Disclaimer: "It's not mine, I swear!"
A little over a year later:
He held the phone to his ear as he waited for his drink. You have one old message, the automated voice told him. Hey, came her voice over the phone, it's me. I know you're probably in the middle of something really important right now, but I was thinking about you and just wanted to hear your voice. Is it weird that I call this thing just to hear you? Anyway, I love you. He pressed 2 to save the message and closed his phone.
The end of August he mused, as he stared at the calendar behind the bar. Was it really only August twenty-fourth? Had it really been just under two months since the last time he'd seen her?
Christmas had been fun. He'd met his dad in Charleston and Peyton, like the year before, had flown down to spend the holiday with them. When her parents had come home shortly after Thanksgiving insisting that she spend the break with them, as a family, he had been worried. But they'd compromised in the end, agreeing that if Peyton would spend Christmas Eve in Tree Hill they would fly her down to Charleston on Christmas day for the following week. It hadn't been the long vacation they were both looking forward to, but it had worked out.
He could still see her when he picked her up from the airport. He'd been sitting in the terminal for two hours waiting on her flight, which of course had been delayed due to a recent snow. He was in the middle of a game of Bejeweled on his iPhone when it range.
"Hello?" he'd answered absently.
"Lucas, hey, its Lindsey."
"Oh. Uh, hey Linds. What's up?"
"Nothing, just calling to say Merry Christmas and…." Her voice drifted out as his eyes caught sight of a glowing blond. Dark blue jeans tucked into tall black boots almost to her knees and a snug green turtle neck that reflected off of massive green eyes. Hair pulled back with a ribbon and smile that made everyone else disappear.
"Wow," he murmured as she stopped mere inches away from him, a blush highlighting her cheeks as she stood there in anticipation just before he used his free hand, the one not still holding the receiver to his ear, to pull her to him. "You look beautiful," he whispered against full lips just before he kissed her.
"Umm…Lucas?" he heard in his ear as he continued to greet his girlfriend. "Lucas?"
Peyton pulled back, grinning. "Who you talking to?"
"Oh!" he ended the call, "no one." He leaned in to kiss her again but she pulled back.
"That was rude, was that your dad?"
"What? No. It was just Lindsey, I can call her back." He leaned in again.
"Oh," she turned her head away, effectively blocking his lips, "Who's Lindsey?"
"No one. Kiss me," he grinned. And she obliged.
After they'd gotten to the house and the obligatory hellos to Keith, he'd ushered Peyton to the guest room and helped her unpack. Well, he'd lain on the bed and watched her unpack.
"So," she'd started with her back to him, "You gonna call Lindsey back?"
He smiled at the tone in her voice. She was jealous. He couldn't say he didn't love it. "I don't know," he shrugged, though she couldn't see him, and she turned around. "Maybe later." He sat up on the bed with his legs still stretched out in front of him and ran his hands over his jean clad thighs, " I can't imagine she has anything to say that could be more important than spending time with my girl."
Her arched brow spoke the questions he didn't need for her to verbalize.
He let out a puff of air. "She's a Lit major. A year ahead of me. Her father owns a publishing company in New York and she offered to edit my book. I figure it's a pretty good deal, I get a critical eye to look over my work, tell me if it's good or not, and then maybe a good word with a publisher if it is."
She nodded before she pushed herself away from the dresser and walked toward him. She'd shed her sweater and boots when they entered the room and his eyes were drawn to the silver half heart hanging from a delicate chain just above the scoop neck of her tank top. It's the necklace he'd given her for her for her 17th birthday the year before. He had the other side of that heart hanging from a significantly different type of chain around his own neck. The inscription on the back of the pieces read "True Love Always" with the "True Love" on her half and the "Always" on his. She'd said that was fitting since he was her always.
"I've already told you that your book is good." She said as she climbed onto the bed, straddling his legs.
"Yes. But it means more coming from someone who's actually read it," he grinned as his hands found her thighs.
"Well, it's not because I haven't offered," she reminded him.
"I know. And I'll let you read it; it's just not ready yet." His hands moved from her legs to her arms, rubbing soothingly from her elbows to her shoulders and back.
"Yet it's ready enough for Lindsey to read it?" she muttered, albeit a little high pitched.
"Peyton," was she really insinuating what he thought she was?
"Ok. Ok-"
"She doesn't mean anything to me."
"Yeah?" that eyebrow rose again, "Convince me," she grinned devilishly. And he did. She left a week later.
One short week later, he mused, as he twirled the alcohol around in his glass. He hadn't been able to get back to Tree Hill for Spring Break, electing to take a one week seminar that week that he would eventually need to graduate. She'd said she understood though; she always understood.
Plus, the regional basketball tournament was that week as well, and being Peyton's senior year, she wasn't going to miss it, so it's not like he would have been able to see Peyton even if he had gone back. She would have been busy. He downed the remainder of his drink and motioned the bartender for another.
He opened his phone back up and dialed for his voice mail again. Hey it's me. I know you're probably in the middle of something really important right now, but I was thinking about you and just wanted to hear your voice. Is it weird that I call this thing just to hear you? Anyway, I love you.
Summer break was two weeks away and she was lying on her bed crying. Something had to be wrong with that, right? She should be happy that school was breaking and she had three months of nothing to do but hang out with friends and go to the beach. And she had been, until a few minutes ago when Lucas had called to gently inform her that he wouldn't be able to make it home for Summer Break.
The Publishing Company that Lindsey's dad owned had offered him a summer internship while he worked on revisions of his book. Which Lindsey had deemed wonderful. Of course he couldn't turn it down. It was a perfect opportunity to get his foot in the door; to get a glimpse of the life he hoped to live.
Those were his words.
She was just going to miss him. Again. More. Whatever.
So she sat on her bed and cried more tears over a boy who she was increasingly starting to wonder if he was worthy of so much emotional stress.
It was the week of graduation when Brooke and Peyton devised a plan for her to go see Lucas after school ended. Sort of a last hoorah before having to become official adults. Graduation was on a Thursday, a day which Lucas had said he truly regretted not being able to attend, and she left the following morning. She had no doubt in her mind that Lucas would love it. Some of the things she needed to tell him, maybe (definitely) not so much.
So she left that Friday, intent on spending the month of July in Lucas' apartment. On her way there she picked up some grocery items that she would need for the special dinner she was going to fix and some flowers. She wasn't yet quite sure how she would get into his apartment, but she would figure that out when she got there.
She got a case of nerves as she pulled into the apartment complex but pushed them away before walking into the lobby. She noticed a plump young woman, maybe college age, sitting at a desk and headed in that direction.
"Hi," she glanced at the girl's name tag, "Michelle. I seem to have forgotten my keys, is there any way you could let me into my apartment?"
Michelle seemed to give her a friendly once over. "I don't think I've seen you around, you new here?"
"Um, no. Been here for almost two years now."
"Really? OK. What apartment?" she asked as she pulled out a thick three ring binder and a large ring of keys.
"13."
"13?" she questioned and Peyton nodded her head. Michelle turned to a page in the binder and looked up at Peyton, "You don't really strike me as a Lucas." She stated.
Peyton gave a customary laugh. "Well, I'm not. I'm Peyton, his girlfriend. I live in Tree Hill, but when I'm here, in New York, I live with Luke."
"Uh-huh. I'm really sorry ma'am but we have rules. I can't just let you into his apartment without prior knowledge. That's the stuff TV shows are made out of. You ever seen CSI? NCIS? Criminal Minds? The Mentalist?"
Peyton nodded. "I understand, but really I promise you he won't mind." The girl just looked at here. "My car is full of groceries, they're going to ruin. There must be something I can do." She pleaded.
She looked back down into the binder. "Well, there is a security question. If you can answer that then I suppose I can let you in. Just this once, though."
Peyton nodded eagerly. "Sure. Yeah. What is it?"
"What's your mother's maiden name?"
"My mother's?"
"Well, no, I suppose that would be Mr. Scott's mothers?"
"Oh. Roe." That was easy, she thought.
"OK." The plump girl beamed at her as if she'd answered the final question on jeopardy, "Just follow me."
Peyton followed her to the second floor and waited patiently as she unlocked the door. "Just be careful when you leave, they automatically lock behind you."
"OK. Yes. Thank you, so much."
"Sure thing. Tell Mr. Scott I said hello."
Peyton walked into the apartment and looked around her. The door opened between the living area and kitchen/dining area. Everything was neat and tidy, no paper or empty bottles sitting around. He'd gotten new furniture since the last time she'd been there. It was nice in a pale beige shade accented with black tables, pillows, and curtains- very masculine; contrasting nicely against the black dining set. Hands on hips, she turned a full 360 as something stuck in her nose- Vanilla. She shook her head, she wasn't sure what she was expecting, but this wasn't exactly the college-kid-bachelor-pad that she'd had in mind.
She walked down the small hallway and peaked into a tidy bathroom. She noticed the electric razor and single toothbrush sitting on the counter and unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. On down the hall she passed a bedroom set up as an office with a desk and Lucas' collection of books lining the walls of the small room, before coming to the third door. She pushed it open to reveal a large bed (also new), covered neatly with dark blue linen. Not a pillow out of place. She frowned. Lucas had always been neat, but he was still a guy, maybe he had grown up more than she thought. She threw the overnight bag that she had carried in down on the bed and went back to retrieve the rest of her things.
She propped the door open with a shoe, lest she get locked out, and went down to the car. It was coming up on three o'clock now and she knew Lucas didn't get off until five, but still, that only gave her two hours to get a shower and have dinner ready. She picked up the bags of groceries and decided to send Lucas down later that night for her larger bags.
By five o'clock she was showered, made up, and dressed with dinner smelling wonderful as it simmered away on the stove.
The radio was on and her hips were swaying with a song when she heard a key turn in the lock. She froze, suddenly nervous and anxious all at the same time. She turned toward the door just as it opened, prepared to fly into his arms, when the sight of long dirty blond hair stopped her in her tracks.
She took a step back as the girl, not yet noticing Peyton, closed the door and turned the lock, turning around she stopped short.
"Oh," she said, obviously startled. "Um, can I- can I help you?" she stuttered, her face calm, but her eyes slits of accusatory concern.
"Who are you?" Peyton spoke without thinking.
"I'm Lindsey. Who are you?"
"I'm- Lindsey. You're Lindsey?" Peyton asked, not needing an answer. "Where's Lucas?"
"He's working late. Who are you?" she tried again, not yet moving from the door.
"He's working late," she muttered to herself, "How did you get in here?" she addressed Lindsey again.
The older girl held up a set of keys, "I have a key," she said it as if it were something Peyton should already know. "How did you get in here?"
"Michelle, at the front desk. Why do you have a key?"
"It just makes things a lot easier." She remarked vaguely and finally moved from the door but just far enough to place a bag of groceries on the bar between them. "Are you going to tell me who you are or do I need to call the cops?"
"I'm his girlfriend." Her arms crossed over her chest.
"His girlfriend? Lucas'?"
She fought off the tears as she nodded her head. Clearly Lindsey wasn't aware that he had a girlfriend.
"Oh- well. Right." Lindsey paused for a moment to look at Peyton, and then looked behind her. "Well, I guess there's no need for me to cook tonight. Seems like you've got that covered." She picked up the bag and walked it to the refrigerator where she proceeded to unload the goods.
There was a moment of silence before spoke. "You know. This was a bad idea." She turned the burners off.
"What's that?" Lindsey looked up from where she was putting some fruit into a drawer.
"Nothing. I just. I should go." Fighting back tears, she grabbed her purse off of the table and walked out the door. When she rounded the corner of the building she leaned back against the brick and choked back the sobs that were coming out of her mouth. This was a terrible idea.
Lucas was pulling into the parking lot as Peyton was pulling out; neither noticed the vintage car belonging to the other as they passed.
Lucas walked up the stairs to his apartment and pulled out his keys. He frowned as he heard a deep soulful voice of some R&B singer coming through his door. When he pushed the wood open, his nose was assailed by various spices coming from the stove where Lindsey stood stirring something.
"Lindsey?" she spun around with a large smile on her face.
"Hey. How was work?"
"Good," he drew out slowly. "What are you doing here?"
"Well you said you had to work late and I knew you were having a bad day, so I thought I'd come over and cook you dinner."
"Oh. Well. That was….nice." He found it mildly odd that she had let herself into his apartment. She had a key, which he had given her for emergencies, and they were good friends- he just wasn't aware that they were good enough friends to be letting each other into the other's place of living without consent. It felt off to him.
She turned around and smiled then turned back to the stove.
"Well, uh…" he raked a hand over his head and down the back of his neck, "I'm just gonna jump in the shower, then."
"Sure take your time. I think this probably has another thirty minutes or so."
He walked to his room, blindly throwing his things on his bed and grabbed a clean pair of clothes. Don't want to be walking down the hall in a towel with Lindsey in the next room.
He stepped into the hot water and let it ease his tight muscles. He'd had a horrible day. Everything that could have gone wrong did- and then some. All he'd wanted to do when he got home was take a shower and call Peyton. Lindsey had put a damper on that slightly, but whatever she was cooking made his stomach growl. He'd have to wait and call Peyton later.
When he got out of the shower he walked back to his room and started putting away the things he had thrown on his bed. That's when he saw it. An overnight bag. What the hell was she thinking? He picked it up and carried out to the main room, setting it on the couch.
"What is that? It smells great."
"Thanks. I think it's some kind of chicken thing?" she looked adorably confused.
He laughed. "How do you not know what you're making? What'd you put in it?"
"I don't know," she admitted with her nose scrunched up, and he noticed it wasn't nearly as cute when it wasn't Peyton doing it, "to be perfectly honest, I didn't make it."
"Oh," he stuck his finger in the pot and licked the red sauce off the tip, "Mmmm. Who did?"
"Umm," he noticed she started wringing her hands, "OK, don't freak out."
"Doesn't sound good." He muttered.
"When I got here the front desk had let someone in and she was standing here cooking in your apartment."
"Who was it?" he asked calmly.
"I don't know I asked her name and she wouldn't tell me?"
"There was someone, some stranger, just standing here in my apartment?" he was doubtful.
"Yes." She was adamant.
"Lindsey."
"There was," she insisted.
"Well, was it someone I know? What'd she look like?"
"It was no one I know. She said she was your girlfriend."
He felt his blood run cold.
"I told her I'd never heard you speak of a girlfriend, but she said that she was. And she was standing here in your kitchen. Her curly blond head hug over your stove, using your-"
"Peyton."
"What?"
"Curly blond hair? Tragic green eyes? Legs for days?"
"I-I guess."
"That's Peyton. God, Linds, you know all about Peyton. Wait- you know I'm dating Peyton. Why would you tell her you didn't know anything about her?"
"She never said her name, how was I supposed to know that's who it was?"
He raked a hand through his hair and turning abruptly he walked back to his room.
"Where are you going? Lucas?"
When he returned he had a framed photo in his hand of the beautiful girl Lindsey had seen just a half hour before. "That's her," she nodded.
"Jesus, Lindsey, I-"
"Lucas, I'm sorry. I'm-"
He cut her off, "You should go."
"Lucas," she hadn't missed the steel in his eyes, "I-"
"No. Now, Lindsey. And don't forget your bag."
She followed his finger to where it was pointing to a black bag, "That's not mine," she whispered as she slipped out the door.
He thought his heart was going to stop. He walked over to the bag and sat down next to it. He gingerly pulled it into his lap and sat there for a few minutes just looking at it. It couldn't be Peyton's- could it? Slowly, carefully, he pulled the zipper back and began pulling out the contents. Shampoo- vanilla and lavender, coconut body wash, a Hinder t-shirt. He dropped his head back against the couch. Peyton had been here, in his apartment, cooking him dinner. And then Lindsey had walked in, with her key, like she lived there.
Quickly he got up and grabbed his phone off of the counter where he had set it when he walked in and dialed her number. "Pick up, pick up, pick up," he muttered and cursed when it went to voicemail. He left a message and tried again a few minutes later. Nineteen times he did that until finally a voice at the other end told him her box was full. He threw his phone across the room as the tears burned his eyes.
She'd barely made it ten miles before her phone started ringing. Lucas. She couldn't talk to him right now. She couldn't pretend like everything was ok, like she hadn't just walked out of the apartment he was obviously sharing with someone else. Lindsey. She was tired of competing with Lindsey.
She made it back to Tree Hill in record time. She drove straight to Brooke's. Not bothering to knock when she got to the front door, she let herself in and walked straight back to the brunette's bedroom. She flung the door open with force and the startled girl lying against the headboard jumped, handful of popcorn halfway to her mouth.
"Peyton? What are you doing here?" she questioned as she threw back the blankets and swung her legs over the bed. Seeing the tear tracks covering her face she rushed forward, "Honey, what's wrong? What happened?"
Peyton just shook her head, slowly at first and then fiercely as if to shake the image from her mind. "I- I can't…God, Brooke…I was so…so… stupid…and naïve."
"Honey, what are you talking about?" Brooke asked as she smoothed back her head and led her to the bed, pulling her down beside her.
Between the tears and sobs, Peyton recounted the story.
"That Bitch!" Brooke exclaimed when she was done.
"I know." She wholeheartedly agreed.
She shook her head, "that just doesn't sound like Lucas. Peyton, he's crazy about you. I can't imagine him not talking about you with every breath he took."
"Please, Brooke, think about it," she whispered hoarsely. "He's in college, I'm in high school. No college man wants to be dating a girl in high school."
"That's not true; you know that's not true."
"It is. Besides, I don't want to compete with Lindsey."
"You aren't in competition. You're Peyton Sawyer; you don't have to compete with anyone."
"That's not true everything's about Lindsey lately. Lindsey called to say Merry Christmas, Lindsey wants me to take a seminar early, Lindsey wants me to work this summer. I shouldn't have to compete with her."
"You're right you shouldn't," she conceded.
"You should have seen her Brooke," she whispered brokenly. "She's beautiful."
"No, Peyton. You're-"
"But she is," she interrupted. "She's got this long, thick, straight hair, and these blue eyes. She's tall and thin and-"
"You. Basically. Minus the curls. Honey, I really don't think you have anything to worry about. You should have stayed to fight for your man."
"Maybe that's just it Brooke. Maybe I'm tired of fighting for him."
The brunette just stared at her then. She had a valid point. Lucas hadn't been the greatest boyfriend since he'd left, but he'd tried. Maybe not lately, but in the beginning. Lately he'd just been busy with school and his book and….Lindsey. She let out a puff of air. "Maybe."
She watched as the distraught blond climbed into her bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. "Have you talked to him at all?"
Peyton didn't say anything just sat up and pulled her phone out of the pocket of her hoodie and handed it to Brooke. "Nineteen voice mails! Peyton you need to call him."
"No, I don't."
"Maybe there's an explanation."
"No, Brooke, there is no good reason for a gorgeous, single woman to be letting herself into my boyfriend's apartment while he's at work with her own god damn key!"
Brooke nodded and climbed into the bed beside her. "Well then, I guess it's just you, me, and the rest of the Gilmore Girls marathon."
Peyton stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth. "Where's Nate?"
"I think he's in the basement with Haley. Why?"
"Do you think we could just keep this between us for right now?"
Brooke nodded, begrudgingly, "Sure."
At the breakfast table the following morning, well, afternoon, Brooke, Peyton and Haley were discussing the details of their plans for the fall. With graduation behind them, and the two younger girls being offered fairly prestigious positions outside of Tree Hill, they had quite a bit of planning to do.
"Sawyer," Nathan addressed when he walked into the room, cordless phone in hand, "Lucas. I guess he's been looking for you."
"We're not talking." She stated, ignoring the phone in his outstretched hand, and moved to continue her conversation with Brooke.
Haley arched an inquisitive eyebrow in Nathan's direction as he stood frozen to his spot momentarily, not quite sure what to do. Lucas obviously knew that Peyton was there, at least, now he did. "So, you mean. The two of you aren't talking, or you're not talking to him?"
Peyton shrugged, "Either way I suppose."
"Right," he still had the deer-caught-in-the-headlights look, "Well then," and spun on his heel to exit the room.
When he placed the phone back to his ear Nathan heard Lucas' immediate, "I didn't do anything."
"Uh-huh. Sounds like it." He deadpanned.
"No seriously. I get home last night and Lindsey's in my apartment cooking dinner and-"
"Whoa. What's Lindsey doing in your apartment."
"I don't know. I mean, it's not like she broke in, she has a key, but-"
"She has a key?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah, for emergencies. But-"
"What was the emergency?" his thick arms crossed over his chest defensively.
"Huh? What? There wasn't one. I'm trying to tell you what happened," he explained, clearly getting frustrated.
"Well, don't let a little thing like a woman who isn't Peyton, with a key to your apartment, cooking you dinner like she lives there stop you from explaining to me what went wrong."
"No. It's not like that," he insisted. "I guess Peyton showed up here last night and Lindsey said she was here when she got here, cooking. And I don't know, there's a bag of her stuff here. I guess she was surprising me and then Lindsey showed up and Peyton left and now she won't take my calls. And whatever she's thinking she's got the wrong idea."
"Really? Cause it sounds like you've got some woman living with you" he whispered harshly, ever mindful of the kitchen full of women just a wall away.
"No, she's not living with me. No one's living with me. What do I do?"
"I don't know. She's not talking to you," Nathan informed him.
"Thanks. I figured that one out on my own," he bit.
"Look I don't know what to tell you. It's Peyton; she's going to be mad until she's ready to not be mad anymore. Just, I don't know, come down here for the weekend or something. Smooth it over."
"I can't just 'come down there for the weekend' I have to work."
"Well," annoyed, Nathan said, "don't know what to tell you man." And hung up the phone. If he wasn't going to listen to advice, he wasn't going to waste his breath giving it.
Two weeks later and he still hadn't heard from her. Not one word. And frankly, he was getting tired of it. He was a grown man, he wasn't interested in playing these childish games. And that's what this was. It was stupid and childish and God he just wanted to hear her voice. He wanted to fix it.
There was a knock at his door and he rose from where he was fumbling with his phone, debating on whether or not to try and call her again, to answer it. Pulling the door back, "Lindsey," he said with neither appreciation nor malice. Things between them had been sketchy at best for the past two weeks.
"Hey," she replied hesitantly. "I brought pizza- and beer." She held up the items. "I was thinking peace offering?"
He nodded ruefully and pulled the door open the rest of the way.
Lindsey took him in as she followed in behind him. The way his loose jeans hung low on his hips, the tight fit of his gray wife-beater tank, his hair was messy and he had a few days worth of stubble on his face. Sexy. She wasn't blind. Of course she wasn't stupid either. She had known who Peyton was the second she saw her standing in the kitchen- how could she not after having to see every new picture of her that her boyfriend received taped to the dashboard of his beat up old car? But she was a woman who went after what she wanted, and right now she wanted Lucas Scott. True, the course of events hadn't yet turned out the way she had hoped. Yet being operative.
Peyton had reacted exactly the way Lindsey had thought that she would, being a girl and all. Lucas, however, she hadn't expected the brooding, the sulking, the… drinking, apparently, as she glanced at the several empty bottles scattered around his apartment. Hadn't expected the mountainous effort on his part to get back in her good graces.
"So, how you holding up?" she questioned as she pulled plates out of the cabinet.
He shrugged as he pulled another bottle out of the fridge, popped off the top and took a large swallow. "The love of my life won't talk to me, what do you think?"
"Oh, come on, it can't be that bad." She chirped optimistically.
He scoffed.
"OK," she slid a plate in his direction. "Well, how's work?"
He shrugged and drained the rest of his beer. "It's work."
"Lucas," she placed her hand over his on the counter, "if she isn't willing to talk about this and work it out, maybe she's not ready for a serious relationship. Maybe she needs to grow up."
He shook his head, looking down at his plate. "This is my fault. I never should have given you a key."
"Oh," she said, taken aback. "Well," she pulled open her purse and pulled the small piece of metal out of her wallet, "Here," She placed it on the counter and tried to ignore the jab in her heart when he placed the item in his pocket. She took a deep, calming breath when the land line rang.
It rang three more times and Lucas took a bite of his pizza. One the fourth ring Lindsey asked, "Aren't you going to answer that?"
"Nope." The machine picked up but no one left a message. His cell started ringing moments later and he could tell from the ring tone that it was Nathan, the house phone rang again just seconds later.
"It sounds like someone's looking for you," Lindsey whispered as she watched him finish off his pizza and fill a glass with water.
"They know where I am. There's only one person I'm interested in talking to- they know that." When his cell rang again and Brooke's ringtone hit his ears he closed his eyes in surrender. Hitting the accept button he placed the receiver to his ear and irritably gritted out, "Brooke."
"Lucas," he heard tears in her voice.
"Brooke, what's wrong?" he asked, exasperated. He looked over at Lindsey. "If you're looking for advice about a guy, could you call Nate? I'm kinda in the middle of something." He lied, but he really didn't have the patience for this right now.
"It's Peyton," he felt his heart plummet. "T-there was an accident." He couldn't listen to this. Not Peyton. Not his Peyton.
"Brooke," he croaked as his eyes stared past Lindsey.
"No, no, she's ok. Well, she's alive," she clarified, knowing what he was thinking. "It's her parents. A semi hit their car somewhere in Nevada, they're dead. She's a mess Luke. You've…."
"I'm on my way," he cut her off and hung up.
He stuck his phone in his pocket and grabbed his car keys off the counter. He quickly walked back to his bedroom and pulled a bag out from under his bed and starting throwing clothes in it.
"What's going on?" Lindsey questioned from the doorway of his room. She was obviously vexed by the abrupt change in Lucas.
"I've gotta go to Tree Hill," he told her as he grabbed a couple of other things, a stern expression on his face. "Lock the door on your way out," he threw over his shoulder as he walked out the door, pulling a tee shirt over his head, as it closed behind him.
The taxi ride to the airport had given him time to make some phone calls. He'd started with his dad, who, still living in Charleston, didn't have much information yet either. But he'd been able to check on flights and booked Lucas on the next available giving him one less thing to worry about when he finally arrived at the airport.
Knowing Brooke was an emotional mess over the loss her friend had endured, he called Nathan and Haley next. They agreed that they would stay with Peyton until he was able to get there and he felt the jealousy bubble in his stomach when they told him that they were staying in Tree Hill for the summer. He cursed his decision, again, to go to school in New York; so many things in his life would have been easier, would have worked out differently, if only he'd stayed in North Carolina.
He paid the cabby as he pulled into the Departure drop off lane and was jumping out of the cab before it came to a complete stop. The only thing on his mind was Peyton Sawyer, and she needed him. Of all the doubts swarming around in his mind, that was the one thing that he was absolutely sure of.
Thoughts floated through his mind as he sat in his seat awaiting take off. Did she know he was coming? Did she want him there? Had she asked for him? He placed his ear buds in his ears and turned his IPod on as thoughts of her frantically scurried through his mind. He needed to keep it together. He needed to be strong for her.
When his flight finally landed in Tree Hill he called Nathan immediately. Haley answered the phone and told Lucas that Peyton seemed to be handling things well. He asked to speak to Nathan and was told that he had stayed at Peyton's house after she'd kicked her and Brooke out. Haley had gone back to Dan and Deb's to stay with Brooke. Lucas knew that Haley had meant to be comforting but she'd had the opposite effect. Being relatively new to their little group just before graduation, she had never really gotten a chance to get to know Peyton. Not really know her anyway. If she appeared to be handling things well, Lucas knew it was a façade; she was hiding behind a smile.
Nathan answered the phone at Peyton's house and confirmed what Lucas had been thinking. He'd said that she had yet to cry and wouldn't let anyone touch her or help her any way. He said she was being strong and putting up a good front. Lucas knew it was just that. A front.
It was almost five a.m. by the time Lucas had gotten a cab and pulled onto his former street. Pulling into Peyton's drive, he all but ran to her door but paused before opening it. What if she didn't want him there? He pushed the door open and slowly walked in before he could talk himself out of it.
Nathan was sitting on the couch with his feet propped up in front of him, watching ESPN. "Hey," was all he said when Lucas walked in. His voice was rough from lack of sleep as he pulled a hand down his face showing evidence of his exhaustion.
"Hey," Lucas replied. "How long have you been here?"
"Since she called Brooke and told her what happened. Haley was here for a while but she took Brooke home."
"Yeah," he spoke his acknowledgement, all the while thinking, 'It should have been me. I should have been here'. "Do you know when it happened?"
"About this time yesterday morning." Nathan explained.
"Why didn't someone call me sooner?"
He watched Nathans eyes fall to his feet as he shrugged his shoulders. He didn't have to explain, Lucas got it.
"Does she know you called me anyway?" Nathan looked up then and shrugged again.
"I don't know. I haven't had much of a chance to talk to Brooke today. And since she was the one that got a hold of you, I figured she should be the one to tell Peyton."
Lucas took that to mean Peyton didn't know. Maybe it was better that way.
Peyton heard voices downstairs and walked out of her room to see who was there now. Did these people not understand that she didn't want them here? She wanted them to leave her alone. She had only agreed to let Nathan stay because, quite honestly, she was tired of arguing with him, but she wasn't up for a house full of people. She made her way down the stairs to tell whoever it was that they could leave and take Nathan with them. But when she got to the landing the man talking to Nathan was so heartbreakingly familiar….
"Lucas?" it was tentative and it came out as a question, but she had to know if it was him- she knew it had to be him.
Hearing her voice, Lucas spun around and his heart broke. There before him was Peyton Sawyer. The beautiful blonde who he had probably fallen in love with the first time he had ever seen her. She was funny and sarcastic, witty and cynical, so strong and so brave, so perfectly imperfect, and right now so….. broken. And he was the only one who saw it. Without a word he walked to her and engulfed her in his strong arms.
Nathan silently watched them from the couch. Since leaving for college, Peyton and Nathan had become even closer friends, he seemed to fill the void during the times when he could come home and Lucas couldn't, and it killed him that he couldn't help her. He had stayed with her since the second he'd heard the news; not leaving her house for anything, not knowing what she would do if he left her alone. He knew she hadn't wanted them to call Lucas, afraid of inconveniencing him, but Nathan and Brooke both knew that Lucas was the only one who could help her, and contrary to what Peyton believed, he would want to be the one to help her. Watching them now, Peyton's head against Lucas' chest, his t-shirt balled in her fists as Lucas simply held her, his left arm wrapped tightly around her waist, his chin gently resting on top of her head, as his right hand stroked her curls, Nathan was glad Brooke had called. He quietly slipped out the door and headed home.
Lucas heard the front door click shut and it was then that her facade broke. As if the click of the lock had broken a dam, the tears came. Gut retching, heartbreaking sobs came to his ears, piercing the depths of his soul and it killed him that he couldn't take away her pain. He lowered them to the floor as her sobs shook their bodies. For hours he held her, comforting and protecting her in the only ways he knew how. His arms wrapped around her, fingers combing her hair, his thumbs wiping away tears. His lips whispering quiet words of comfort, kissing the top of her head, her forehead, eyelids, whatever they could reach to show her that he was there. That he would always be there.
The sun had begun to rise when her cries turned into a quiet murmur, eventually giving way to the silence. He felt her even breaths and he knew she had passed out. Slowly and oh so carefully he picked her up, cradling her in his arms, and carried her to her room. Gently, he laid her down on her bed and pulled the blankets over her. He walked through the room closing blinds and curtains to block out the lights rays for as long as necessary. He stepped into the hall to call Brooke and Nathan letting them know that Peyton was asleep and he was turning off their phones.
He gingerly stepped back into her room, closing the door behind him. He shed his shirt and pants and crawled beneath the covers, pulling her tightly to his chest. In his opinion, her parents had never deserved her. They didn't deserve the tears that she was crying for them. He had never liked them, but right now he hated them. They would never know the wonderful girl whose life they could never put before their own. The girl whose heart was breaking for the family she never really knew. He buried his nose in her hair as his own tears silently fell for a girl who had been through far too much pain and heart break in her short life. He finally closed his eyes in slumber as his heart sent up a silent prayer for the angel in his arms.
When he awoke the next morning she wasn't in the bed next to him. He wasn't surprised but he was definitely disappointed. He rolled out of bed and pulled his clothes on. He knew where she was. Filling a thermos with hot coffee and grabbing a blanket on his way out the back door he headed to their spot. Their spot. Was it really their spot anymore?
He saw her sitting there on top of that big rock, legs tucked up to her chest and arms folded around her knees. She startled when he draped the blanket over her shoulders and he let out a quiet 'sorry' before sitting down next to her.
They sat in the silence for a long while until she asked, "What are you doing here Lucas?"
He shrugged and wrapped a protective arm around her, "Brooke called me."
He felt her head nod against his shoulder and heard her swallow. "Come here," he whispered as he pulled her between his legs. He wrapped both of his arms around her as she leaned her shoulder against his chest, her head under his chin. "Did you really think I wouldn't be here?"
He felt her shoulders shrug. "I was so mean to you. I-" her voice caught.
"Hey. It's ok. It was my fault," he soothed, looking down at her profile. There was a long moment of silence before he heard her sniffle and felt the wetness of her silent tears as they bled through his t shirt.
"I didn't even know them," she spoke bitterly.
"Yeah. I know." after all, he'd had the same thoughts just hours before. They didn't deserve her tears. But he wasn't here for the death of her parents. He was here for her, just Peyton. And she needed to know that those tears were OK. "But it was your mom and dad." He spoke quietly and tightened his grip on her when her shoulders started shaking again with quiet sobs.
Later that night the gang was gathered at the Sawyer household. Haley had made a large pot of soup and everyone sat huddled around the picnic table that had been kept in the kitchen for the breakfast area.
"Have you thought about what you're going to do?" Brooke asked somberly.
Peyton, pale and quiet, shook her head no. "I don't know. I mean, I think I'll hold off the funeral until your parents get home," she addressed Nathan. "But other than that," she shrugged her shoulders.
Brooke nodded her head. "I was thinking more along the lines of what you're going to do with the house, the cars, their stuff. Are you going to keep it?"
She shrugged again looking down at the full bowl in front of her.
Lucas sat next to her with a leg on either side of the bench, a hand to the small of her back; he could see the beginnings of a break down. He rubbed soothing circles against the bare skin of her lower back and spoke softly, comfortingly, "It's ok. There's plenty of time to sort things out. There's no reason to rush into it."
Haley, from across the table, looked to Lucas, "Well don't you think she should take care of it before she lea- Oow! What was that for?" she demanded of Brooke who'd kicked her under the table.
"I think Lucas is right, she needs to take her time." She addressed Haley coolly; the warning in her voice accompanied the daggers in her eyes. "No need in making any rash decisions."
Nathan hooked an arm around Haley's neck and pulled her temple to his lips for a kiss that made a loud smacking noise. "They're right babe," he whispered.
Haley didn't respond, but turned her head back down to face her bowl of soup. She didn't understand why Peyton hadn't told Lucas yet, but if she didn't do it soon, she was going to do it for her. That boy needed to know.
"You know I was thinking," Lucas started carefully, "why don't you let us take care of the funeral arrangements, that'll give you one less thing to worry about."
She didn't respond for a moment, taking a tiny sip of soup off of her spoon, "I don't know. I-I don't know."
He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, silently leaving her to think it over.
Three more tiny sips later and she pushed her bowl away from her and stood abruptly from the table, four worried heads popped up to look at her. "I'm going to take a shower."
"Do you think that's a good idea?" Brooke asked concerned.
"My parents died, Brooke, not me," she stated caustically.
Brooke opened her mouth to speak again, but Lucas cut her off with a small shake of his head. The four of them watched as she disappeared out of the kitchen, presumably up the stairs, neither of them quite sure what to do for their grieving friend.
Forty-five minutes later (and yet to hear the shower turn on) Lucas had the kitchen cleaned up and the house emptied. With a sigh he made his way up the stairs and into Peyton's room. He walked cautiously to the closed door adjoining the bathroom to the bedroom. He pressed his ear to the door. Silence.
He rapped on the wood with two knuckles as he turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open. There was no steam or lavender floating in the air. He walked gently to the closed curtain and pulled it back just enough to slip his head in.
She didn't flinch or look his way at the 'whoosh' of the curtain hooks, and the sight of her was enough to bring him to tears. She sat curled up in the corner of the tub, unflinching, staring straight ahead. "Oh, Peyt," he whispered and crouched down to the tub. He lifted a hand out to touch her arm but she didn't turn to him. "You're going to freeze," he mumbled.
After a moments deliberation he stood up and pulled his t shirt over his head. His jeans and boxers followed, and then his socks. Leaning forward he turned the water on and adjusted the temperature before pulling the shower knob. He stepped in, blocking the spray with his back, and pulled Peyton up. He held her against him and allowed the heat from his body and the hot water warm her chilled skin.
He rubbed his hands up and down her arms to try and rid the goose flesh and she turned her eyes to him then. Large, green, haunted, dry and confused.
"I should feel something," she whispered then. "I should be crying or something…..right?"
"You have been crying," he reminded her.
She shook her head, "Not like I should be. I should be- devastated- or something."
"Well, what are you?"
Her eyes bored into his for a moment and he watched as her lips parted to speak before closing again. Her eyes clouded over and in that moment there was an abrupt shift in Peyton as he felt her pull away, even as she stayed right where she was.
She shrugged her shoulders in response to his question.
"It's ok to be mad," he whispered.
"I'm not mad," she insisted.
Yes you are, he thought to himself.
"You're not?" he dared to question. "You're parents have been leaving you your entire life and now they've executed the ultimate form of abandonment- and you're not mad?" he boldly challenged.
She dropped her eyes and he instantly felt guilty. He brought a hand to the back of her neck hoping to bring her eyes back to his. "They never deserved you," he murmured aloud, for the first time, the thought he'd had for the past ten years.
She shook her head, her eyes blinking furiously to try and keep back the tears. "That's not true." Taking a step back to distance herself from him she was suddenly aware that she was very naked in front of him. She crossed her arms over her chest to try and shield herself from his eyes.
He tried not to groan in irritation, but stepped forward and braced a hand against the tile behind her head so that she wouldn't step out yet. "It is true Peyton, and it's ok for you to feel that way."
She shook her head adamantly, "I don't."
His eyes bored into hers and she turned around, leaving him to face her back. He did groan then, standing and letting his head fall back. She could be so damn stubborn. He took a minute to think before popping the top off her shampoo and squeezing a small amount into the palm of his hand. Reaching his arms out he slowly worked the gel onto her damp hair.
Her head went from stiff to pliable in a matter of moments as his fingers messaged her scalp. She took a step backward, moving closer to him, and he worked from the top of her head down the length of wet curls and back up again. When she was leaning fully against him he wiped the soap away from her temple with a smirk before placing a kiss there and turning them around.
She opened her eyes and watched him as he diligently worked the clean water through her mass of hair. He caught her staring at him and offered a small smile which she returned. "I don't want to be mad at them," she confided quietly.
He kissed her forehead before resting his against it and closing his eyes, "I know. But it's ok if you are."
She nodded and pulled away slightly, "but I don't want to be. I just want to feel…I want to feel…I want to feel something."
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tighter against him. "I know. And you will, but, it's going to take time." He held her for a moment longer until he felt her lips against the front of his throat. "Peyton," he tried to sound stern as he tried to put a couple of inches between them.
"You could make me feel something," she whispered huskily as her lips moved from his throat to his jaw to his ear.
He shook his head, "Peyton." He grabbed her hands from where they had clasped behind his neck and pulled them in front of him. "We can't do this right now."
"Why not?" She demanded. "Take my mind off this; make me not think."
"Peyton. No." He silently cursed his nether regions for reacting to her plea; for even if his brain was being rational about the situation, his body was acutely aware of how long it had been since they'd last been together. "I'm not going to take advantage of you like that."
"It's not taking advantage of me when I'm asking you to do it!" she all but yelled.
"Pey-"
"No. I get it." She said bitterly as she yanked the curtain back, allowing the spray to fall on the floor. "My parents don't want me," she harshly threw a towel over her body and walked to the door, "you don't want me. It's fine." With that she slammed the door behind her.
He was beyond frustrated as he shut the water off and ran a towel briskly over his head before wrapping it around his waist. How she could turn this around into him not wanting her was beyond him. He was trying to be respectful. He opened the door and stood there for a moment watching as she violently pulled clothing from a drawer. He watched her mouth move but no words came out and he had to actively try not to laugh.
She looked over at him with a scowl before she turned her back on him to pull her underwear on while still holding on to her towel.
Fine. If it was going to take sex to make her see that he did want her, then he'd give it to her. He'd suffer the consequences later. He walked up behind and wrapped his arms tight around her to still her movements and kissed her shoulder, "Fine," he moved his lips to her ear and whispered, "You win."
"I don't want to win," she pouted.
He scoffed, she always wanted to win. "I do want you," he tried again as he sucked on her pulse point.
He heard a little sigh slip past her tight lips just before she shook her head and said, "No you don't." She could feel him behind her, against her- all of him. But she was mad, and her feelings had been hurt and she wasn't ready to give in just yet.
He grinned as he imagined her stomping her foot to accompany this little fit. He kissed down her neck and dropped his right hand low on her belly and pulled her tightly against his center, "Mmmmm, I do." Raising that same hand he caught her chin between his thumb and index finger and turned her face to the side to kiss her mouth.
He caught her lips between his and kissed her fiercely, without apology. When she hummed from low in her throat he felt as if some small victory had been won. He turned her around, and with his hands firmly holding to her upper arms, he backed her up to the bed. He followed her down, his weight immediately on her, as his lips continued to overtake hers.
It was frenzied and passionate and when it was over neither one could form a clear thought. Exactly what she'd wanted.
She threw a leg over his and snuggled into his side, "I'm sorry I took advantage of you," she grinned.
He laughed and pulled her tight into him. "I'll tell you what, you can take advantage of me anytime you want to."
She grinned up at him and he kissed her again, tenderly. This was nice. This was normal.
When he pulled away she could see the hesitation in his eyes, "I didn't hurt you did I?"
"Ut-huh," she shook her head. "In fact," she pushed him back and crawled on top of him. She opened her mouth to say something when his cell rang from the table beside them. "Don't answer it," she whispered dropping her head to his neck as he reached over to pick up the phone.
It rang again before he could look at the call display. "It's Lindsey," he said.
She pulled back abruptly and sat up, "So?"
He sat up and pushed her off of him, watched as her mouth fell open in disbelief even as his eyes begged her to understand. "I forgot to call into work, it'll just be a minute," he excused as he pulled his boxers on and stepped into the hall.
Unfuckingbelieveable, she thought as she walked back into the bathroom for another shower. This time she locked the door behind her.
The funeral was held three days later. Peyton stood at the gravesite, dry eyed, flanked by Lucas and Brooke to one side and Nathan and Haley on the other. Dan and Deb had shown up, after arriving home only hours before from their annual cruise. Keith had driven in from Charleston and two of her dad's colleagues had come, in what she assumed, office duty. It struck her then how much her parents had alienated themselves from the people of Tree Hill.
After the burial they all headed to the Scott's for snacks and then Lucas took her home. Things hadn't got on so well between the two of them since the few days before.
He followed her up to her room in silence. He noticed various boxes sitting on the floor with some of her things inside and he couldn't keep quiet anymore. The thoughts had plagued him since he'd arrived three days earlier.
"Hey, listen," he started, "I know this probably isn't the best time to be talking about this, but umm…I was wondering," she looked at him curiously as he rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, "well, I was wondering when you were coming to New York."
"I was just in New York," she reminded him bitterly as she worked the clasp of the necklace she'd worn.
He sighed. "I know. And I'm sorry about that. But, I kinda meant, you know, for good."
She stared at him blankly, "For good?" she repeated quietly.
"Yeah, I mean. I know we haven't talked about it lately. But you'd always said after graduation that you'd like to live there." He looked at her staring at him and continued quickly, "And I got the place fixed up nice. New…well, you probably saw all that. I just knew you wouldn't want to be living in some bachel-"
"I'm moving to L.A.," she blurt out, cutting him off. That wasn't how she'd wanted to tell him, but she couldn't stand there listening to him go on about the new things he'd bought for her and how he'd fixed up the apartment with her in mind. So, with tear filled eyes she looked into his shocked blue ones and went on, "with Brooke. I got a year long internship at a record company. I'm moving to L.A."
"Peyton?" he shook his head and dropped to the bed, surely his legs wouldn't hold him up anymore. "I- LA? That's… across the country."
"I know," she replied with a small voice and sat down next to him.
"Is it the furniture?" he was grasping for a reason. "The colors? I can change it. I mean Lindsey liked –"
"Lindsey?" she reeled back.
"Yeah,"
"I am so sick of hearing about Lindsey."
"Peyton, she-"
"No Lucas. I am so tired of competing with her."
"What? Peyton, that's ridiculous. You don't have to compete with her."
"Yes, I do. Everything is about Lindsey. Lindsey said this, Lindsey did that, Lindsey's on the phone, Lindsey picked out the furniture."
"I didn't say she picked out the furniture."
"Did she?"
"Well, she was there when I was looking at it."
"See! She's always there!" she exclaimed. "I just. I can't do this anymore."
He froze. "Can't do what anymore?"
"I can't compete with her. I can't…. she's everywhere," she whispered. "I don't want to have to compete with her."
"You don't have to," he was in front of her now, on his knees.
"I feel like I do."
"Peyton. I love you. I am committed to you. I- I don't know what you want me to do."
She shook her head compassionately. "Luke-"
"You know that," he stressed, "and if you don't…just…move in with me Peyton, let me prove it to you. I love you."
"Lucas," she breathed.
"You're saying no," he pulled away, burned.
"I'm not saying no, I'm just saying…" she paused. "This is a huge opportunity for me. I'm only the second intern they've taken right out of high school- I have to do this. It's only for a year and then I can move to New York."
He was standing now, feet from her with his arms crossed over his chest, tears in his eyes and it brought them to her own. "Lucas," she whispered but he just shook his head and walked out the door.
She didn't seem him again that night and she didn't try calling. When she woke up the next morning she thought to walk over to his house and try to smooth things out, but when she opened the front door a manila envelope fell on her feet, stopping her. She bent over and picked it up, ripping the top off and dropping the contents into her hand. A CD, 'An Unkindness of Ravens' scribbled in Sharpie black ink across the cover and a note.
She unfolded the notebook paper and slid down the door frame as tears blurred her vision.
Now a month after watching Peyton slide down the splintered wood of her front door frame he sat at the bar, alone. His 21st birthday and he was celebrating- alone. His thoughts were taken back momentarily to his last birthday.
"Hold on, I'm coming!" he'd hollered to whoever was incessantly ringing his door bell. He pulled the door open and his aggravation changed to joy when he was face to face with a familiar green eyed blond.
"Happy Birthday?" she questioned as she held a store bought cake out to him.
"Oh my god, what are you doing here?" he asked as he laughingly pulled her into a huge hug.
"Happy Birthday!" she said again, more confidently. "You didn't think I'd let you spend it all alone did you?"
"No, I, well, yeah. What about school?"
"It'll still be there on Monday," she promised. "But I have all weekend before I have to worry about that."
"This is amazing," he said as he kissed her.
Later, in his bed with the sheet covering his lower half, he leaned down and kissed her ear before whispering huskily, "Best. Birthday. Ever."
"Yeah?"
"Oh, yeah." He leaned down to kiss her again.
"Wait!" she pulled back, "we haven't had cake."
"What?" he questioned as she shot out of bed and threw his shirt on.
"Just a sec," she came back in moments later, that cake out of the box with one candle burning as she cheerily sang 'Happy Birthday'.
She sat down on the bed and placed the little square of chocolate sugar between them and he grabbed her hand, his fingers fondling hers as he leaned over to blow out the candle before she stopped him with another 'Wait!'
"What now?" he laughed.
"You have to make a wish." He looked at her skeptically. "Come on."
"Ok," he closed his eyes.
"Ok, anything you want, everything you want." She watched him smile with his eyes closed, "Now place it in your heart," she whispered.
He opened one eye and arched that brow. "Do you have it?" she questioned his dubious face.
He nodded. "OK now believe it can come true."
"Peyton," he argued.
"You never know," she interrupted his protest ,"You just may get what you're wishing for." He sighed, but indulged her.
"OK. I made my wish, can I blow out the candle now?"
"Of course."
"So you really think my wish will come true?" he asked as he looked down at their joined hands.
"If you believe in it with all of your heart, I do," she smiled up at him.
He smiled back at her. He'd wished for her.
So much for believing with all of your heart, he thought bitterly as he drained another drink. He looked down at his cell phone again before opening it one more time as he thought back to that voice mail from a few months ago that he doesn't dare erase. She ended it with 'I love you' and he keeps it just in case it might still be true.
He dialed his own number and listened to the automated voice recite, "May 1, you have one old message." He pressed the appropriate button to hear the recording and listened to her voice again. Hey it's me. I know you're probably in the middle of something really important right now, but I was thinking about you and just wanted to hear your voice. Is it weird that I call this thing just to hear you? Anyway, I love you.
A/N:
Title by Leann Rimes "And It Feels Like"
Sorry for the delay. I had two weeks of mid-terms and then my entire family got the stomach flu, then I got pneumonia. So… here you go! This had not been beta'd so apologies.
Also, I have chapter four written. If I get 15 reviews I'll post it ASAP, otherwise, I'll post it in a week.