Sorry it took me so long to update.  Besides the fact that these past ten days or so have been busy, I've also had trouble getting this chapter out. I reworked it a couple of times before it actually worked.  I hope you like it.

Usual disclaimers apply

            "You okay Nathan?"  Lucas asked, studying his brother the next day.  They were walking down the hall, killing time before homeroom.  Nathan's eye was purple, but luckily it wasn't swollen shut.  "Can you see okay out of it?"

            Nathan nodded.  "I'm okay.  Sore, but okay.  Slept with a heating pad and finished a half a bottle of Tylenol.  Hope it doesn't show up on the next drug test," he said with a wry smile.

            Lucas patted his brother on the back.  "Can you play?"

            "Whitey doesn't think so.  But I told him he couldn't bench me tonight."

            "And he listened?  Since when does Whitey listen to you?"

            "He said he'd think about it and let me know at the end of the day.  But like I said, I'm not sitting this game out.  I'm going to break that record."

            The bell rang and the boys separated, heading to their respective classrooms. 

When the bell rang, announcing sixth period, which was lunch for Lucas, he made a beeline to meet Haley.  But before he could find his best friend, he saw Brooke from the corner of his eye.  She still wouldn't return his calls and seeing her made him realize he couldn't let her avoid him forever. 

"Brooke," he called out.  He ran a few steps, trying to catch up to her.

Brooke stopped and turned when she heard her name.  Butterflies fluttered in her stomach when she realized it was Lucas.  When he got too close, Brooke turned again and started to flee down the hall.  But Lucas was quick and in three long strides he caught up with her and managed to grab her arm.

"Brooke.  Please," he said.  "Please talk to me."

"Not now, Lucas.   Not here," she said.

"Then when?  Where?" he asked, his voice rising.  He didn't want to sound angry, but he felt frustrated.  Why wouldn't Brooke talk to him?  What had he done wrong?

"Lucas, please," she pleaded.

"Brooke, we have to talk.  I miss you."  He moved closer to her so that his body pressed against her.  "I want to hold you."

 "You know this school has a no public display of affection policy.  You might want to put a few feet between you."  Lucas jumped as Mr. Kelly, their Language Arts teacher, put a hardcover book between them, trying to nudge them apart.

Brooke's lips turned up into a smile.  "Then the school should look into changing its policy."  But she took a step back from Lucas, relieved to put some space between him.  His scent made her dizzy, as if she was intoxicated. 

Mr. Kelly laughed and moved on with a small wave.

Brooke was about to escape, but Lucas caught her arm again.  "Brooke, please don't ignore me anymore."

With a heavy sigh, she nodded her head and followed Lucas to the nearest exit.  It was chilly outside.  The air was white as if it was about to snow.  Only a few students scattered the courtyard so it was easy to find a quiet place to talk.  Lucas dragged Brooke behind him, grabbing the nearest picnic table.  Brooke was shivering, so Lucas took off his coat and gave it to her.

"You only have a tee shirt on," she said, hands at her side, refusing to take the coat.

Lucas shrugged.  "I'm not cold."

"Are you sure?" When Lucas nodded Brooke gratefully wrapped the jacket around her shoulders and sat down across from him.  "The tattoo looks good."

"My mom loved it."

"Really?"

Lucas laughed.  "I think she wanted to slap me upside the head."

"But she didn't."

"No.  Her exact words were, 'I won't punish you, because that would be redundant, but if you do anything like that again you won't see light until you're old enough to be a grandfather."

"I don't even think my mother knows I have a tattoo."

"It's not like it's in a very visible place."

"True," she said with a chuckle.

For a moment there was an awkward silence.

"Brooke," Lucas said, leaning forward, taking her hand into his.  "I don't want to sound like an ass, but what did I do?  I thought you were okay with – well – with,"

"Having sex?" she finished for him.  "You're cute when you're uncomfortable."

"I'm serious.  I thought we both wanted to – to have sex."  He didn't know why he couldn't say it.

"We did.  You didn't do anything wrong. It was just –" Brooke took a deep breath.  "When I went home that night I was ecstatic.  I felt like I was floating on air."  She twisted the ring on her finger.  "I took a shower and thought about how your hands felt on my body.  I went to bed and thought I could still smell your cologne on my sweater.  I thought I would have sweet dreams and instead, I had a nightmare."

"A nightmare?"

"It was weird.  You know how it is when you dream at night, images come and go unconnected."

"Yeah," agreed Lucas.

"It started out sweet.  We were together, holding each other, kissing, touching.  And then you started to fade away.  You became all grotesque and sickly.  And then I started to disappear.  I became skinnier and skinnier and then there was a doctor saying I had AIDS.  I know it's stupid –"

Lucas cut her off.  "It's not stupid.  It's real.  I mean I hope it's not real, but it's a real possibility.  We were supposed to wait and we didn't."

"I freaked out.  I guess I thought if I avoided you then it wouldn't be real.  It couldn't happen."

"We used protection.  And the first test came back negative.  It could all be a bad dream."

"Or it could be real.  You could test positive for HIV and I could test positive."

Lucas took Brooke's hands in his and said nothing.  She looked Lucas in the eye and gave him a shy smile.  "Brooke we should be in this together.  You shouldn't avoid me and do this on your own.  You could have come to me."

"I thought it would get better if I stayed away from you."

"And did it?" asked Lucas.

Brooke shook her head.

In the distance, the bell rang signaling the end of the period, but neither of them moved. 

"I love you Brooke.  And the other night didn't go down like I imagined, but I don't regret it.  I only regret we didn't wait to make sure I was okay.  But I'm going to take the test tomorrow."  The words tumbled out of Lucas's mouth.  He squeezed her hands, hoping Brooke would say she loved him too, but not expecting it.  He remembered how Peyton reacted when he told her how he really felt.

Brooke squeezed Lucas's hands in return.  "I love you too," she said quickly.  "But we should get back to class."  She stood and unwrapped Lucas's jacket from her shoulders and handed it back to him.  "You coming?" she asked.

"You just said you loved me and you expect me to go back to class."

"Well, yes.  We're in high school.  That's what the law requires of us."

"Fine.  If you say it again I will go back to class."

"Say what again?"  Brooke walked backwards into the building, her arms outstretched, their fingertips touching.

"Oh, don't make me pull it out of you.  Say it again.  Slowly, so that I can savor every word."

"Which words?" She teased.

"You're being evil."

"I've been called a devil before, but never evil.  But I guess it's pretty close."

"Say it," Lucas insisted, "Or I won't go back to class."

Brooke giggled, a impish smile on her face.  She stood straight and rigid, trying to signal Lucas with her eyes.  It took a moment, but he finally saw her pointing behind him.  He swung around to find Mr. Kelly again. 

            "Now I don't have to be offended, Mr. Scott.  You don't only try and ditch my class."  Mr. Kelly checked his watch.  "You probably can make it to class and still get away with just a warning.  Why don't you try it?  I'm sure Coach Durham would be disappointed if you couldn't play tonight."

            "Okay, I get your drift," said Lucas.  He started walking down the hall, but turned and called out to Brooke, "You'll say it again.  I know you will."

            Keith waited for Dan in his office.  He toyed with the magnetic sculpture on his brother's desk.  He molded it into a bat, the one he wished he had to bash his brother's head in.  He then swung the collision balls and watched them knock each other back and forth.  After five minutes or so, Dan walked in.

            "Hey big brother, what brings you here?"

            Keith stared at Dan's square jaw trying to visualize his fist connecting with it.  He clenched his fist, but kept it firmly in his pocket.  The sight of his little brother had never disgusted him so much.

            "Nathan asked me to come."

            There was a brief silence while Dan studied his shoes intently.  "Is he okay?"

            "He'll live."

            "I didn't mean to—Keith you've got to believe me. I did not mean to lose my cool like that.  He was trying so hard to piss me off and I just let him get the better of me. I feel awful."

            "If you want me to make this okay for you, I won't."

            "That's not it."

            "Then what?" asked Keith, keeping his voice just below a shout.  "You should be in jail for the beating you gave that kid.  You nearly broke his ribs."

            Dan sat down and held his head in his hands.  After a moment he looked up and Keith and said, "You said Nathan asked you to come.  What did he want?"

            "For some unexplained reason he wanted me to make sure you came to his game tonight.  He didn't want you to miss it."

            "He's playing?" asked Dan, barely keeping the incredulous tone out of his voice.  "But –"

            "But you beat him to a pulp?  He has something to prove tonight and he wants you there, so for once in your life do something right by your son."  Keith started for the door and turned to Dan.  "You never know you might have a chance – with both your boys."

            Dan turned to the pile of paperwork on his desk without saying good-bye to his brother.