Okay, soooo, long time no see, especially since I'd made it a priority to finish this story since I had it all mapped out and everything. What can I say? Huge apologies in getting this out. I can tell you now that the next update shouldn't be far away. I had such a lot of disruption when it came to getting this chapter down and also a lot of doubts about it. But, without further delay, here it is.

Thank you to Gracie, who calmed my thoughts with this chapter. You're awesome and help me out so much. And major thank you to all of you that reviewed/ PMed me about the first chapter/ if I was continuing (I am, hehe), they all made me smile and are greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer Sadly, I don't own a thing. If I did, well, then there really would be madness in Tree Hill P.

Our Colliding Worlds

Brooke's POV.

'Similarities create friendship's while differences hold them together.'

"Knock, knock." The door is opened, I'm far too impatient to wait for a reply, always have been. I never did follow the rules anyway, knocking before entering Lucas Scott's home is no exception. Well, I say Lucas', but in all honesty, the tingly, warm, fuzzy vibe I get whenever stepping foot in this place, it could easily be my home. On many occasions I find myself calling it that. It sounds like something out of those cheesy 1950's movies, in fact, depending on how old the house is, it could well be one of those used on set of Pleasantville.

The white picket fence, petunias lining the lawn, the smell of freshly baked cookies as I wipe my feet on the ever-welcoming 'welcome' mat. And of course, Karen Roe, no home of mine is complete without this woman busying herself over her latest project, whether it be trying a new recipe, or scrap booking Lucas' early years.

"Hey Brooke, it's nice to see you." Karen greeted, never once lifting her head from the table, from concentrating, believe it or not on scrap booking. And with the various pictures of Lucas with his once chubby cheeks strewn across the table, it didn't take many guesses to work out what her latest creation was based on.

As she finishes putting the finishing touches onto a page, she looks up and smiles. A true mothers smile, one filled with pride and joy. Not so much for her talented work, placed out delicately across the page, but more for the boy grinning back at her, with half of his teeth missing, happy as ever. Only upon looking over to the small, dimpled girl sat beside him do I realize that Lucas isn't her only point of concentration upon the page.

"And what do we have here?" Pulling up one of the chairs, I sit beside her. I'm in no rush to get studying and time with good ol' Mama Roe is something I've become accustomed to liking, no, loving over the years. She chuckles every time I call her that, I don't think she knows just how much her nickname actually signifies in the relationship between her and myself.

"Well, these would be my two favourite teenagers in the whole of Tree Hill." She smiles at me, but it falters slightly when she sees me curve my bottom lip slightly. She, along with Lucas, is also powerless over my mastered pout.

"Only Tree Hill? This has gotta be one of the smallest Towns on the map, Karen." She seems at a slight loss over what to say; eventually I crack, letting her know that I'm merely teasing. She never minds though, it always astonishes me how she can go from being the cool, hip almost older sister figure, to strict, bitch out mom. And yes, you can believe me on that one, next time Lucas and I even consider putting our fake id's to use, he's walking through his front door alone.

"I remember that day." Pausing, I look down at the pictures fixed onto the page to check that it was in fact the day I remember all too well. For happier reasons, I might add. I don't think a frown sunk into my face once that day, it's impossible when you're surrounded by the people you love the most.

"It must've been Lucas' ninth birthday."

"Tenth," Karen corrects, smiling. Many happy grins stare out from the page. The most distinctive two being Lucas' and my own. Although the photo is a close-up I can remember me having my arm loosely pulling him into the camera's view. He always was shy and although he's definitely comfortable around his closest friends, a part of me wishes that on occasion he would just let himself go entirely.

"Hey Mom, I was just about to give the pizza place a call if you were wanting to order anything?" Lucas calls from the hallway, he stops upon entering the kitchen and seeing me and I can feel a smile creep to my face, even though a long session of brutal studying is about to follow shortly after eating dinner.

"Hey Brooke, what are you doing here on a Friday night?" Lucas knows full well what I'm doing here, still he'd never miss an opportunity to slip in some smartass remark in the adorable way that he does. A gleam to his eyes and a bright grin plastered to his face.

"Oh, nothing, I just came here to remind you that I want extra anchovies on my pizza." I smile, oh so innocently and in return get a puppy dog expression from Lucas. I know he's not going to order anchovies on the pizza, truth is, I'm not exactly keen on them either and Lucas too knows this. Yet it's all too comfortable just to play along, even though we both really know the truth, still a little harmless banter never hurt anyone.

After Lucas has placed his order at the local dial-a-pizza, he reappears in the doorway and tilts his head sideward, the time has come…. math. Someone kill me now.

"Ugh, I guess that's my cue to go study. I'll catch you later Karen"

"Just give me a shout if you need anything." She adds as I rise from my seat.

" So…. you missed the game tonight." It's been silent for way too long, I hate silence at the best of times, but silence whilst studying…silence whilst studying math…well, it shouldn't be allowed to happen.

"I know, I had some work to do."

Again. Silence.

He refuses to even lift his head from the textbook. Now he's either studying hard for himself, or he's acting that way so that I follow his lead. Possibly both. Either way, I know I'm done with studying for the night. Half an hour and I've entered a mental shut down.

"Meaning you missed me cheer…."

He looks up and shuts his book. Finally, he senses that any attempts of trying to teach me are failing.

"I know and I'm sorry. Next week, I'll be there." He smiles. I can live without Lucas watching me from the bleachers, but it's nice to know that somebody's there, for you and you alone. Even if it is only your best friend.

I know why he often doesn't come. To tell the truth, it's probably one of the only things we choose to avoid talking about, since we both hate the awkwardness that seems to arise every time it's mentioned.

Lucas and I, we've always been different. I mean, don't get me wrong, we've never let it come between us, as a matter of fact, I enjoy the fact that we're different, lead different lives. And this difference has never really been a problem up until recent years when we started high school. But now, it's there and I can't help but feel that it's always looming.

I consider Lucas to be, this adorable, geeky, bookworm. And he knows I think this, but we laugh and nothing more is said. After all, I never have once said that I didn't like the adorable geeky, bookworm, for the simple reason that it isn't true. He's my best friend.

He's best friends with the rich, popular, head cheerleader. The typical stereotype that every other girl aspires to be. But for me, most days, I wish anything other than to be this person. I'm not going to lie; my parents do have a fair few dollars in the bank. I get more than one offer when it comes to the school dance. And the blue 'r' painted on my cheek every game night symbolises my captaincy of the ravens cheer squad.

This in turn brings other things. I'm to attend every party being thrown, unless I have a valid excuse, such as being on my deathbed. I'm to sit with the other cheerleaders and basketball players at lunch. And I'm to maintain wearing the latest designer trends, each and every single day.

That's why I thank god for Lucas. He keeps me grounded and sane in a way that no other can. He reminds me of whom I really am. Brooke Davis, the girl who on Sunday mornings makes no attempt to do anything other than get changed into her sweats and watch TV all day. The girl who enjoys nothing more than spaghetti nights with Lucas, Karen and Keith on Thursday. Just the regular Brooke, no different to anyone else.

So, this difference can be a saint in its own way. But as I said, it can often drive a small wedge between our friendship. Yes, although I am 'regular' Brooke in my own time, I also have to maintain my other status. It's just the way things are. This frustrates both of us at times. Lucas, because he can't comprehend why I'd ever need to do such a thing. And me, because no matter how many times I explain to him, that that person is also who I am, he just doesn't seem to take it in.

So, we try to filter our lives out, in a way that makes it possible to have this unbelievably complicated, yet amazing bond.

Yet again, it's been silent for too long, and I realize it's my cue to say something.

"Sure, and maybe you could come to the party with me after?" We lock eyes, I'm not stepping on dangerous ground exactly, but it's that 'no enter' zone and my feet are just touching the borders.

"I think I might have an early shift the next morning at the café, but I'll come to the game though." He reassures me nodding. Liar. Yes, I get and accept that this is uncomfortable ground for the both of us, but if he was planning on coming up with an excuse, he could at least have figured a better one than that. He knows that I help Karen draw up the shift rota each fortnight. I purposely do it so that I know and remember the times when Lucas is free.

"Yeah, fine." Still, I'd never say this to him. I value him too much, even if our worlds do sometimes collide.

"I'll just hang with Rachel."

"Sounds good." He half nods, his tone is somewhat bitter, but in the kindest way possible. I know he's dying to say something, but he can sense that I'm in no mood for one of 'those' talks tonight.

The talks where he'll list why I should just be myself and not give a damn about what anyone else thinks.

The talks where I'll say that they're my friends and he's my best friend, just to affirm where we stand.

The talks where we'll ask each other, what it is that we see that's so special in one another. The special something that keeps our friendship so strong and close to us.

Those talks, the thick and heavy talks. Ones that provide this unbearable tension and break down all walls.

My reason for avoiding the whole subject- I've never liked tension, awkwardness, or bearing all.

And right now, I feel as though we're looming on the edge of all of the above.

"Listen, I hope you don't mind, but I kind of promised a friend that I'd stop by hers tonight." I'm already shutting up my books, prepared to make a bolt for the door. I love Lucas, I really do. But I simply can't sit through another one of those talks.

"Oh, um, are you sure you can't stay for the movie?" He's got that glint in his eye where I can tell he's sorry for the uncomfortable situation we've ended up putting ourselves in. I know he's sorry and I've already forgiven him, not that I could ever hold a grudge against puppy dog eyes that cute, anyway. Still, it's probably better for both of us to wind down elsewhere.

"Rain check?" we could watch a movie, or hell even study, any old time.

"I'll hold you to that." His fingers have glided through my own and there's a slight pressure on my hand where he's gently squeezing. Sealing the deal that we will in fact catch up with a movie some other time. But also silently apologizing. An exchange of smiles lets us know that everything between one another is okay, no grudges have been held, and nothing has been tainted. We're simply the best of buds, just like always.

Okay, so I wasn't kidding when I said that I had to meet a friend. I did have to, I've got some serious letting off steam and whining to do, so lets not get too judgmental on the whole 'bailing on Lucas' scenario, if you can call it that. Besides, I'm here for Lucas' and my own sakes. God knows where that conversation could've gone had I have stayed, they've been happening more frequent as of late. The yelling, the constant pleading, the apologies. I, along with Lucas, I'm guessing, was not in the mood for another bitch out tonight.

As a result of that I'm here, standing right outside the door of the house where the one person I can relate to the most, resides.

"Hey bitch" she greets from lying on her bed, reading what I expect to be the latest fashion magazine out on the shelf.

It's a love, hate relationship really.

"Hey, how are you on this fine, Friday evening?"

She folds away her magazine and carelessly tosses it to the side, instantly sitting up to attention.

"Okay, so you did not come here, on a Friday night I might add to see how I'm doing. What's up? I know that you're not the 'stay at home and bake cookies on a Friday night' type. Why aren't you out partying?"

"I had a study session with Lucas. Although, I'd say that my study session with Lucas, somehow morphed into 'awkward, non-talking' time with Lucas." I exaggerate the last part, but if there's one person who knows all of my thoughts and feelings when it comes to him, it's Rachel. The things I can't tell to Luke, I tell to her. Honestly, I'm not sure why. I trust her, yet there are days I could strangle her. She gives good advice, yet other days she'll be the most spiteful person I know.

And the most annoying thing of all…..she's exactly like me.

"Oh, I see. What's rocking your guys happy, little boat this time?"

I shrug, that should imply enough. Truth be told, I'm not really sure. All I know is that we've repeatedly been having the same tiring discussions and awkward tensions for the past couple of years now. Rachel only arrived the September just gone, so she's had some catching up to do. One night and a very drunken Brooke soon had me slurring all of my problems to the redhead, whether she wanted to hear them or not. Now I guess she's just kind of stuck with the problem of listening to me bitch and complain. It's become a ritual, and if the ritual follows, I'm guessing there's no need to explain what's gone on between Lucas and myself, word for word. She'll know. It's like this super power or something. She can just read people and make a problem sound like nothing at all.

I only wish that was one of the traits we shared.

"So basically that translates as the pair of you both behaving like stubborn jackasses and the pair of you both deciding to avoid the subject once more and me having to listen to you moping about how you have the worst problems in the world…again."

I squint my eyes and tilt my head in annoyance. That Rachel, she's such a caring one.

"You know…I'm so glad I confide my problems in you. Suddenly I don't feel so down anymore." A sarcastic yet oh so bitchy smile lets her know I'm in no mood to kid.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'll put my nice face on. Now…what exactly happened between you and Lucas?"

"That's the thing. Nothing happened, we didn't have an argument or blow off at each other or anything. We just got ourselves into one of those awkward conversations where we came to realise that we're so different. Really, I don't see it as a problem and neither does he most of the time. But, I don't know, I guess, I think sometimes he feels as though I'm keeping him on hold and allow other things to take priority."

Rachel nods her head and is about to add in her own piece. But now I've started, I've suddenly found that I have a lot more to say about the situation than I thought.

"I mean, why shouldn't some things take priority? It's not like he's my entire life and that my whole world revolves around him? Why can't he make some sacrifices to make me happy? Ugh, and the whole awkward, silence thing that rises every time we come even remotely close to discussing the situation is getting old. Right now I just…. I just want him to understand, you know? I just want to be able to tell him all this, have him say his piece, then we can work it out and move on. I feel like I'm constantly walking around on egg shells and I mean, I shouldn't have to do that, Rach, right? He's my best friend."

Rachel sat for a few moments, clearly giving me time to breathe and calm down from my ramble.

"Okay…first off, are we calm again." She asks

"Just barely."

"Good. And secondly, I have no idea what is going on in either yours or Lucas' heads. However, you clearly have some…thoughts…on the situation. You should tell Lucas how you're feeling. I mean if you guys are best friends, you'll work this out."

"You're right." I nod. "You're absolutely right, I should just talk to him. It's just it's Lucas, you know? I care and worry about what he thinks and how he's feeling. I just want things to go back to normal."

"Which are how exactly?"

I shrug, "Truth be told, I can't even remember. It's been so long since we've just been ourselves, let loose, had fun. Without the constant 'should I say this?', 'Do I avoid this topic?' issues running through my mind. I just…I wanna be seven years old again."

Okay, and in that instant, I could tell that Rachel had really thought I'd lost it. She was nodding along in a way to say 'uh huh, I totally understand', that is, right up until my last sentence.

"Okay, come again?' she asks.

Of course she has no idea what I'm on about. How could anybody besides Lucas and myself?

It was a random thought, yet somehow now, it's been stuck in my head, like an old black and white movie, constantly being played back, over and over.

I should explain…

"When I was seven years old, my parents left me at home for Christmas for the first time. My Dad had some meeting in Paris, or something, I don't know. My Mom followed, promising me that I'd be fine and that we'd just celebrate Christmas the following week, when they got back. I don't remember being upset at all, especially since my dad had given me one of my presents early. It was this little bicycle, pink, of course, complete with tassels on the handlebars and a little bell. My parents knew that I'd wanted one for the longest time. I guess it was their way of making it up to me. Anyway, the next day, I remember Lucas inviting me over, since Karen had bought him a bike too. Little did I know he'd totally cheated because his Uncle Keith had spent the entire Christmas afternoon teaching him how to ride."

I subconsciously let out a laugh, smiling as I tell the story. Meanwhile, Rachel is smiling too, waiting for me to continue.

"So he's cycling up and down the sidewalk, like it's the easiest thing in the world. And anything Lucas could do, I of course could do better….or so I thought. Much to my dismay , I fell, scraped my knee, tears were coming out of my eyes as though the Mississippi's suffering from a drought. I remember screaming for my Mom, so loud. Lucas came sprinting over and he held me. I swear Rach, he held me for the longest time, just to do anything to stop me from crying."

"That sounds…it sounds really nice." She said as I grew quieter, reminiscing in the moment.

"Lucas kissed me on the nose, telling me my parents would be back soon. Just doing anything he could to make me feel better. Then Karen came out and cleared up my knees and Keith started teaching me how to ride. I don't think Lucas and me separated until my parents arrived back. He's….he's my best friend." I can't help but have this huge grin spread across my face as I finish.

For me it's just one of those perfect 'shalalala' moments in my life. I felt more at home then than I ever have done at my parents. I truly learnt the meaning of family.

It's something I'll never forget.

I just want times like that back again.

"How is it you guys have never dated again?" Rachel breaks my trail of thought.

"What? We were seven."

"I know that, not then, but you know, recent years. It's just; you guys care about each other so much. Have you honestly never thought about seeing if there was anything more to your friendship? Did you ever think that there could be a hidden reason behind all of this built up tension between the two of you?"

"Okay, you seriously need to lay off the Cosmo. And honestly, I've never really thought about taking anything further. Sure, Luke is good looking, caring, sweet, friendly…"

"Uh huh." She replied, rolling her eyes sarcastically.

"It's just not us. We're Brooke and Lucas, best buds. Not Brooke and Lucas, romantic loves."

End of story.

T.B.C

Okayyyyy, sooo, problems I had when writing this was that I wasn't sure whether I differentiated between my 'Lucas' chapter and my 'Brooke' chapter. Obviously they're two completely different characters, so I wanted to make sure that there was a definite difference when reading. I hope I managed to do that. Leave your thoughts in a review, if you would. )

Ellie