility that Julian’s feelings might be requited.
However, Nathan’s little reminder that Peyton has absolutely no interest in him
just fed his obsession with her. All three girls in his life, at least the ones
who are currently playing major roles, all seem to belong to someone else. Even
though it has only been three days, Julian and Brooke seem to have a wordless
claim on each other. Nathan and Peyton, on the hand, are very public about
their ownership. Then there is Nathan and Brooke. They have this vibe…one that
Lucas cannot identify, and as a writer that frustrates him, because he cannot
put in it into words.
Haley, well, she belongs to Julian, even if he is clueless to the fact. And, of
course, Lucas wants his best friend to be happy, so that is another reason why
Brooke has to be his, and not Julian’s. Julian belongs to Haley. The pair of
cheerleader best friends belong to him. Nathan needs to go on another drinking
binge, and not be found.
He is dressed now, has been for quite awhile, but everyone is waiting to say
goodbye to a certain someone on the other side of the curtain, so when it is
pulled aside, there are a variety of emotional reactions. But, there is no
denying that Brooke’s eyes land on Julian first, and the love sick grin on both
of their faces, as they embrace.
She is swept into his arms, her feet lifted off the ground, her eyes closing
and her nostrils flaring as she takes in his scent. Lucas’ muscles tighten at
the reaction his friend entices from the brunette. Then, she is heading over to
him, her eyes bloodshot from all the tears she must have cried throughout the
night. Funny, those eyes had been clear and bright when she looked at Julian
measly minutes before.
He does not focus on that, instead he takes in the swing of her hips, and the
slow movement of her feet, which are covered with a pair of rainbow crocs.
“Lucas.” She says his name, and he snaps his eyes up to hers, and she smiles,
but her dimples cannot be seen.
“I…um…I don’t think…that date is such a good idea. Ya know everything was just
in chaos, and I had almost lost my best friend, and you saved his life, even
though you hated him and have practically been humping his girlfriend’s aka my
other best friend’s legs for years. And…I, just…I thought…Lucas has to be an
amazing guy…but going out with you out of gratitude wouldn’t be fair to you or
me. So I’m sorry, but I’m changing my answer to No.”
He nods, though disappointed; he accepts her answer, for now. He is rewarded
with a dimpled smile a short kiss on the kiss on the cheek. He closes his eyes
at the feel of her lips, but his eyes snap open when he can no longer feel her
presence beside him. She is, once again, beside his best friend, wound up in
his arms, except this time her lips are pressed to his cheek, dangerously close
to his lips.
Lucas clears his throat, bringing the couple back to reality. “We should get
going, the Rivercourt has been neglected lately,” he jokes.
Julian smiles down at Brooke. “Yeah, but for good reason.”
Haley rolls her eyes, and tugs on the lovesick boy’s arm. “Come on, Jules.”
Brooke waves, sending one last wink at her ‘friend’. Julian says goodbye to
Nathan and Peyton. Lucas makes sure to do the same to Peyton, but ignores
Nathan.
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
Once alone, the three best friends all lounge around the now more relaxed
atmosphere of the hospital room. Nathan’s bed is in an inclined position, and
Peyton is sitting beside him, barely touching, but there is definite cuddle
action going on.
Brooke is perched on the edge of the bed, a straw in-between her lips as she
drinks the Mt. Dew Julian had bought her. Something outside has her interest
until her blonde best friend kicks not so gently in the thigh. The brunette
glares at her friend, but the dirty look quickly diminishes into a smile.
“So, you and Julian…” Peyton leaves it open ended.
“Me and Julian…” Brooke repeats.
Peyton raises her eyebrows. “Brooke…”
Letting out an exaggerated sigh, Brooke rolls her eyes. “Alright, so I kinda
might like him just a bitty bit.”
“Just a little? Brooke, you do realize you just cancelled a date with Lucas
Scott, right. The newest Ravens basketball player…the guy that all the girls
are after now…”
“Actually no I don’t know…but yeah I did cancel it…”
“And you know why you don’t know?”
Brooke sits there, waiting for Peyton to continue. However, it becomes apparent
that she wants an answer to her question.
“Enlighten me.”
“Because you are clueless to any other guy but Julian, have been for the past
three days.”
Brooke rolls her eyes, looks to Nathan for help, and receives nothing but a
shrug.
“I…I’ve been busy,” she defends herself, without success.
“What exactly do you mean by ‘the guy that all the girls are after’?” Nathan
pipes in, his voice suspicious.
“All the girls except for the hottest ones in Tree Hill, of course,” Brooke
sings songs, referring to her and Peyton.
Nathan and Peyton share a look, one that Brooke has seen many times before.
They are about to get it on, no matter if there’s company or who that company
may or may not be. Brooke smiles when her blonde friend smirks right before
Nathan captures her lips, effectively cutting off any protests she might have
had.
Brooke begins to leave, as inconspicuously as possible. However, she has never
been that good at going unnoticed. Therefore, the couple separate, and Peyton
insists she stay, and though Nathan looks frustrated, he agrees.
Brooke shakes her head, with a smile. “No, you two love birds, just get back to
your little ‘thing’. You guys deserve some time alone.”
The bouncy brunette is out the door before another word can be spoken, and the
‘IT’ couple share a laugh. Then Peyton punches Nathan in the shoulder, hard.
Really hard, and he winces, rubbing the spot she hit.
“What the fuck, Sawyer!” He curses. “You’re fucking crazy!”
“I’m crazy? You’re the one who basically committed suicide!”
“Um, Blondie, in order to commit suicide, I’m pretty sure you have to be
successful.”
Her beautiful green eyes are narrow and sparkling with life, love, anger, and
so many other emotions. All caused by him. He cups her cheek, and her face
softens, for a moment, but she is quickly slapping him away.
“Nathan, you are not going to seduce me! Sex is not going to fix this!”
He smirks. “All it takes is me touching your face, and you’re horny?”
“Nathan…”
“Because that’s just fine…one touch from you is all it takes to make me…”
“Nathan Royal Scott, finish that sentence and you will never get hard again.”
“You finished it for me, Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer,” he says, with a laugh. “Ya
know…’hard’…okay, not funny to you.” He sighs.
Her shoulders tense, then thrust forward, a loud sob leaving her. “You could
have died, because of me.”
His arms wrap around her, to, ironically, protect her from himself. Because
that’s all he’s wanted to do since the first time he kissed her on the top of
the stairs, in his father’s beach house, during the first party of the summer
before their Sophomore year. It was supposed to be a onetime thing, a normal
one nighter, but as soon as their lips separated, he refused her invitation to
continue somewhere more private.
Because as soon as those green eyes, darkened with lust, looked into his, he
knew he was a goner, and that he wanted something more with her. And that if he
were to fuck her, he would also be fucking himself, his heart. Then, stupid
Brooke, had to go and befriend her, and the stupid blond cheerleader was always
there, all the fucking time.
But, she did not throw herself at him like all the other girls, did not even so
much as glance his way when in the same room as him. It went like that for
about a month. Then one night, during another party, in the exact spot, he
kissed her again. She was pissed, extremely. Her eyes, they gave her away
though, giving away her desire for him. So, he made this ridiculous speech.
“I want you. So bad. Have since that night…however long ago. Shockingly, I
don’t just want to fuck you, I want to be with you. I’ll hurt you more than
I’ll make you smile. There are plenty of other girls in here with bigger boobs,
better asses, thicker thighs, but god; you won’t leave my fucking head. You’re
a…bitch. And I hate you. And I will tell you that everyday; don’t expect me to
ever tell you….the opposite. I’m not capable of that feeling.”
Her eyes narrow, dangerously, and he feels himself stiffen. He wants nothing
more than to pull her to him and kiss her, he cannot remember ever wanting
anything more. Her long, artistic fingers trail over his cheek, outlining the
bone. He has seen her draw, and her dreams are easily depicted in her art. They
are just another reminder of what he cannot give her. However, that does not
stop him from grabbing her wrist, and pulling her flush against him.
Their lips meet with a fervor that only the other can match. However, he forces
that thought out of his mind, because she cannot possibly be the only one. They
stumble backwards, both of them nowhere near sober. Somehow, they stumble into
an empty bedroom, and he nearly falls, but manages to stop himself, not wanting
to crush her with his dead weight. This thought suddenly turns into one of him
worrying about her walking backwards, and that terrifies the shit out of him,
so to punish himself for it and her for bringing it forth, he turns them around
and crashes her back against the door, closing it.
Her tiny moan of pain only proves to make his pants tighter, though that little
voice in the back of mind gets louder. Her long, lean legs wrap around his
waist, her black converses digging into his back. It is a great contrast to the
normal feeling of heels, but it is a welcome change. However, he is not sure he
likes. One he wants to keep. Needs to keep.
She begins to rotate her hips, and he bites back a groan, hands gripping her
hips to assist her in the movements of her pelvis. He wants so badly to keep
his own hips still, to not let her know how much she really effects him. But,
when he cups one of her still clothed breasts, squeezing gently, then harder
when being gentle fails to get a response, and she arches into him, her hips
thrusting roughly into his, he grunts.
Now, both hands are gripping her pelvis, and he is practically fucking her with
clothes on. This only lasts a few moments, but it leaves her speechless, and he
wonders if she is going to be able to keep up with greedy passion she brings
out in him. Then, her fingers are tangling in his dark hair and their tongues
are dancing. He fumbles with the bottom of black, nirvana t-shirt, and finds
that is impossible to remove when they are so close. Separating is not an
acceptable option, so with their lips still attached; he rips it, right down
the middle.
“I happened to like that shirt,” she croaks, and all he can focus on is that
her lips are there, they exist, but they are not touching his. They are not
doing their job.
“Fuck it.” She seems to agree, eagerly responding to the newly started kiss,
reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. Then his hands are everywhere,
exploring, never staying in one place too long.
He captures a nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the puckered bud,
before biting down softly, then harder, drawing blood into his mouth. She
squirms against him, his name leaving her in a breathy moan. Her small hands
are struggling with his shirt. He ignores her silent pleas for assistant in the
removal of his clothes and continues his assault on her body. He makes a trail
of kisses along her neck and shoulders.
He locates her pulse point, the proof that this sinful creature with him is
real. He bites down on the sensitive area, and sinks his teeth in further when
she pushes his lower body away.
His mouth leaves her body and for a moment, they just stare at each other. Her
small chest is heaving, and her hands are shaking when she reaches between them
to undo his jeans. He removes his hands from her butt, allowing her to feet to
fall, and places them on the door, one hand is now on either side of her head.
His pants and briefs pool around his feet and he steps out of them. They stand
there, daring the other to stop what is about to happen. At the same time, they
reach for the button on her jean shorts, eyes not once breaking their gaze.
Using the grasp they both have on the hem of her shorts, he pulls her to him.
“Last chance.”
She shakes her head. “No. Everything you said, earlier. I’m worse. Trust me.”
“Doubt it.”
Before the conversation can continue, she has him in her hand, stroking him
deliciously so. In that moment, he knows he is addicted to her, and that no one
has ever and will ever be able to touch him as she can. Her shorts are on the
carpet followed by her panties, her doing.
As if their minds are linked, they grab each other in unison, coming back
together in frenzy. They fall down onto the bed, him on top of her.
“I hate your hair,” he insults.
“You have Dan’s eyes,” she bites back, and he tenses, driving himself into with
such speed, he swears he must be tearing her in half. However, never, in a
million tears, did he ever think he would literally tear her. However, he does,
he did. He took it. Like this. In a horrible, disgusting way.
Goddamnit! He had told her that he would only hurt her. He knew, he should have
stopped it. She is laying there, under him, eyes clamped shut, tears clinging
to her eyelashes.
He does something completely uncharacteristic; he pulls out of her, and rolls
them over. Pulling the blanket up over them, he tugs her against his side.
“Nirvana isn’t that bad…” It is a lame attempt to fix what he just broke, but
it makes her laugh. He clears his throat. “Look, uh, Brooke is having this
party, and, well. Fuck! Do you wanna go with me, as my date?”
She tenses in his arms. “You don’t have to act different with me, just because
this was…”
“Your first time?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m acting differently with you, because I’ve never been in this situation. I
have popped a few cherries, but never someone’s who I actually liked.”
She looks at him, and nods her acceptance. That was it. Nathan Scott officially
has a girlfriend. He just is not sure his girlfriend knows that yet.
“Peyton, I survived, because of you,” he assures her. “You’re the only reason
I’m still alive. And I’m not just talking about the other night.”
She knows there is a lot more that he wants to say, but those simple words are
all she needs to understand everything. In addition, if that is all he can give
her right now, that is fine.
“I love you, Nathan Scott.”
“I love you, too Peyton Sawyer.”
NPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNP
Julian watches, or more like daydreams, from the picnic table, as Lucas
attempts to teach Haley how to shoot a basketball. The laugh of his daydream
somehow has made it into his reality, and so has the main character.
She is running towards him, freshly showered, dressed in extremely short jean
shorts, and a tight red tank top, that reveals her mid-drift. She runs and
jumps onto the table beside him, nearly pushing him and Mouth off it, as the
momentum of her jump/sitting had causing her to slide across the piece of small
wooden furniture.
Much to his dislike, she ignores him, though she has to lean over him to order
to shake his friend’s hand.
“Hi, I’m Brooke Davis, Jabby’s unofficial girl thingy,” she says with a cheeky
smile.
His friend is even more inexperienced when it comes to girls, which is
possible. But, the lanky boy does have a certain charm to him, one that Brooke
seems to notice.
“I’m Mouth.”
Brooke, being Brooke, climbs onto Julian’s lap, without asking, not that he
really cares, to be closer to her new friend. Because to Brooke, everyone is
her friend.
“Is Mouth your real name? No offense or anything, but that’s a really weird
name, but my middle name is Penelope,” her voice lowers as she says the last
word, “but don’t tell anyone. I trust you though. You seem sweet.”
“My real name is Marvin…I just have a big mouth,” he explains.
She laughs, and touches his arm. “Oh yeah, me too! I talk a lot, so I apologize
in advance for anything I might say to offend you.” She shrugs.
And it looks so innocent that Julian almost believes it. He chuckles, earning
himself a smack from his lap’s occupant. Her attention averts over to the
basketball duo.
“So Broody Basketball Robot is teaching Tutor Girl to play?”
“Yeah,” Julian answers, with ease.
But, Mouth looks confused. “Broody what? And Tutor Girl?”
“Lucas is teaching Haley to play basketball,” Julian translates Brooke for him.
“Ya know, Natey would love it here, but don’t worry I know this is Lucas’ spot
and I respect that.”
Julian just prays she does not look at him, that way, or in anyway, because he
knows he will say yes, even if she does not ask, and respects Lucas’ space.
Because there had been a tiny bit of wistfulness in her voice. That is
negative, Brooke and negative are bad. Julian hates bad when it comes to his
Bumblebee.
Brooke’s phone goes off, and she accepts the text message. She makes it a point
to hide the screen from Mouth, but does not seem to care if Julian reads it, so
he does. Of course. Who wouldn’t?
The first thing he notices is the undeniable masculine name. Clay.
From: Clay
Omg. Im sry I shud hv ben there. I bot tickets be there in morning don’t wait
up.
Sent: 6:47 Aug 23
Received: 6:47 Aug 23
He wants to ask what the message is about, but does not. She tells him anyways.
“That was Clay, my sorta, not really brother. I told him what happened with
Nathan, and he is coming down for a week or so to check in on him. And I guess
he is bringing his girlfriend, though he insists they are just friends…but he
lies about shit like that.”
She squirms, bouncing in his lap and he winces at the impact. He grabs hold of
her hips, stilling her.
“Brooke, you are inflicting pain on a very sensitive part of my body.”
She blushes, hiding it behind a curtain of hair right away. “Sorry. Didn’t mean
to,” she mumbles.
Sometimes he wonders what her sexual history really is. It certainly cannot be
like everyone says it is. She blushes excessively much for it to be. She would
probably be shocked at what kind of thoughts her tiny outfits cause.
Finally, she replies to the text.
To: Clay
NP. Evrythng is under cntrl 4 the most part u no same old same ole shit
happenin itll b gud 2 cya u tho. Nite clay. Luv u.
Sent: 7:00 Aug 23
“Julian, uh, can I spend the night at your house again tonight?”
He nods, because he has no other choice. She is impossible to say no to.
“I see you don’t have your truck. So you finally get to ride in my stupid ass
car,” she whines, “just like you’ve begging to do.”
“I haven’t been…”
“Jabby, you’ve been begging.”
“Okay, maybe a bit.”
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
It is not until Haley hears the obnoxious laughter that she realizes Julian is
leaving with Brooke. She feels that familiar feeling of jealousy, but one look
over at Mouth, it is evident that Brooke has been there for quite a while, and
she had not noticed. Had she really been that caught up in the feel of Lucas’
hands on her to not notice her surroundings?
***** Tattoos and Speedsters *****
Chapter Summary
     Brulian: alcohol cuteness, Haley: jealous, Neyton: hospital
Julian very much regrets ever wanting to ride in Brooke’s car. Even though bugs
aren't known for being a speedsters, he should have known she was a risk taker
and would make it one. When he says this, she scoffs.
“Jabby, who says speedster, really?” But her voice is playful, as she removes a
hand from the wheel and pokes him in the side. And for the first time he wishes
her touch away, because he would really like her tiny hand to be on the wheel
instead.
Then, she does a u-turn, the abused tires protesting as gravel spins under the
pressure on the county road. He squeals, and knows he sounds like a scared
little girl, frankly, he doesn’t care. Because their lives are much more
important. But, she doesn’t seem the least bit concerned, a dimple smiled
firmly planted on her face.
“I know exactly where we should go,” she says, an awe sound to her voice, as if
something just dawned on her.
“I thought we were going to my house,” he says, his voice almost pleading.
Alright, it WAS pleading. He just knows this place, whatever it is, is going to
be trouble.
She rolls her eyes, he knows she does. “Come on, loosen up Jabby. I promise I’m
not gonna get us killed,” she swerves the car a bit, with a giggle, “maybe a
little damaged, but not killed.”
“Penny, you’re evil, ya know that?” He answers, his heart beating erratically
in his chest.
“So, I’ve been told.”
The ride after that is calm and uneventful, and while he is grateful for that,
he knows Brooke is going to find a way to make up for that later. She takes a
sharp turn into a large field, and if he doesn’t know any better he would think
this is the part where she kills him. But, this is Brooke Davis so…and her door
opens and there is blaring music. Yep, definitely trouble.
Her door closes and he remains enclosed in the safety of the vehicle, until the
slight chill of autumn intrudes when Brooke flings the door open.
She is bent down, looking at him expectantly, her hand outstretched. He studies
the goose bumped covered flesh of her arm. She is cold. It had been warmer when
she had chosen her outfit. The knowledge of her possible discomfort is what
drives him to enter the unknown territory of the other half of the teenage
world.
He pulls the ‘Scott Body Shop’ hoodie over his head, and silently offers it to
her. She looks at it for a moment. It had never occurred to him that she might
reject his offer.
But, she grabs it with a small non-dimpled, yet genuine smile. She pulls it
over her head, ruffling her immaculate curls. Taking hold of his hand, she
leads him to where she wants and it takes him back to the first time he ever
hung out with her.
They step into the glow of a camp light, and there is a blush tinting her
cheeks. Julian can’t stop himself from touching the heated skin. Brooke’s
downcast eyes snap up to his, and he is very aware that they are among a crowd
of other teenagers, possibly a few college students. Right now he doesn’t care.
“You’re blushing,” his voice is smooth, and even he can hear the seductive
gleam in it. Or maybe he sounds creepy.
It might be his imagination, but she steps closer to him, and he curses himself
for letting her borrow his hoodie. Because, right now if it wasn’t for it, they
would be chest to chest, tank top to t-shirt, cotton to cotton.
Suddenly, someone screams, drunkenly, “whore!” effectively breaking the spell,
and getting Brooke’s attention. The raven haired girl seems annoyed but
delighted at the sound of the word, but Julian doesn’t like it.
Soon, a red head is flinging her arms around Brooke’s shoulders, leaning all
her weight on a surprised Brooke. “Woah, Rach, you are wasted already.”
A tiny giggle is accompanied with a shake of the head. “Nope, just a bit
tipsy.”
Brooke shakes her head, and shifts her feet in order to support her friend’s
weight better. Julian moves to help her, but she shakes her head. “Rachel,
sweetie, what am I going to do with you?”
The fiery haired girl becomes offended, and she pushes herself out of Brooke’s
arms, stumbling away from them. “Like you fucking care, Miss Perfect Davis. The
only reason you ever noticed me this summer was cuz I was a threat to your
little throne, Miss Queen B. No matter what the hell I do, you still won‘t let
me touch that spot that is reserved specially for Miss. Tortured, Slit My
Wrists, even though she fucked you over just to get laid.”
“How do you know…?”
Rachel flicks her wrist. “Please, everyone knows about Brathan, and what they
should have been,” a mocking laugh leaves the glossed, yet cracked lips of the
pretty girl, “I might be a backstabbing slut, but I am loyal to my friends. I
would never do that to you.”
“We had just become friends, she didn’t know…” Brooke defends, and Julian
stands back, taking in the situation.
“Bullshit, everyone knew! I know, and I wasn’t even here then. It’s there every
time you look at each other. She stole everything from you! Everything that
mattered. And like that wasn‘t enough, she had to have…”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP! Just shut up! Please. You don’t know her or me. You don’t
understand anything that happened back then. And the so called look you‘re
talking about, it‘s filled with barely concealed hatred and resentment. Trust
me.”
Julian senses that Brooke is on the verge of her breaking point, and moves so
her back is against his chest. She is tense at first, but soon relaxes after
Rachel stumbles out of their line of sight.
“Please, don’t ask any questions. I’ll tell you everything, soon. And it’s not
anything like she said. It’s…it’s a lot more complicated than that. The three
of us…Nathan, Peyton, and I…all made life changing decisions that summer. Mine
had the biggest impact, though. It’s what, in the end, determined my future
with Nathan. And well, as you know, we’re friends.”
She hasn’t turned in his arms, and he isn’t sure if that’s a good or bad sign.
“Do you ever regret your choice?” He dreads her answer, and when all he is met
with is silence, he regrets asking.
One of his worst fears was aways being second to some one else, and it seemed
like his entire life was spent being just that. Second to Lucas for Haley, a
stand for his father at home.
“Everyday.” Her voice is soft, and full of so much pain it’s beyond
comprehension. “But not for the reasons you’re thinking.”
He wants to dig deeper into the subject, to know why her voice sounds so
wounded, but she is tugging on his arm before he can say anything. What Julian
considers to be quite a large man, not so much as fat, as muscular comes up to
them. Even though he will deny it later, he is definitely intimidated.
But, Brooke seems at ease in his presence. In fact, she doesn’t hesitate in
giving him a short hug, before returning to Julian’s side and looping her arm
through his.
“Jabby, this is Owen,” Brooke yells over the music, “one of my bestest friends
ever! And Owen this is Jabby, but I’m sure he’d rather you call him Julian.”
Owen’s brown eyes scan him. “So, you’re the son o’ bitch who has occupied our
Baby B’s time for the passed few days. Huh?”
Julian struggles to respond, but Brooke laughs “Owen, be nice to my Juju.”
Owen tugs her away from Julian’s side and against his, giving her a tight
squeeze. “Always, sugarplum.”
In response, the petite girl rolls her eyes and pulls herself free from the
embrace. Shuffling his feet, Julian fights the urge to fidget with his fingers,
shirt, anything that would make him look like a dork.
“Clay is coming home…” Brooke says, and Owen’s stoic face suddenly breaks out
into a grin.
The petite girl is pulled into a tight embrace, lifted off the ground, and
twirled in the air. When she is back on her feet, the bulky guy brushes hair
away from her face.
“With him back, maybe things will start to make sense again.” There is a bit of
shame in his voice. “But, why is he coming back?” He asks, sounding suspicious.
“What makes you think he needs a reason? Maybe he just wanted to see us…”
“Brooke…”
“Okay, fine…Nathan is in the hospital.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Brooke shrugs, that same sadness from before in her eyes. “I didn’t think you’d
care.”
Owen nods, his face returning to it’s earlier expression, or lack there of.
“You’re right, I don’t.”
Brooke seems to notice something Julian doesn’t, because she cups her friend’s
cheek, or at least he hopes Owen is just her friend, and whispers “he’s okay,
O.”
A smile replaces the blank look on the older man’s face, and he raises his
beer. “Enough serious shit, can I get you two a drink?”
Julian is about to decline, but Brooke beats him to it and politely says,
“yes.”
He knows before he tastes it that it’s a type of alcohol. Brooke, without
hesitation, puts the glass bottle to her lips and takes a big gulp, the smooth
skin of her neck convulsing seductively as she swallows. He imagines himself
sucking on that flesh, exploring every inch until he finds the spots that make
her writhe and moan his name, begging for more.
Right before the drink leaves her mouth, her tongue swipes around the top to
gather any escaped liquid. The dirty thoughts swirling through his head
motivate him to take his own long swig. Maybe Julian is just paranoid, but Owen
is looking at him as if he knows that he is thinking about every possible way
there is to violate Brooke’s body.
Some girl captures the other man’s attention, in more ways than one, leaving
Julian alone with his fantasies and unfortunately Brooke. His beer is half gone
by time she is on her second. Then, she is taking the beverage from his hands
and leading him over to a more crowded area.
He spots the make-shift bar, and knows that he should stop there. He could
easily stop, and restrain her as well. But, he doesn’t because he is curious to
see where this night might lead. Despite the two beers she has downed already,
she takes a seat on one of the miss matched stools, gracefully crossing one
bare leg over the other. Julian follows close behind, choosing to stand near
her, rather than sit.
A black-haired, brown-eyed boy approaches them, a drink already prepared for
Brooke. Wordlessly, without any consent or question of what he may want, the
bartender slides him a tall glass and Julian struggles to catch it before it
falls off the counter.
Brooke giggles at the event, and grabs his hand, pulling him down onto one of
the stools. She sips leisurely on her drink, in no hurry to finish it, and he
repeats her actions. By now his head feels woozy and his vision is a bit
clouded, but that doesn’t stop him from joining her on the dance floor.
Although, he is pretty sure he had objected at first. Hadn’t he?
But, none of that matters once her hips are in his hands, her behind pressed up
against his groin, and her hair teasing his senses with it’s flowery smell. He
feels stupid, just standing there like a deer caught in head lights as this
beautiful girl grinds against him, laughing and talking about something he
can’t quite hear over the loud music.
Then, she turns around so they are face to face, well not really. He is a good
foot taller than her. As always, she finds a solution to their problem, and
pulls his ear down level to her mouth. He shivers, involuntarily at the
sensation of the delicate, untouched (by him) skin brushing against the lobe of
his ear. He is so caught up in the intense way his body responds, that his lust
fogged mind almost doesn’t register the reason for the movement of her lips is
verbalization.
“That guy at the bar was Chase. Him and Owen have this dream of owning a bar
someday, and this is their way of sorta making it happen before it actually
does, ya know?”
Julian forces himself to put a bit more space between them, it’s the only way
he’ll be able to give this serious conversation the attention it deserves, give
everything she says, whether it be a lame attempt at a joke or confiding him
about Nathan, the attention it deserves. Although, it truly is painful to rob
himself of the heat of her body, excruciatingly so.
“That seems like…
Brooke sighs, her shoulders sagging, her hips ceasing in their movements.
“Lame?”
He is quick to shake his head. “No. Brave. Really brave. To have such a big
dream, and have the faith to blindly reach for it, like they are. I can‘t
imagine how much money they invest in all this alcohol, and I haven‘t seen them
charge anyone for a drink tonight. Can they even legally do this?”
Mysteriously, Brooke kinks an eyebrow, giving it away. She was a contradiction.
“Of course not.”
“Bumblebee, what are your dreams?” He asks, and he knows his voice is too
serious. He should have stayed with their joking vibe, and he might have been
able to get something out of her.
Instead, she smiles that smile that he has grown to hate. He wants to tell her
that he can see through it, but he doesn’t want to scare her.
“Well,” her tongue runs along her top teeth, before making a clicking sound, a
mischievous smile replacing her fake one, “I did have quite a naughty dream the
other night. It included you…with a tattoo.”
She takes a step towards him, barely pressing herself against him, just enough
for her bare knees to come in contact with his jean covered ones, but its
enough for him to know that whatever she has planned, he is already a willing
victim.
“You don’t have any tattoos, do you?” Her voice is sultry, and her breath
smells of liquor. He’s always hated the odor, but when associated with her,
it’s different. And he has the push to kiss her, to taste the tantalizing
smell.
He shakes his head, his mouth forming a silent “no”
Then, as soon as she turns on the moment, she turns it off by dragging him- she
seems to do that a lot- towards wherever the hell they are going. Like a puppy
who still isn’t sure how to respond to a leash, he is led by her through a mob
of dancing bodies, a few beer pong tables. And he thinks he might have seen a
couple having sex…?
His curious, naïve eyes stop their exploration when he is forced to an abrupt
stop. Brooke’s eyes are looking up at him, all bright and hopeful.
“This here, is Chris,” she introduces, her voice overly casual, “Chris, this is
Julian.”
Chris sizes him up, before smirking. “So what can The Keller help ya with? What
exactly are you looking for?”
Julian is confused at first, then he spots the tattoo gun, or what he thinks is
a tattoo gun in the slim fingers of ’The Keller’ and the tiny jars of ink, he
isn’t sure what to say.
He looks over at Brooke, and of course, she still has ’that’ look. She truly is
evil, pure evil. She already knows he is going to say yes. Knew it before she
even forced him over here. And now he is going to give her something else she
wants…the option to choose what is going to scar his body for eternity.
“I’m not sure. Do you have anything in mind, Penny?”
The entirety of her face lights up, and she does a little jump, her happy clap
joining in. All of this happens in unison, and he wonders how her small body
can be so animated without tearing itself apart.
“I was thinking we could get matching tattoos!”
That definitely peeks his interest, and for the first time this tattoo seems
like a good idea. Evidently, his expression is enough to let her know she has
his approval, and she lets out a squeal of excitement.
“I was thinking of the coordinates of the place we hung out for the first time,
ya know, our spot. Is that okay.” It isn’t a question, in no way shape or form,
despite being worded as one.
He nods. He doubts that he really has any choice or control over this
situation. She retrieves a small, wrinkled piece of paper from her back pocket,
a triumphant smile firmly on her face. Smoothing out the paper, she shows it to
him, awaiting his opinion. He knows at this point it’ll crush her if he doesn’t
like it. He does, but even if he didn’t he would lie.
It read 35<3 59’19”N 78<3 54’26”W. He just hopes he can replace the hearts with
something else, even stars will do. Then she goes on to explain that her hearts
will be colored in with brown because he introduced her to mudding, and his
will be filled in with blue because she took him to the ocean. Suddenly, the
hearts sound like a good idea.
Despite this new bit of information, the same coordinates are still going to be
inked on both of them. And he is fine with that. Because the place she had
shown him had another co-owner. The place he had taken her to, belonged to him
solely, and now her.
Chris seems to be growing impatient, his foot starting to tap, and a very loud
exhale leaving him.
“Alright, The Keller doesn’t have all night, where do you guys want these tats
and who’s going to be my first victim?”
“Chillax Kells, we still have details to discuss. I think yours should be in my
handwriting and mine should be in yours…?” This time her voice is questioning,
and he can tell this part of the tattoos is very important to her.
This moment is too perfect, too much like a movie scene to not reach out and
touch her face. So, he does and she smiles.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
Before Chris can verbalize his impatience again, Julian speaks, “I want mine on
my arm, as big as possible.”
Chris rolls his eyes. “Finally, sit your ass down. Bull Dung, rewrite this
thing on a fresh piece of paper.”
Julian does as ordered, and watches as Brooke effortlessly writes out the
coordinates, but it isn’t as loopy as he remembers. It’s more like the note she
had written him at the top of her number, when she had given it to him.
“Rewrite it, don’t concentrate so much this time. Just relax, and do it. I, uh,
want it to be loopy.” He knows how lame he sounds.
She peers up at him with a small, secret smile and does as requested. He stares
off into space as the stencil is made, and suddenly all the complications that
can happen occur to him. The stencil is pressed against his chilled, naked
skin, at some point he must have removed his shirt, and the buzz of the gun
makes him tense.
“That is a real gun, right? Not a homemade one?”
Chris seems incredibly annoyed and insulted by the question. “Of course! Next,
why don’t you ask if I’m wearing gloves or if I shaved the area first….or if I
am licensed.”
“Are you?”
Chris laughs. “No…only to the last question.”
Before Julian can object, the needle is inserted into his skin, not just once
or twice, or even three times but over and over. He winces at first but the
small section that is being assaulted eventually becomes numb, and he relaxes.
Though the freeze of the autumn night is becoming annoying. It is finished soon
enough, and he almost wants to stop Brooke from doing what he just did. He
doesn’t want her to have to experience the pain.
But, selfishly, he wants her branded as his, forever. So, when she tugs his
hoodie over her head, messing up her already tangled hair, revealing creamy
flesh he certainly doesn’t object when she points to the spot she wants
branded. Her chosen place is right above her left breast, and he wonders if the
detail that it is right over her heart has a significant meaning. He decides he
is probably over thinking it.
He messily scrawls down the meaningful numbers, cursing his horrid handwriting.
He is about to redo it, but Brooke snatches the paper up from under the pen
before he can.
She looks at him as if what he just tried to do was the most terrible thing
ever. Even though he knows it’s irrational, he buckles under the pressure of
her stare and starts to believe the unspoken accusation.
“I, um, just wanted to try to make it better,” he defends, lamely, very lamely.
She laughs and grabs his hand from her sitting position. “Julian, it’s
beautiful.”
“But, you can barely read it…”
“Exactly. You, it’s you, your handwriting, unhindered. I don’t want you to try
to make it anything else.”
He looks down at her and her eyes are clear. For the first time since they
began this little adventure, he thinks about their earlier alcohol consumption.
He is pretty sure that he is mostly sober, but he’s not certain about her. Her
eyes seem…rational. If that even makes sense.
Not that anything really makes sense when he’s with Brooke. She always finds a
way to disconnect him from reality. And that will be his excuse later when he
is asked about this tattoo. Okay, that was a lie. He will most likely grin like
a fool as he explains the true meaning behind it. He already wants to bang his
head up against something at the simple image of him, yet again, being not only
love-sick but love-pathetic over Brooke Davis.
Then, he smiles at the image, because he is experiencing this feeling and it is
real and its happening and she is a constant in his life. At least for now. She
has made him into a basket case. If he is diagnosed as being bi-polar he is
sending the doctor bills to her parents.
He watches as Chris prepares the brown to use later on in the tattoo. The
thought of such a bland color on such a vibrant girl doesn’t seem like a good
idea anymore. He changes his mind when he sees his penmanship embedded in her
skin in bright red ink.
JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB
Lucas rolls his eyes as Haley paces the small length of his room.
“He…he just left. He’s gone and not answering his phone. And he’s with her…”
His blue eyes continue to follow her, unsure of how to handle an irrational
Haley. She has always been the sane one in their trio. The voice of reason, the
one to keep them grounded. At least for him. And to see her panicking like
this, over something so simple, is unsettling.
He stands from the bed and steps in front of her. Too caught up in her own
thoughts and rant to notice him until the last minute, they almost collide. Her
eyes snap up to his, wide and teary, his hands holding tightly to her waist.
“Hales, Halo. Julian, he’s a good guy, but he’s stupid as hell if he can’t
recognize how special you are,” he compliments her.
“You called me Halo,” she whispers, and he is surprised and a bit upset that,
that is what she noticed out of what he said. “You haven’t called me that since
you became obsessed Peyton Sawyer.”
“I, ugh. I guess not, no.” He really hadn’t noticed, and he feels extremely
guilty because of that.
She is clinging to him now, and her tears are soaking his shirt.
LHLHLHLHLHLHLHLHLHL
Nathan is sleeping, and Peyton takes advantage of the opportunity to watch him.
She is sitting in the uncomfortable recliner beside his bed, but not even the
broken spring in the chair can deter her attention away from the young boy.
God, she loves him. So much. Too much.
The room is littered with gifts from their peers. Countless cards are stacked
so high on the sink that they threaten to tumble over. Balloons of all kinds
are floating around the room. Some are absurd shapes, ones a football, even
though it’s a school wide fact that Nathan is a basketball player. Most of them
say ’Get Well Soon’. However, a few say things like ’Use her sympathy. Get
laid.’
But few of the gifters know the real Nathan Scott. The broken little boy that
lays behind the winning shots, best party thrower, sex god. The little boy that
he has spent years learning to expertly hide. Even she doesn’t know him
completely yet. He has secrets, scars so deep that she isn’t sure he will ever
reveal them all to the outside world. But, she plans to stick around for as
long as she can, until this love that they have been cursed with no longer has
any foundation. Not that it really has one now.
A line from some song that Brooke had made her listen to a few days ago pops
into her mind, ‘I will go down with this ship.’ And she will, because even if
there is no saving Nathan Scott, at least not by her, she will stand by him. At
least until he finds a not so damaged woman, who can love him completely, show
him all of herself without any reservations. Then she will back away, knowing
that he is in safe hands, until then she will stay.
She doesn’t think it’s going to be that simple though. Nathan Scott has become
her addiction. He is underneath her skin, apart of her. And she hates him for
it. She hates herself for it. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.
When he had insulted her hair, her looks, one of the few things she was sure
of, it had surprised her how much the insult hurt coming from him. So, she had
done what she always did, put up her walls and shot back, only with more venom,
with the intention of causing him more hurt than he had her. Then he had to go
and ask her on a date. What the hell was up with that?
Not only that, he had denied her the pain she was in need of that night. It was
the only way she could feel something other than that constant ache. The only
way to rid herself of the voices telling her over and over that it was her
fault her mom was dead. Instead, he had made her feel even more. Something she
swore she would never feel. Compassion. For someone who was just as, if not
more, broken than her.
He was Nathan Scott! The guy who fucked your brains out for one night, promised
to call you but never did. She wanted that, needed that, and he had failed her.
But, he hadn’t. Not at all. He, of all people, with his drinking binges and
countless conquests, ended up being her hero.
But, it wasn’t quite that simple. At least not in the beginning. Nathan still
had countless girls all over him, and, of course, their new relationship didn’t
stop him from resorting to old habits. It was how he coped with his new
feelings, having to depend on someone for the first time in his life. He had
done everything in his power to push her away, and she had pulled him. Just as
he had stopped pushing and started pulling, she began pushing.
Other people came and went from their dysfunctional relationship. There were
drinking binges, and Peyton went from being with just one guy to having a list
of so many sex partners she lost count. Together, they were toxic. Apart, the
thought alone brought both of them to their knees.
After all that, they are here, in this hospital room surrounded by the smell of
death, with the knowledge that they have been blessed, though undeserving, with
a second chance. To treat this thing they have like it is. Something that is
nearly impossible to find in the fucked up world that environs them. Even if
the version they have found is demented.
He stirs, looking oddly small in the bed. His eyes open, looking around the
room for her. He smiles when he finds her.
“Hey,” he whispers.
“Hey.” Her voice cracks.
He opens his arms and says, “C’om ‘ere.” And she does.
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