"You and me is more than a hundred miles

You and me is more than the grey sky

You and me is more than lonely days

It's our time to go

Dance with me, one more time..."

Headlights skimmed over the chrome bumper of the Comet as Brooke fiddled with the dial on the radio, the volume dwindling as the Volkswagen rolled to a stop behind it.

She hadn't heard Peyton unclearly- no, she'd definitely been told that her best friend wouldn't be attending the party, so why was she here?

Brooke's eyebrows drew together as she threw the car into park, her hand snaking down to her bag a moment later to grab out her phone. There had to be some sort of explanation because Peyton wouldn't lie to her, would she?

Two weeks ago, and she would've been certain. She would have been the first to jump at the blonde's command. Now, she wasn't so sure. There'd been something up with her best friend as of late; something that saw her withdrawing from Brooke, and even going so far as spiting her in some instances. Lord knew the cheer team couldn't get through a single practice anymore without triggering the sarcastic wrath of a certain curly-headed troll. Brooke didn't know what was up, and she couldn't for the life of her seem to wriggle it out of Peyton, but for Peyton to lie straight to her face? That was a whole 'nother ball park.

Brooke lifted the phone to her ear, the one number she'd actually cared to memorise back in seventh grade already punched in, and sat back in her chair and waited for an answer that came after a mere two rings... In the form of an answering phone.

"You've reached Peyton. Leave a message."

Sighing, she ended the call, her green orbs sparing a glance out the windscreen, the walls of the beach house before her shaking with the effort of keeping whatever tunes were blasting inside it in. She skimmed over the clamour of bodies already spilling out onto the porch with the hopes she'd find the familiar set of blonde curls, and then there she was, in the midst of it all, her own eyes narrowing as they locked on the brunette's.

Caught you.

"Whatever happened to steering clear of Nathan's parties?" Brooke asked a moment later, slender arms folding over her chest as she cocked a brow at the girl before her. "I mean, that's what you intended to do, right? Because screw standing around to watch the jocks grind on anything that moves-"

"I changed my mind," interjected the blonde with a shrug of her bony shoulders, smoothing a look of nonchalance over her face. "Is that such a big deal?"

"It is when you were bitching about everyone here a few hours ago!"

Peyton merely shrugged again, Brooke's raspy words falling on deaf ears. If she saw the confusion flash across the shorter girl's face, she didn't care one bit. Instead she stood, hard and unrelenting, pinning Brooke beneath a bitter gaze. And though Brooke wanted nothing more than to return the defiant stance, her resolve gave way to a whisper of desperation before it had even begun.

"Why are you being like this?"

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe," came Peyton's flat reply, "I lied because I didn't want you to come?"

The brunette shook her head then, any ounce of the hurt she'd felt moments before carefully tucked away behind a glare. "It's my bad," she started as she pushed past the skeleton of a girl, her voice laced with the same malice the blonde seemed to be dishing out, "I must have somehow forgotten that the world revolves around your flat ass."

She didn't stir as he approached, the slow rise and fall of her ivory chest her only movement. Her chocolate locks were pushed to one side, the thin straps of her tank top hanging limply over the sides of her shoulders as her arms stretched out at her sides, fingers buried in the warm sand. Lucas would have said something earlier, had the sight of her not made his words catch in his throat.

Brooke Davis was no stranger to him. His friends had begun to notice her about the same time as he'd begun to pine over her best friend, and while he'd always found the brunette pretty, he'd never quite understood the infatuation with her. Now, watching her lone form bask in the light of the moon and the gentle sound of the waves lapping on the shore, he was starting to get there.

If only he knew what to say.

Had it been anyone else, he'd have asked after Haley. He'd lost her earlier in the night and while he was sure she could stand her own, he was over being the butt of Nathan's slurred jokes and wanted nothing more than to grab his friend leave. But of course the minute he needed her, she was nowhere to be found.

"Brooke?"

Her name slipped from his mouth before he knew it, no louder than the sound of his footsteps in the sand as he shuffled closer to where she sat. She glanced up at him then, green eyes shooting him a quizzical glance before dragging down his body so slowly it near made him shiver.

"Lucas Scott."

He wasn't prepared for the sound of his name on her lips. Her voice wasn't anything like the twang of her best friend's, no trace of exasperation in the one word. It wasn't something he'd become accustomed to as of late; hearing his name without any hint of scorn or malice, so the absence of so in her voice was perhaps more startling than it was to find himself alone on a beach with her in the first place.

"Sit with me."

It was a demand, and Lucas complied. His body found purchase in the sand less than a foot from hers, so close he could catch the scent of her perfume. "What are you doing down here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." She stretched out as she spoke, hand nudging against the side of his thigh. She didn't seem to notice, but he did. Of course he did. "Did your girlfriend ditch you?"

"Girlfriend?"

"The one you're always with," Brooke murmured, scrunching her nose in distaste as she waved a hand by her head. "With the hair."

Lucas bit back a laugh, shaking his head as a slight smirk graced his face. "You mean Haley? She's a friend."

From somewhere behind them, a new song began to play, Brooke's shoulders straightening instantaneously as she glanced back at the beach house.

"'Cause nobody knows it better

Than the girl in the corner with the scarlet letter

And while you're watching

You may think that she doesn't matter

But no one knows you better."

"I love this song," Brooke's gaze met his, and she cocked a brow in challenge before propositioning him.

"Come inside with me."

Lucas wasn't sure what the meaning behind the four words were, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to find out yet. Beside him Brooke got to her feet, her hands brushing the sand from her backside as she waited for him to follow suit, but he made no move to join her. He'd regret it in the morning, that much was sure, but he wouldn't go back inside. He'd already made himself a target by showing up to Nathan's party and he wasn't about to make the bullseye even bigger by heading back in with the prestigious head cheerleader.

"Maybe another time."

Brooke's brow shot even further up to her hairline, her hands seeking out her hips as watched him, a look of an amused sort of fascination painting the pretty features of her face.

"What makes you think you'll get another chance?"

The corner of Lucas's lips cocked up, and he lifted his shoulders in an effortless shrug. By the time he'd pushed himself up, Brooke was already halfway gone. Call it a feeling, but Brooke wasn't done with him just yet.