Brooke sat there ringing her hands desperately trying to swallow the lump that was lodged in her throat. Her mind racing a mile a minute. The pungent scent of hospital filled her nose with every rising breath. She stretched her aching back and shifted her body trying to find a comfortable position within the waiting rooms plastic chairs. She glanced around the eggshell white room, her blue eyes scanning every crack and corner. Anything to distract her. Anything to keep her from seeing that sight. No matter what she did that kept replaying in her mind. Over and over it she couldn't stop it. No matter where she looked the sight of blood imprinted itself in her mind. The sound of the sirens were still blaring in her mind. Almost drowning out the constant tick tick tick of the clock.

Tap tap tap….tap tap tap….tap tap tap. The lady next to her glared at her in annoyance. Brooke was well aware of her leg jiggling up and down, but she made no efforts to stop this nervous habit. She had more pressing matters on her mind.

Michael.

Oh god Michael. She glanced down at the now scrunched up paper that was being strangled by her well manicured fist. No matter how much she wanted to she couldn't bring herself to read it. She couldn't stop her trembling enough to take the note from her sweaty palms. She couldn't stop her heart from beating fast enough to uncrumple the sheet. She could calm her racing mind down enough to smooth out the edges and read it. She knew what would happen if she did. The tears would start streaming down her puffy face again. The saltiness would sting her eyes again. She would cry so much that she would start dry heaving again. She would break down again.

She drew a shaky breath and wrapped her arms around herself hugging herself tight. Anything to stop the shaking. She gripped the note hard between her fingers molding it into a ball, tracing the sharp curves and edges she had created. Ever so often her fingers would fall upon a particularly hard lump. She didn't have to look to see what it was though. She already knew. She knew because she could smell it. The strong scent of sticky metallic scarlet was traveling with the smell of antibiotics and hand sanitizer. She didn't need to look down to know the paper was splattered with blood.

His blood

Her vision was blurring again. She desperately wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, and let the tears fall. But she couldn't. If she did the memories would come back. More vividly than ever, as if though they were being projected on the back of her eyelids. The warm thick taste of blood filled her mouth as she bit down hard on her already chapped lip. Suppressing her whimpers she dug her nails deep into her sides, hoping the pain would distract her.

She could practically hear him now. She could almost feel his hands hers. Those warm and gentle palms sliding against her own. His larger fingers awkwardly intertwining with her smaller ones. They never seemed to quite fit in between her own, but he always tried anyways. Like a toddler trying to squish a puzzle piece in the wrong spot.

"Come on Brookey don't do that, you'll ruin your nails." Her dry aching throat hitched itself on a sob. God she could even see his smile, she could hear his tone smeared in amusement. She could feel it. Hear it. The sound of her heart tearing at the realization. The thought that she may never see that smile again.

She didn't need to read the note to know what it was about. She had already seen the first word. Scrawled out hastily in his surprisingly neat handwriting.

Jeremy

She laughed bitterly. Of course it was Jeremy's fault. No matter what it always boiled down to Jeremy. Hell if it wasn't for Jeremy they probably would have never even became friends in the first place. She felt a small smile twitch at the corners of her mouth as she thought about that night.

*Flashback*

Brooke sat there the bottle of alcohol dangling loosely between her fingers. The pounding vibrations of the music rocked her back in forth, in sync with the pounding of her head ache. She honestly didn't know what hurt more. The fact that Jeremy had cheated on her or the fact that it was with her best friend. She felt her shoulders begin to heave again. This time not with the shaking of sobs. No...this was different. She lurched forward as the first wave of nausea washed over her.

Oh god she was going to puke.

She stood up as suddenly as she could causing another wave of nausea to smack down on her. Stumbling drunkenly she scanned her surroundings as they danced around her. Her legs wobbled beneath her weight as the cold sweats began.

Bathroom. She needed the bathroom. Gripping the countertop desperate to support herself she drew a shaky breath.

"Are you okay?" Brooke jumped as a cool hand placed itself on her shoulder. She turned around as steadily as she could to find herself face to face with Jenna. Swallowing the saliva that had began to mount in her mouth she nodded meekly.

"Yeah...I just...I need to go to the bathroom. Do you know where it is?" She asked her speech slurring slightly. "Yeah." said Jenna pointing down the hall. "But someone appears to be having period problems in there so I don't know if its open." Brooke squinted as she tried to follow Jenna's finger down the swimming hallway. Just as her eyes landed on the desired destination her stomach contracted causing her to double over. She didn't give a fuck if it was occupied, she needed in NOW.

"Okay thank you." Brooke suddenly began her journey down the crowded hall. Hugging herself she started to weave her way through the thick crowd. She whimpered as the sensation of nausea began to overwhelm her again. Honestly the smell of sweat and weed wasn't really helping.

When she had finally reached the door she was on the brink of tears. Leaning a noddley arm on the door she gave it a soft knock.

"Occupied!" a choked up voice called back. Brookes stomach churned unpleasantly as it started to heave again. "P-please!" She called back. "I-I need to get in I'm...I'm going to vomit!"

Her nails dug into the door the chipped wood and paint working its way between the nail and bed. "Please." She croaked out. "I just need to get in there." She stood there tear welling in her eyes.

She listened closely as the person began to shuffle towards the door. Her heart swelled as she heard the click of the lock. She stumbled slightly losing her balance as the door opened slightly. Her stomach contracted again, but this time she could feel the contents starting to work their way up her throat. Shoving past who ever was in there she made a beeline for the toilet. Her body heaved itself over the porcelain bowl as she started spewing chunks. The wretched sting of stomach acid burned her throat as she clutched the sides of the toilet. She coughed roughly as she felt herself begin to vomit again. She was suddenly hit with a soft blast of cool air. She looked up through her tears to find that her gold locks were no longer framing her face. She tensed slightly as the sensation of a large palm tentatively touched her back, but relaxed as it started rubbing awkward but soothing circles.

She looked up peering through her watery tears. She was met with a pair of soft brown eyes looking down at her through thick rims. She squinted drunkenly at him trying to put blurry faces to a blurry name.

"Are you done?" a hoarse voice asked. Realization dawned on her as it clicked in her mind. Even though she had only heard that voice a handful of times there was only one person this could be. But before she could address him the sound of retching clogged her throat as she leaned back over the bowl. They sat there in silence. The only sound was Brookes sobs and retches as they bounced off the tiles.

She panted heavily the taste of vomit lingering in her mouth. "Sorry." She muttered as she turned to face Michael. "It's fine." He responded releasing her sweaty locks. "Do you think you could you know...help me?" She asked here throat screaming in agony as the words scraped her raw insides. "Yeah sure." He said his voice soft but it held a curtness to it. Though he was clearly uncomfortable he lifted her arm around his shoulder anyway. Her limbs trembled in exhaustion as he helped her rise on her feet. He started to lead her towards the door when she let out a meek "No." Brooke gripped Michael tightly as she nodded her head towards the sink. He stared at her silently, but then began towards her desired direction with a sigh. She lunged forward grabbing the marble countertop and released a breath that she didn't realize she had been holding. She reached over tiredly and turned on the faucet. The coolness of the water soothed her aching throat as she tried to rid the taste of her 'episode'.

The faucet handle screeched as she turned it off, her reflection catching her eye.

The red puffy streaks lined themselves over her creamy complexion. Her aching red lips matched her eyes. Her sweaty bangs clung to her forehead and her makeup was haphazardly smeared across her face. She was a hot mess.

Her already broken face crumpled at the sight, sniffling she slide down to the cold tile floor and buried her head in her knees. She sat there sobbing while Michael watched uncomfortably.

She could feel his eyes on her. He was judging her wasn't he. Judging her because she was a drunken sobbing mess. Her back prickled in discomfort. She could feel his eyes on her, watching every sniffle and shudder. This happened for sometime until Brooke couldn't take it anymore. Her head shot up ready to tell him off, but as soon as she saw him her anger died in her throat.

He was staring at her alright, but he wasn't seeing her. His blood shot eyes were glazed in a sad far off look. Tears slide down his face and dripped off his jaw. Unlike Brookes loud heaving sobs, his were soft and quiet. His quivers and trembles were so small you would have to squint to see them. For the first time in forever, Brooke felt invisible.

Wiping her eyes she reached out and placed a gentle hand on his knee. He jumped under her touch immediately drawing back. Reddened blue met reddened brown. "Are...is...everything okay?" She hiccuped

Michael seemed to tower over her. For the first time ever Brooke drank in the sight of the boy. His unruly dark hair stuck up in strange angles. His clothes hung off him swallowing his frame. His glasses perched themselves on his nose. Which appeared to be the only sharp feature on his round face. She probably would have found him cute if she didn't know the one thing she knew about him. It wasn't news, the whole school knew he was gay. Still he was pretty attractive for a loser.

She watched as he reached up to wipe his tears on his sleeve. His expression of shock twisted to bitterness. "Why do you care?" Brooke winced clearly stung by his harsh cold words. Okay that was rude, but then again he had every right to be. After a brief moment of silence Brooke spoke. "Well why do you?" She asked. "You could have just stood there and watch me….barf….but you helped me. So why do you care?" Michael looked down at the floor, rocking back and forth on his heels. This went on for quite awhile until finally he muttered something. "What was that?" Brooke asked.

"I said I figured if I helped you...you would leave faster." Michael said avoiding her gaze. "Oh." Brooke shifted uncomfortably at this. The unfamiliar feeling of being unwanted came crashing down on her hard. The awkward tension between them grew thicker by the minute. Even though she knew that he had every right to be upset at her, she couldn't help but feel a little crushed. Michael had returned to staring at the very interesting tile. She watched as he squirmed in discomfort and guilt. Before she could stop herself the question on her mind came bursting out.

"Did my friends do this?" Brooke blurted her cheeks immediately heating up in embarrassment. Michaels eyes widened in surprise his head snapping up. "What?" he asked his voice ringing out in surprise. "I said did my friends do this...make you cry I mean." Brooke asked suddenly feeling shy. Michael scoffed at this his eyes rolling. "Kind of." He said his tone cold and bitter. Brooke cocked her head in confusion at this.

"What do you mean kind of?" Michael stared back at her his expression a mixture of anger and sorrow. Brooke bit her lip slightly and pulled her knees closer to her chest. "Well if you don't want to tell me who….do you want to tell me what happened." She asked hoping to somehow break the thick and hard ice between them.

"I don't know! Why don't you ask your boyfriend?!" Michael spat. Michael froze at this. His expression mimicking a child who has been caught up past their bedtime. "I'm sorry." He muttered. "Forget I said anything."

"He's...he's not my boyfriend." Brooke croaked. The words felt thick and chunky in her mouth. "Not anymore." She said her voice small. Brooke forced herself to meet Michaels gaze. His face expression was a mix between confusion, guilt, and something else she couldn't quite name.

"He um….he cheated on me...with Chloe." She winced slightly grimacing at her own words. "Oh...I'm sorry." Michael said his voice soft. "It's okay." Brooke lied. She patted the spot next to her on the floor. The sound of the palm slapping the tile ringing out across the bathroom.

"You can um...You can tell me what happened if you like." Michael looked between her and the spot she was patting. He stood there quietly as a unsure expression fell upon him. He stood there contemplating for what seemed like hours until finally he spoke.

"Alright…" He said as he stiffly made his way over to her. Sliding down the sink smoothly. He glanced back at her suspiciously. Brooke smiled softly in hopes of gaining a small bit of trust. She listened as he began to explain. His hands moving wildly as his words became more heated. Her stomach sunk as Michael's feelings spewed out on the floor. All she could do is nod while he spoke. He finally finished his rant with a big exhale of relief and exhaustion.

"Wow…" Brooke said. She was honestly lost for words. She glanced at Michael as he began to pull on his hoodie nervously. His eyes darting back and forth, he looked as if though he was going to have a meltdown. Brooke reached for him, but then drew back as he flinched under her touch. Suddenly she had a idea. His suspicious gaze followed her as she stood up. Flipping her gross hair over her shoulder she pulled on the most stuck up face she could muster. She looked back at him mischievously and cleared her throat. "My name is Jeremy and I'm the worlds biggest jerk when it comes to relationships." Brooke said making her voice as nasally as possible. She grinned as Michael let out a snort of laughter. "No no no he sounds more like this." Michael said grinning back at her. "My name is Jeremy and I'm a desperate twink. See you have to make it less nasally and more like a twelve year old on helium."

The two teens stared at each other for a good couple of minutes until they both broke out in laughter. The sound of his joy bouncing off the walls warmed her to the very core.

*End of flashback*

Brooke whimpered as the sound of his laughter echoed against her hollow insides. In the end he had agreed to take her home so she didn't have to ride with Chloe. They stopped at Denny's (on account of Brooke's empty stomach) and spent the rest of the night mocking Jeremy, and stuffing themselves with pancakes. After awhile she conked out in his car, and he carried her to his couch. He had explained later that he didn't know where she lived and wasn't going to leave her there.

Brooke ran her fingers through her hair and exhaled shakily. Jesus thinking about this hurt more than thinking about…

Brooke was suddenly pulled out of her thoughts when a voice rang out.

"Brooke!"

Her blood ran cold. She'd recognize that voice anywhere. Her stomach sunk as she spotted him. She watched blankly as he moved towards her. His face was pale and shaken. She didn't know what angered her more. The fact that he was here or the fact that he had the fucking nerve to be concerned.

After all this was his fault. She stood up as his lean frame approached hers. She was looked down at Michael's note shaking in her hands. Why was he here? What did he want? Wasn't he aware he already had caused enough?

"Jeremy." She murmured in disbelief. She was aware her voice was quivering. She was aware her shoulders were shaking. She was aware the her chest was heaving. He didn't have the right. He didn't have the right to be here. He caused all this. He caused Micheal to...to.. to!

"Brooke…" Jeremy's concerned tone snapped Brooke out of her trance. Hate began to course through her mixing itself deep within her anger. Gritting her teeth she forced herself to look at him. She almost laughed as she watched his expression change when her face revealed itself from the curtains of her blonde strands. His face changed from concern to fear as her angry gaze fell upon him.

"Congratulations."