Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. They belong to One Tree Hill/The CW. All song lyrics and titles belong to their respective owners.

A/N: Thank you for the reviews, everyone! I'm happy to see you are enjoying things so far. I hope that continues!

Chapter Three: I'll Give You Strength to Pull Through

Nothing bad had ever really happened to Ripley Sinclair. Well unless you counted how utterly horrible people were to her after she announced that she was gay. Though she didn't exactly announce it; someone asked and instead of lying or waving them off she'd said yes. One little world and the floodgates to the shit storm had opened. For months she was talked about and harassed but compared to some of thing terrible things that people go through getting bullied and called a dyke wasn't the end of the world.

So she had a lot of sympathy for Peyton and the fact that she'd been brutally attacked by some guy she'd let into her life who'd posed as her long lost brother. If it hadn't been for Lucas, Psycho Derek as he was now being called would have raped her and done who knows what else. Peyton hadn't been in school since the incident but no one blamed her. Not to mention the gossip mill was in full force, everyone had an opinion on the subject a week later. It sucked even more because this Derek was now missing and the cops didn't have any leads.

Ripley could only guess as to what Peyton might be going through. She'd given Lucas a basket of muffins and things from her mother to take to Peyton and he'd thanked her for the gesture. She could remember sitting outside of her mother's shop and watching Lucas help his mom at her café, but never really interacting with him. By then she'd became friends with Glenda and the guys and it seemed silly to reach out to anyone else.

Running a hand through her long blonde locks, she shifted in her chair and stared at the computer in front of her. Absently she scrolled and surveyed all of the t-shirts on the screen, adding a few to her cart. She was supposed to be working on a history project but shopping online was a lot more fun. Plus she needed some new shirts with obscure phrases and dead rock stars. And maybe this cute Hello Kitty one but who didn't love Hello Kitty?

She didn't realize that someone was behind her until soft hair brushed her cheek and she turned her head slightly to find Rachel peering over her shoulder, so close that she could smell her perfume and see the freckles on her neck. She didn't know what to make of their…"relationship" to be honest. Rachel's Denali was fixed but she still insisted that Ripley pick her up and take her home. She'd pop up at her locker all smiles or attempt to send her notes during their classes together. But other than that they didn't really interact. Not that it stopped people dropping whatever they were doing to stare.

It was strange but Eric and Jeremy thought it was awesome. They also thought she was banging Rachel like a bongo drum even though she swore on her life that she wasn't. It made her wonder what other people thought and why a man eater like Rachel would be okay with it.

"You should get the red one. I think you'd look nice in red." Rachel smiled and pulled up a chair. "Who is Blue Oyster Cult anyway?"

Ripley tilted her head to the side. "They're a band, kinda big in the seventies."

"Cool." She dug into her pocket and pulled out a tube of pale pink sparkly gloss. "Here I got this from you."

Ripley took it. "Thanks. What's the occasion?"

The redhead shrugged. "Just…a thank you for how you've been helping me out. I would have gotten you something else but I didn't know you like shirts with odd pictures on them."

The blonde checked out and typed in her mother's credit card number. "You didn't have to get me anything."

Rachel nodded. "I know but I wanted to. And when I want something I usually get it." She smiled and brushed cottony white lint off the other girl's shirt.

One of the three guys over near the card index who were unabashedly staring whistled and Rachel smirked and leaned back in her chair, smoothing her fingers along the seam of her jeans. She crossed her legs and pulled at her necklace, slipping the tiny pendant into her mouth. Ripley looked from her to the guys and back again, and suddenly she understood what was going on.

Making sure that her personal information hadn't been stored on the computer, she logged out and stood. "I gotta go."

"What's wrong?" Rachel inquired, noting the change in her demeanor.

Slicking her tongue across her bottom lip, she hefted her bag onto her shoulder. "I'm not—I am what I am. I mean I can't change it because it's how I was born and I've accepted it. I'm not here to be a spectacle for other people or to be used as jerk off material for guys."

"What are you talking about?" Rachel asked slowly.

Ripley pointed to the guys. "You like them thinking we're…I don't know…something."

The redhead tongued her top lip. "Is that wrong?"

"I guess not. People have a right to think whatever they want, but I don't have to give them fodder for their fantasies either."

"Who cares if they fantasize a little?" Rachel grinned. "It just makes us even hotter to them."

"I don't want to be hot to them. I'm gay. I have no interest in boys what so ever." Shaking her head, she headed for the door and left the room.

One of the disadvantages to being so mellow about a lot of things was getting seriously angry at others. Ripley could hold a grudge for years if she felt so inclined, and when she got mad her first impulse was to hit something. A wall or a pillow, anything to take some of the emotion out of her body and put it into something else. Karate was supposed to settle her but it just made her able to hit harder where it would hurt more. Though she didn't use violence to solve her problems. She'd never been in a fight before in her entire life but she was sure she could take care of herself. Still sometimes slamming her first into a mirror sounded like a good idea.

She was almost at the art room when a hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her to a stop. She turned and arched a brow. "What?"

Rachel blinked. "I—I'm sorry. I just wanted to say that I was sorry." Pause. "I didn't mean to use you or whatever. I wasn't using you; it's not like I can control what anyone else thinks."

The blonde scoffed. "But that was the only reason you were hanging out with me, right? For the attention?"

Busted, Rachel sighed. "I don't see what the big deal is. So a few guys thought we were hooking up? We knew the truth. You knew you didn't have a chance with me."

Ripley's eyes stretched as the other girl registered what she'd said. "I think you should find another ride home." Without saying anything else, she walked into the art room and closed the door behind her.

Judging a book by its' cover was wrong but sometimes you got exactly what you expected.


Some people were just so freaken sensitive and Rachel didn't understand it. People talked about her and called her names but she didn't care. She had thick skin from being fat and ridiculed for years. And it wasn't like she'd killed Ripley's dog or whatever. The blonde was just being stupid and overly touchy. Something she would have to get over if she planned to make it in the real world.

But Rachel couldn't think about her silly little issues because she was in too big of a good mood. Maxim had arrived in the mail and she was on the cover as the hometown hottie! Out of all of the other girls she'd been chosen and she looked amazing! The shots they'd used were gorgeous and so totally sexy. Brooke had been quite happy for her earlier when she'd ditched school to go and show her the magazine. Anyone else would have probably been jealous.

As they should be.

Giving an annoyed sigh, she leaned against the door frame of her English class and watched as Mr. Chavez erased the blackboard. She'd totally rained on her parade at the beginning of class just because she was enjoying herself and the attention that her magazine spread had gotten her. Boys were actually asking for autographs like she was a celebrity or something! And then he'd walked in and snatched all copies of the mag away and accused her of making a "spectacle" of herself. Whatever; it wasn't her fault that she was so damned sexy.

Although in hindsight her jab at him about liking high school girls did hit below the belt but he'd made her angry. And to be honest she didn't like the fact that he was sneaking around with Brooke. They could both get into some serious trouble and Brooke had too much going on for that to happen. But she was going to make amends if that is what it took and hopefully get her Maxim back. She was sure there were people who hadn't seen it yet.

Grinning at those thoughts, she slipped into the classroom and knocked on the door. The dark haired and slightly handsome Mr. Nick Chavez turned to look at her. "I'd say nice spread, but that's probably inappropriate for a teacher."

Twitch. "Bet you wouldn't have a problem saying it to Brooke. Aren't you her teacher, too?"

He rolled his eyes and stepped closer. "I get it. You like to be the center of attention, get a rise out of people." He folded his arms over his chest. "It's the hallmark of insecurity."

She laughed. "Wow. You're an underpaid high school teacher sleeping with a student, and I'm insecure? Yeah, okay."

Nick walked around his desk to stand in front of her. "You seem to be in the driver's seat, Miss. Gattina. So, what do you want?"

She smirked and closed the door. "Just one thing. I think we should close the door for this." She then faced him. "Brooke is my friend and I care about her a lot. I don't know if you're really into her or just the thrill of dating a student, but I hope it's not the latter."

He tilted his head to the side. "So you want me to prove to you that I want Brooke? I'm surprised. I thought you would be blackmailing me for better grades or something."

Rachel shrugged. "I'm not a dummy, Mr. Chavez. Contrary to what people might say about me."

"I didn't say that." He motioned to her magazine. "I read it and you had some pretty interesting things to say. Obviously you're a very bright girl…if a little misguided."

She snorted but let the comment go. "Anyway just, don't hurt Brooke. She deserves to be happy. Okay?"

Nick rubbed his chin and was suddenly in her space, pressing her back into the wooden door. "Whatever you say." His hands fell to her sides and squeezed before trailing lower, dipping underneath the soft material of her cheerleading skirt. "How about we make each other happy though, right now?"

"What? Ew, no" Frowning, she pushed at his chest but he wouldn't budge. "Get away from me."

"C'mon you know this is why you really closed the door." Smiling, he lowered his face to her neck and kissed along the smooth skin. The fingers on his left hand shifted upward, quickly pushing her panties to the side so that he could rub silky skin.

Rachel jerked and shoved at him harder. "Get off me!"

"Ooh so you like it rough, I can get down with that." He winked and pinned her to the door with his weight, his thumb dangerously close to slipping inside of her. "Stop being such a little tease."

A sharp pain flared to life inside of her brain just as a white light flashed behind her eyes. "You know you want this. Stop being such a stupid fucken tease already!"

The memory hit her violently and she yelled, slamming her knee up into Nick's groin. He yelped in pain but released her, and she bolted out of the classroom before he could catch his breath. She ran down the hall and outside into the quad, shoveling large quantities of air into her lungs before she risked passing out. Voices taunted her in her mind and ghostly touches crawled up the inside of her legs but she did her best for make it all go away. There were people around and she couldn't afford to have a nervous breakdown where they could see. Where they could point and laugh at the spoiled rich girl and her problems. But she knew she wouldn't be forgetting what had just happened for a long time. The feeling his hands, his fingers nearly enough to make her go back inside and beat him to death.

She'd only closed the door to talk so that no other teachers would hear. Fuck, it was a stupid thing to do. He was right—she'd sent him mixed signals and he'd taken them as the good ahead. Stupid, I'm so stupid. Still he was with Brooke which meant other girls were off limits!

"Brooke." She said aloud. "I have to tell Brooke."

Steeling herself, she dug her phone out of her jacket and called a taxi.

The ride to the T.A.R.T. fashion show where Brooke was showing her designs was the longest of her life but she felt like she was doing the right thing. What kinda friend would she be to let Brooke continue dating such an asshole? Besides after all the crap she'd put the other girl through, she had to be honest. She just had to.

She paid the cabbie once they reached their destination and got out, ducking into the converted warehouse through a side door. It was a bit quieter inside but most of the models and attendees were still milling around.

Fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist, she spotted Brooke. "Hey. How's it going?"

Brooke was practically beaming. "Amazing! Buyers have been coming up to me all day, saying they want my line in their stores. And I'm so psyched, I'd pass out, but I have another show in an hour." She fell down onto a chair to rest her feet before she noticed her friend's dour expression. "What's the matter?"

Rachel swallowed her and joined her, silently talking herself up. She could do this. "I wish my timing was better on this, but um, there's something you need to know about Nick."

Brooke arched a brow. "What?"

Say it. Tell her. "Well, he kept me after school today and when we were alone, he hit on me." And that was putting it totally lightly. "You can't see him anymore, Brooke. He's a bad guy. Do you understand that?" I hope you do. Please don't make me say what he did. Tried to do.

The brunette inhaled slowly before she said, "I understand that you don't have a boyfriend right now, and maybe you're feeling a little jealous. It's normal, but…"

And just like that Rachel felt her chest clench. "All right. You don't believe me." Why should she? He said that no one would because of what you are. What I am. I shouldn't be surprised that he was right. But I thought Brooke was different. "You know what? Never mind. See you later."

Without waiting for a reply, she got up and left. There was nothing left to say. She was stupid to tell anyone. She should have just kept her mouth shut—not like it was anything she hadn't done before.

Though just because Brooke didn't take her seriously didn't mean Principal Turner would react the same way.


Jeffery Sinclair was a huge basketball fan and he took his love of the Ravens just as seriously as anyone else in the small town. While Ripley didn't care much for sports of any kind, she attended the games with her father because it was important to him and she enjoyed spending time with him. Also she could fake interest a lot better than her sister.

Currently Tree Hill was playing against Bear Creek in the state semi-finals and her father was already upset the Ravens weren't winning by a higher margin. What's wrong with Nathan Scott tonight? He'd grumbled from their place in the bleachers. Usually he's on fire but tonight his playing sucks. His dismay was shifted however whenever "Skills" Taylor would make an impossible shot or toss to Lucas for an amazing three pointer. He'd already pointed out how usually the triple threat of the Scott brothers and Taylor would have the Ravens' ahead in the double digits by now.

And he was right, not that Ripley really wanted to engage in a debate with him. He could talk all night about sports and she had a feeling if the Ravens lost, he would do just that.

Snickering to herself, she bit into her giant hot dog and held a napkin under it encase any of the chilli decided to leak off. She hummed at the taste and chewed, listening as the crowd cheered when someone made a shot.

"Admit it; you only came with me for the food."

Ripley swallowed her mouthful and grinned at her father. He was a handsome, gruff looking man with dark brown hair and a strong stature. She could remember being five years old and him coming in from work, scooping her up into his arms and making her feel like one of the little people from the Wizard of Oz. "The food is an extra incentive, yes. But I really come for the cheerleaders."

He laughed and elbowed her in the side. "Oh shush." He took a sip from his cup. "Are you still going with me to the State Championships if we make it? Which we better…"

She smiled slowly. "Of course. Contrary to what I say I like hanging out with you at these things. Reminds me of when you used to take me to Sky's baseball games when I was younger."

He nodded at the memory. "Seems like just yesterday you were all small and getting into everything. Now Sky is married and you'll be graduating soon. Your mother and I are getting so old."

She took another bite of her hot dog. "Least you don't look it. And hey, now you have grand kids to look forward to."

"True." He sighed, rubbing his palms on his jean clad knees. "Figured out how you're gonna swing that?"

Ripley snorted. "I'm gay not stupid. I know how it works."

Her father chuckled and ruffled her hair. "Oh! The annual basketball awards banquet is coming up really soon and I was invited. Feel free to buy a new dress to offset the boredom of going with me."

She giggled and finished her food, sipping from her own drink. "Will do. Are you gonna follow basketball next year?"

He shrugged. "If the team is good enough I might. Also depends on who the coach is." He rubbed his hands together and glanced at her. "Thought anymore about college yet?"

She made a face. "Not really. But if you guys really want me to go then I will."

"We're not gonna force you."

"No I know that. I just mean if you'd rather I had some kinda degree under my belt I don't mind getting one. I could be an art major or something."

Sighing fondly, he kissed her temple. "Why are you such an easy going kid? You're a teenager. Shouldn't you be sneaking out of the house or sneaking girls into the house?"

Ripley smiled and let her head rest on his shoulder. "Why do either when I'm sure I'll get permission if I ask?"

Mr. Sinclair sat up straighter as people started meandering back into the gym; the time out nearly over. "You think we'd give you permission to have some girl in your room with the door closed? You know Meadow would go on and on about the injustice of it all."

That she would. "True but if it's just Patrick she wants in there you have nothing to worry about. He's a Clean Teen. In fact I have a better chance of knocking someone up than he does."

Her father laughed loudly and a few people glanced back. Ripley smirked; he did have a rather infectious laugh. Yawning lowly, she watched the two teams practice on their respective sides of the court before her eyes drifted to the cheerleaders. Haley was missing from her usual spot as was Peyton though naturally she probably didn't feel like being around crowds after what she'd been through.

Gathering up their combined trash, she hurried down to a large trash can and dumped the wrappers. She waved to Toby where he sat in the bleachers and turned to see Rachel and Brooke in a heated conversation. Her brows drew together and she snorted inwardly, pretty sure that whatever Brooke was angry about Rachel probably deserved it. She hadn't told her friends about what the redhead had done but it still kinda irked. Sure she'd been used before but not as a prop in someone else's odd little play. But it was probably her own fault for indulging in her curiosity with the other girl anyway. She should have just kept on driving that day of the storm.


"The Ravens have won by nine and they're headed for the State Championship, baby!"

Maybe it was Brooke yelling at her that had one it. Maybe hearing her friend—her only friend—call her a slutty liar who lies had ignited a spark inside of her head that brought the careful wall she'd erupted tumbling down. Rachel wasn't exactly sure but the end result was her hiding in a bathroom stall trying to catch her breath, her heart thudding so loudly in her ears that she was sure it would never stop. She couldn't breathe! She couldn't get a grip! She couldn't…she just couldn't!

Curled up on the cold tile of the dusty bathroom floor, she heaved as if having an asthma attack and dug her nails into her legs so hard she made crescent shaped cuts. Her entire body was trembling, her eyes threatening to pour tears that she was just barely holding at bay. She could hear the celebration outside in the gym but she didn't care. The only thing she could focus on was the pain and her own worthless problems.

If Brooke stopped caring about her, she'd have no one. Yeah Mouth was around but only because he wanted what all guys wanted from her. Sure he came on sweet but he was still a guy. He still wanted to fuck her; he was just going about it in a nice way. At her other schools she'd been the hottest girl without a care in the world and without someone to confide in. But here it was different. She could—she could tell Brooke things. She didn't but she knew that she could and that meant something.

Yes she'd been a bitch in the beginning but it was different now. She wouldn't hurt Brooke for anything in the world. She loved her. Brooke was the only person who saw something in her besides the persona she tried so hard to convey. It hurt to think about going back to shallow conversations and a big empty house where anything could happen.

She wasn't worthy of a kind word or a non sexual touch but she wanted them anyway. God she was so fucked up! And it played in her mind over and over again. She might as well still be over two hundred pounds, letting boys fuck her from behind so that they wouldn't have to look at her ugly face. They'd claimed doggystyle was better but she wasn't stupid, especially when the next day they didn't even spare her a second glance.

Thinking about it almost made her sick but she was gasping too hard to get the urge to vomit. She could still feel them—their hands—his hands—their mouths—his mouth; when did it ever stop!

Her head was buried in her hands when she heard the door open and soft footsteps getting closer. She went rigid with fear and waited. Waited for phantom voices to laugh at her or feign concern just to find out what the hell was wrong with her. Normal girls didn't have panic attacks in the bathroom.

"Rachel?"

Looking up into startled blue eyes, she crumbled like wet sand and barely stifled the sob that built in her throat. In seconds she was pulled into warm arms and being hushed soothingly as gentle fingers combed through her hair. Even thisshe didn't warrant but she couldn't force herself to jerk away. To crawl into a stall and black out until everyone was gone. She just needed a little human contact…just for a minute.

"Shh it's okay. It's okay. Did someone do something to you?"

She shook her head slowly. I did it to myself. "I—I'm—I can't—breathe… Rip—ley…"

Ripley wet her lips and shifted to face her, taking her face in her hands. "You're having a severe panic attack. You need to relax. I want you to follow my breathing okay?" She took Rachel's hand and put it to her chest. "Feel that? C'mon now, in and out slowly. You can do it."

Rachel was jerking with the force of her hiccups but she tried to focus. She stared into the other girl's clear pretty eyes, trying to get her shaking lungs under control. Please don't let anyone see. Please don't let anyone see.

The blonde's heart was so steady and she smelled like some type of mens' cologne but it was oddly comforting. As was the shape of her lips each time she exhaled. Rachel wasn't sure how long they breathed in tandem but eventually she could pull air into her lungs without feeling like she was drowning.

She sniffed and wiped at her eyes, embarrassed. "Th—thanks."

Ripley nodded and watched her. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Yeah I'm fine now. I just—I—"

"You don't have to tell me." Ripley shrugged. "I'm just glad you're doing better."

"Why did you help me?"

"Well I couldn't just let you suffocate, could I?"

"I was horrible to you earlier."

"Nah I've had worse."

"Thank you, Ripley."

"You're welcome."

Ripley helped her stand and waited for her as she fixed her face, tried to get her body to obey and be loose again. When she finally exited the bathroom she was her old self again with a big smile plastered onto her visage. A few of her cheerleading friends hurried over to pull her into their little circle of celebrating over winning the game and she went because she had to. Yet as she stood between Brittany and Leona (who she actually liked) and gushed about how great it felt to be in the State Championship, she couldn't stop staring at the petite blonde who strolled out of the gym with a handsome older man.

When she was twelve and people used to pick on her mercilessly because of her weight, she'd had a friend named Lila that was gorgeous but so unbelievably sincere. She never said anything bad about anyone and she hung out with the "fat girl" even though most people thought she shouldn't. She was incredibly nice to Rachel and treated her like a person. That is until Bobby Larson showed up and made it his mission to make Rachel cry as much as he could. And then bit by bit the once thoughtful Lila turned into a taunting bitch just like the rest of them. That was when she realized if she wanted to be anyoneshe had to get boys to like her.

Not having much to work with since guys didn't care if you were smart; she tried to go the route of sex appeal. A boy would have sex with you no matter what you looked like as long as he got off and no one knew about it. Bobby oinked at her in the hallways and drew pigs on her locker, but in the woods behind her house he plowed her like a man starved for it. It hadn't been good by any means but she'd gotten pleasure in the fact that Lila's perfect boyfriend came to her. Taping one of their encounters and sending just the bare basics to her former friend, and watching outside of her window as she erupted into tears was the first act of evil she'd ever done.

But it wasn't the last.

And honestly she didn't feel a lot of remorse for the lives she'd ruined except for a special few. Jimmy and Keith being at the very top of course since they'd both lost their lives. However under them was now Ripley and she hadn't even been that bad. Digging rumors people were spreading wasn't stealing a boyfriend or getting a teacher fired by lying and saying he'd grabbed your breast. Yet she felt bad for it just the same. Not to mention confused.

Did people really help you because it was the right thing to do? Not in her experience. But it was clear Ripley didn't have an angle. She'd looked into her eyes in the bathroom and saw nothing but concern…and frankly it terrified her. She was so damaged that she wasn't sure she could take someone honestly giving a damn about her, though she craved it like nothing else.

Still it gave her pause and a reason to not be evil towards the blonde. Maybe to just leave her alone altogether. Most of all she wished that small bit of kindness was enough to get her to change her ways but she knew it wasn't. She had to be what people thought she was, or she wasn't anything at all.


One am in the morning found Ripley outside on her porch with her acoustic guitar working on a song that wouldn't leave her alone until she got a proper melody. Everyone else was asleep but staying up late was usual for her. Sometimes her head felt so busy that she wondered if bees were inside buzzing around. She didn't think she was an insomniac but it was possible. It was also possible that she perhaps had some kind of undiagnosed disorder for the reasons why she was how she was, but she chose to focus on the brighter side. She was creative and she enjoyed herself.

Yawning softly, she wiggled her toes and tucked her feet under the large golden retriever lying in front of her, smiling when he spared her a glance. Meadow had wanted a small dog that fit in your purse but she'd been out voted, thankfully. Their parents were considering getting her one for her birthday but for right now Icarus was the only four legged family member.

Plucking the strings with her fingers delicately, she stared out into the openness of the early morning sky and hummed to herself. The stars were out and twinkling and she could hear crickets chirping over in the bushes. Other than that it was quiet with no cars speeding by on the road. Everyone was safely tucked away in their beds or their houses, and it made her feel peaceful.

When her cell phone rang it scared her and she nearly dropped her guitar. Sitting it aside, she expected to see Glenda's number on the caller id but it was actually one she didn't recognize. Flipping the phone open, she answered with a low hello.

"Hey." It was Rachel. Surprisingly. "I—did I wake you? I got your number earlier from your friend Toby. I hope you don't mind me calling you."

"No…I don't mind." She replied. "And yeah I was awake."

"Good." Pause. "I'll be honest with you. I—Brooke isn't here. We got into this huge fight and she packed a bag and left to stay with her boyfriend…" Her voice dropped. "I'm by myself…"

Ripley reached down and scratched Icarus behind his ears. "I'm sure Brooke will be back once she calms down."

Rachel snorted. "Maybe. But she's really mad at me." She sighed deeply. "She's dating Mr. Chavez."

The blonde blinked in shock. "Our English teacher? Wow that's…a bold move."

The redhead chuckled a little. "I guess. I set them up but I had no idea he would be teaching at our school. Anyway he—they were sneaking around and I didn't say anything because she was happy. But well, my Maxim spread came out and I was really excited about it—and people were asking for autographs and shit. Did you see it? I'll get you a copy if you want."

Interesting. "Sure, get me one."

"I'll bring it tomorrow." Rachel cleared her throat. "Anyway Mr. Chavez took it from me and we sorta exchanged some snippy words. He made me stay after class so that he could insult me. I'm not innocent in this either, I mean I was totally baiting him about screwing Brooke but I wasn't going to tell anyone. When he asked me what I wanted I told him that I just wanted him to treat Brooke with respect and make sure she didn't get into trouble."

"That was sweet of you."

"I guess." She didn't sound too convinced. "The problem is he hit on me. He pushed me against the door and—well anyway I told Brooke and she didn't believe me. I went to the principal hoping it would seem more—I don't know—formal but that just made her angrier because Nick got suspended. Then apparently Nick told her that I hit on him and I think you can guess what happened. She was so mad at me and brought up everything I did to her before we were friends."

Ripley would never look at Mr. Chavez the same again. "Is that why you were upset earlier?"

"Part of it." Rachel whispered. "And I know I don't have a right to be calling you after what I did. But I didn't have anyone else to talk to. I'm sosorry, Ripley. If you want I'll tell everyone tomorrow we're not together."

"That's okay." The blonde smirked and switched the phone to her left ear. "Ya know Brooke is just angry but she'll cool down and things will be okay."

Rachel was silent for a moment before asking, "What if it isn't? What if she continues to believe him and never comes home? I—I don't know if I can stay here by myself anymore. It's so big and—and sometimes I hear things but I'm too scared to go check them out because what if someone has gotten in and what if they…"

"Rachel, breathe." Ripley sat up straighter. She could tell the other girl was on the verge of another panic attack. "Do you want me to come over?"

"You'd do that?" She inquired timidly. "Wouldn't you get in trouble for sneaking out?"

The blonde considered this. "Not if I leave a note and say a friend is in trouble."

"I'm your…friend?"

"I suppose you are."

The redhead sniffed as if fighting back tears. "Why are you being so nice to me? Trust me when I say that I don't deserve it. I've done horrible things."

Rubbing the back of her neck, Ripley sighed. "Yeah well, lots of people have. We're human and we fuck up, it's our thing."

She snickered faintly. "Yeah. I kinda excel at it too."

Shivering from a wayward breeze, Ripley pulled the blanket she'd brought out with her around her shoulders. "Do you like baked chicken in a creamy champagne sauce?"

A beat. "Um I've never had it. Why?"

"It's my night to cook tomorrow and I was thinking you could join us." What are you even doing? "If you wanted."

"I—" Rachel exhaled. "Okay."

Ripley smiled. "Cool."

There was silence on the other end for a moment and then Rachel was murmuring, "She's here. Brooke I mean. I—I think I should go talk to her."

"Yeah I think you should." The blonde said. "Just make sure that she knows what you did was out of love and not spite. That you didn't want her to be hurt because you care about her. I don't know who could reject someone loving them enough to tell the truth, even though they know they could be hated for it."

"Ugh you're so smart it's kinda annoying." She mused, sounding much like her old self. "Thanks, Ripley. I owe you one."

"You're welcome. Bye." The blonde hung out after the other girl echoed the same.

Ripley's parents had taught her tolerance from an early age which is why she'd felt no apprehension about coming out to them. She'd known if anyone had her back it would be her family. It's why she wasn't quick to judge someone and why she tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. Not everyone but most. Rachel using her to give people a thrill had not been right but compared to what some people did it was small chickens. But probably more than that she found it hard to deny someone comfort when they were in pain. Evil people sure but Rachel wasn't evil, just lost. That was so blatantly obvious that she wondered why more people didn't pick up on it.

It appears that even when everyone could see you, you could still be utterly invisible.


Rachel was used to always having the spotlight on her so she wasn't easily ruffled. She was used to thinking on her toes and rolling with the punches when something unexpected happened. She didn't get a case of nerves to often and if she did she managed to bury them deep. However as she stood outside of the Sinclair home, looking up at the blue shutters and fairy shaped wind chimes she felt butterflies in her stomach. The house wasn't as grand as hers but it was nice and obviously well taken care of. She couldn't believe she was here though; the only people who usually invited her over for dinner were guys and that was usually code for sex.

Smoothing down her dark green tank top, she knocked on the door and waited. A tall blonde opened the door about two minutes later, her long hair pinned back off her high cheek bones. She had crystal clear blue eyes much like Ripley and it didn't take a genius to realize that this was her mother. "Hello. You must be Rachel."

Rachel offered up a little smile. "Yeah."

"I'm Tabitha. Come in, come in." She stepped to the side so that she could enter.

Upon slipping inside and into the living room, the first things she saw were photos on the wall and above the fire place. She didn't mean to be rude but she migrated to them, staring at the smiling faces and chubby cheeked babies. At the little girl with pale hair making a curious expression as she pointed at some type of crab. In fact a lot of the pictures had the little girl making a similar expression; it was kinda adorable. There were also pictures of family outings and birthday parties, of weddings and elementary school graduations.

But out of all of them the drawings caught her eye the most. Each member of the family had been hand drawn in careful, lovely detail.

"Those are my favorite too." Tabitha mused behind her. "Rip did those when she was sixteen. We had them laminated so that just in case they got wet they wouldn't get ruined."

"She's really talented." Rachel said slowly.

Tabitha grinned proudly. "Mhm. So Rip tells us that you're a Ravens' cheerleader. You girls have had a lot to cheer about lately. I should say now don't mind my husband if he starts in on his basketball talk. He's obsessed."

"And now I know why my ears are burning." Said the tall dark and handsome man who entered the room from the hallway. "I'm Jeffery, Rip's dad by the way."

He was very good looking. If he'd been anyone else's father Rachel probably would have went after him. "Nice to meet you."

"Hey Rip! Rachel's here!" Jeffery yelled up the stairs. When there was no reply, he snorted. "Meadow! Tell your sister that Rachel is here!"

"She must be working on that song again." Tabitha mused. "Oh! Where is my head, do you want anything to drink? Rip is making dinner but she disappeared while the food is cooking. She does that."

Rachel shook her head. "No I—I'll just wait until the food is ready I guess."

Tabitha nodded and headed into the kitchen, motioning for Rachel to follow which she did. There were potted plants hanging in the corner and a small windowsill garden under a wide square window where sunlight filtered in. On the stove were several steaming pots and inside the oven something was baking. On the other side of the kitchen through an archway was the dining room where the table was already set. It was like walking into one of those family movies on Lifetime or something. Rachel's family stopped eating dinner together when she was around ten unless they went to a fancy restaurant where her parents would then proceed to ignore her and sip their wine.

Tabitha Sinclair was a beautiful woman, warm unlike her own mother. She had a friendly smile and fair skin, and the same odd type of ethereal looks that Ripley and her little sister possessed. It was weird because Jeffery Sinclair looked like a real man's type man. Strong with work calloused hands and that everyone deserves a fair share air about him. Unlike her own father who only wore expensive suits or polo shirts.

Ripley entered the room a bit later with a dog trailing behind her wearing comfortable looking plaid pajama bottoms and a white tank top, her hair up in a messy ponytail. "Hey."

Rachel smiled softly. "Hey there."

"Hope my parents haven't been annoying you." She picked up a wooden spoon and peeped into a pot.

The redhead chuckled. "No they're cool. Um, I saw your drawings of them. They're really good."

"Thanks." The blonde yawned and tasted whatever she was making. "It's ready."

Dinner went off without a hitch and Rachel found that she actually liked Ripley's parents and sister. They joked around and riffed on each other but you could tell it was all done out of love. And the meal Ripley made was delicious, and she didn't feel self conscious about eating as much as she wanted. There was no one there to tsk at her or give her a critical eye when she took more than three bites. In a way though it hurt to see a family obviously so in sync with each other because it made her realize even more just how screwed up her own was.

But they were so…normal. Jeffery Sinclair owned a body shop that repaired cars and Tabitha owned her own bakery. They'd been married for twenty-five years and hoped for twenty-five more. And they obviously had no issues with Ripley being gay. Their total acceptance was something Rachel had never experienced before with anyone really. She could always be more; prettier or friendlier or skinnier.

She couldn't help but bit a little jealous of Ripley and her sister. They didn't have her money or her popularity but they were happy. She couldn't boast the same.