Sorry this took me so long to update! I'll try to be better, but I'm leaving for a week, so it'll be atleast a week and a half before the next update. Thanks to all of you who have been interested in this story, and I hope you all still are. Don't be afraid to leave a review, even if it's saying you like the story.
Thanks to Miranda for betaing this on such short notice, and getting it back to me quickly. Much love from me to her.
The next two classes flew by for Brooke. There was the obvious staring from all the students, the ones who wondered –but didn't dare ask- what happened to her. The cheerleaders and their jock boyfriends ignored her. She tried her best not to let it get to her, but by the bell at the end of fourth period she couldn't get out of the classroom quick enough.
As she made her way down the hall the whispers started. "Slut," she heard a girl whisper as she passed by, obviously directed in her direction. The brunette offered a smile to another girl, but she simply got a glare in response. Then, after the girl had passed, she heard, "Disgusting."
She knew that she couldn't just turn around and run, that would be giving them what they wanted. But God, did she want to. Clutching her books to her chest Brooke finally reached her locker. She quickly spun the combination lock and pulled the door open only to see a piece of paper flutter to the ground.
She reached down, taking it into her shaking hands. She slid her binder into her locker and stared at the note, afraid to open it. What if it was from Rachel? Or Peyton? She could feel the chunks of her breakfast rising in her throat.
Taking a deep breath she pulled open the notebook paper, seeing the familiar writing scrawled over the lines. A soft, relieved sigh escaped her lips. The note was from someone who didn't want her dead – Nathan.
Just so you know, he wrote, they're planning on egging your car tonight. You might want to put the Bugger into the garage for safe keeping. And Bear? I'm here for you if you ever need me. That's what brother-type figures are for, right?
Brooke clutched the paper to her chest, quickly blinking away the tears from her eyes. She glanced down the hallway, catching sight of Nathan leaning against his locker. As if sensing her presence, he looked her way and gave her a wink.
She gave him a smile before shutting her locker. She folded the paper and slid it into her back pocket, surprised at how much better she felt. With a new-found confidence she made her way to the cafeteria, now able to ignore the taunts better than before.
Her brown eyes scanned the tables, already packed with students. She made sure not to look at her old table, certain that she would find Rachel and her posse enjoying their lunches. That is, if dry salad and fat-free yogurt counted as lunch.
Just then, a pair of waving hands caught her attention. Brooke stood there for a moment, staring at Haley as she waved her hands a little higher. She turned on her heel and quickly left the cafeteria, ignoring the confused look that had come to the girl's face.
She couldn't be seen with Haley James at lunch. It was one thing to sit in class with her, but she knew that if she was seen socializing with her. It would just give the bitch squad more to gossip about. Her fingers ached as she gripped onto her books, her feet moving quicker beneath her. She had to get out of the school at least for the lunch hour. Sure Brooke was nice to everyone, but she had a reputation to uphold. At least she had to try to do so. From the looks of it Rachel and her little posse were doing a great job of destroying it.
She pushed the door open and stepped outside, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. She felt a little calmer now, but she still needed to get off campus. So with her books in hand, she headed towards her car. The sight of the back end silvery blue and glistening made her shoulders relax that much more. The sight of the driver's side, however, caused her to double over, emptying her stomach onto the asphalt below her.
The paint, as shiny and new as it was the day her father bought the car, had been keyed. Not in the general, boring line across the metal, but in delicately arched angry letters. 'Skank bitch' seemed to scream at her from the car and Brooke squeezed her eyes shut tightly. She could feel the tears burning her eyes, threatening to roll down her cheeks, but she forced them back. She couldn't let them see her cry and she knew they were watching, probably from behind one of their fancy, expensive cars.
"She's not very original, is she?"
The brunette's eyes shot open at the sound of the male's voice. It was familiar, one that seemed to follow her everywhere and she had to fight the urge to hurl again. She swallowed hard, wincing slightly at the bitter aftertaste and stood on shaky legs. She brushed the dirt from her body and with an attempt at a confident flip of her hair, turned to face Tim.
"What do you want, Smith?"
"Just came to see how you were doing," he said. A smug smile crept onto his lip, and Brooke focused on not gagging.
"Leave me alone, Dim," she choked out before turning back to her car. She tried her best to ignore the scratched surface, but her eyes traveled over the words again.
"Come on, Brookie. Don't be like that!"
She gripped her books in her hands, ready to throw them at his ugly face. Who did he think he was to be throwing her nickname around like that? Brooke turned on her heel again, now furious.
"Leave me alone! If you ever talk to me again, I swear I'll report your ass."
Tim laughed at her, one hand on his stomach as if he were going to split open in sheer delight. "Like they'd believe a slut like you!" He turned on his heel then, bored with the conversation and walked away.
Brooke spun back around and stalked over to her car, her hands shaking in anger. He was such a scum bag! She slipped her purse off her shoulder, searched for the keys and quickly hit the button to unlock the doors of her car. She wrenched open the door and turned on the engine. As she buckled herself in, she peeled out of the parking lot. Had she not seen the boy standing in her path, Brooke would've sped out off campus and headed straight home. But Lucas was standing there, making no indication that he was going to walk across the intersection. She pressed her hand onto the middle of the steering wheel and honked her horn for a moment, watching as he looked over at her, uninterested.
After a moment he walked over to her car and pulled open the passenger side door. "What the hell?" Brooke demanded, but he ignored her and sat down, pulling the seatbelt across his body. "Get out of my car!" She smacked him across the bicep and he flinched slightly before turning to face her.
"You said you'd make an effort for Haley. Besides, you're the one who just left her sitting in the cafeteria. She was devastated. So you either go back in there," he said, thumb pointed towards the school. "Or you let me go with you."
The scowl that came to Brooke's face would've been enough to get any other guy to run away like a scared little dog, but Lucas just sat there watching her. After a minute she finally let out an irritated breath and pressed her foot hard down onto the gas pedal, peeling out of the parking lot again.
"Only on one condition," she said, despite the fact that the car was already zooming towards her house. "No hitting on me and don't try to pry into my life. This is just so that Tutor Girl won't slit her wrists over my attitude problem." She knew what she had said was mean, but right now she didn't care. And the slightly pained expression on Lucas's face, even though it was only there for a brief second, didn't affect Brooke at all. She was focused on one thing - getting her life back into order.
If there was one thing Brooke Davis was sick of, it was guys. And that wasn't something she got sick of easily.
