I may or may not have the next 3 chapters written, oh well. This one's really short but it's really important. Also, chapter 3 will probably be posted right after...and maybe the next few chapters. I JUST REALLY LIKE THIS STORY OKAY
The brunette sat on the empty side of the queen sized bed as Peyton slept on the other side. In her hand, she had the sketch Peyton was working on. She read the sloppy hand-written note on the back over and over while admiring the drawing of her calling her best friend a selfish bitch. She jumped at the sound of Peyton's voice and turned to see her sitting up, staring right at her.
"You're okay," Brooke smiled weakly, "Peyton, I'm sorry."
Peyton rubbed her eyes and swallowed hard, "why...why would you help me?"
"Are you crazy? Why wouldn't I?" She glanced back down at the note, "do you mean all of this?"
The blonde shrugged.
"Is this why you've been so distant?"
She nodded.
"Why don't you get back to sleep. We can talk more later."
Brooke stormed into the Scott household and straight to the broody man himself. He could see the fury in her eyes, and he could hear it in her stomp. He sat up in bed, Lindsey too.
"How dare you, Lucas? Telling Peyton she's not good enough for you? You've got it wrong, you are not even 'okay' enough for her. She doesn't love you, and I know that for a fact."
"Whoa," his deep raspy voice began, "where is all of this coming from, Brooke?"
"Something happened with Peyton last night. Everyone telling her that she's lying when she says she didn't come back for you is eating her alive! You have no right to tell her things like that. And you know what else, Luke? You have no right to even speak to her again!"
"Is she okay?" Lindsey butted in.
"Like you really care." Brooke paused for a moment, realising Lindsey probably did care-she was always the first to ask about Peyton. "She's okay, for now."
Lindsey stood from the bed and directed Brooke outside through the door in Lucas' bedroom.
"Brooke, he really didn't mean it. He was drunk and angry."
"I know...she just really took a lot of things to heart last night..."
Lindsey crossed her arms as the morning breeze rolled through, "she didn't try to-"
"She did."
"But she's okay now?"
Brooke nodded, "I'm scared with her being home alone right now, as bad as that sounds."
"Well you go. I won't tell anyone."
"Thanks, Lindsey."
It was later that evening, and Brooke Davis was drinking a glass of wine in her living room. She was watching TV, but eventually stopped paying attention. She couldn't focus on anything. She needed to talk to Peyton about the note. Believing that she wrote what she wrote because she was intoxicated with pills was hard for Brooke. Peyton knew she was dying and those were her last words.
"Brooke?"
Her thoughts abruptly stopped and she turned to the blonde. All she wore was her The Cure t-shirt and her hair was tangled as it had been before. "What is it?"
"You...you said you wanted to talk later...and it's later."
Brooke set her wine on the coffee table and patted the couch beside her.
Peyton slowly walked over and sat down.
"What did you mean in your note. And don't lie to me, because I know it wasn't the pills." She took part of the blanket that was draped over her legs and laid it onto Peyton's legs.
"You read it, you know what it means."
"I'm just confused, don't I have the right to be? Peyton...are you really in love with me?"