Disclaimer - If I owned OTH, [insert every BL lover's disclaimer here].

Summary: Peyton realizes her new boyfriend has more in common with her ex than she cares for.

A/N: I wrote this after re-watching the first few episodes of S1 OTH. Characterizations are based on the way they were written then.

"So, what do you wanna do today?"

It was Thursday evening, and Lucas and Peyton planned on spending it together for some much needed alone time. They'd immediately gone to her room, and were now lounging around comfortably trying to decide on what they would do for the rest of the day.

His girlfriend shrugs in response, plopping herself on her elbows as she lays in bed.

"Wanna go to the Rivercourt?"

She gives him a look. "I think I'll pass, thanks."

He laughs. "Come on. I'll introduce you to the guys. You'll love them."

Peyton nods absentmindedly. "Look, why don't we just stay in tonight and then we'll go to meet the guys some other time? I have this kick ass CD I want you to check out." She gets up from her position and walks towards her music collection.

Lucas squints. "Why don't you want to go to the rivercourt?"

Sighing, she places the record back in its place before turning to face him.

"It's just that," She tries to think of a meaningful way to describe how she feels. "I'm surrounded by basketball all the time in school. It's not exactly my favourite thing, you know? I just want a break from it all."

"Look, let's just go for a couple of hours and then we'll come back and listen to that CD. What do you say?"

She rolls her eyes at his persistence, missing his frown. "Luke, I know you love the game. But...I don't, okay?" He looks hurt, and although she feels a bit guilty, she's more frustrated. "Watching a bunch of guys run and jump just to work up a sweat is not my thing."

"You cheerlead for the team!"

"Well then I guess I'm just a mystery." She deadpans.

Gritting his teeth, he tries using another tactic to convince her. "Look, that place is important to me."

"It's a basketball court."

"It's more than that. It's a place where I could always go to let go." Her look of indifference makes him desperate. "I know that if you go there, you'll love it just as much as I do. Just let me show you."

"I've already been there." She shoots back, staring blankly at him as they both remember the infamous game between the two Scott brothers.

"Well, yeah-but that doesn't count. You've never seen it...in my element."

Her look is dry, and it makes him feel like an idiot. "Your element." She mocks.

"Yeah. When I play basketball there-I feel completley relaxed and in control. Nothing can touch me while I'm on that court."

She stares at him and does everything she can not to roll her eyes. He sounds just like Nathan. Worse-he sounds like the girls in the squad that think cheer leading is the most important thing in the world.

"You play for the team at school."

"It's not the same. Nathan makes my life hell on that team and you know it."

She scoffs at the mention of her ex-boyfriend. "Well then stand up for yourself."

He frowns, feeling an irrational blow to his ego. "I do."

She doesn't reply. She crosses her arms and looks off to the side, face set in a permanent scowl.

"Could we please just go?" He begs again, hoping to win her over by his persistence.

But she doesn't budge.

"Why is this so important to you, anyway?" She drawls out, trying not to sound condescending. "It's just a sport." She really couldn't understand these boys' fascination with the game. It's not like it'll change anyone's life. She understands why they would see it as a hobby, but to place so much weight on something so pointless is completely shallow. To obsess with it, as they did, was to ignore the things that mattered in life-things like art, and music. Things that mean something.

But by the hurt look in his eyes, she realizes that he didn't exactly agree with her opinion. And little by little - although her resentment of the sport and his plea was still going strong - guilt settles in.

Just as he's about to turn and leave, she sighs in defeat.

"Fine." She monotones, looking none too thrilled. Lucas turns back. "We'll go."

And just like that, his eyes light up and an appreciative smile blesses his face. Peyton stares at him and silently resents him even more. It's just a sport.

He extends his hands out for her to take it. She's going to love it. He knows she is. And he's so excited to show her off to his friends that he almost misses it when she grabs her sketchpad and dumps it in her bag.

Immediately, his smile turns into a frown.

"What's wrong?" She asks, noticing his expression.

"Uh...nothing," He trails off, deciding not to say anything that could get them into another fight.

She smiles at him and they make their way to his car.

They drive up to the rivercourt to see the guys already playing a game. It's pretty late in the evening, and the sun is just in its final stage of setting. The view is so breath taking, so brilliant, yet neither blond notices it.

Lucas guides her towards the court, smiling as his friends turn to him.

"Yo, Luke! Nice of you to finally join us!"

"Don' be expectin' him to come 'round here no more. Ma man's too big for us now dat he's with the big leagues, ain't you, Luke?"

Lucas rolls his eyes. "That joke never gets old, Junk."

"Woo! Damn dog, you're spicin' up our court! First Brooke Davis now Peyton Sawyer? Now I know why I hang witchu."

The guys laugh. Peyton turns to him with a confused smile.

"Brooke came here?"

Lucas frowns in thought. He completely forgot about that. "Uh, yeah. She came by a couple of times before we got together."

Peyton frowns in confusion. "Brooke hates basketball."

Lucas looks at her, suddenly feeling uncomfortable but not quite understanding why.

"She didn't tell me that." He says slowly as a strange thought whispers in the back of his mind.

"Yo, Luke!" His friend's voice cuts through the awkward conversation. "You playin or what?"

Lucas looks at Peyton, who sends him a small nod before watching him run over to his team mates. She makes her way to the bench and sits next to a scrawny boy holding a microphone.

"Hi. I'm Mouth." He says, extending his hand.

Peyton shakes it. "Peyton Sawyer." She smiles kindly.

He reciprocates with a laugh. "I know."

She frowns at him in confusion.

"You're kind of a big deal around here."

Her frown deepens. "How come?"

Mouth smiles shyly. "Because of Lucas."

Peyton glances up at her boyfriend, watching him effortlessly weave across his opponents towards the basket. The emotions she feels are contradictory and not completely rational. At first she's flattered; happy that he sees something in her worth paying attention to. But then she feels...pressured; as though she has to live up to some perception that she herself doesn't entirely understand. The pressure leads to cynicism, because the girl crush went against everything she stood for. That spot is reserved for those girls whose lives were so simple and perfect that their priorities consisted of attracting and impressing boys. Peyton Sawyer is nothing like them and the thought of Lucas seeing her as such threatens the very identity she's built for herself.

Suddenly, she's angry. Furious even. She hates the fact that Lucas talks about her to his friends. Immediately, she wonders how much he's told them. Has he said anything about her art? Her mom? The thought makes her anger intensify. She hates the idea that a group of strangers even know about her. She's not some shallow slut like the rest of the high school female population, constantly looking for attention. She's deeper than that—she understands more than they'll ever see.

She looks away from him and sighs, pointedly ignoring Mouth's attempts at starting up a conversation. Just as suddenly as the anger hit, boredom replaces it. She looks around the asphalt of the basketball court and wonders why she even agreed to come in the first place. She's hated basketball and everything associated with it ever since she watched Nathan torture himself over it. Sure, she enjoys the paradox of hating the sport she cheers for, but beyond the enigma it produces for her image, she couldn't stand the way the guys—mainly Nathan and now his brother—obsessed over it when it was such a useless and simple venture.

Sighing, the dejected blond takes out her sketchpad and begins to draw.

Lucas makes his fourth straight shot in a row. The boys cheer around him and he smiles brightly, turning to his girlfriend in a juvenile need to see her proud smile. He frowns when his eyes land on a mass of curly blond hair, which is all he can see of his bent over girlfriend as she sketches in her book. Mouth continues to commentate into his microphone, completely detached from Peyton's presence.

The forming thought trickles back into his consciousness, and his mind supplies the memory of a petite brunette who'd surprised him by showing up at that very bench. This brunette had returned his appreciative smile with a shy one; she'd conversed and laughed with Mouth, often commentating in her own suggestive way; she'd cheered at all of his baskets, and even managed to get Mouth to do a cheer routine with her for the boys' entertainment. This brunette—his mind doesn't supply a name—made an effort to engage with his friends, made her presence known and felt and contributed to what had turned out to be a fantastic afternoon.

His eyes refocus on his girlfriend—a blond—as she continues to sketch, lost in her own little world.

He gulps, feeling uneasy, and turns back to the game.

-tbc-

R&R