Fading Like A Flower
Peyton's golden spirals started to move as the slender blonde pushed her body up from her mattress. For a moment, she remained on her bed, with her long, toned legs hanging over the rim. The process of waking up was brutally interrupted when her now usual routine of nausea urged her to hurry towards the bathroom. The teenage girl hang her head over the toilet seat and what followed…well, let's say it didn't really make her eager for breakfast.
Tired and with an aching body, she pulled herself up and got dressed for school. Damn it, she thought as she watched her reflection in the mirror; going over the dark circles under her eyes; I look like shit. But she forced herself to ignore the fact that she looked like she had just been run over by a train- it pissed her off too much.
Yet it wasn't only the morning sickness, but also the tiredness and the sensitivity of her body-especially her breasts, which were visibly expanding. 'All Lucas' fault' she thought at times, mostly when she was in a dark place. Luckily, her stomach hadn't started to show yet, at least not to the public eye. Very slowly, Peyton pulled op the thin fabric of her tank top and stroke her slightly protruding stomach.
She hadn't told anyone about the life growing inside of her yet; not Brooke; not her father; not the father…nobody. Why would she? Lucas was in love with Brooke and she was in love with him. Knowing Lucas, he'd do something he'd regret later and break up with Brooke and she didn't want him to; she put his and her best friend's happiness in front of hers, as she always had.
The only problem was that she was going into her fourth month. Seeing as it was halfway through January now, it wasn't much of a problem to cover her stomach up but for example, cheerleading; she had to quit the team. People would've noticed. Soon she wasn't going to be able to rely on the winter season anymore either, but all the more on the gossip that'll rule Tree Hill High.
She realized she had to get away as soon as possible; she had called her father yesterday. He told her he'd be back next week; so that's when she'll tell him and make plans to come with him to wherever he's going. She'll just tell her friends her dad forced her or something.
The blonde took a deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror one last time; with her wide rang of concealers and rouges she had cleaned up beautifully. Content with her reflection, she left the house and headed for school.
As Peyton walked the halls of Tree Hill High, she felt a jealousy creep upon her, a jealousy directed towards all the careless students laughing and joking all across. Ignoring her irritation at the easiness of their lives, she walked to her locker and opened it.
"Hi, P Sawyer," the familiar raspy voice almost immediately greeted her. "Guess what day it is today?"
"The 'I-feel-like-crap'- day?" She sarcastically replied with a faked smile. Grabbing her history book, she shut her locker door.
Briefly, a thoughtful expression came upon the brunette's face, as if she was thinking about the possibility of it being the 'I-feel-like-crap' day.
"No," she then answered before continuing cheerfully as they walked towards their classroom. "It's Rachel's birthday, she just invited me…us."
"And you're excited about anything that has to do with Rachel since…When?"
"Since she's throwing her party at 'Temptation'. That's like, the hottest club around! "
"Tempting…" she said in a tone that suggested the opposite "but I think I'll pass."
"What? Why not?"
"I'm just… not feeling like it."
"Peyt…" Brooke stopped and put her hands on Peyton's arms "What's wrong? Lately…you haven't been feeling like doing anything."
"There's nothing Brooke," she tried to convince her but didn't really did a great job as she couldn't even look her friend in the eye while saying it "really," she tried to add power to her words.
"Then you should come!" She raised her voice stimulating. "It's going to be fun and we can finally get you out of these rags."
Immediately, Peyton crossed her arms, as if protecting herself.
"What is it?" Brooke asked as she saw her friend's unease and again touched her arm.
"NOTHING!" she suddenly screamed whilst slapping her arm away. "I JUST DON'T WANT TO GO TO THAT STUPID PARTY! WHY DON'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?"
With those words, she raged into the classroom as a shocked Brooke slowly stepped behind her with almost dazed legs.
During the lunch break, Peyton placed herself in the corner of the refectory, with the intention of being alone. She looked down at her plate and hesitantly poked something that was supposedly a meat-dish. With disgust, she pushed her platter to the other side of the table; she couldn't even stand the smell of it.
nstead of eating, she just looked around; observing her fellow students but soon, that started to bore her so she pulled out her sketching pad and pencils. Her drawing resembled her earlier work: dark, sad and lonely. Caught up in her sketching, her body jolted lightly at the sudden figure plumping down across the table. Peyton briefly looked up, just out of curiosity but she wished she hadn't.
Lucas.
Instead of greeting him, she gave him a death glare and continued her activity. Her hormones were raging heavily today. They had throughout her whole pregnancy, but today, it was even worse; she sniped at everyone crossing her path of wrath.
"Peyt…" he looked worried "Brooke told me you freaked out on her this morning, and the morning before…and the morning before…"
"What's your point?" She asked without looking at him, what visibly irritated Lucas but he knew that a Peyton like this, this stubborn, couldn't be ordered anything.
"You just seem a little…off lately," he carefully started.
"OFF?" She hysterically screamed.
Lucas looked around him to see a few 'WTF'- stares.
"Calm down," he dared to stick his hand out and softly touch her hand. He just wanted to talk to her; help her with whatever she was going through.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" It's you touching me that got me like this, she thought. She stood up in a swift motion, picking up her stuff in one of the fastest tempos Lucas had ever seen. The poor guy didn't understand what was going on; he couldn't understand the curly blonde's frustration.
Lucas also rose from his chair. "Peyt," he tried as he chased her through the halls, outside "just tell me what's wrong, I want to be there for you."
"WHAT'S WRONG IS THAT NOONE WILL LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Hints of desperation sounded through in her voice, but mostly intense anger. Couldn't he just let her be? Or was it his intention to make everything worse?
Finally, he caught up with her and grabbed her free hand. His eyes stared into hers with sincere love and concern; he just hoped she would see how much he cared.
But instead, Peyton pressed her lips together in deep irritation, her hazel eyes glowing with pure rage. How dared he look at her like that? He had a girlfriend now and those kinds of looks were reserved only for Brooke, not for her.
"Let me go, Lucas," she said in an almost chilling voice.
"Not before you tell me what's wrong."
"I'll say this once more: let. me. go."
"Don't push me away, Peyt."
In a loving manner, he stroked her curl behind her ear but she stubbornly looked away before completely stepping away; partly because she was furious but also because she was scared he'd feel her bump.
When he again moved forward, with the intention of touching her again- Peyton didn't know where, but she did know she couldn't let him- the curly blonde took her sketching pad and hit him on the head. It was neither hard nor soft but what matters is that it did the trick: he backed away, giving her a baffled look. Had she just hit him with her sketches?
In his moment of complete shock, Peyton saw the chance to escape and quickly ran back into the building, disappearing between the students. She turned around the corner where she stopped and took a moment; this situation was getting more difficult with every day-no, minute- that passed.