Brooke breathed a sigh of relief as she boarded the plane to take her to California. The ride to the airport was like pure torture as all thoughts remained on Lucas. Lucas Scott; the blonde-haired poet with the piercing, blue eyes. Every time she had looked into those eyes of his she drowned in a vast ocean, which she was incapable of pulling herself out of. There was no one to rescue her from her turmoil.
"Welcome to flight 308, non-stop to Los Angeles, CA." Brooke's thoughts were immediately interrupted at the sound of the airplane intercom announcing her flight's departure. Brooke clung to the side of her seat in first class and sighed. Turning her eyes to the moving black pavement outside her window, Brooke once again became lost in her own thoughts of a vanished romance. She was leaving her beloved home for the summer. There was only one Tree Hill. Lucas had mentioned that to her once. She smiled to herself as thoughts of Lucas entered her mind again.
Brooke felt her stomach do somersaults as the plane ascended into the sky and gripped the arms on her chair in anticipation. She was never was the best flyer and much rather preferred solid land over the vacant skies. Yes, she adored gravity. She looked up at a pretty, blonde flight attendant standing in the aisle demonstrating the proper technique of using an oxygen mask. Brooke glanced around and noticed other passengers ignoring the flight safety instructions because they were either too engrossed with the morning periodical or their headphones were drowning out all signs of reality. With an extreme sense of guilt for shunning all flight safety instruction through her previous years as a flyer, Brooke hurriedly snatched up a copy of the safety pamphlet and pretended to follow along.
"You know, no one reads those things." Brooke heard a raspy voice out of the corner of her right ear and looked at the man sitting next to her in the aisle seat. He was a chubby, older man with a ruddy complexion that reminded her of Santa Claus. All he was missing was the red suit, the beard, and the hat. Atop of his round head sat a sandy, gray toupee that would lend Donald Trump some credibility. Brooke politely smiled at the man. After all, her society parents always taught her to be polite to strangers (you never know how much money they may have), while most other parents taught their children to stay away from strangers. It's a wonder Brooke had not been kidnapped up until this point in her life.
The chubby man raised his eyebrows and laughed at Brooke's sudden attempt to become aware of her safety. Brooke flashed her million dollar watt smile. "I guess it's better to be safe than sorry," she replied. The stranger seemed kind, and Brooke was a conversationalist after all. Her philosophy in life was, "God gave us mouths for a reason. So, you might as well use them while you can." Although she realized that her philosophical phrase could be misinterpreted in so many ways. Curse the foul minds of youthful America.
"You from California?" the man asked.
"Uh, no I am not. Actually, my parents just moved there. I'm visiting them for the summer." Brooke rolled her eyes at the thought of her parents.
"So, you're from North Carolina then?" the man assumed. Brooke nodded her head indicating she was indeed from the humid state. "What town?" he asked.
"I'm from this really small town called Tree Hill. Have you heard of it?"
The chubby man raised his eyebrows in puzzlement. "No, actually I haven't. But why don't you tell me about it," he insisted.
Brooke hesitated as she pictured her home town and smiled. "Well," she started, "Tree Hill is absolutely breathtaking. It's right next to the ocean." Brooke spoke to the man as if she were reading an excerpt from Mark Twain novels describing the luscious greenery that surrounded Tom Sawyer's Missouri home. She continued with her description. "And at night the street lights reflect off the rive,r creating this sort of dazzling plethora of colors from green to blue. It has great restaurants," Brooke paused, "oh, and great people." Brookes hazel eyes sparked as she described Tree Hill to this stranger, and when she realized the intimate content of her words, she immediately began to blush with embarrassment. The man chuckled to her amazement as she looked at her flight mate.
"You know, miss, you sound like a travel brochure." Brooke looked down at her jean-clad legs in mortification. "But," the man continued, "from the way you make this place sound, I can tell you really love it there. Heck, makes me want to visit. I'm sure you can't wait to get back." The man nodded and smiled at Brooke appreciatively and turned his interest back to a magazine article concerning gastric bypass surgery. Brooke sighed and turned her attention to the window as she watched the clouds whiz by. She wondered why she had left Tree Hill in the first place. Well, it's not like she had a choice. Her parents were her guardians and had every say to how Brooke lived her life and who she lived her life with. Unfortunately, her parents wanted Brooke to life her life with them. When she lived in Tree Hill, her parents were gone the majority of the time, but most importantly, the major portion of her life. Her parents had even forgotten her seventeenth birthday! Being the confrontational person Brooke was, she had approached her parents in anger at their lack of memory. Her mother sat her down on Brooke's bed and spoke to Brooke as if she were five again, explaining that her father and herself were out of town and could not help remembering such an inconsequential date as the birth of their only child. However, her mother would hand over her husband's credit card, and Brooke would escape into her own little world of purchasing every piece of merchandise in sight. Shopping was a relief when Brooke could drag her best friend, Peyton, down to the mall and forget for about her parents' inconsiderate ways towards their daughter. Yet, it only provided a temporary relief, and she would come home to an empty house to find her parents gone on another business trip. All the money and clothes in the world weren't going to buy Brooke a pair of loving parents. So, she spent most of her time at Peyton's, and Peyton and her dad had become Brooke's substitute family as she spent holidays and weekends at her best friend's abode. Brooke did not know what she would've down without Peyton. It's amazing she had not swallowed herself up in jealousy and greed, as her parents had done. Peyton was her anchor. Brooke always leaned on her for stability and structure in her life, and Peyton would always come through. Brooke cherished her friendship with her curly, blonde-haired friend.
Suddenly, Brooke had an overwhelming urge to demand the pilot turn the place back around towards Tree Hill. She did want to return, but knew she couldn't. She wished she were on a train instead. At least on a train she could pull the emergency brake and the train would come to a halt. Brooke thought she needed to invest in an airplane emergency brake. Boy, this year was definitely hard on hearts. She had lost her boyfriend to her best friend of all people, yet managed to forgive both Lucas and Peyton and reconcile. Even Nathan and Haley had their share of heartbreak, a huge disappointment to Brooke. Naley, as the couple became fondly known as, was Brooke's inspiration, and she strived to love someone and to have someone love her back the way these two loved one another. They even expressed their love for each other by getting married while barely out of diapers. All couples aspired to Nathan and Haley's legacy, especially Broke. So, imagine her surprise when Haley up and left her hunky husband in order to pursue her career as a singer. If that didn't make matters worse, she had walked out with a new beau on her arm, a cocky rock singer by the name of Chris Keller. Brooke cried for Nathan and understood the pain he felt over his wife's betrayal. Although Brooke had never married, she comprehended the felling of being betrayed by someone you loved and trusted. Lucas. "Oh, here we go again," Brooke thought to herself. This was going to be a very long flight.