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"You know, if we keep this up, people will think we're dating."

"Shut up, Nathan."

Peyton relaxed in her chair as Nathan lied in her bed, letting a basketball roll from his fingers into the air. The two of them did this sort of thing all the time; sit in Peyton's room and just let the time pass by. When Brooke wasn't around, of course. Brooke and Peyton were inseparable, but, to both girls' dismay, Brooke's parents chose to occupy as much of the girl's time as possible… and not for good reasons. Peyton didn't look at Nathan.

"I wouldn't be caught dead dating you," she laughed.

"Oh, come on," he said. "We've known each other for years now. What's the harm?"

"Because you're a jackass in public, Nathan."

"True," he sighed.

Peyton looked over at Nathan, who was still playing with the basketball.

"Why are you a jackass, anyway?"

"I take after my dad, I guess."

"Oh, the infamous Dan Scott."

"Shit. Don't use big words like that."

Peyton looked back at the wall, laughing to herself as Nathan pouted on the bed. She was, of course, a little upset that Nathan hadn't answered her question. The issue had been bothering her for a while now.

"God, why can't you be this nice outside this room?"

Nathan laughed: "Because then I'd lose my boyish charm!"

"What boyish charm?"

Nathan chucked the basketball at Peyton (lightly, of course) who caught it, much to his surprise.

"What, you think you're the only one who can catch a ball? It's not much of a skill, Nathan Scott."

Peyton was in her room again – she found that she was always in her room. Nathan had left a couple hours ago… only to be replaced by Brooke. These days, she was never alone. Not that she minded. Most of the time, she enjoyed the company.

"I'll tell you a second time. I am not dating Nathan Scott."

"Liar."

"You'll never believe me."

"Come on! He's the star of the basketball team, as a sophomore I might add. And it's not like he spent a lot of time on the bench last year either. Not to mention he's hot. That's always a plus."

"No, Brooke."

Peyton was on the bed this time, beside Brooke. Brooke was reading some magazine or the other. She was always bringing along some magazine to read. Peyton had no idea where Brooke even got magazines to that multitude.

"You're so boring, P. Sawyer."

"What? I'm not drama filled enough for you?"

"No, it's out of character. I don't like it. Now, get ready. We have a party to get to."

"Fuck, no. I don't want to go."

"Too bad, P. Sawyer."

Brooke pushed Peyton off the bed (mind you, finally putting the magazine down), and glared at her from over the bed.

"Too bad, because you're going to that party. With me. And you're going to look nice. Got it?"

"Fine."

"Good. Now wear this," Brooke sad as threw an outfit over at Peyton. "You'll look great in this. And now you can seduce Nathan, too."

"I do not want to seduce Nathan!"

"Whatever, Blondie."

Peyton sighed as she obediently put on Brooke's chosen outfit. She thanked God (or whatever deity that happened to be listening to her at the time) that Brooke had not chosen some slutty outfit for her to wear.

"Now, let's go," Brooke said, obviously excited to get going.

Peyton smiled, tugging at the outfit.

"We'll take my car," Peyton said. "You're going to be staying at my place anyway. From the amount of time you had to spend with your parents earlier, I'm guessing you don't want to go back tonight."

"You haven't pieced together that many words in a week."

"Shut up, Brooke."

The two of them laughed as they slid into Peyton's car. Peyton started up the car and pulled out of the driveway.

"Peyton?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Peyton nodded. She knew exactly why Brooke was thanking her. They'd been through this before. Besides, Peyton had met Brooke's parents. They weren't exactly the best couple of people. Especially the mom. They both knew it'd be fine if Brooke stayed the night at Peyton's; Brooke's parents hadn't cared before, so they wouldn't care now.

The two of them smiled. They were actually making good time, and just driving like this was nice. Brooke took a deep breath. If she wasn't Brooke Davis, she'd just decide not to go to this party, and just drive around with Peyton. The car came to a jolting halt.

"What the hell?" Brooke muttered… loudly.

"Don't blame me. This asshole stopped in the middle of the road," Peyton complained. She turned to the pedestrian standing before her. "Move, now."

The person didn't budge, but picked up his dribble while pulling out his earphones. The basketball was at his hip now. He didn't even say a word. He just stared.

"I mean it," Peyton yelled. "Move it!"

Peyton jolted the car forward, to add corroboration to her words. The person shrugged and dribbled away, at a painfully slow pace.

"Jackass," Peyton mumbled.

"He reminds me of Nathan…"

The car sped away to a house shivering with music, radiating the undeniable scent of alcohol. How the police didn't bust the kids every time was beyond Peyton. She heaved a sigh and stopped the car, and she and Brooke got out.

"This should be fun," Peyton breathed.

"Oh yeah. Time to go Scott hunting."

Brooke smiled, the carefree exhilaration moving through her veins.

"Brooke? Where's Brooke?"

"Tim, one more drink! One more drink! Yeah! That's right! Keep at it!"

Peyton rolled her eyes at the sight of Nathan passing a countless number of red, plastic cups to the not-so-smart teammate. He really was a jackass in public. Peyton didn't even try and say hi. Instead, Peyton looked for Brooke. It was getting late, she was tired, and she wasn't about to leave Brooke alone at this party. Peyton knew Brooke well enough to know that the girl was a) also very tired from keeping up such a bouncy pretext or b) completely wasted and about to do something very stupid. Thus, she deemed it best to search for her friend… despite the number of couples she walked in on.

"Brooke?"

Peyton heard the familiar, raspy giggle emanating from one of the rooms.

"Damn it, Brooke."

The blond – reluctantly – opened the door, and there Brooke was, completely hammered and passed out on top of a guy, who, she presumed, was one of the Raven's benchies.

"Okay, fun's over. Out, dude."

"No, no way! Who're you anyway," he slurred, "her girlfriend."

"Out. Before I kick your ass. And you know I can kick your ass, freshie."

"Yes, ma'am."

The boy rushed out of the room, his shirt stuck on his head. Peyton watched as the idiot stumbled out, and for some reason, felt a tug at her chest. Brooke deserved better than this ass. She sighed as she tried to help Brooke up. There was no way she was going to go out the front door looking like this. Peyton laid Brooke down, closed the door, and walked towards Nathan.

"Nathan," she said. "Now."

"Look at this. Peyton Sawyer is asking for me. Maybe she needs something." Nathan winked at the teammates surrounding him.

"Now, Nathan."

The Ravens began to cheer as Nathan got up to follow Peyton (and as Tim downed yet another drink). When they were out of earshot, Peyton spoke.

"Are you done being a jackass?"

"Sorry."

"You're really an asshole, you know that?"

"C'mon, Peyton. Look, I'll explain it to you later, okay?"

"Fine. But I expect payback."

"Now what's wrong?"

"Brooke's passed out in one of your beds. No – don't look at me like that, I walked in before they could get very far. But she's piss drunk. I don't want her going out the front door, not with all those people around. Is there any other way out?"

Nathan followed Peyton into the room Brooke was in, contemplating the different options. The backdoor was out of the question. There were people around there, too."

"We can sneak into the garage, and then you two can go out that way."

"Thanks, Nathan. Seriously. I still don't know why you can't be this nice out there," Peyton said, motioning outside.

"I said, I have my reasons. In due time, Peyton Sawyer. In due time."

"This mysterious thing doesn't suit you, Nathan. You're much too thick."

"Hey."

"You deserve it," she said, holding a passed out Brooke by the waist.

"True…"

Peyton followed Nathan's directions until the two girls were out of the garage and in Peyton's car.

"Don't play your shitty music," Brooke complained, still unconscious.

Peyton laughed and drove the two of them back to her empty, empty house.

"Okay, there you go, into bed."

Brooke grunted as she curled up in the bed, still reeking of alcohol. Peyton sat on the edge of the bed, leaning beside Brooke.

"Brooke Davis… What am I going to do with you?"

It was cold, so Peyton shivered. Her mind, as always, traveled elsewhere. She hardly even noticed it happening. It just did. She hardly noticed Brooke's hand sneaking towards the hem of her shirt either, until she was pulled down that is.

And there it was.

Peyton was on top of Brooke, practically straddling her.

Their lips pressed together.

Peyton freaked.

***

"What the hell?" Nathan groaned.

He was still cleaning up after the party, and it was a hell of a job, providing that none of them had decided to stay. They were just there for the booze anyway, and for the mere fact to say they were at Nathan Scott's party. Nathan knew Peyton was right; he was being a jackass. He laughed to himself. Dan probably knew exactly what happened whenever he asked to borrow the beach house. Dan was probably proud, the twisted bastard. The doorbell rang again.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered. "I can't catch a break."

"Nathan, open up!"

"Hi, Peyton. Where's Brooke?"

"Nathan, we need to talk. I need to talk."

"Come on in. Spill. Help me clean up a little."

"Nathan Scott, doing menial housework. Not screwing another cheerleader?"

"Already done, Peyton Sawyer."

"Gross."

"You asked for it," Nathan smirked. "Now, what did you want to talk about?"

"Nathan…" (Peyton didn't know when it started to become easy to speak to Nathan. He had become her second go-to after Brooke).

"You didn't answer my first question, by the way. Where's Brooke."

"I kissed her."

There was a silence. Well, it was a near silence anyway. Nathan dropped the beer bottle he was holding in his hand. And then he dropped the entire garbage of bag of bottles he had been holding in his other hand. Peyton could see Nathan gulp.

"Don't look at me like that, Nathan. God, you're such a guy. Stop, Nathan. Don't imagine it."

"Whatever you say," he squeaked.

"Look, Nathan. I can't let this get out of hand. I don't know what's going on here. She was piss drunk, Nathan! She had no idea what was going on. She has no idea what's going on. I just need… I just need to figure out what I'm feeling, you know?"

"I understand."

God. Why couldn't he act like this more often?

"Nathan, remember when I said I wouldn't be caught dating you?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Well, I might have to go back on that…"

"What? What about Brooke?"

Peyton flinched.

"I'm asking you to pretend with me, Nathan. She can't know that I'm even trying to figure anything out. And she won't press me for information if she thinks I'm dating you."

"I see…"

"Nathan… I don't want to lose her."