Disclaimer: I own nothing except the newly fixed Mac in which I wrote this on…
The Rules Of Attraction
Where The Story Ends
(2 Years Later—May 2014)
"And time yet for a hundred indecisions
And for a hundred visions and revisions."
—TS Elliot
-xx-
Sunday
Sigma Chi House
The Sigma Chi house was unusually quiet. The guys whose idea of dressing up was putting on a clean t-shirt today donned their best jeans and button-downs—some even put on a tie.
Wilke ran around making sure everyone was ready to go and checking that the house was ready for summer lockdown.
Brooke walked into the house and couple of the guys stopped to say hello to her. Some of the oldies were there like Piz, Chase and Riggs—Wilke was actually the new Sigma Chi President now—but the absence of Owen, Dean, Bear, Jordan and Tyreke was still palpable. And though the newbies were fun, it wasn't quite the same.
Hell, Brooke even missed Basher for fuck's sake.
"Princess!" Tim Riggins greeted as he pulled Brooke into a bear hug.
Wilke grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back, "Hands off of Big Sis, Riggs," he instructed, "Clay's on the roof, as per usual."
Brooke pressed a kiss to the blonde boy's cheek, "Thanks, Wilke," she said, "And stop calling me Big Sis. Three years later and it's still annoying." She called out as she rushed up the stairs.
"Simple math, B," Wilke yelled out to her, "Clay's my Big Bro. You're like Clay's sis. So, you're my Big Sis." He sighed, "I'm gonna miss ya, B!"
"I'll miss ya, too, Wilke!" Brooke yelled back as she climbed the last step.
Upstairs, Brooke stood outside Nate and Clay's all too familiar bedroom door. The matching Batman and Superman's plates on the door had already been taken down. She still remembered buying those for them four years ago.
Brooke walked inside and paused for a beat. The room was bare, just two beds, two dressers, and two empty closets. (Though if you looked in the back wall of Clay's closet, you could still find Nate and Brooke's carved initials from when they'd gotten stoned in the empty house.)
Brooke walked towards the sash window. It was open. She spotted Clay perched on the roof, his cobalt-blue eyes set on the horizon.
It reminded her of the first time she ever set foot in the Sigma Chi house back when she was just a freshman.
-xx-
It was a scorching hot afternoon under the North Carolina sun, and the overwhelming heat made it feel like summer wasn't over quite yet.The old Tudor house looked a little beat down, its front door wide open as a horde of guys in blue t-shirts with the Greek letters ΣΧ and wife-beaters carried boxes and duffel bags inside. Parked on the front yard was a grey Dodge Ram 1500 pick-up truck full of kegs and booze boxes.
Brooke glanced at the text to make sure she had the address right—and she did. She walked into the house relatively unnoticed by everyone and paused to check out the guys—some of these guys were hot.
Though most were doing their own thing, there was a freakishly tall dude with black hair that every other guy running around the house seemed to defer to for everything. Brooke figured this was the man to talk to, "Hi, I'm looking for Clay Evans."
Before TallDude could answer, BlondeGuy arrived and threw an arm around TallDude. Then, BlondeGuy eyed Brooke lasciviously, his green eyes practically undressing her. "Damn, shorty! Why're you lookin' for Weasel?" he asked with a smirk, "I'm right here."
"Leave her alone, Dean. Quit bein' a douchebag." TallDude barked, and that was enough to send BlondeDouche—apparently called Dean—off somewhere else. "Sorry about Win'—kid's got not manners. You lookin' for Weasel, huh?"
Brooke furrowed her brow, "...weasel...?"
TallDude chuckled, "Pledge nickname." He explained, "Welcome to the Sigma Chi house. I'm Owen Morello." He said, offering his hand to shake.
"Wait, Clay's pledging a fraternity—Clay's pledging this fraternity?" Brooke scoffed in disbelief.
Owen Morello nodded, "Best house on Greek Row," he said with a confident grin, "Your boy's upstairs, third room to the left." With that, Brooke headed for the stairs. Owen watched her and shook his head—'this one's gonna be trouble', he thought. "Oy! —What's your name?" he called out.
"Brooke," Brooke glanced at him, flipping her chocolate colored locks over her shoulder, "Brooke Davis."
Owen clucked his tongue, "Nice to meet ya, Brooke Davis." He said to himself and shook his head once more, "Yep. Definitely trouble."
The second floor of the large house was even more chaotic that downstairs. There was a Slip 'N Slide on the hall, a bunch of dude's in their undies sliding on the floor, all the while playing a game of Ultimate Frisbee, only they were using a Nerf football.
Brooke made it to the bedroom easily enough, but it was empty. Then she saw the open window and grinned—it was official, she knew Clay much more than what was normal. "Frat house roof, C? Really?" Brooke climbed out the window onto the roof and sat down next to Clay.
"Best view in town, Dimples," Clay answered with a grin, jutting his chin out towards the horizon, "Just wait till you see that sunset."
Brooke shook her head, "This isn't the plan, C—not for you." she hugged her knees to her chest, "You are supposed to join Junior at Yale." Brooke hadn't even known Clay had applied to Duke University. "That's the plan. You're not supposed to be here."
Sure, neither Brooke nor Clay had been top of their class in high school (having been to a total of 10 different prep schools, not counting the ones abroad), but Clay was the best lacrosse player that Spenser Academy had. During senior year, Yale University had offered him a full ride and a starting spot on the Bulldogs LAX team.
And it wasn't surprising—Clayton Evans' destiny was to be a Yalie: his grandfather (Bartholomew Evans) and his father (Bradford Evans) had attended Yale. It was what Clay had been groomed for since birth. In fact, when his acceptance letter came in the mail, it was the first time Bradford Evans had ever verbalized being proud of his son.
"We're straying off course here, baby," Clay licked his lips, "Throwing the rule book out the fuckin' window."
Brooke chuckled, "Why? This isn't you. C'mon, becoming a beer guzzling frat boy, joining the Duke soccer team—you love lacrosse."
"Look, B, since we were five, I had it drilled into my head: lacrosse, Yale, pledging KAO, 'don't embarrass me'—keep the family legacy. But I don't want that. Yale means four more years under my father's thumb, and then straight into the family business. I don't want that for me." Clay explained, releasing a sigh, "And, yeah, I love lacrosse. And I'm fuckin' awesome at it. But it started because that's what I was supposed to do. I want to try something new. Think about it—I know you weren't that psyched to come here, but we can be anyone we want to be here." Clay chuckled and stood up on the roof, arms outstretched at his sides, "I'M KING OF THE WORLD!" he yelled out in a fit of laughter, like he was on fucking Titanic or something.
Brooke rolled his eyes and tugged at his jeans, "Sit down before your misguided attempt at freedom ends with you doing a face-plant on the front lawn." She jeered, "Are you sure about this? Bradford's never going let this one go..."
"It's time for me to become my own man. About time, don't you think?" Brooke only eyed him skeptically until he caved, "And, yeah...maybe I wasn't ready to be without my better half yet. Can you blame me?" Clay wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, "You're my family, B." he pressed a kiss to the side of her head, "Always."
Before Brooke could answer anything, a raven-haired guy cut their conversation short. Brooke eyed him for a second and immediately deemed him a jock: he wore a gray Duke Basketball hoody, baggy jeans hung low on his waist, and a backwards flat-brimmed cap on his head. He walked out onto the roof, two beer bottles in his hand. "Uh, hey, bro," he greeted, "I'm Nate—Nate Scott. We got paired off for the scavenger hunt." He handed Clay a bottle of Corona.
Clay took the beer and shook Nate's hand, flashed him his best lopsided grin—the one that won everyone ever. "Clay Evans. Nice to meet you, dude." He said, "This is Brooke."
Nate smirked, "Didn't know you had company. I would've brought you a beer, too." He downed half his bottle and extended it over to her, "I don't mind sharing if you don't," there was something akin to a challenge in his tone and an invitation in his smirk.
Brooke smiled at him—dimples full-blown, enough to make any guy putty in her hands, and at a single glance she could tell that Nate Scott was not immune to her charms. "Don't mind at all, Moody." Her dainty hands grabbed the bottle and she clinked it with Clay's—beer wasn't her drink, it had never been their drink (they were Scotch people), but they were in a new city, a new town. They could be anyone they wanted.
And maybe, they wanted to be the friends who sat on a fraternity house roof drinking Coronas instead of Macallans.
-xx-
Clay's long legs were crossed out in front of him, and his hands tried to button the cuffs of his white Armani button-down. His Sigma Chi yellow-and-blue stripped tie hung undone around his neck, and his hair was spiked up in that messy-yet-neat way of his.
Brooke knocked on the windowsill before climbing onto the roof and sitting down next to him. Automatically, she grabbed his hands and buttoned up his cuffs properly for him. After that, she easily knotted up the tie around his neck. They'd been doing this for far too long now.
"This roof, huh?"
Clay's cobalt-blue locked with her hazel ones, "Wait till you see that sunset, B," he said, grinning his lopsided grin. Brooke cuddled up to him and he wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling his face in her chocolate locks of hair. "You realize this is gonna be the first time we're not living fifteen minutes from each other, right?"
Nate Scott, Duke's Blue Devils star shooting guard, was among the first five draft picks for the NBA. This wasn't surprising considering he had shattered all the records during his time at Duke. However, it was Clay Evans who had arranged the deal, making him the youngest sports agent ever to get a player into the NBA. Having connections was good. The duo was heading to LA after graduation.
But Brooke was going back to New York.
"Yeah," Brooke nodded, "I don't want to think about it, though. Not yet."
Clay kissed the top of her head, "God, I'm gonna miss this place."
This place had been their home. The guys had been their family. It wouldn't be the same not stopping by there every day.
Brooke nodded, "It won't be the same without us..." And also, they wouldn't be the same without it.
"It most definitely will not." Nate's voice said from the windowsill as he climbed out to the roof. He wore black pants and a white (untucked) button-down. His Sigma Chi tie was balled up in his fist as he sat down next to Brooke. "Anyone else getting the weirdest déjà vu right about now?"
Brooke pulled the silk tie out of his hands and placed it around her own neck, knotting it up before putting it on Nate. "Tuck the shirt in, Moody." She said, kissing his cheek, "It's a big day today."
Nate nodded, bumped a fist with Clay, "Thanks, Sunshine," he replied, leaning his forehead against hers, "For everything." They both grinned and pulled each other into a hug. "Ah, I love you, Brooklyn Davis."
"Love you, too, Nathaniel Scott."
Clay snorted, "Ooh! It just got real—you two full-named each other!"
Brooke was the first one to stand up and head out the window. Clay and Nate sat together for a few minutes. Their friendship had really started out randomly—sorting had thrown them together as pledges for an assignment, and after that they just did everything together. "Hey, Nate," started Clay, "Um, I love Brooke—she's like my sister. But you're my best friend, man—my brother. And I couldn't have gotten a better one."
Nate smiled. Sure, he had Luke—and while their relationship had certainly gotten better, they'd always been rivals. Maybe it was a Dan-thing or a twin-thing or maybe it was just some sibling rivalry. Either way, Clay was his brother in a different way. And while Luke had always had Jake and Haley, Nate hadn't really had that little separate family of his own until he found Clay and Brooke. "We're family, man." He said, "Don't be getting all sappy about it now—shit, I'm gonna have to fire you before we even get to LA."
"Please! You know you'd be stuck playing for the Wizards if it weren't for me, Spark Plug."
Nate rolled his eyes, "Oh, we're bringin' out the pledge nicknames, aren't we, Weasel?" he teased, "What, you getting all nostalgic on me?"
Brooke poked her head out the window, "Oh, quit reminiscing, Paris and Nicole," she mocked, "We're gonna be late. Rachel's waiting for you two to pick her up, and I gotta stop to get Haley."
The threesome of friends made their way downstairs and took a final glance at the living room. The guys had already left for the ceremony and Sigma Chi house was empty now. It seemed...quieter somehow.
Nate and Clay's eyes focused on the plaque above the fireplace. ΣΧ: THΣ LAST HΣROΣS.
Four years later, they'd finally fulfilled the goal they'd set their freshman year of getting their pictures up on The Wall that was reserved for Sig legends only. To that day, they still hadn't told Brooke what it was that got you a spot on The Wall.
Then again, Brooke figured there was some stuff she was better off not knowing.
-xx-
Sunday
Jake & Haley's Apartment
Brooke walked into the Jaley +1 apartment and found Emma in a gorgeous blue dress (color coordinated to celebrate her parents' Duke graduation) sitting alone in the bare kitchen counter. The entire apartment was now boxed up and mostly empty. "Hey, kid. Why are you sitting out here all alone?"
Emma Camille James-Jaglieski was born on September 4th, weighing 7 pounds and 9 ounces. Like all parents, Jake and Haley thought she was perfect. Her Aunts and Uncles who were constantly spoiling her agreed with them. She was the two-year-old goddaughter of Luke Scott and Brooke Davis.
"Daddy! Tie!" Emma's dark golden locks of hair fell across her shoulders as she pulled a ribbon out of her hair. Her face was stained Kool-Aid red from the punch in her sippy-cup, though her outfit was remarkably clean.
Brooke laughed, "All right," she pressed a kiss to Emma's forehead, "Hales! Jay! I'm here and I'm watching your kid!" she called out, winked at the two-year-old.
Emma gave her a kiss and extended her sippy-cup to her, "Aw, thanks." Brooke cooed, taking a pull from the plastic cup. "Yum!" she exclaimed, her lips now a shade redder than before.
It was then that Haley walked out of the bathroom wearing one shoe and muttering under her breath. She glanced towards the kitchen, "Emma—Brooke!" she turned towards her brunette best friend startled, "Oh, my god, we're late, aren't we? Of course we're late! We're always the ones late. And where's Jake? Why is he not watching Emma?"
On cue, Jake rushed out of the bedroom, "I'm here!" His shirt was not yet buttoned to the top, his socks didn't match, and his hair was still wet, presumably from the shower. "Em spilled something on my tie and I went to change it, but I couldn't find another Phi tie, and all the guys agreed to wear one..." he let his voice trail off.
His hands fiddled anxiously in an attempt to properly tie his tie. Quickly like a habit, Haley slapped them off and easily knotted it up. "There. Done." She said, pressed a quick kiss to his lips, "And you know you can't leave her alone for a second: look at her face, look at her hair—Emma, don't!" Haley now had her Serious Mom-Tone. But Emma merely continued to tug at her bangs and spilling the Kool-Aid.
Brooke walked towards the blonde-haired mother and gripped her arms gently, "Hales, look at me—breathe. I got this, okay. You are not late. I am early. Em and I can handle ourselves. Now, go finish your hair and find your other shoe, and make Jay-Jay's hair presentable. I've got this."
Haley let out a breath of relief, "Okay. Thanks, Tigg. We'll be done soon." She said, looking slightly more relaxed.
"We got it, momma!" announced Emma proudly. Brooke high-fived her, "Go, Hales." She said, "I'll finish getting Emma ready."
"Don't gotta offer twice," Said Jake, pulling Haley back into their bedroom, calling out, "Owe ya big time, B." before closing the door.
Haley couldn't help but think she owed Brooke more than she could ever put into words. In fact, she wasn't sure they'd be graduating right now if it weren't for her. Being ready for the baby in theory and being ready for the baby in practice had been far more different than either Haley or Jake imagined.
Jake couldn't quit the basketball team because he needed the scholarship, and he couldn't quit his job because they definitely needed the money. His schedule was packed: classes by day, work and practice in the afternoon, home (which meant taking care of Emma and studying in between feedings) at night.
Haley's GPA couldn't drop because then she'd lose her scholarship, but she did quit the cheer squad. It worked out better to not pay daycare, plus they couldn't exactly swing that on their budget. She spent the day at home, classes late at noon or at night, and studying whenever she could find the time for it.
-xx-
It was sometime after 3 a.m. (or at least that's what Haley was guessing), and Emma had been crying nonstop.
Having a colicky baby gave a whole new meaning to the term Hell Week.
Jake was running on twenty minutes of sleep, cheap Folgers coffee and lot of Red Bull. Haley on the other hand was still breastfeeding, and therefore avoiding caffeine even though her body was screaming for it.
"Honey, I give up," Jake groaned, "I don't care if I flunk out, right now, I'd sell my soul if Em would fall asleep for a half an hour just so we can get some shut-eye." He was pacing around the kitchen, crying Emma in his arms and a milk-bottle in his hand. His Ethics book was opened, but unused on the counter. "C'mon, Sweets," he pleaded, "Stop crying for Daddy, huh?"
Haley was sitting on the living room floor in front of the coffee table. Her glasses were slid down to the bridge of her nose, her hair (which she hadn't washed in a week) was thrown up in a tangled bun, and she'd chewed through ten pen-caps already. "We can't give in. I have to finish this paper, and you have to finish reading up for that midterm—and Emma will stop crying eventually." She said, her fingers typing at the speed of light as she spoke. "I'll take her in fifteen, and then you can finish up. Maybe we'll sneak in a ten minute nap."
"Right..." Jake wasn't feeling particularly hopeful at that point.
It was then that the apartment's door opened with a bang. Brooke and Rachel burst in like two energy tornadoes, eco-friendly grocery bags in their hands.
"Hey! We are here to save you," Brooke greeted as she walked into the kitchen and took Emma from his arms, bouncing her against her chest. "We brought you the Midterm Survival Kit: a box of Red Bull, a thermos of fresh brewed coffee, and an assortment of candies for that sugar-induced high." She explained, "We'll take Emma for a full 24 hours. Give you guys time to finish up, take a nap—"
"And a shower..." muttered Rachel under her breath as she unpacked the stuff onto the kitchen counter.
Brooke glared at her, "And just time to recharge batteries." She finished.
Jake and Haley exchanged skeptical looks. Despite being sleep-deprived, they weren't sure about leaving their daughter for a full twenty-four hours. "Look, we're done with midterms, and you guys need a break. We can handle it—we strapped the car seat in my Denali, we got milk-bottles, pacifiers, blankie—"
"—purple monkey!" Brooke cut in with a dimpled smile as Emma laughed with the monkey. "We can drive around with her until she falls asleep, and we'll watch her like a hawk when she is sleeping. You guys need this..."
Haley groaned, "Ugh, who am I kidding. They're right—we need this." She admitted, "Are you two sure you're up for this?"
Rachel slung the baby-bag over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out playfully at Emma, "Chill." Brooke and Rachel did their lame-jock-fist-punchy thing, "We got this."
Jake and Haley looked at each other doing their whole conversations-without-words thing. After a few seconds, Jake nodded, "All right," he said.
"We'll owe you guys forever for this one." Haley grabbed a few extra milk-bottles from the fridge and handed it to them, "Seriously."
"No you don't." Brooke assured them, "It's what family does."
Rachel nodded, "We got your back."
That night, Jake and Haley pulled what they'd come to describe as the worst all-nighter of their lives, knowing that they wouldn't have made it through without Brooke or Rachel.
And Brooke and Rachel learned that they were actually really good with babies, which was kind of surprising.
But even more surprising was the fact that the drunken frat boys were also very good with a baby girl.
-xx-
Jake and Haley disappeared into their bedroom, and Brooke chuckled, "Your parents worry too much, kiddo," she grabbed a paper towel and dampened it in the sink to wipe away the Kool-Aid off Emma's face. Then, she combed back her hair and retied her ribbon. "There ya go," she announced, satisfied with her work, "You look beautiful, Em." The little girl rewarded her with another hug.
The front door opened once more, this time Rachel walked in. At the sight of the redhead, Emma squealed, "Rae! Rae!" And to that day, Rachel still felt a note of pride that her name fit so perfectly into the mouth of a toddler—more specifically, that toddler.
"Hey, goober," Rachel greeted, high-fiving Emma and kissing Brooke's cheek. "Hey, B, ready to go? I've got the car, the tickets, and the caps and gowns." Jake and Haley came out dressed, this time with everything in place, "We're ready. We're ready." Declared Haley.
"You guys look hot!" exclaimed Rachel, "Oh, by the way, Luke and Duke are waiting for you at the Phi house, remember, Jake?"
Jake nodded, "Yeah, and if we head out now, I might make it on time for a change." The Phis were all meeting up at the house and heading down to the ceremony together. "Oh! Before I forget, hun, I need your key," said Jake as he pulled one out his own key ring. "And while we're at it, I need your keys, too." He added motioning towards Brooke and Rachel.
Rachel and Brooke pulled out their In-Case-of-Emergency-Only keys and handed them over to Jake. "God, I can't believe you guys aren't going to live here anymore." Rachel said, "This was like...home."
They'd celebrated birthdays and anniversaries, spent Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner huddled around the fire, witnessed Emma's first steps, first words. That three-bedroom apartment had been home to a lot of great memories.
"Aaaaaw!" came an elongated coo from all three women as they embraced in a big bear hug.
Jake said, "Save the tears for later, girls. We gotta go." The girls all exited the apartment. Jake stood at the door and took a final look. He sighed and kissed the side of his daughter's head affectionately—he still remembered bringing her home from the hospital. A part of him couldn't believe this wouldn't be the home they'd be coming to anymore. "This is it," he told her, "Say bye-bye, Emma."
Emma smiled at him, "Bye-Bye!" she said enthusiastically clapping.
This prompted Jake to chuckle. "I love ya, kiddo."
It was time to graduate.
-xx-
Sunday
Phi Delta Theta House
From the moment he'd gotten married and his daughter had been born, Jake Jagielski had been 100% committed to being a good father and a good husband. Everything else moved to second place. This included his fraternity. And while his brothers had certainly never held it against him, they'd missed having him around full-time.
Now they were graduating, and the Pledge Class of '11 from the Phi Delta Theta house had decided meet up one last time, and head down to the ceremony together.
On the porch of the old brick Phi Delta Theta house, Duke Orsino had busted out a keg. Sam and Alexander were leaning against the railing, talking over their glory days on the Duke soccer field.
Sitting on the porch steps were Luke and Skills, beer cups in hand. "Four years in the makin', L. Scott," Skills grinned, "Ya ready for this, dawg?"
"What? You mean the uncertainty of graduating after four years of college and still not know just what it is I'm going to do with my life?" Luke shrugged a shoulder, "Yeah, I'm ready."
Jake jogged and sat down next to Luke and Skills. Duke immediately handed him a beer cup, "J.J.!" he greeted, "You made it, dude."
"Last day as official Phi Actives—I wouldn't miss this, bro." Jake replied, unable to keep the nostalgia from his voice.
Though they hadn't all been friends (Luke and Alexander still couldn't get along), they'd always watched each other's back. Keeping the Phi motto—One Man is No Man—alive and well. And now they were all heading off in different directions, with no big house on Greek Row as a safety net.
Logan Echolls pulled up to what had essentially been his home for three years, and smirked at the sight. "God, you losers!" he yelled at his brothers as he made his was towards the house. Even with his Ferragamo suit, the former Head of House still proudly wore his blue-and-argent tie perfectly knotted around his neck. "I'm gone for a whole year, and you're all still kicking it in this fuckin' porch!"
They all laughed as they exchanged the cursory manly half-hugs and patted each other's backs. It'd been far too long, really.
But it wasn't until the sight of a tiny blonde that Luke grinned. "Ronnie!" he pulled her into a hug, picking her up and swinging her around as if she were a little kid. "You made it!"
Veronica Mars flashed him a smile, "Couldn't miss your graduation, Luke," she said, "Plus, you know Brooke and Rae would kill me." A loud snore caught their attention and they spotted Dick Casablancas passed out on the swing porch wearing only a pair of tighty-whities. Veronica merely shook her head, "Wow, some things really never change."
Logan bumped a fist with Duke and nodded towards his car, "C'mon, I got the truck right there," he said, "You're gonna miss graduation if we don't get a move on."
Veronica noticed that Jake and Luke were still sitting on the porch steps and tugged Logan along, indicating him to hush up. "We'll give you guys a minute," she called out to them.
Jake and Luke clutched the beer cups in their hands and looked out at the front lawn. Truth was they were leaving a whole world behind, a place that had seen them grow up (at least in most ways), but mainly a place that had kept the two best friends together. And they'd been friends their whole lives—from pre-school through college. And now they were gonna go off to different places.
Jake pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, "Hey, here you go," he handed Luke a picture of Emma, "Latest picture. Em wanted to be sure her favorite uncle got a copy for his wallet."
"Aw," Luke cooed, staring at the picture for a minute. The only woman he loved as much as Brooke was his goddaughter. "I've got the best goddaughter in the world, man."
At the mention of Luke's role as godparent Jake merely scoffed. But Luke smiled, remembering the day of the christening.
-xx-
It was sometime after midnight and Luke was just about ready to settle in for the night—tomorrow was baby Emma's christening and he was the godfather. He'd never been one before, but he figured that it was a pretty big deal and shit. Also, Haley had made a number of threats about what would happen to him if he wasn't there both presentable and on time.
Luke had no intention of disobeying any of Haley's wishes—he'd even passed up tonight's Pi Sig Graffiti party.
Until Brooke Davis knocked on his bedroom window. "Open up, Boyfriend!" she beckoned, "I've brought party favors." She climbed in through the window, a bottle of Scotch of all things—Glenlivet.
Luke tried to reason with her: they were twenty-one now, supposedly adults. They were the baby's godparents. That was supposed to be some big responsibility or something.
All his arguments fell flat, of course, once Brooke unzipped her hoody and revealed an obscene amount of cleavage. It had sounded innocent enough at first. They'd down a few glasses and get a little tipsy. Just to liven up the christening tomorrow—after all, Jake and Haley had insisted on turning the possibly kick-ass party into a prissy, buttoned up affair.
They hadn't even gotten booze, for crying out loud!
So, they'd have a few sips now so they could have something to entertain themselves with at was sure to be a boring ceremony tomorrow. They weren't religious people. They sure as hell weren't church people. Neither had ever actually attended a christening before. But it didn't exactly sound like a rager.
It was somewhere after the fifth cup (and only they would drink $100 Scotch out of Solo cups) that their clothes came off.
By that point, they'd both lost count of how many times they'd fucked each other. (It was probably in the triple digits, though.)
They were naked and sweaty, chests heaving as they lied on the floor (why was it that they rarely made it to the bed, anyways?). Brooke was lying on top of him, her fingers tracing circles along the warm skin of his chest. Her chocolate colored bangs were mated onto her forehead and her ruby-red lipstick was faded (spread across his face, neck and chest most likely), and he really did think that she'd never looked more beautiful.
Brooke noticed he was staring, "What are you doing?"
"I just wanna remember this." Luke pressed his mouth against hers, her lips opening to grant easy access. "Everything."
The brunette raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow, "That was…"
Luke grinned proudly, "It was."
And then he'd started doing it again—the staring—and it was getting weird now. "Seriously. What are you doing?"
"Remembering this." The answer prompted Brooke to chuckle, and Luke smirked, "You love me. Admit it." He conveniently left out the fact that she'd admitted it plenty of times before now—actually, he particularly enjoyed hearing her scream it as she came, which had become a habit of hers.
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, but Brooke just said, "You're a cocky son of a bitch, Scott."
Luke licked his lips, "Also true." he conceded, slightly amused by the whole exchange.
"I'm still in love with you." Brooke surrendered, "Even if you are a little pussy-whipped now."
Luke shrugged it off, "Yeah. So long as it's your pussy I'm whipped for, right?" The answer prompted a fit of laughter from the couple. Yeah. They'd definitely be great godparents, and excellent role-models.
They'd arrived late at church the next morning. Their attempt at sneaking in had failed pathetically. Haley nailed them first with an abridged version of the responsibility speech. Then Jake pulling Luke away to call him a douche and wail on him for being late to this. Haley had started interrogating them about why they were late, and just as they were about to answer, the honey-blonde noticed: the glow on Brooke's cheeks, the 'I-just-got-laid' hair atop Luke's head.
"SHHHH!" Haley raised her hands at their face-level, pressing the tips of her fingers to her thumb and indicating them to hush up. "We are in church! I don't want to hear about it. It's disrespectful."
Amid a fit of giggles, the illustrious godparents took their places at the front of the service, Brooke proudly carrying baby Emma in her arms. Jake and Haley stood at their sides beaming in that 'we're-ridiculously-proud-parents' way, and Emma Camille James-Jaglieski got christened.
Still, to that day, Jake and Haley still held their behavior at the christening over Brooke and Luke's head.
Luke had a feeling that the statute of limitations was never going to run out on that one.
-xx-
Jake shook his head, "Dude, don't even—you and B were something else at that christening party. I don't even wanna think about it."
"Fine," Luke chuckled, "Your call. Onto a new subject: are you guys ready for the move? I know Hales is excited about the new job. How's Emma taking it?"
"Well, we're all set. Em's really excited about getting on a plane for the first time..." Jake let his voice trail off. He stared at his hands took a final pull from his beer cup.
Luke could see the signs of tension easily, "Man, c'mon—you got into Stanford Law. Before you know it you're gonna be lawyerly kicking ass."
"That's the point. Stanford—NoCal. I'm uprooting my whole family. I'm freaking terrified here. That's a pretty big thing, man. I can't shit it up." Jake licked his lips, "I can't live with disappointing them."
Luke laid a hand on Jake's back, "Not possible." He assured him, "Haley loves you, she's your wife—she'll stand by you through anything. And Em...god, you're that little girl's hero. As long as you continue to love her and be the kick-ass dad you are you'll never let her down. If there's someone I'm not worried about, it's you. You always pull through, Jay. You're a survivor."
"Survivor, huh?" Jake chuckled, "C'mon, man, lets go face the future. I know you've got B waiting for you, and I've got two perfect girls counting on me. And you're right about one thing—I'd never let 'em down."
-xx-
Sunday
West Campus
Duke University
Brooke, Rachel and Haley graciously walked towards the West Campus and finally sat down on a bench, careful not to mess up their caps and gowns. Today, the smiles on their faces appeared to be indelible as giggles continued to pour from their lips.
The brunette's petite hands shook the Dom bottle as they popped off the cork. The honey-blonde mother shrieked as the bubbly liquor poured down her best friend's fingers. The stopper flew off, bouncing off the head of the James B. Duke statue. This only served to elicit more laughter from the threesome.
The redhead wasted no time in standing up, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig. "I am absolutely certain that this is what our university's founder had in mind when he thought of higher education!" declared Rachel laughing.
Haley took the bottle next and tossed her head back, downing a big gulp, and effectively surprising herself and her friends. "Oh, God!" she exclaimed, laughing, "I shouldn't be getting tipsy. I'm a mother. I'm a college graduate. I'm...supposed to walk in these five-inch heels without tripping!"
Brooke grabbed the bottle, "Live a little, Teacher Mom," she said, "We are graduating. And today you are not just a mom or a wife or a responsible adult, you're a 22-year-old celebrating the end of an era. Cheers—to four years of laughter, tears, and alcohol."
They each took a sip, "And classes...at least occasionally." Added Rachel with a grin, prompting another fit of laughter.
Once more, they settled down on the bench and stared at the horizon. The gothic styled Duke Chapel was visible from pretty much anywhere on campus. It dawned on them that this was probably the last time they'd have a moment like this.
Haley sighed, "To...the end of something." She pressed the bottle to her lips and took another big gulp and passed it to Rachel, who did the same.
"Well said." Brooke answered simply before taking the bottle from her friend's hands and downing what was left of it.
-xx-
Sunday
Sarah P. Duke Gardens
Duke University
The inspirational, long-ass Commencement Speeches had been given. Tassels had moved onto the left side. Caps had been thrown. Duke University's Class of 2014 had been declared officially Graduated.
But more importantly: Lucas E. Scott, Brooklyn P. Davis, Clayton R. Evans, Nathaniel R. Scott, Rachel V. Gatina, Jake N. Jaglieski, and Haley B. James-Jaglieski graduated.
Friends had stood up for them, cheering them on the big day and momentous accomplishment. Unsurprisingly enough the only parents to show up were the ones nobody particularly wanted to see: Dan and Karen Scott (though Karen wasn't all that bad, except for the whole screwing-Keith-Scott-on-the-side thing).
The James were trekking somewhere in America—though Lindsay James-Morello did come down to sit with Emma while her parents graduated. Bradford Evans didn't particularly give a shit. The Gatinas (or rather Addison Montgomery and Derek Gatina since the divorce) were too busy with work. Kenneth and Victoria Davis were surprised their daughter had graduated, but they had their secretaries send the obligatory checks—which Junior Davis happily delivered since he was immensely proud of his little sister. Mr. Jaglieski was pretty sick by then and he couldn't make it.
The Scott Boys had done good—at least in Dan Scott's book. His oldest son was dating billionaire Kenneth Davis' only daughter. His youngest son had been drafted by the NBA, scoring a contract with the LA Lakers. His only daughter—Peyton Scott—would graduate next year.
Both Nate and Luke breathed a visible sigh of relief when their 'rents got into their SUV and drove away—thank fuckin' god.
The group of friends stood around, togas open and caps misplaced, taking their last pictures at the Duke Campus. All the classics—the group picture, girls only, boys only— and the family pictures—the Scott brothers, the Jaley+1, the godparents with their goddaughter, Brooke and Junior, and also Brooke and Clay (because those two were siblings and soul mates, and more intricately entwined than could ever be explained).
Brooke threw her arms around Luke's neck and pecked his lips (Haley snapped another picture for posterity). "Can you believe we made it, Broody?"
Luke smiled at her (which was rare, since he usually smirked) and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "I always bet on us, Pretty Girl," he said, his blue eyes piercing her hazel ones, "You know that."
"I love you, Lucas Eugene Scott." Brooke's dainty hands clutched him tightly, as if she were afraid to let go.
"I love you, too, Brooklyn Penelope Davis." Luke's visibly more relaxed. They hadn't talked about it. Not really. The future was the big elephant in the room, and it was far easier to avoid it than face it.
"Luke..." Brooke prompted, "What are we gonna do now? I mean, I'm...I've been thinking about heading back to New York. I've got a bunch of designs, and I've been trying to drum up some investors. I don't know, I think I can make it. I can be a one in a million. And it feels like this is my time." she sighed, "But we haven't really discussed the future, not really. All we've done is tap-dance around the subject like crazy. And I don't want to leave us. I don't-I don't want us to be over. I'm not ready for that."
Luke pressed a kiss to her temple and laughed. This seemed to annoy Brooke. The tiny brunette's fist slammed into his ribcage causing him to wince. "C'mon!" she whined, "This is not funny! We're all just going different places. Rae is taking off all on her own to go to B.U. Med School, and Jaley +1 is going to move to NoCal, Clay is dumping me to go represent Nate in LA...and I can deal with that. But I can't deal with us leaving each other." she pulled out a plane ticket (one-way to JFK) from an envelope. "Junior gave me this. He wants me to move back to the city."
"Well, what'd you tell him?"
"I told him that wether I moved back or not wasn't a decision I could make alone. Not without talking to you." Brooke answered, "Because I'm not just blindly looking out for myself anymore. I'm one half of a full relationship. And I actually like it that way."
Luke smiled earnestly, "I think you should go." he answered, "I think you should move to New York—"
"—Luke."
"Let me finish." Luke licked his lips. "I wrote a book, a novel, actually. It's called Impulse. I've been sending it out to publishers for a couple of months now. Someone answered yes. They want me. So, today, I was actually planning on asking you to come to New York with me. Because when all my dreams come true, the only person I want next to me is you." His thumb brushed off some of the tears that had started pooling at the corner of her eyes, "And because I know Clothes-Over-Bro's is going to be a huge success. And I want to be there with you every step of the way. If you want me to, that is."
Brooke gripped his tie and pulled him down, their lips crashing against each other, melding together like clay. Luke was surprised, but leaned into the kiss happily, lifting her and pressing their bodies together until there was no space between them. "Yes." Brooke answered when they pulled apart, "Yes! Oh my god!" she squealed, "You wrote a book! I can't believe you didn't tell me that, Broody!" she slapped his chest, "I am so ridiculously proud of you right now."
"I'm actually proud of us—do you realize that today is our two-year anniversary. Not in sissy way, but in a we-made-it-through-this-without-any-major-drama way. We are actually a stable relationship."
Brooke smiled. "Yes. We are."
They'd made it through a lot—through far more than any other college couple ever would've made it through. Sure, at most points they'd been their own worst enemies, sabotaging their relationships at most corners. Mistakes were made. Hearts were broken...
"Auntie B!" cried Emma from Haley's arms. Brooke grabbed Luke's hand and pulled him over to where their friends were standing waiting for them. Emma jumped into her godmother's arms and kissed her cheek. Luke circled his arms around the brunette's waist stuck his tongue out at Emma playfully, eliciting more giggles from the toddler.
Haley smiled at the sight, "C'mon. I feel like getting some food."
Nate smirked his infamous Scott smirk. "How about Al's," he suggested.
This prompted a chuckle from the group. Rachel jumped up on Clay's back, "You think we go there too much?"
"Not at all," Clay shook his head, grinning his best lopsided grin, "Seriously, though—for closure or whatever...one last time?"
"Closing time, one last call for alcohol!" Jake singsunged, mimicking the Semisonic song.
Luke shoved him playfully, "Sure. Lets do it."
He wrapped an arm around Brooke's shoulders, and Brooke grabbed linked her fingers through his, "Well, I know who I want to take me home."
...and somewhere along the line, families had been formed. A bond between these seven people that had maintained old friendships and birthed some new ones. A hard-to-resist hold that pulled them to one another.
Something that felt...unbreakable.
-xx-
AN: So. This is it. The End. I've thought about a sequel—life after college and all that. Then I thought I'd finish out my other story and retire as a writer. Then I realized I don't make decisions easily so I just don't fucking know. Feel free to comment with any thoughts on the subject. It's been a great ride, homies. Shout outs below...
Thank Yous: SouthernBellBrooke (first one to ever review this story), bella, juicetroop82, Brucas10, Otumoshi, Hannah, BrucasisBest, brucasbunny76, brucas ftw, Lovemesomedamon, dianehermans (an always hopeful BLer who always rooted for them), OTH-Brucas-love, BRUCAS-EQUALS-LOVE, BRUCASFTW, brucasfanatic, Brooke. Davis. Fan, Brooke. Davis. Fan., TrueLoveScott, Upcoming Star, Julchen1515, Raptus Mind (your reviews have always inspired my lazy ass to work on this story), perfectcouples, BrookeLucasForever, kayluhh2010, redcoloredrose, PolarOpposites, Alison Ireland, britt, p0line, supergirl818, Josh (never thought guys would be reading this), pam (you also kick my ass into gear with your reviews. i owe you a much bigger thank you, but—ironically—the words elude me right now), brittany, X, Brucas Reviewer, Lo, whoyouarexo, xXalienatedXx (another person whose words always give me some extra inspiration), SOHA ASALAMI (a reader from London, which is awesome), abigail, hjb13, onlyyoujarly, sarah e ('cause you seemed to catch every minute references in the chapters), kay0340 (who went back to the beginning to read it all over again), Ally, Sara (your comments always cheered me up), .Xo, ILoveSarahSophia, koumi11 (aka artemi, 'cause she kinda loved clay in this fix), Mel, fggt16, fallenasleep, BrucasisBest, NicoleDavis92x, loveBLforever, Oth-VD, Nan, clauita, brucas82forever, brookenlucas4eva03, 1treehillislove23, brucasbunny76, miserella (an LP-shipper who read this, at least a little), cheerygirl333, emmasue2009, evan 84 (who also had an eye for the details in this story), alysef (thanks for always telling to take my time), Alex (dude always kept it real), craxygirl54, D (who called me a douche—i promise the BOV update is coming), superstar, emmasue2009, The Pris, JustReckless, Ashybee,viky, allison, and I'm sure I forgot some people (feel free to call me out about it if you review), but EVERYONE added something to the story, so major thanks and much love to you all.
—j