MISFITS

Introduction

***

Drip. Drop. Drip.

Rain thrashed down from the heavens into linoleum gutters. Droplets slipped from gutters onto the over flooded Cipriani estate grounds. Muddy terrain gushed with liquid puddles and drowned in sheets of rain. The town of Tree Hill was in a serious state of dreariness. Even more depressing was the inner quarters of the white Cipriani Mansion. Each splatter signified every explosive insult that sprang from Richard and Victoria Davis-Cipriani's mouths.

Drip. - "Bastard!"

Drop. - "I never wanted this life, Vickie!"

Drip. - "Neither did I, Richie! Do you honestly think I wanted to be saddled with a kid?"

She was six, perched safely at the bottom of a spiral staircase. Dark hair framed her tear stained face and the miniature beauty queen buried her knees against her chest. Pain, such a dull, friendless swelling, grasped her heart and squeezed. Back and forth, Brooke rocked until the ache became less intense and more distant. All her senses evaporated and she was alone.

All alone. Unwanted. Unloved.

Then the threats came: "I'll leave, take all that's mine." And the response: "And you know what you will lose. What they will lose. I'd burn it to the ground if you take my daughter. Then you will be miserable and hated forever."

She didn't understand, wouldn't pretend to.

"Don't do this Victoria."

"You choose to make a new life with that whore and now you can lose your old life."

Her mother was not elegant or refined anymore, but bitter. Brooke watched the shadows scream at each other more. There was an arm grab, a slap! Then it was quiet and she watched a suitcase leave the closet attached to her father. More tears streamed down her eyes and soon she was hyperventilating. The stairs were spinning but little eyes focused on the front door.

"Goodbye Vickie, I hope you burn in hell."

"Guess I'll see you there."

Richard Cipriani appeared near the bottom steps, suitcase in hand. His right grip held the handle steady as his left clung to his family crest. It was engraved in a platinum cross with his surname imprinted in the back. His face was white, pale as snow until he caught sight of his daughter. Little and crying in a corner on the stairs. It was then that his face flushed with shame for plotting to leave without a goodbye.

"Brooklyn, Mi amor." He spoke Italian to her as he always had. "Here, puppet." He pushed the chained cross to his daughter. "Keep this with you forever, mi Amor."

"Don't go Daddy." She pleaded yet took the necklace. Pushing it to her heart, she listened to her father. "I love you, Sweetheart but I have to leave."

The rest was a blur, a door slam and a car cranking up.

For hours she sat, watching the night get longer then disappear. The smell of booze filled her house and her mother drunk herself into a stupor. At two in the morning the older Davis woman crawled up the stairs pass her daughter. Randomly, she hurt the little girl more than she would ever know.

"Forget about that man because he doesn't love you. He's not your father anymore. You're no longer a Cipriani, Brooke Davis."

~x~

9 years later

~x~

"Content… that's how they'd always been with being trouble makers, smart alecks, vagabonds or pompous little brats-"

BOO! A chorus of typical jocks jeered at the sharp tongued melancholy Brooder's horrid description of his peers. Husky voices and feminine growls bounced from cinderblock to cinderblock throughout the classroom. Sixteen-year-old Lucas Scott rolled bright blue irises at the hoopla before lifting his paper to read once more. One steady hand gripped the peer evaluation sheet while the other tugged self-consciously at a grey ragged hoodie. The hideous material was not only itchy but the talk of every wannabe fashionista on the school's social hierarchy…

Especially Prom Queen shoe-in: Brooke Davis.

Blessed with eyes so hazel they resembled green skies and flittering shimmers of golden stars, the Cheerleader was gorgeous. Pouted lips were the perfect shade of pink or rather red as of that moment. Bored, the brunette bit her bottom lip oh so seductively and twirled dark curls extending from two pigtails. Lucas watched the finger intensely, almost in a trance. It was once the tip of her poignant little nose turned up in his direction that the blonde realized his flaw.

He was staring!

Blink, you son of a bitch. Blink Damn IT!

"B. Davis, looks like Captain Sexy-bitch up there is eyeing you."So fucking obvious, one could literally hear the sexy redhead behind her insist. Rachel Gattina leaned over Brooke's shoulder, "Wonder what Peyton would do if she knew her ex-boyfriend was ogling you."

"Probably bitch like my bitchy best friend tends to do." They'd been best friends since they were eight and Brooke moved from Aspen. Yet, there still seemed to be some hidden spite. Flipping her hair, she passively hummed, "But you know she has a thing for Nathan. Maybe we can make a trade."

For his brother... Inwardly, he hated his younger brother for dating the one girl every guy wanted. Well, not actually dating but there had been a single date and it was made evident that Nathan could possibly be obsessed with her. Jealousy was a horrible vice – or so people told him- and if that were true than the vice had him securely around the neck. His half-brother, three months apart, had been loved by their otherwise deadbeat father while Lucas and his mother struggled daily.

But the brothers were friends – despite his father's ridiculousness.

Outwardly, he read what was supposed to be on his Literature paper or so he thought!

"…Pretty girl with lips of satin…"

Wait, that's not on the fucking paper. In fact, that was his pet name for his good friend, Brooke Davis. Just as his face burned bright, luscious lips smacked together. Small hands covered her mouth. Pushing them away, Brooke blew her current admirer a flirtatious kiss.

"Mmh-mwah!" It was a sound so enticing the Brooder nearly choked on his speech. Lakes of spit clogged his throat until he couldn't breathe. "Agh,"

"Ha-ha," Rachel snickered, "See, I told ya."

Brooke grinned until vibrant dimples dented rosy cheeks. Porcelain flesh colored, not to blush but to alert him of her interest…maybe? "Hm, if he wasn't my Best boy-toy I might give him a ride. But alas, Blondie Scott is totally off limits."

"Untouchable?" Wickedness trembled in the redhead siren's voice. The only thing naughtier was the way Brooke stared at him. Hazel gazes twinkled in mischief as a pink tongue swept over plush lips. Heat rose over his body then lit a fire at her exclamation, "Totally forbidden."

Then there was that trademark wink that told everyone she was only teasing him.

"Ahm! Ahm!" Sticks seemed to scrape at his esophagus until the Brooder could no longer hold his coughs. Tears flushed cerulean eyes but he attempted to finish. "But soon they would know - not to Jest with the Jokers."

"PIPE DOWN SCOTT!" More taunts attempted to silence his limerick but Lucas stared dreamily at the popular girl whilst reciting his story…

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, LUKE! SO WE CAN GO TO LUNCH!"

Shots of giant spitballs flung at him. Crsh! POW! The miniature cannon balls plowed into the wooden desk currently resting behind the blonde. Lucas leaned back against the desk barely even responding to the demands. Instead, he glanced from the sexy girl before him towards his teacher, Rafe Dixon.

Seated next to the exit door, the slightly overweight male attempted to silence the students but they never listened to him. Thus the useless teacher was left to usher his star pupil along. Waving his left hand, Mr. Dixon nodded towards the mumbling blonde, "Mr. Scott, would you like to bring this enthralling yet unappreciated tale to a close?"

"Sure."

"A plus by the way."

"Thanks."

Mr. Dixon nodded before turning to the entire class, "By the way, Spring Break starts Wednesday and you have two weeks!" The student body didn't seem at all interested with the exception of Lucas. The teacher continued, "So, I would hope you all have already been working on your research papers. If not, take some time from your busy nights of partying and get this done."

One or two student looked up at his last, most crucial words.

"It's forty-five percent of your grade."

"SHIT!" a few swears and some grumbling, "DAMN THIS BLOWS!"

Lucas stumbled back to his seat which was only one row across from his dream girl. Flaxen strands dripped over his forehead from the gelled styling of his new haircut. Slowly but surely, the blonde found his seat amongst the relieved students. Their chatter once again changed from his boring paper to tonight's big party. A party he was actually invited to but his overprotective mother would not allow him to attend.

"I HEAR TIM'S DAD IS THROWING ONE HELL OF A BASH!" True Rinehart let out an explosive giggle following more Junior girls' excitement. Sophomore 'IT' girl Rachel Gattina joined into the conversation, "HAHAHA, WHAT SHOULD WE WEAR?"

Psst! Hissing sounded the very moment his back hit the desk chair. Lucas followed the sound with the turn of his neck to the right. Handsome Latino and one of Lucas' best friend's Felix Taggarro nudged his childhood playmate. "Dude, tell me you actually get to escape the penitentiary that is La Casa Scott and go chase some ass with me."

"Well, I don't kno-"

"Or."

Russet tresses flung forward, tiny strands extending to his face. Lucas turned to his left to see his fantasy Cheerleader and one of his best friends peering at him. From the angle that she leaned, her full cleavage was on full display. In the valley of her breast, her beloved platinum crucifix rested. He tried hard to concentrate on her moving lips, "You could come to the library with me and help with this stupid project?"

Pfft! Felix scoffed as Brooke sent him a murderous glare. The twosome hated each other ever since Brooke blew up his mother's mailbox with a cheery bomb. Good times. "I think Luke would be safe drinking arsenic than-"

"Oh fuck off, Taggarro." If Anger could kill, B. Davis would be a mass murderer. Watching the two spare was like being caught between boxing legends Muhammad Ali and Joe Frasier. "Go change your tampon or something, you big baby."

"Soon as you remove whomever's dick is stuck up your ass, Davis."

"Hope you catch crabs, Manwhore!"

"Guys!" Firm hands gripped both angry teens by the shoulders. Felix pushed his friend off whilst Brooke simply slipped her adversary the middle finger. The Latino huffed but bristled down still when Lucas commanded, "When will you both learn to get along? It was seven years ago and the mailbox was not that AWESOME."

"Whatever."

"What the loser said."

They eyed each other as if to challenge one another in Mortal Combat.

"Oookay!" The blonde referee shrugged. "Besides, I can do both. I'll help Brooke with her paper during study hall and afterwards we" Index finger wiggling between he and Felix. "… Can try to get my mom to let me out for some fresh air."

"Don't stake your life on it!" – "Good luck with that, Blondie!"

Both Felix and Brooke let out simultaneous sarcastic quips. Everyone in the country knew that Karen ruled her son with an iron fist. Whether it was hour long study sessions, babysitting, or even volunteering – the Brooder was never allowed to have any fun.

"Shut up guys!" Vibrant baby blues narrowed in a mixture of embarrassment and anger. Gruffly, "I bet twenty bucks I stay out past six tonight."

"Ooo, that's so wild man! That will show us how bad you are." The muscular Latino raised both hands and shook in mock fear. Before Lucas could lash out, Brooke's hysterical snort cut in. "Cnk! Ha-ha, Oh Luke, if you really want to prove how edgy you are, come hang out with me at the Blue Post tomorrow!"

Blue Post with Brooke Davis?

Alerts, Alarms, sirens he didn't even know existed seemed to irrupt in his head. The Bubbly brunette was trouble, trouble, trouble. Everyone knew that since her father abandoned her mother, the cheerleader had become a wild child. Between partying all night long, being rich and getting into legal trouble, she was the epitome of everything his mother swore she would never allow him to be.

He should say no.

"What do ya say, Scott?" Felix leaned over the desk arm support. "I'm gonna be there."

Say No, Say No, Say NO!

"Okay."

Today was a day to be unpredictable.

After all, it was Friday.

||~x~||

I love Lucas Scott.

I love Haley James.

I love Nathan Scott.

Peyton Sawyer was a unique individual. Somewhere, deep inside of her head, she knew she was extremely screwed up. To be in love with three people, to be bi-sexual or to think she was, to even be madly in love with two brothers was insane. Yet, in her heart of hearts she couldn't possibly deny any of these as falsehoods. She loved whom she loved. She hated whom she hated; she missed whom she missed.

She was hidden under the football bleachers, settled in the dirt. To her right, her Jansport book bag was open to the world. Sketches and doodles were among the pile of mess in the black material. A row of cocaine lay visible against the loose leaf sheets of her notebook. Green eyes shifted wearily around the surface area. ((No one in sight!)) Leaning down towards the powdery drugs, she whispered.

"People always leave."

SNIFF! White powder scorched her left nostril like a rapid pale fire. It was all consuming, burning sinus cavities into ragged little bundles. Intense waves of pain and a hidden nostalgia piqued her color. Liquid blurred enlarged eyes with grayish tears. All of her energy was used to shake massive curls from side to side. Hallowed cheeks expanded and she gasped of breath.

"AH!"

"P. SAWYER!"

Golden curls rose from her notebook towards the approaching voice. Through her foggy gaze, the blonde could barely make out her best friend approaching. Reddish brown tresses swung, milky legs swinging back and forth with fist clutched. The brunette reached her BFF within nearly five seconds. Brooke appeared angry which meant only one thing. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Had she been caught?

"B. Davis," Both arms rose to halt her friend. Nerves bubbled and she shuttered, "I, I, I-I-I know what this looks like but that's not it!"

"Shut up, Peyton!" Her goddess like stature towered over the tortured artist as if an authoritarian figure. This always happened whenever Brooke caught her using again. Dark locks shook over her gorgeous face. "You promised me, now get the fuck up."

"Brooke." There was a moan but the brunette insisted sternly. "Get up now, Peyton."

Peyton slung her notebook to the ground, climbing up to her feet. Long jean clad legs wobbled and her fitted, black pullover hoodie hung loosely over her belly Just as she found stability Brooke's tiny fist struck out at her. A raging ball of fury, the fist exploded across the Blonde's face. Half Peyton's body seemed to shatter with unimaginable ache once broad knuckle crushed the left corner of her lip! Thin flesh split upon contact. POW!

Blood spattered over the cheerleader's fist, rings scrapping against the blonde's flesh. Scratches removed tough skin and blonde grabbed her face. Both hands covered her mouth and she stumbled backwards. The tips of her shoulder blades rammed into the back of the steel bleachers. Whining, "Argh, you bust my lip, Brooke!"

"Serves you right!" Both fist raised and waved in her direction. "And if I ever see you using again, it will be worse."

Brooke was her protector – the only maternal figure she had ever known. Peyton's mother had died in a car wreck when she was eight and after that her father was never home. The only person there for her was Brooke. This punishment was the usual as her friend had seen what cocaine did to her. The little brunette experienced heartbreak with her and refused to lose her friend. Perhaps this form of punishment would qualify as abuse but it was the only form of misguided love either of them knew.

Hand extending to Peyton, Brooke contracted and retracted her fingers in a small wave. "Give me the rest P. Sawyer." Green eyes lowered and hazels softened, "Sorry I hit you but you won't learn without punishment. I can't lose you, you know this."

"I know."

"Come to the library with me."

"For what?" Peyton wiped some of her blood away. "Is this some sort of intervention?"

"No." Hazel irises looked at their position under the bleachers. "Though, I am sure you need one since you are hanging out in Bacteria factories and dirt. But it's homework so that I don't fail creative writing."

"Get some nerd to do it."

"I am." Lucas, her Lucas was a sexy little nerd indeed. "Lucas is gonna help me."

"Lucas?" High cheekbones colored. She hadn't spent time with her ex-boyfriend since their breakup two weeks ago. The thought of him made her heart race. How did she look? Could she when him back when she truly loved him? "I…"

"You want to try to win him back?"

It sounded so…smug.

"Of course," The blonde sucked her wounded lip into her mouth. Her tongue oppressed against the slice and stopped the blood from flowing. Staring at Brooke, Peyton questioned, "You aren't going to tell Larry about this, are you? Because it was…"

"Um no." The brunette wrapped a careless arm around her friend's sharp shoulders. Randomly, she tugged at the tortured blonde's hoodie. "I think that punch and these hideous emo clothes is enough punishment. Besides how would I explain that swollen lip to Papa Sawyer?"

Both girls knew Larry would have his daughter shipped to the nearest girl's home if he discovered she was using again. Brooke waved her left hand nonchalantly as she dragged attempted to drag her friend from the bleachers. In one swoop, Peyton grabbed her book bag and tossed it over her shoulder. There was barely time to adjust before the brunette cheerleader was dragging her friend towards the crowded school building.

Long legs set the path ablaze, blonde and brunette admired by their peers. Third Lunch was always a mixture of popular students and their opposing geeky companions. Both girls past their resident table towards the library instance not too far away. Blue corridors swung open and closed, releasing the scent of withered papers and molding ink. At the door, Nathan Scott chatted with his on-again, off-again ditzy blonde girlfriend, Bevin Mirskey.

"Be serious Nathan, you can't wear leather and be a vegetarian."

"Uh, yes you can." Silver speckled baby blues narrowed into a murderous glare. "See Bev, this is why people could calling you dumb."

Brooke eyed the dark haired Scott whom tussled with his girlfriend over his jacket. Bevin's cropped blonde tresses swung back and forth as she yanked the jacket closer to her. Peyton let out a small snicker from between her throbbing lips. Even when she was miserable, beaten up, and a junkie, she could still be a bitch.

"Ha-ha, hello dumb and dumber."

The couple looked up into the face of their current spectators. Bevin gave a polite smile while Nathan simply used the opportunity to yank his jacket away. His eyes glanced at Peyton before settling on Brooke. Sex. All things that spelled lust drifted in his vibrant pupils. One brow rose while his notorious Scott grin crossed his handsome face.

"Davis," He clicked his tongue, "tsk, nice to see you." He glanced at Bevin, waving her hand like a 5 year old. "Would love to see more of you without the-"

"Your girlfriend is standing right there." The cheerleader gave him a wink and Bevin shrugged. "We are so not together until he agrees to give up all things cow!"

"Guess you'll be the first thing to go than." Peyton mumbled to which both Brooke and Nathan choked up.

"Puh-hahaha!" The raven haired Scott folded firm arms crossed over his shoulder. A giggle rumbled in the brunette girl's belly. Brooke grabbed her side to keep from crying in hysterics. Elbowing Peyton, she chuckled. "Ha-ha, P. Sawyer easy on the piss-worthy jokes, huh? I really like these new thongs."

"Thong," The male lit up like a Christmas Tree but it was deflected by his girlfriend. The clueless victim of the derogatory comment looked between the threesome utterly confused. "What? What's so funny?"

"Just more evil jargon from the Peyt-a-tron," His nickname for the heartless robot, as he often called Peyton, slipped out. Peyton opened her mouth to retort something offensive but Bevin was already pouncing in. Grabbing Brooke's arm, the perky blonde wiggled her. "B, tell Nathan that he can't be a vegetarian with me and also wear leather."

Of all the people to ask, Green eyes rolled at the idiot's open invitation for her naughty friend to be slutty.

"I don't know Bevin, I could never give up-" Her eyes dropped ever so obviously to Nathan's belt buckle. Masculine pride traveled his spine and the player on and off the court jerked his pelvis forward. Brooke smirked a dimpled seduction, "Meat."

"Ah, Really?" Bevin sighed, none-the-wiser. Brown eyes cast to her ((ex)) boyfriend, "Well I'm gonna Google it."

"Have fun with that." Nathan bit out in distain.

"I will!"

With that exclamation, the blonde skipped off towards the outdoor lunch area. Nathan's gaze trailed behind her until He saw both Peyton and Brooke heading towards the library door. Muscular legs turned towards the abandoning duo. With a sigh, "Hey B. Davis, want to swing by my place tonight? Or just go get a pizza, have you home before its dark?"

Did he really say that?

Brooke blushed slightly while Peyton scowled. It was a curse, her crush on her ex-boyfriend's brother. They had never dated but of course he had kissed her once. It had been sweet – maybe even sweeter than Lucas' kisses. And now, he was showing Brooke Davis more attention than she rightly deserved. Her best friend had it all, money, power, beauty, and a mother. Now she would have Nathan or could if she wasn't so shallow.

"Sorry Nate, but you know I don't date men without at least 40 k in the bank."

Believe it or not, that was true.

In fact, Peyton couldn't think of a single guy whom could actually say he fucked Brooke Davis. As for other sexual activities, well she knew plenty of guys whom knew how good Brooke Davis was with her hands.

"It was worth a try, Davis."

||~x~||

Fashion brochure upon brochure was piled in the center of Lucas' selected library table. He'd been sitting there for nearly thirty minutes since study hall started, no Brooke Davis in sight. Of course, she would stand him up… of frickin' course. Still, he sat quietly in his seat reading the I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings leisurely. Once or twice, one of his friends would pass by or say a few parting words but otherwise it was simply he and the books.

Shelves upon shelves beckoned him to travel the adventures of Robinson Crusoe or Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn! However, his concern was over Brooke's Career day research paper and getting his beloved friend an A. Indeed he did love her very much and even if she was oblivious, he wanted to make her love him back. They'd been friends since the day she stole one of his mother's pies from Karen's Café and he refused to nark on her.

Bzzz… Vibrations filtered from his purple LG Scrobe against the wooden table. Echoes rose from the hard oak into the library's quaint atmosphere. Lucas quickly grabbed the noise makers to prevent any of the other students from being interrupted. The phone vibrated against his hand and the blonde stared at his screen: TEXT MESSAGE!

Thumb pressed the middle OK button to reveal the text…

Text Message From: Cheery

On my way. P. Sawyer comin' 2

Oh great, Mood Swing Peyton! His ex-girlfriend was the last person he wanted to deal with. The fact that she could still get under his skin after three weeks was a scary thought. The girl had literally driven him crazy most of the time. If she wasn't screaming at him for hating THE CURE, than she was bitching because he forgot her mother's birthday.

Reply Text:

Ok, but u Owe me big.

"Ugh! Ugh, mmm!" Cries awakened the Brooder from his daydream from behind a shelf. The sound of snot vibrating before being wiped away was a sound he'd come accustomed to. Silently, the Brooder closed his book and shoved his cell phone into his jeans pocket only to hear the cries again. "Ugh! La-la-life sucks!"

Okay, he knew that voice: Tutor Girl, Haley James.

Lucas pushed his way from his seat and left his table unattended. Stealth movements lead the blonde behind the bookshelf where the class tutor leaned against a stack of encyclopedias. Pretty, strawberry blonde hair rested on her shoulders and matted to her tearstained face. Sighing, she gripped tiny strands of her hair.

"Excuse me, Miss!"

"Huh?" Haley glanced up at the talking male. Her lime green poncho brought out honey-hues irises. She wiped away tears with the back of her left hand, right still holding the back of her head. "Uh, Lucas Scott? What are you doing, talking to me?"

His nose turned up towards the girl in confusion. "Trying to figure out why you are so sad." Not missing a beat, "Um, why wouldn't I be talking to you anyway?"

"Well," Tutor Girl, as Brooke called her, shrugged her shoulders. "Well, we aren't exactly on the same social standing." Looking down, "Brooke Davis is your best friend – she's rich and beautiful. Peyton is her best friend and your ex girlfriend…"

Blonde tangles bobbed in agreement, still lost. "Well, Nathan is the star basketball player and he's your brother. And Nikki, well she's the Senior Cheer Captain and you -"

"…Cheated on Peyton with her?" Not my proudest moment. The blonde stepped closer and the girl nodded, "Yeah. That makes you 'cool' by association."

"Hm," He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "And I am a nerd and so are you. So I think we are pretty much on the same level, Haley."

Haley – she brightened at the sound of her name. Here was Lucas Scott, basketball player and literary genius, talking to her. The invisible James sister compared to her large family and even larger than life older sisters: Taylor, Quinn, and Viviane. Taylor and Viviane James had already graduated and Quinn was a popular senior while Haley stood shyly at their sides.

"Good, as long as you don't go all Carrie slash pig blood on me."

"Ha-ha never."

He let out a chuckle at the mere thought. That was so freshman year and not appropriate for sophisticated upperclassmen like themselves. Haley joined in on the laugher until she forgot all about her dilemma. Her hand slipped away from her head, dragging a mass of hair from her head. She looked down at it, both immediately stopping their laughter…

"Oh."

"Don't look!" The tutor pulled her arm behind her back. The golden red locks faltered behind her back onto the floor. Tears brimmed in her eyes and she shook her head. "Medicine… the medicine does this to my hair I think. I don't know, I really haven't looked into it."

Medicine.

He wasn't sure what that meant but he felt the need to comfort her.

"Come here," Without thinking, Lucas engulfed the small girl in his large arms. A momentary state of shock stiffened her body but soon she was back to normal. She relished the feel of his biceps against her side, his natural scent of sandalwood, and the way his hoodie felt against her cheek. "It's okay Haley James. You're still pretty."

Haley pulled back. No one had ever called her pretty before- well not compared to Taylor and Quinn. Courage or gratitude, she knew not which on, but some ungodly power drove her to lean into him. This was to be her first kiss if not her last. She may as well get something she wanted if she were damned to die anyway.

Puckered lips connected to his still mouth. He made a surprised shriek once her soft lips settled on his. She expected fireworks but was greeted with nothing. No butterflies in her stomach or nostalgia. Before she could jerk away the brooder had practically attempted to toss her off of him. It wasn't until she heard a female voice that she knew what was happening.

"Once a selfish dick, always a selfish dick."

Their bodies pulled apart to see Peyton Sawyer fleeing and Brooke Davis standing in complete awe. The blonde male shook his head in disbelief as the brunette girl stared at Haley. Parted lips uttered in sheer confusion, "Holy Crap, you are stuffing the Tutor Girl?"

"No! No!" Lucas waved his hands but Brooke overpowered him. One hand covered her mouth though she insisted, "How could you?"Something in her eyes seemed to break which confused both she and Lucas. "to, to, to Peyton. How could you do this to Peyton?"

Haley stared between the two popular students. Was this for real? Brooke Davis appeared to be even more heart broken than her befriend no matter how she tried to deflect the pain written all over her face. There was jealousy on every portion of her gorgeous face. Everyone could see if -What the hell was going on? Was Peyton Sawyer in love with Lucas Scott or was if Brooke Davis?

"I…" Words just wouldn't come to him. "Cheery, she kissed me! I swear!"

"Oh sure like Nikki fell on you dick, you douche."

"It's true! I kissed him." Haley butted in and the cheerleader glared. The look didn't seem to faze the tutor whatsoever. "But why are you so upset anyway? If you ask me, seems like you are more upset than you sidekick. And-"

"Well no one asked you! So shut up, Doctor 'Tutor Girl' Phil." Brooke stared pass the tutor to her blonde friend. "Peyton is my best friend and if she gets hurt, I start kicking asses. And you knew she was coming so you went out of your way to hurt her."

"Broooke!"

Lucas wailed but it was too late. She turned on her heels, swinging the platinum cross attached to her neck. The crucifix sparkled and nearly blinded both Haley and Lucas whom watched her stalk away. Haley slammed her hands flat on her forehead, "I'm so sorry. Leave it to me to ruin whatever sort of popular girl orgy you have mustered up."

Cerulean eyes glanced over his shoulder at the strawberry blonde, "Remember when you said life sucks?"

"Yeah?"

"You were right."

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