Contemplation

Chapter

Effete

AN: I often find my self-falling, most of the time contemplating whether I'm good enough to be writing for readers, but nevertheless I try. I try because deep inside my core I know that in the complex world of writing, I have some place, if not large than small and that brings me hope. I just hope you (my readers) know how much I appreciate reviews, this fic being not all fiction, but some what personal. Thanks…

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April 26th,

There are times when things should work out, but they don't and it leaves one to wonder why time was wasted, praying that it would. The intensity of realization, finding that something that was supposed to work out, in fact hasn't, brings great tribulations and the weakness in all comes out of confinement.

Scott

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Furrowed eyebrows and the essence of mocha-flavored eyes, met slightly weary, ivy eyes. "You got out of the hospital three days ago, are you sure your ready for a group of nosy, harassing teenagers?" Sarcasm seeped from her tongue, but her expression was serious, hands rested at the hips and worry clouding beautiful features.

"Hales, my dear best friend," he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. "You worry too much, you know that?" he cupped her cheeks with his hands, looking into her vivacious eyes. "I want to be normal, okay? If that means a whole bunch of alcoholic, frankly wild, adolescents, to get me back to normal, so be it, right?"

She smiled into his embrace, missing his warmth, shuddering at the thought of him being so cold…in his deathbed. "Okay," she said finally, shaking off previous thoughts. "If you say so Scott, but so help me, if I come to find that your suffering an insipid time, I will have to brand you 'dumb ass' for the rats of your life and if I'm in charge, that will defiantly be a very long time."

He winced, mock pain. "Wow, that's harsh, but I assure you James, I will be back to normal in no time and we could sit in the corner of the party, scowling at every snob that crosses our path; in the mean time, have fun too, okay?"

She responded with a nod, beaming at her re-found friend. "How's your lover girl?"

"She's… strange?" he chuckled, masking his face with confusion.

Haley sighed, grabbing her coat. "Yeah, so much for getting involved with the opposite sex, huh?"

He frowned, playfully pushing her and making his way to the door, "is Nathan that bad that you want to beat his ass and maybe date the extravagant Peyton?"

She opened the door and stepped outside, thought for a moment, mockingly. "No," shook her head, "that's your type, and I would choose Brooke instead."

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"Happy eighteenth birthday Marissa!" she embraced the petite brunette in her arms. "Here," she smiled, handing the girl a gift.

"Thank you Haley, your too kind," the girl smiled sincerely and turned her attention to Lucas. "I'm glad to see your doing well."

He smiled, forcing it slightly. "Thank you, happy birthday," he also handed her a gift box.

"I wonder," she arched her eyebrow, shaking the box and laughing. "Enjoy the party," waving, she bounced away, her curves swaying with every step.

"Are flies healthy for your condition?" Haley looked curiously at Lucas, trying not to smile.

"Huh?" he muttered, turning toward her.

"I didn't think so, close your mouth, Marissa is not your type."

"Why not?" he frowned, pretending he cared.

"She's not any guys type," Haley giggled.

"Is she your mistress?" he asked with a defiant glare.

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"Well, if it isn't Lucas Scott," Brooke sipped on her beer again, pointing to the blonde.

Teresa sucked her teeth, "he's too fine to be with Peyton."

"Whatever," Brooke sighed, "He just got out the hospital, I wonder what he's doing out of the house," she muttered, leaving her friend and approaching him.

"Lucas," she smiled, her usually boldly seductive grin.

"Brooke," he sighed, forcing a smile.

It didn't fail to go unnoticed by Brooke and inwardly she winced. "So, your okay?"

He shrugged, "I'm fine."

She bit her bottom lip, thinking maybe it was wrong to attempt communication in the first place. "I was going to visit you in the hospital, but—" her eyes drifted else where, suddenly everything becoming more interesting.

"Yeah," he cut in, "you didn't have too, and I'm fine."

"Okay," his words cut into her deep, why did she even try? "I'll see you later?" His nod clarified her question and she walked away, cussing under her breath.

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It had been months, of thinking she was both physically and mentally adapted to her new surroundings. Constant parties, football and basketball games, elite adolescents all around, but now she was starting to think otherwise. He made her uncomfortable, not in an annoyingly superfluous way, but in a way she didn't want to feel uncomfortable. She was crazy about Nathan, wasn't she? If she was, why was the sudden irritation of butterflies, streaming around in her stomach, happening? Every time he came into vision? It was palpable that she clearly felt deeply for Nathan, but what exactly was it she felt?

The vibration against her pants caused her to snap out of trance. It read Nathan on the caller I.D

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He took a sip of his water, his imperviousness to liquor made him proud, knowing he couldn't drink it anyway. A trail of pain started to roll through his brain; he held his hand to his head, vision starting to be evidently blurry.

"Lucas?" A soft voice asked; he opened his eyes recognizing Haley's face, before collapsing onto the ground. The sound of faint whispers running through his brain before complete darkness fell upon him.

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"Some one call an ambulance," the brunette called, trembling over her best friends body.

Brooke pushed through a crowd of people, gasping at the site of an unconscious figure laid out upon the cold floor. Her hands shook, but she dialed the number.

"Hello, we need some one over here right now, a boy with a liver disease collapsed."

"Please Ms stay calm, what's the address?" the woman asked on the other line.

"55 Lowelle and please hurry," with that she hung up the phone, bending near Haley, who squeezed Lucas's hand incessantly.

"What the fuck Brooke? There's beer at this party, not to mention, were trying to have fun over here" Tim glared.

Her features grew distasteful as she looked up and she unchangingly scrunched her face. "You're a poor excuse for a boy and we don't have time for this, take your liquor and get lost"

Marissa trembled, "Oh my god," she paced, "Please let him be okay."

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"I'm sorry," the doctor sighed.

The words sent a chill through Karen "Oh my god, is he—," She shook her head violently, he couldn't be.

The doctor frowned, "No, but I'm afraid his liver surgery has failed, it was unsuccessful. His condition is very morbid and I'm afraid he's fell into a stupor, this time I'm not so sure he will wake up, without surgery."

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Just when you think luck has its way of finding you, you realize you were wrong. The blatant effeteness of a circumstance holds more questions that are hard to answer.

L.S

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Short, sorry I wrote it very quick, so please ignore grammatical errors. I know that it's too soon for failure and kind of depressing, but I'm just writing the circumstances almost exact of what happened to my brother. Review please.

Check out my new story Last breath!