A/N- Firstly, thank you to those of you who reviewed last chapter :) and secondly, some of you were kinda confused as to why I posted it twice. I accidently clicked delete instead of edit, and so I had to repost. There is only one more chapter left in this story after this one, and then it's on with the next story! Anyways, hope you enjoy, and please review at the end :) xxx

Bubblegum Cherry Pie

Chapter 14: Coconut Shade

"So you're living with Nathan?" Brooke asks with inquisitive eyes and a raised eyebrow that is making Lucas more than nervous. It doesn't help that her body is less than a couple feet away, covered partially by a skimpy cheerleading uniform and long brown hair.

"Um…" He dips his head, partly to avoid her eyes because he knows if he looks at hers for too long, she might break him. Then there would be too much to tell, and too much information for her to be able to like him. "It's a long story." He finishes, bringing his head up only to watch Brooke twist her hair into a messy bun.

He's more than glad of Whitey shouting at him to return to the basketball practise he's supposed to be joining in with.

"Guess that's you." She smiles with a little wink. He's safe for now. "Bye gorgeous."

Lay-up drills are the least thing on Lucas' mind. Avoiding Brooke's questions seems to be near impossible, and knowing that she's a few seconds walk away from his bedroom (the one that he cried liquorice tears over her in) makes it even harder not to run down that road and tell her everything.

But he doesn't, because he daren't embarrass himself in front of her. Her world is perfect, and he doesn't want to bring his reality crashing in.

During breaks from banging the ball against the back board, or in some lucky cases, actually getting it through the net, Lucas watches Brooke instruct her cheerleaders on how to hold their bodies steady when completing a pyramid, and the importance of a straight back during the splits.

He loves how she pouts her lips at her own performance, and how every so often, she'll give up a smile for the girl who's working the hardest, or for one of the younger girls, who can't quite get the half turn in before her back flip. She's always happy, he notes, and even though she's not his now, (though he can't let himself believe that she ever was) he'll always think of her as the cheery to his broody, the pretty girl to his unkempt style.

----

"Scott." Whitey barks, then realises there are now two on his team. "Lucas, hit the showers."

He hangs his head in shame, his blue eyes staying away from the disapproving looks from Whitey and some of the team. Lucas shrugs it off. His mind's elsewhere.

He hears something of a sniffle, a stifled sob hidden away by some sort of material pressed to lips, he guesses. He's an expert at quietened crying, he had to be. Nobody cries in Dan Scott's house.

Lucas only looks back when he catches a glimpse of a tiny cheerleading uniform and shiny hair. It's Brooke, cell phone held loosely to her ear as she nods her head at nobody in particular. She doesn't know he's there.

"But you said you were coming back this weekend."

He guesses it's some guy that she met after whatever it was between the two of them ended. Maybe she met him before. Lucas isn't sure he wants to know, and he's not supposed to care anyway. Brooke Penelope Davis is now merely a distant dream to him.

"I know." She sniffs, obviously trying to disguise the tears that are falling down now beautifully freckled skin. "Yeah it's fine."

Lucas isn't sure when she came into the girl's locker room, or even why she left the door open, but he figures it must have been sometime during the instruction of a new defence system Whitey was shouting. He feels guilty for being there, for trying to figure out what might be the cause of her tears, and who might be on the other end of the line. Still, he can't force himself to move and head in the direction of his own locker room.

"I'll see you some time soon then." She whispers softly. It's quiet for a few seconds, and then it seems like Brooke questions her own sentence. "Right?"

Lucas can only watch as the brunette hangs her head a little lower, and a few wispy strands poke out from high pony tail.

"Bye."

He's in the boys' locker room before Brooke can even emerge from hers, with a fake smile and hastily re-applied make up.

----

There's a party at Nathan's house tonight, his house. Nathan didn't tell him, he's only found out by over-hearing a few conversations in the corridors between lessons and lunch. Lucas wonders whether he's supposed to attend, or whether he should just hide himself away in his room, shut out from prying eyes and the prospect of either no Brooke, or the old Brooke that he's heard about so often through the gossip mill of Tree Hill High.

He can hear Dan and Deb leaving, the giggling of the woman who should have been his mother making him feel physically sick. They're going away for the weekend, on one of Dan's business trips to do with his dealership, and as it's at some resort in Palm Springs, he's allowed one guest. Lucas laughs ironically to himself as the usually absent Deb has managed to be present for a free trip to the West Coast.

"Sorry I didn't tell you man." Nathan tells Lucas as he pushes the couch to the edge of the room with barely any effort. "I guess I kinda just forgot."

Lucas shrugs. Better to be left alone than bullied by the brother who could potentially be Dan's successor, he figures. "I think I'm just gonna stay in my room tonight. Catch up on some schoolwork."

Nathan frowns, but nods. "Okay, and you can always take a couple bottles up with you." His eyes scan to the drinks table, on which is an already ridiculous amount of vodka and beer bottles. He can only guess that maybe there isn't a keg tonight.

"Thanks." He grants Nathan a half smile. "But I think I might pass."

He's almost out of the room before Nathan calls him back. "Hey Lucas. I'm sorry about how screwed up this whole thing is." He shrugs. "I don't really know what's happened, but I'm sorry."

Lucas smiles at him, simply nodding in agreement as the two brothers realise that nothing else has to be said. He's more than grateful for Nathan having turned out nothing like their father, and guesses that life can't have been particularly good for him either.

----

Catching up on human biology isn't quite as easy as Lucas had anticipated, not when he can hear music thumping downstairs and obviously a couple in the guest bedroom next door. Even turning on his Ipod hasn't been enough to drown out the party below him, and thoughts of Brooke's earlier phone call keep penetrating his thoughts anyway.

He wonders whether she's here tonight. Not normally one to miss a party, Lucas guesses that Brooke might be on the 'dance floor' right now, the dance floor being the centre of the living room, speakers booming throughout the whole house. He guesses she'll have come here with Peyton, or at least a couple or more members of the cheerleading squad. The majority of the girls, at least the older ones, are frequent party whores, drinking copious amounts of vodka mixed with barely any cola or fruit juice. Still, Lucas isn't one to judge, and finds himself admiring the way that they can all let go and simply enjoy their night.

He curses his body for requesting him to take a trip to the bathroom, and upon doing so, Lucas stumbles across a certain Brooke Davis on his return. She's perched on the end of a guest bed-not the one next door to his room, but across the hallway, biting her glossy lip as she quickly wipes at the tears that had previously laid on her cheeks.

"Brooke?" He asks, questioning her to tell him what's wrong. He spies the back of some guy doing up the buckle on his belt at the top of the stairs, unable to identify him when he looks back in the direction of Brooke with some sort of disgusted look on his face.

"I'm fine." She snaps before Lucas can even ask anything. She's not fine though. That tone and the darkened tears, stained with mascara and eyeliner tell him that, and the way she has her arms pulled across her chest, hiding any glimpse of inviting skin scream that she's anything but okay.

"Did he try to…"

"No." Brooke's eyes widen as she realises what Lucas is asking, interrupting him before he finishes his question. He's glad then, because if she'd said yes, he's not sure what he might have done.

"You look stunning." Lucas tells her, smiling slightly as she rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, my face is covered in mascara and my hair's a mess."

He shakes his head. "Your hair is perfect." He's not lying. He loves Brooke's hair when it's slightly messy, not styled to perfection like it so often is. It reminds him of the time they slept in the department store, and when he woke up next to her, a few strands of perfectly-conditioned hair tickling his neck.

She's wearing jeans tonight, dark rinse, almost black, with gold stitching up the side. Her top is gold too, silk, with a lace trim on the shoulders, and golden nail polish to identify her toes in black peep-toes.

"What are you doing here Lucas?" She almost sighs, like she doesn't believe what he's saying.

"I just came back from the bathroom."

"No, I mean, here, at Dan Scott's house."

"There's a guest room here." A voice interrupts, and Lucas thanks God that right now, he doesn't have to explain anything to Brooke. "Oh…"

The edges of his lips curl into a small smile as he recognises one of his basketball teams mates looking expectantly at the bed Brooke is sitting on.

"It's okay, we're just going." Lucas tells him, Brooke's eyes staring back at him as he nods in the direction of his own room.

----

They haven't said anything to each other, not since Brooke settled herself on Lucas' bed, and he took his place on the chair by his set of drawers. He's happy to simply watch as she scans his bed-side reading collection, wrinkling her nose up at the titles she either doesn't know, or finds seemingly boring.

"Are you okay Brooke?" He asks softly. "Really?"

He doesn't want to bring up the phone conversation he overheard, because then it would appear that he had been eavesdropping. He guesses he has though, but he's not ready to tell her that, and he's not sure whether he'd like the answer.

She nods, somewhat sadly, her eyes focusing on anything but his. "That guy I was in the room with, I didn't…" She trails off. "We didn't…"

"It's okay." Lucas shrugs. "It's none of my business anyway."

"I just wanted you to know." Brooke tells him. "I don't want to be like that."

"You're not like that." Lucas replies confidently.

He watches as she gets off the bed, straightening her clothes and smoothing her hair before making her way over to him. When she presses soft lips against his cheek, brushing with stubble and light cologne, he breaths in her coconut scent, eyes shinning to learn that when his open, hers are still closed for a couple more seconds.

"I should go back to the party." She tells him, no more questioning about what he's doing here, or why he's not joining them.

Lucas only nods, involuntarily squinting his eyes as he silently tries to figure out what it is that she's keeping from him.

She's gone, leaving him none-the-wiser as to the cause of her earlier tears, and tonight's sadness. He sinks his head into the pillow, comforted by Brooke's scent and the creases she's left in the bed linen. She's weaving a coconut shade over him and Lucas is damned if he doesn't break it.

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