"Okay, so if you don't want to go home just yet," Lucas begins, as we turn the corner at the far end of the street and slowly drives away from my house, "How about we go to mine, just until you sober up?" he asks, glancing in my direction for a split second, and automatically pulling up next to the curb in front of his house.
"What about your mom?" I question, straightening up again and turning to face him. "Won't she mind if I walk in drunk?"
"Er, no," Lucas responds hesitantly, and I stare at him for a moment before he cracks into a smile. "Well there is only one way to find out." He tails off, getting out of the car, and walking around to help me out, but I quickly decide I can do it myself, and pull myself to my feet before he can reach me. Instead he course corrects himself automatically, walking up the porch steps and opening the front door.
I follow nervously, having not stepped foot in his house since I was four years old, which is strange because around that time I regarded this house as a second home and walked in without knocking. Clicking across the wooden floor, Lucas gestured in the general direction of the sofa before disappearing down the long hallway to the kitchen.
"Hey mom?" I hear him call out as I hear him open the fridge, and his footsteps come back in my direction.
"Lucas?" I hear a muffled reply coming from behind one of the closed doors, which clicks open just as Lucas hands me a bottle of water and takes my crutches off me once I'd sat down. "Oh…" I heard Karen falter when she noticed me sat here, but she recovered quickly. "Hey Peyton, it's good to see you again" she smiles genuinely at me, making it sound like she hadn't seen me for a few days, not twelve years, before turning her attention to Lucas. "Lucas, can you take your ironing into your room?" She hands him the pile of clothes that where in her arms and he rolls his eyes before disappearing back down the hallway. "And don't just dump it somewhere," she shouts at his disappearing back, causing me to laugh. With my dad away most of the time with his job I miss having these kinds of interactions, something that made a house feel like a home.
I unscrew the top off the bottle of water, watching the conversation between Lucas and his mom, noticing how protective he was of her without saying a word. It was just present in his posture. Karen turns back to me, running her hands through her short wavy hair and securing it back with a band, letting a few unruly curls escape and frame her face. I smile, knowing that my hair usually behaves in the same way when I let it dry naturally, although tonight Brooke had gone all out and insisted that I let her dry it into gentle waves.
"So Peyton," she smiles at me again, studying me for a split second. "Are you hungry?" I nod my head politely, and she disappeared in the same direction as Lucas, returning a moment later with a plate filled with homemade chocolate chip cookies, which she hands to me with a wink before disappearing again. Karen owns a small café in the centre of town and her food is amazing. I could hear in the distance the sink being run and dishes clunking together. In that instant I realized that she knew that I am both drunk, and about Lucas giving me his cookie when we first became friends. It surprises me how easily we have fallen back into the familiar routine of friends.
Lucas reappears in that moment, and I hide my shock by taking a gulp of the water and concentrate on sobering myself up.
"What did you do to deserve the good cookies?" he questions, teasingly as he snags a handful from the plate and sits down on the sofa next to me, and I raise my eyebrows at him. "She usually saves the homemade stuff for the customers and I get the broken bits." He laughs.
"I'm just that awesome," I reply sarcastically, flicking my hair over my shoulder with a laugh and accept the cookie his is offering, whilst scrunching my bare toes against the soft carpet. I notice after a moment that he is looking at me questioningly whilst chewing his second cookie. "My toes are really itchy," I explain, looking down past the cast. "Apparently it's part of the healing process, but I can't reach them because I can't bend my knee."
"Here, let me help," Lucas offers, handing me his last cookie without thinking about it, before sliding his hand carefully under my knees and twisting me so that my legs were across his lap.
"Luke, no," I protest, accidently using his nickname and he pauses for a moment to look at me, locking his blue eyes with my own green ones. With his hand on the bare skin of my knee, and his face so close to my own, I could feel my heart rate accelerate and my gaze unconsciously drops down to his lips.
"Hey Lucas!" A voice interrupts, breaking the moment, "I've just heard about this killer party down at one of the beach houses… What the hell?" A skinny redhead strides into the room, wearing skin-tight jeans and a slinky top. She took one look at me and my close proximity to Lucas, and I instantly know that if looks could kill then I would be dead twice over. Suddenly I'm feeling very sober, and I slowly shift my legs away from him, looking around wildly for my crutches so I can get the hell out.
The redhead in question is Rachel, one of the most popular girls in school, and for lack of a better word, a complete bitch. She had made it perfectly clear since she transferred in just before Christmas that she had set her sights on Lucas and no-one would get in her way. Much to Brooke's disgust she had managed to squeeze her way onto the cheerleading squad, and had made it perfectly clear from day one that she hated everything about me, from my band t-shirts right down to my Converse trainers.
"Er, hey Rachel," Lucas cuts through the silence, glancing between me and the redhead, who was now looking at me with her eyebrows raised, and I could almost see her brain scheming away on how to defend her 'territory'.
"I'm going to go…" I tail off, grabbing my crutches and bag before making a swift exit, clicking down the sidewalk before turning the corner onto my street. In the distance I hear a door slam, followed quickly by the screeching of tires against concrete.
Unlocking my front door, it had taken me a minute to locate the right key considering I didn't usually keep it locked, I let it slam closed behind me and my dad appeared from the living room, taking in my wild hair and flushed cheeks.
"Hey baby girl," he smiled, wedging a bookmark between the pages of whatever he was reading. "I didn't think you would be home tonight."
"Er, yeah change of plans," I mumble, making my way to the stairs. "I need to use the bathroom," I tag on as an explanation as I start to manoeuvre my way up the stairs carefully. It's only when I'm safely in my room, resting my head against the black painted wooden door that I realize I'm still wearing Lucas' jacket.
A/N – So we finally got to the end of the night. Please review if you have any comments x