Sorry it took so long. I don't own any of it. Thanks for the reviews!!
I can barely believe what happened moments ago, all I know is that I don't want to go back and face the mess I left quite yet. So I find myself here, at the rivercourt, lying on the foul line, trying to block everything out of my head. Which I was evidentially doing a hell of a job of, because I didn't even notice the pounding of your heals on the macadam, or your shadow blocking my sunlight until I feel a sharp stab in my side.
"What the hell."
"You are unbe-fuckin-lievable Lucas!"
I start to stand up, clearly looking for the clearest exit. But my efforts are stopped as I feel your weight drop onto me.
"You're not going anywhere." You angrily state as you straddle my lap. Unsure of what to do, I lean back onto my forearms, and allow you to speak…not that I really had all that much of a choice.
"I don't know you huh?" You angrily grab my hand, wrapping your fingers around my right pointer finger. "You got this scar when you took me fishing when we were eight and you got the hook stuck in your finger." I begin to open my mouth but you continue.
"This.." you carry on, grabbing my arm causing me to fall back a little, "you got when we were in the sixth grade and decided to sneak into the drive in movies. The fence had a hole in it, but a sharp piece of metal sliced your arm. You don't get nearly as many sore throats as you used to because you got your tonsils out when you were ten."
"This tooth." You state while pinching my front tooth with your petite fingers. "is half fake. I accidentally chipped it when I punched you after you told me sporty spice was a lesbian."
"You have a birth mark on your ass and are wearing boxers right now. You can't leave the house in the morning until you've had your cup of orange juice." You suddenly rip my shirt above my head. "You had emergency surgery on New Years Eve of our senior year, because your appendix ruptured." I shiver as you fingers trace my scar. "You broke 3 ribs when that drunk driver hit you and your mom, and your shoulder has never been the same since."
"You think with your heart before your head 94 of the time. And you tear up when we watch the little league world series and one of the teams loses. You have a secret stash of Playboys under your mattress, and refuse to eat lettuce since it made you sick for a month when you were 9. You miss your mom, but you'll never admit that. And although you tell everyone Die Hard is your favorite movie I know its Weird Science. You like to stay up and listen to rain bounce of the roof, you're scared of spiders but you pretend to be brave and kill them for me. You squint…" your hands move to your face as you squeeze your eyelids shut, "when you think something's too good to be true. You blush every time I walk by you in a towel or my underwear, even though you've seen me like that a million times. And it only took me 2 minutes to find you, Lucas." You shout as you punch my good shoulder and stand up. "but none of that means anything, cause I don't know you."
"Brooke…" I begin, scrambling to my feet.
"It's my turn to storm away and cry, Lucas. Don't follow me." You start to move away from me, "ya know what. NO. I'm staying. You think that I don't want to give you forever? You think it's easy for me to fall asleep with my life-clock ticking, counting down the seconds til I die, til I leave you. Cause, let's face it Luke. I'm going to die."
"You don't have to die."
"Shut up, Lucas."
"No, Brooke, you shut up." I angrily reply as I decrease the distance between us. "You have the same scar." I explain while grabbing your finger "cause you felt bad that I got hurt while trying to help you. When I got this…" I shout while grabbing my arm. "you used your brand new cashmere sweater to stop the bleeding. You brought me my first ice cream when I got out of the surgery on my tonsils. And you made yourself my personal translator when I couldn't speak afterwards."
"You cried more than I did when you chipped my tooth, because you felt so bad. You hate the freckle on your right cheek, no matter how many people tell you how adorable it is and probably aren't wearing any underwear at all right now." I grin while shaking my head. "You pour me my OJ every morning and always make sure it's stocked in the fridge. You missed the big party that New Years Eve, to sit with me in the emergency room. And you bitched out the doctor who would press on my abdomen every time he walked into the room. You refused to leave my side during my therapy after the accident, and stayed with me every night after she died."
"You think with your heart 100 of the time and love that it wore off on me. You love watching the little league world series, no matter how much you complain about it and you always cheer for the Midwest team for some reason. You have a secret stash of literature in your underwear drawer and love placing lettuce in sandwiches that you make me. But when the other guys on the basketball team did it, you kicked them in the nuts, all 7 of them. You miss your mom, but you'll never admit that. Let's not even pretend that Sixteen candles if your favorite movie, can we say The Cable Guy? You like heat lightning in the summer and well yea we both hate spiders. You kink your eyebrows when you're trying to be cute and see nothing wrong with walking in on me when I'm naked…"
"What's your point, Lucas?" you whisper with tears in your eyes, "your participation in this friendship was never under question."
"The point is, Brooke, that you belong to me. All those things you know about me, and pretty much everything about me, has to do with you. You're a part of me, Brooklyn Penelope Davis. People always looked at us like two orphans running around town, but they didn't get it, Brooke, they still don't. We belong to each other; we're all we've got. You're my family and I'm yours whether you like it or not…"
"I'll have the surgery."
"What?"
"I'll have it, Lucas."
I pull you into a hug, lifting you from the ground. "That was easier than expected." I squint as place you down.
"I'm still mad at you." You reply as I squeeze you tight.
"That's fine."
"And you still suck."
"Nah I'm pretty sure that's your area of expertise."
"You wish, Broody, don't think I didn't notice how excited you got when I hopped into the shower."
"You hardly hopped in. And its not far how often you get to see me naked. I think you owe me about 832 naked Brookes."
"How bout you settle for a new Playboy and a bottle of lotion." You grin as you run ahead of me, heading towards our apartment. "Last one home owes Brooke a lap dance."
First one home owes Lucas a forever. I smile to myself as I chase your retreating form.
