fallen star
I stood outside of Tree Hill High holding Peyton's hand, happy I'd chosen to put tissues in my bra, I felt a bit more confident... We'd been walking, and I'd been fine, but standing here, on this walk way just looking at the school.. I'd frozen.
"I…I-I can't do it," I whispered.
"Brooke, you've been waiting for this your whole life. How are you going to be prom queen if you never even go to high school?"
"I'll manage!" I said turning around and walking the other way, but Peyton held on and yanked me back.
"There is no way that I'm letting you walk away when you came to my house two hours before school started and dressed me up like you."
I looked at her. She was right. She was wearing the blue jeans, the white shirt and the pink sweater. She looked strange, yet kind of beautiful.
"You don't even care if I go in…you just want to see Nathan," I said sulking.
She let go of my hand and stood in front of me, putting her hands on my shoulders, "Brooke Davis. You hear that name? Brooke Davis. Now if you step into this school and be yourself people are going to know you, okay? You're going to be a star. They'll watch you when you walk down the halls. People are going to love you. You're going to be a legend."
I smiled looking at her, I know she was just bull-shitting me, picking out lines she'd gotten from a movie we'd watched last week, but it still made me feel better. I then laughed, "You know I was just kidding. Of course I'm going in."
"Whatever you say," she said smiling as we started walking again.
Of course I wasn't kidding. Putting up a strong front was hard, but the thing was I only did it with Peyton, and her dad I guess. I was a little girl in front of my mom and whenever I met new people I shied away. I didn't talk, I was a mute. I was just so embarrassed of… myself. My mom often walked by my room laughing as I read pages I printed out on how to put makeup on properly. "Just give it up, you can't change how you look." And the thing was she didn't say it in the loving way a mother would say, the way Peyton's mom would. Saying it like you don't need makeup because you're already so beautiful; no she said it like all the makeup and tips in the world wouldn't save me.
I acted like the man in front of Peyton but I know she could still see through how vulnerable I was. But at the same time I don't even think she'd recognize me the way I was at home. I was nothing. What did I have? I had no boobs, my mom only spoke to insult me, and my dad well… he never spoke to me at all. I'd just gotten my braces off, I think I still had baby fat and my only real friend was Peyton. Didn't sound like anything special to me; or at least that's what my mom said.
And then I stopped thinking. Because I was through the doors. I was inside high school. I looked around. Everyone was sitting or standing in groups talking, laughing, running, punching each other. It was like a jungle. I looked at the groups of girls, some were normal, some were smart and some were obviously the popular crowd. God I wanted to be one of them.
"Crap! I think I dropped my phone. Stay here, I'll be right back," Peyton cried, running out the door. So there I was standing alone; staring in awe.
"Can I help you?" laughed a beautiful older girl staring down at me. She had long blonde silky hair that was pulled back from her face with a black headband. She had on a short skirt and flip flops with a low V-neck shirt that showed off her huge boobs.
"Uh…uh…"
"Aw, it's a little prostitot!" she laughed, all her identical looking friends giggling in the background.
I looked down at my outfit, mortified. I looked like an idiot. I was trying too hard. I was trying to pull off the look she did effortlessly.
"I…"
"This isn't a special school. Do you s-speak English? Or do you just use the lingo you sluts use on the corners?" she said staring at me with mockery in her eyes. Her friends were killing themselves laughing.
And then he came in.
"Whitney, honestly. Fuck off," he said, taking a step in front with his back towards me.
I didn't see his face. But he was a good foot and a half taller than me. I felt like a little kid. I couldn't even see the girl anymore because he was so… well… jacked. He looked gorgeous even from the back.
He then put his arm around her, "You're just jealous she'll be you in a couple years."
"Oh shut up!" she said trying to shove him off but he kissed her neck and she started giggling. The bell went off and all the girls scattered.
The guy then started walking, still holding Whitney. He looked back and I caught his face; he was gorgeous. He looked back and stared right at me and mouthed, "I think you look hot," and then he winked and kept on walking.
I was happy he didn't look back again because I know my face was bright red.
Peyton then jogged over: "I found it! It was just by the pavement near that light – wo, what happened to you?"
"I…uh…"
Peyton than looked around, "Oh shit the bell went off? We don't even know what class we're in!" she grabbed my arm and we started running towards the class lists.
I think she was talking to me the whole time searching, but I wasn't thinking of anything else other than his face.
I wish I'd known then, that nothing would ever be the same.
I woke up sweating. I sat up and held my covers tight, trying to catch my breath. The nightmares had become a recurring thing. I wanted them to go away; I didn't want to think. I looked at the clock. 8:39am. My headache, which was pounding now, in revenge of the party I went to last night, felt like it was getting worse.
I was going to be late for school, again. Of course no one came to wake me. There was no one here. There was never anyone here. I looked at bedside table beside me and saw the rest of my two six of vodka sitting there. I reached over and grabbed it, opening the cap and started drinking, trying not to gag at the harsh taste that burned my throat. I wasn't going to be able to get through today without it; not a lot of days I could get through with out it, and the constant nightmares of replaying of old memories didn't help anything. I dropped the empty bottle and wiped my face with the back of my hand. I searched for a water bottle and found a half empty Dasani bottle on the ground, I reached for it and chased down the burning sensation in my throat.
My phone started buzzing and I groaned as it made my headache feel even worse. I left it unanswered and walked to the bathroom, opened up the cabinet and grabbed two Advils. Swallowing them with tap water. I looked at the mirror and was disgusted with what I saw, just like usual. I'd gained weight and my hair was shorter and reddish. I turned around angrily and walked to my dresser. I grabbed a low tank top and a mini skirt and threw on some ballet flats. I could feel my buzz start to hit me and I immediately felt better.
I walked to school, quite gracefully for being half drunk and arrived to Bevin and a bunch of the girls running up to me.
"Brooke! Where have you been! We had practice this morning!" Bevin chirped.
"Well if you'd been at the party last night, you'd probably know," I replied, wishing she'd let me just get to class.
"Brooke…I was at the party last night."
"Oh, well just goes to show you," I said playing off a laugh. Had I really drank that much? On a school night?
Bevin laughed, "Well you don't look it," she said staring at my outfit.
"Honey, I couldn't look bad if I tried," I said, forcing a smile.
"You're totally right," she replied and we all started walking into school together.
We kept walking and I stopped when I saw him walking with a friend and laughing.
I wanted him.