A/N- Okay, I wrote this really fast, and I am aware it's out of season, but I felt like writing something Brooke/Peyton oriented. And not studying for my chemistry test. So I hope you enjoy, and please review!
Disclaimer- Don't own anything. Except Slobbery-boy.
I
She's nine and she's engulfed in red and green. Her parents are home for Christmas for the first (and last) time she can remember. Peyton's sitting next to her, and they're whispering about where the gifts are hidden in Peyton's house. Her mother is talking jovially to Anna, laughing about something or another, and her father is talking shop with Mr. Sawyer.
The furiously decorated Christmas tree stands in the background, weighed down by hundreds of ornaments, a lopsided star sits on the top.
She and Peyton sneak up into the attic and are halfway through unwrapping a present when Anna rushing in and shoos them away. Giggling they collapse into Peyton's room as Christmas music echoes from downstairs and plot how they're going to spend the rest of winter break.
As she falls asleep under the red and green lights, Peyton lying next to her peacefully, Brooke thinks she finally understands the Christmas spirit
II
She's twelve and the house is empty, and dark. The power had gone out; not that she had any decorations any way. Her parents are away in Italy, or France, or somewhere else where they can't be bothered to call their daughter.
It's nine and she's sitting in front of her father's liquor cabinet with a bobby pin. She's muttering curses directed towards her father for even locking the damn thing and to Girl Scouts for not teaching her helpful skills, like breaking and entering. Just as the pin breaks inside of the lock, the doorbell rings.
She stomps grudgingly down the stairs, tripping on the third to last step in the dark and falling the rest of the way. With a scowl on her face she opens the door.
The first thing she sees in the darkness is curly blonde hair. The next thing she sees is a hand holding up a bottle of vodka. The scowl turns into a mischievous grin and she ushers Peyton inside.
They spend the night drinking to their heart's content (apparently Peyton can pick a lock, go figure) and playing an increasingly intense game of Truth or Dare that resulted in Brooke propositioning the pizza delivery boy.
As she falls asleep on her living room floor Brooke figures maybe it's not so dark after all.
III
She's sixteen and she's in somebody else's dark bedroom with a boy from the baseball team whose name she can't quite remember.
As he clumsily pushes his hand up her shirt she can hear a terrible rendition of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer sung by the football team through the too thin walls.
She considers pushing slobbery-boy off of her and going back out to the party, but she doesn't want to run into Peyton.
Peyton, who made out with her boyfriend, Peyton who betrayed her trust, Peyton who she hates (loves).
It's been weeks since they talked without it ending in a screaming match. She thinks Peyton and Lucas are together, or broken up, or pining, or whatever. It's not as though she cares (except she does, and she hates it).
When slobbery-boy attempts to lick her, she's had enough. She shoves him off of her, mutters an excuse, and runs out of the room pulling on her shirt as she goes.
She's almost to the door when she sees her. Her curly head is bent down and she looks sad, and Brooke almost feels sad too, but then remembers that it's not her problem. They're eyes meet for a second, and Peyton opens her mouth to talk, apologize, or beg for forgiveness, but Brooke just walks by her.
She gets home and it's midnight, the house is empty, and she wishes that she had just stayed with slobbery-boy, so she wouldn't feel so lonely.
As she lies awake in her bed, she waits, expecting, or maybe hoping, for the doorbell to ring and to see a blonde head holding a bottle of vodka. The doorbell doesn't ring, and there is no Peyton, but there is a whole lot of vodka.
Right before she passes out she swears never to become dependent on another person again; being alone is better (except drinking alone is no where near as much fun).
IV
She's nineteen and she's in an empty apartment feebly decorated with a plastic tree and one string of lights hanging on the mantle.
Peyton's working late, again, and Brooke is waiting up for her, because she doesn't really have anything better to do, after all she is in a new city, and doesn't know anyone except for the people she works with.
There is a store-bought roast on the dining room table that she nibbles at occasionally. Just as she is considering calling Chase and apologizing, or asking for some closure (a booty call) the door opens and an exhausted Peyton comes in.
She comes towards the table with a tired smile on her face, holding a brown bag with a cheap bottle of wine in it and Brooke starts to smile. Before they can even open it and drown their worries and problems away, the phone rings.
Brooke checks caller-id, and it's Lucas, and after a moment hands it to Peyton. It used to be her he called, but he was with Peyton now, loved Peyton now (always). She's talking to him, and leaves the room, and Brooke is alone with the cheap, crappy wine, again.
Through her room's walls she hears Peyton talking in that high-pitched lovey-dovey voice, and tries her very hardest to feel happy for her friend (she doesn't really, but Peyton doesn't need to know that).
She falls asleep wishing that she had someone to spend this night with, and wonders if she ever will.
V
She's twenty-two and there is a small Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, decorated with a couple ornaments found at a nearly deserted Crate & Barrel the night before, a couple strands of broken lights hung on the outside of the house.
She hangs up the phone angrily again, looking annoyed at the huge roast sitting on the table (she spent all day cooking it).
They were supposed to have a party, everyone would come over and they'd celebrate Christmas the way they never did. But Jamie got sick so Nathan and Haley were taking care of him, Lucas and Lindsay canceled last minute, Mouth was working, and Skillz had a "hot date". So now she and Peyton had a dinner big enough for ten all to themselves, and Peyton was no where to be seen.
She sunk down into a chair and put her head in her hands. She hated life, and she hated Christmas.
The door opened and she looked up to see Peyton with a bottle of vodka and a mischievous smile lighting up her face.
They sat on the dining room floor drinking, reminiscing, and playing an intense game of Truth or Dare that resulted in Brooke confessing her love to a very confused Mouth over the phone.
As they fell asleep under the tree that somehow looked larger when she was drunk, Brooke figured that maybe Christmas wasn't so bad after all, as long as it was spent with the right person.