A/N: So I'd like to thank everyone for the reviews like always :) Also, I have to say that the previous chapter, well, I wasn't completely happy with it. It was a filler and I had trouble writing it so if it wasn't any good, I apologize. It was also a lot shorter than my usual update of 5000 words too. Anyway, I'm happy again with this (+5000 words-) chapter and I hope you guys enjoy it.

11. Broken Endings and Uncertain Futures

"Life lives, life dies. Life laughs, life cries. Life gives up and life tries. But life looks different through everyone's eyes." - Mahatma Gandhi

A tormented expression deformed Peyton's face as she reached in her purse to look for her keys. The beautiful blonde who was dressed in a short, black-velvet skirt, dark-green turtleneck and black boots with rounded toe and two inch heels , had been walking around with tortured feet ever since she had left her house this morning. She was sure if she'd take one of her expensive leather boots off and turn it, a pool of blood would come pouring out. Then why, do you wonder, was she wearing this outfit?

Well, when Brooke had asked her a week ago if she'd like to meet her boyfriend and Peyton had confirmed, the brunette had immediately advised her cousin to wear something more 'dressed-up'. Today Peyton had found out why there had been a dress code: Brooke P. Davis' boyfriend was Clive J. Hirson, CEO of NY Ralph Lauren and a man who apparently wasn't used to dining at 'Mc Donalds', the blonde had noticed when Brooke had escorted her into the Bay Leaf, one of New York fanciest restaurants.

Although Peyton had to admit she had been a bit shocked concerning the age gap between the two brunettes, she was happy for her cousin: Clive seemed like a good man and despite his wealth and high status in society, didn't look down on other people at all. On top of that, he let Brooke treat him the way she treats everyone, like lackeys that is, and instead of being aggravated by her dominant behavior, it looked like he found it cute.

Throwing her keys on their dark-wooden cupboard, the blonde quickly scanned the room for her father. When she couldn't see him at his usual spot in front of the TV, she walked further through the hall until she reached his room. Softly, she pushed the door of his bedroom open to see him laying with a bear-and-bows decorated album in his hands.

"Hi," she greeted.

Larry put the album on his lap and looked up. "That skirt is too short." He can still remember the first time his daughter had started wearing short skirts. It had been the first day at seventh grade and not much later boys began following her like puppy dogs. They all said they wanted help with their homework but Larry soon figured out why during their tutoring sessions, they asked his little girl to go get them a drink every ten minutes; those punks just wanted to see her walk to the kitchen.

"Da-ad," she complained while rolling her eyes. "This is a really expensive skirt! Don't insult it."

"It's because of clothes like that young girls get missing!"

"No," Peyton protested. "Young girls get missing because of sick people."

He sighed. "For once, can't you please not contradict me?"

"Sorry." She shrugged and took a seat next to him. "Besides, it's what we do." She moved her index finger between the two of them. "Yes, no; black, white; Paris, Nicole, t-"

"Who are Paris and Nicole?"

"Eh…" Peyton shortly stared at him as if he came from Mars. "Never mind," she then continued. "You don't want to know, really."

They began flipping through their family album which contained pictures of Peyton with teeth like a fair shooting booth, of Larry's Corvette, of Anna's flower arranging activities, of all possible holidays and off course of their Golden Retriever they had, in a less than creative manner, named 'Goldie'. After a while, they stumbled upon a picture of Peyton around nine years old, sitting on the floor surrounded by piles of obscure-looking records.

"Remember your mother tried to make you listen to those Mega Mindy songs?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "But when she turned her back, I listened to Iron Maiden and Black Sabbath."

"My CD's," Larry sharply pointed out.

She gave him a puppy dog look before they both went back to watching their pictures.

"You know what my favorite song is?" Peyton suddenly broke the silence.

"No..."

"What a Wonderful World. Like mom."

She now fully got his attention. "Really?" Lesser would his surprise have been if she had said 'Smells like Teen Spirit' or something. On the other hand, he could see a definite change in the attitude of his daughter now and two years ago. Except from the fact that she had matured, she had also gained hope in life and he felt she believed in the goodness of people again. It had been different once and he was happy to see how much she was grown.

"Yeah," she nodded. "It's full of hope, you know. I mean, that song just... makes sure you don't forget there is good in the world. It reminds you that you have to look for greatness and purpose in everything. Even when times are rough. "

"Lucas?" he asked.

"Dad..." she began slightly insulted. "Yes, I love Lucas and he changed me for the better but I like to think I have contributed something to my own happiness. I mean, I like to see myself as an individual person rather than a clingy, dependent girlfriend."

"My daughter, the feminist…" he smiled.

"No…" Peyton protested. "I just want to live my life with Lucas beside me and not…" she paused and briefly thought about her words "above me."

"I don't want Lucas above you either," he replied. "Or under for that matter."

"Ewww, dad, please. I told you not to talk about sex!"

Upon turning the page, Larry pointed to a picture in the left-bottom corner. "Look here," he laughed.

Peyton covered her eyes with her hands. There her five year old self stood, with molested, self-cut curls. "Oh, no, that's awful," she cried out. "I can't believe you took a picture of that."

"You thought it was awful? You mother was inconsolable, she cried for hours."

The blonde began to laugh. For all the bad memories she had, she realized she had an equal amount of good ones to even them out. However, suddenly it hit her how soon, she wouldn't be able to make new ones because, how hard it was to accept, he was going to die one of these days and even though both her father and Lucas had told her many times that the past was in the past, she couldn't help but still feel guilty about the hard time she had once put him through.

Her laughter slowly died out to fade into tears. "I'm sorry,' she now whimpered.

"Peyton..."

"I just," the blonde explained. "I don't want to lose you. There's so much I still want to do. Say. But I can't..." Quite roughly, she ran her hands over her moist cheeks. "Or I don't know how..."

"Peyton, look at me," Larry ordered and she immediately did what he asked. It's OK," he reassured her. "You don't need to say or do anything. Because I know..."

Peyton nodded and let out a small laugh to handle the whirlwind of emotions raging inside of her right. After once again wiping her tears, she snuggled up to him. It had been a while since she had laid in her father's arms but she felt good there now. Safe. Harbored.

"You know which song I like?" Larry asked softly. "Bridge over Troubled Water," he further answered his own question.

Peyton bit her lip in order to suppress more tears. Though she might not remember every word her father had said over the years, she did recall how he had once pointed out how he wanted either 'I Did It My Way' or 'Bridge over Troubled Water' to play at his funeral.

"I really like that song..." Larry almost inaudibly added.

"I like that song too..."

Hours later, Peyton's eyes opened and roamed the room until her gaze fell on the wall clock. Eight thirty-two PM. They must've fallen asleep. She frowned. There was something odd here. Something had altered. The blonde tore her eyes away from the clock and gazed at her father's chest.

It wasn't moving. Was he...? Softly, she straightened her body. Her trembling hand rose up to his face yet right before her fingers would reach his skin, she pulled her hand back. Instead, her eyes widened and she softly went to lay down again.

And then there was nothing: no tears, no screaming, no breakdowns.

Nothing.

x

With his nail-bitten thumb between his teeth, Lucas gazed at Peyton from his seat in the kitchen. Ever since he had laid eyes on this girl, he had been able to read her effortlessly but now it was like if she had closed her story to him, locked off her heart. All he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and give her comfort but she simply wouldn't let him.

'Bridge over Troubled Water' echoed through the cold yet sun-filled air as the black varnished coffin slowly descended into the ground. Barbara had given the most beautiful speech earlier and everyone sitting in church had been sobbing, crying, weeping. Everyone, except for Peyton Sawyer, whose empty glance in her otherwise so fiery –if it was out of happiness or anger- eyes had been present ever since she woke up next to her father's cold, motionless body.

"Peyt?" Lucas tried. Softly, he placed his hand on her arm and felt her tense completely up.

Peyton turned her head to him. "I'm OK," she said and almost invisibly shuffled away from him.

Also as they left the graveyard and Lucas tried to hold her hand, she pulled away. Her action was like a cold stab. He had not expected this. Not at all. They were the perfect couple, on every single level. Now she almost couldn't stand his touch. But it would get better, right? She'd go through the mourning process at her own rate and then everything would go back to normal.

For about a month now, Peyton lived together with him, Nathan and Rachel in their flat because Lucas hadn't felt comfortable leaving her alone in that big, empty house and after about a week of pleading, he had finally convinced her of moving in with them. However, she hardly talked to him. She hardly talked to anyone. Brooke, Rachel and even his brother had tried to make her open up, to show some emotions, any emotions, but they had all miserably failed.

After calling her name for a couple of times without success, Lucas walked further to the living room and eventually found her in the garage, burning her father's clothes. It shocked him to say the least. The funeral had taken place hardly three days ago and she was already emptying her father's room. Didn't she have to cry or something? Scream? Why wasn't she giving a sign of human emotion?

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Don't you want to keep some of his clothes?"

"Why?" she asked snappy. "He's gone, Lucas, I don't think he'll be needing them."

"For memories, to remem-"

"Look, I'm not like you, okay?" Peyton tore her eyes away from the fire. "I don't stand still too long, I move on."

"It hasn't even been a week ago!"

"Lucas, please!" she cried. "Let me deal with this in my own way!!!"

On top of her impenetrability concerning her feelings, he was also clueless as to what her whereabouts were lately. Often –almost every day lately- she'd disappear a whole afternoon and whenever he'd ask where she had been, she simply answered: 'Out'.

Suddenly Peyton rose from the couch, put her coat on and walked to the front door.

"Where are you going?" Rachel this time asked.

"Out."

Immediately after the door closed, the redhead turned to Lucas. "You have to do something. Things can't go on like this." Hot tears shot in her eyes. This situation reminded her an awful lot of Ben, who had sought consolation in drugs after his father's death. Considering her past, the risk was even higher with Peyton and Rachel was immensely scared of her going down the same road as Ben had. She couldn't lose Peyton too. Because she cared, because was her best friend, and she had never had one of those…

"What?" he asked frustrated. "What can I do?! She doesn't talk to me!"

"Make her. That's what you're good at. Break down her walls."

"God, it isn't that easy, Rachel," Lucas said slightly rolling his eyes. "She doesn't want to! She keeps telling me I need to let her grieve. I'm doing what she asks!"

"You could at least stop her from going 'out' every five seconds. She has a-"

"History?!?" the blonde completed her sentence shouting. "Don't you think I know that?!?"

"No, I don't think you fully realize that!" she yelled back. "You're being so goddamn lax! Who knows what she's doing on the streets every day?!? You want her to end up like Ben did?!?"

A bit startled, Lucas stared at Rachel before he walked up to her and took the by now crying girl in his arms. "You're right," he said. "But I don't know what to do. I can't forbid her from going out for a walk…"

Rachel broke the embrace and looked up at him. "I'd follow her."

x

It was a cloudy day when Lucas decided to take the redhead's advice and follow his girlfriend. Peyton's footsteps eventually brought him to a rather marginal side of the city, which fueled his concern she might come here for drugs as Rachel suspected. In the background of these gray yet graffiti-covered walls, ambulance sirens and car alarms screamed shrilly and it was quite obvious mendacious affairs took place here.

However, Lucas' discomfort derived mostly from seeing all the dumps, which were probably squats, and the occasional dried vomit on the stones. Nonetheless, he bravely followed Peyton who was at this moment climbing the stairs of one of the buildings. It was hard for Lucas not to grab his girlfriend and drag her along with him but he suppressed the urge to take her away from here and instead, as silent as possible, eavesdropped at the door of the room she had just entered.

"Here," he heard her say. "Milk, bread, meat."

"Milk?" sounded the angered response.

"Yeah."

"I d-"

"Look, last time I checked, I'm not stupid enough to give an addict money."

"You know you speak like you're better than me but you aren't!" the girl shouted back. "You were worse, actually."

"I've changed!"

"People don't change," Ada answered. "You're still the same insecure, fucked up girl you were when I first met you. Damn," she continued louder. "Your father just died but you don't show any emotion. You're like a freaking robot and look where you are now."

"What do you mean? I'm doing well for myself!"

"Come on," she coldly laughed. "Look around you. Look where you are. It's happening again."

"No! You're wrong!"

"Keep telling y-"

Both girls turned their head when the door suddenly swung open. Upon seeing who stood in the opening, Peyton's eyes widened. What the hell was he doing here? Had he followed her? Why? Didn't he trust her? She didn't know what his explanation would be but what she did know was that she was pissed off like hell. Could he not leave her alone for a freaking second?

"What are you doing?" she asked scowling.

"Getting you out of here," he answered trying to grab her arm.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Peyton…" he spoke in a threatening manner.

"Don't take that tone with me," she ordered. "I'm not a child."

"You're coming with me."

"No, I'm staying."

Before she realized it, Lucas grabbed her by her waist and further threw her slender body over his shoulder. While cursing, Peyton lifted the curls dangling in front of her eyes. She couldn't believe this was happening; it was like Jake all over again. "Put me down!" she cried but it was hopeless; he was naturally much stronger and had a lot more muscles.

Lucas realized the way he brought her to the car –Rachel's one he had been allowed to borrow- was utterly ridiculous but the choice between her getting sucked in this environment again and a laughable display was quickly made. Quite roughly he put her in the passenger's seat and drove her home. The whole ride they didn't speak a word; the only contact was a to-ashes-reducing stare coming from both blondes' eyes. Only when they walked through the front door of their flat did their screaming match begin.

"This is getting ridiculous, Peyton!" he shouted. "We all care about you, we all love you but you just keep…pushing us away and I'm trying to get through to you b-"

"Oh, stop that psychological crap!" Peyton cut him off. "Whatever I did or did not to, you had no right to treat me the way you just did! You know if I don't help her, no one will. You want her to die, Lucas?!" she shouted. "Do you want that to happen!??"

"No," Lucas protested. "But quite frankly I'm more concerned about you right now then some stranger," he reasoned.

"You're not Jake!" she screamed, aiming at the time he had dragged her out of a nightclub.

"Yeah, and thank God for that!!!" Lucas roared back. When he saw her baffled face, he softened his voice. "Look…All I want from you is to stop going there."

She opened her mouth to protest.

"And you will," he cut her off before she could say anything. "You'll do it for me because I love you and if anything would ever happen to you, I'd never forgive myself." Looking for a reaction, he scanned her expressions but they remained the same. "Please, Peyt…"

When she heard how his voice was breaking and saw the concern in his eyes, she was touched. However, not as it should and only vaguely. It wasn't like she didn't love Lucas, because she did more than anything, but ever since her father died, she felt light years away from him. Plus, his heartfelt attempts to console had only annoyed her: he had never lost a loved one so how on earth could he understand this kind of sorrow?

"Alright," she nonetheless gave in.

"Give me your word," Lucas immediately asked.

His voice contrary to his words weren't dominant, but more desperate.

"You have my word."

x

When Nathan's voice suddenly sounded through the flat with the question if she wanted Chinese or Tai food, Rachel quickly wiped her tears away. Unfortunately, the brown-haired boy had noticed it: his words immediately died out and he took place next to her in the couch. "What's wrong?" he asked with genuine concern.

"Nothing…" she answered as tears again escaped her eyes.

"I know you…" Nathan protested. "You wouldn't cry over nothing."

"I just…You know where Peyton has been spending her afternoons?"

"No…" He shook his head.

"In a squat."

They fell in a brief silence.

"Shit," Nathan then let out. "Do you think she's doing drugs again?"

"No, but she shouldn't be there! Goddamn," she shouted. "She should be here talking to us… What if she does begin to take again? I can't handle this a second time."

"She has Lucas."

"Ben had me! But that obviously wasn't enough!"

"Rach…That wasn't your fault."

"Wasn't it?" she questioned. "I could've done more; I could've tried harder, I-I could've b-"

Nathan grabbed her by her shoulders. "No, you couldn't have," he cut her off. "Look…You might not like to hear this but I'm going to say it anyway: in the end, the only person who was to blame for Ben's death is Ben himself. No one forced him to leave home or do drugs; he decided that himself an-"

Angered, she slapped one of his arms of her shoulder and pushed the other one away. "You're starting to sound like your wife more and more every day," the redhead spat out. "Maybe you could go spread your opinions with her."

She stood up, walked to her bedroom and closed the door with a bang. Nathan sighed. He knew he wasn't as good with words as his brother but this had been one catastrophic speech. Now he realized how stupid it had been to be so blunt about such a delicate topic. Yes, it was the truth but to her it must've sounded like he was insulting who she saw as the love of her life. Not the smartest move.

x

The rain, tapping fiercely against the window, awoke Peyton from her sleep. She climbed out of her bed, walked out of her room and took a seat at the tensed breakfast table. For once, she wasn't the cause as she witnessed Rachel shooting death glares at a pile of melted Nathan. When it came to Nathan and Rachel, the blonde knew something was blossoming between them. However, to be quite frankly, she really didn't have the strength to care right now; everything seemed so banal compared to what she was going through.

Lucas looked up at her. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she replied.

A month ago, she would've bowed over and kissed him until everyone would beg them to go get a room but now she just went to sit down. It wasn't only him she had problems dealing with though. The person she had the hardest time to handle, really, was herself. She felt misunderstood, even by her own person; it was like something inside of her prohibited her emotions to show while all she wanted to do was cry in Lucas' arms until her eyes would dry up.

She took the jar of strawberry jam and tried to screw the lid off but the thing wouldn't budge. It frustrated her enormously, up until the point she felt the urge to cry. Increasingly angered, she turned harder and harder until she simply slammed the jar on the table in defeat. The blonde let out a crossed whimper but then again grabbed the jam. Concerned, Lucas reached out to her with the intention of taking the jar, but she pulled away while shooting him a look that could kill.

"I can do it myself," she growled.

When it appeared, she couldn't, she placed it in front of Lucas who submissively took it. Everyone's eyes were fixed on him as Lucas unscrewed the lid in less than a second. "Here," he softly said.

Peyton's hazel eyes instantly grew a glazy coat seeing him so clueless. Lucas was more important to her than anything else in the world and so she despised the way she acted to him. However, it was stronger than herself which made her wonder if there was something wrong with her. Why wasn't she right? Why couldn't she grieve like other people?

"It's OK to accept help, Peyton," Rachel carefully pointed out. "We're all here for you."

The blonde bowed her head agonized. Ada was right: she had just lost her father but hadn't even cried yet and then Lucas… He was one in a million yet she was treating him like shit. The worst thing, though, was that he stayed: every other boy would've probably turned around and given Schumacher a run for his money. She just wondered how long he'd still hang in there.

Wiping the tears falling from her eyes, Peyton rose from her chair and fled to her room. Lucas stared at the door she had just slammed shut looking beaten like a dog. When he felt a hand covering his, he turned his head to look into a pair of compassionate deep-browns. In a swift motion, he wrapped his arms around the redhead. They were the only ones understanding each other right now and this gesture of affection was something he really needed at this moment.

"Things will get better, right?" he asked.

"They have to."

Later that noon, Lucas decided to check up on Peyton to see how she was doing. When he opened the door, the sight of her nearly filled suitcases welcomed him.

"What are you doing?" he asked surprised.

"Packing," Peyton answered. "This is not about us, but about me," she immediately explained. "I really need my space right now and besides, I'm tired of being this burden to everyone." What she said wasn't a lie. Handling –or not handling- her father's death was hard enough without seeing everyone constantly holding back in order to not hurt you and your emotions.

"You're not a burden."

"Luke…" Peyton sighed looking up. "This doesn't change anything between us, OK?" He seemed hesitant so she walked over to him and cupped his cheek. The slight surprise in his eyes broke her heart. Was she really this cold to him? She shifted her hand to the back of his head and then softly captured his lips. "OK?" she asked once again.

He softly nodded. When she wanted to break the hug, he pulled her closer again in an almost desperate manner. However, being so near yet so far away to her pained his heart even more. Since they had gotten together, he had had her heart, soul and body but now he felt as it he had only the latter one. "I love you, Peyt…Please don't shut me out."

"I'll be alright," she convinced them both. "I'll be alright…"

x

With his Nike shirt and shorts on, Nathan left his bedroom. Even if Rachel wouldn't have sworn to never jog with him again, he would still be going without her, namely because the redhead hadn't spoken a word to him in days. Sometimes she even avoided eye contact. Opening the door, Nathan suddenly stood face to face with the object of his thoughts. When Rachel tried to walk past him, he put his arm as a barricade between the hall and their flat.

"I'm sorry, Rach…" he then apologized. "I was out of line."

"Yeah, you were," she confirmed.

"But you have to understand…" Nathan did defend himself "…that I care about you and so I can't stand you beating yourself up over this."

She sighed before shrugging her shoulders. "Can I please come in?" the redhead then asked.

"Oh, yeah sorry…" he answered and removed his arm, which he had completely forgotten was even there. Instead of going for a run, he followed her as she seated herself in the couch.

"Listen," Rachel began. "I know it isn't my fault but it still feels that way. And somewhere, you need that feeling, you know?"

Nathan shot her a puzzled stare. "No…"

"For so long, I believed that it was indeed my fault and now it seemed like you were taking a security away from me. It is something I believed in; even though the feeling wasn't…positive or it shouldn't have been there." She paused. "You get it?"

"Sort of…" he confirmed.

"Good," she smiled with a small sigh. They fell in a short silence. "Come here," Rachel then said and pulled him in a hug. "You're such a doofus," she added when they pulled back. "I don't know what to do with you."

As Nathan looked at her, he felt the urge to kiss her yet again, which he off course couldn't in these circumstances; it wouldn't be very tactful. "Rach?"

"Yes?"

"You want to go out with me?"

"Off c-"

"No," he cut her off. "Not like friends. I want to go out with you…Because I think I like you, like...More than a friend."

Upon beholding her perplexed face, he got a little uncomfortable. Maybe he shouldn't have asked it; they were after all talking about her feelings concerning Ben hardly seconds ago. If kissing wasn't appropriate, then this probably wasn't either right?

"Look," Nathan spoke. "I know this isn't the right time with all that's going on but will the time ever be right? With our luck concerning love-"

"Love?"

They shared looks before Nathan softly shrugged, confirming he was indeed in love with her.

"I'm in love with you too," she confessed with a soft smile. "And I'd like to go out on a date with you."

Nathan's eyes widened and also Rachel herself was a bit surprised by her eager affirmation. The redhead was sure that if any other guy would've ask her this question, she would've flat out refused –she had actually done so a couple of days ago with Ethan- but Nathan was a different case. It just felt right to say 'yes'. Why it felt like that, she didn't know, but it had conquered the guilt still lingering inside of her about Ben.

"Great," he, after the first surprise, replied with a toothpaste grin.

"Great."

x

Rushed, Peyton walked through her house. She couldn't find her father's CD's she had secretly taken from him when she was little; the things seemed to have vanished into thin air. With turbulent movements, the blonde went through every drawer in her house only to wind up in her own room again. She furiously opened her nightstand but instead of the CD's, she found an old picture of her, her mother and her father.

Before the image had the chance to touch her, she threw the picture back and slammed the little wooden door shut. Suddenly she heard something that got her full attention and Peyton remembered she had left the television on. Slowly she walked into her living room and beheld Louis Armstrong playing his shiny, golden-colored trumpet.

I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

What a wonderful world? She remembered her last conversation with her father and almost chuckled coldly at herself. How could she ever have been so naïve?

I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

When she saw skies of blue or clouds of white now, she didn't exactly muse about the beauty of the world. Because skies turn to gray, clouds grow black and eventually there is only darkness. However, no 'sacred' darkness but the one that makes you feel small, hopeless and closes you in until you can hardly breathe.

The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do
They're really saying I love you.

Didn't Louis Armstrong know a rainbow is simply the sunlight reflecting on raindrops? It's not some pretty miracle; it's scientific. There's no mystery because life is not a mystery. It's a misery. Eventually, all it brings is pain and sorrow through a chain reaction. Life hurts you and you hurt the people who haven't been taken away from you yet, like Lucas and Rachel. You hurt the people who still love you. The first time she did that, they all left. It wouldn't surprise her it they'd leave now too. And what do 'Love yous' help? They're just so hollow sometimes and definitely don't solve anything. They don't solve anything now.

I hear babies crying, I watch them grow
They'll learn much more than I'll never know
And I think to myself what a wonderful world
Yes I think to myself what a wonderful world.

They'll definitely learn. They'll grow up and lose their hope along the way as they take the battering of life. Listening to the song she had called her favorite once at this moment, she found it an ordinary lie. She took the remote and turned the television off. The world wasn't wonderful. It wore you out. After sunshine comes rain, rainbows disappear and from the moment you're born, you're awaiting your own or someone else's death.

When she heard the ringing of her doorbell, Peyton hurried to the door. Who could it be? Rachel had college, as had Lucas and Brooke was currently in London with her boyfriend. Swiftly she opened the door and for the first time in over month felt something other than the meekness she forced upon herself: surprise.

"Haley?"

So...? I think refused said something about me being really old-school and well, she's right :D. My music taste goes way back into the 50's. I can't help it, I'm just weird. What I found funny about your reactions was you guys saying the professor was a slimeball. Here in Belgium we have a very similar world but it means 'ass-kisser', really lol, like someone who'd do extra homework to be the teacher's favorite.

Anyway, tell me what you think!