Disclaimer: I in no way shape or form own One Tree Hill; however I do own Davis Griffin, her mother, and Owen Linley.

Author Note: If you want to have a visual of Davis, look up Lyndsy Fonseca. Or if you want to know what Owen looks like go to and search Zane Holtz.

Chapter Three...

I woke up Monday morning expecting the same pathetically average day that I had been having for the past three weeks. My days consisted of waking, annoying, eating, and sleeping. I thought this day would be no different.

As I walked down the spiral staircase expecting to see Brooke dressed in her La Perla Satin robe sipping on a Mocha Latte I noticed that she was not alone. A familiar head of chocolate brown hair sat next to her on the leather couch. I closed my eyes so tightly that I became dizzy. I squeezed the tighter hoping that she would go away. A bubby rose in my throat and my body tried to cough. I held it in as long as I could, not wanting her to know I was there.

The cough finally emerged and the two beautiful brunettes slowly turned their heads. My mother wore an emerald green Juicy Couture velour jacket. She smiled and Brooke did the same. I watched there signature dimples cave in. I put my hands over my mouth covering the dimples that resembled theirs.

"Davis." My mother called out to me as she slowly got up off the couch. She walked toward me and I told myself not to run away. Thankfully I didn't and she put her arms around me. Brooke raised one eyebrow at me as if she were mocking me. She pulled away from me and studied me. She was acting as if she hadn't seen me in years. Looking back at Brooke she said, "Looks like you are already dressing like your cousin." She looked back at me.

I gave her a half hearted smile and dug my hands deep into my distressed blue jean jacket. Cringing at the words I was about to say, I took a deep breath and said, "Yes well living with someone like Brooke will really change a person." I smiled knowing that what I had just said what exactly what my mother wanted to hear.

Tugging at the low waistband of the James Perse Olive pants that I had borrowed from Brooke earlier that morning, I looked over at her. I walked toward Brooke and sat down next to her. Crossing my legs, I let my Marc Jacobs red ballet flat dangle off my foot. Into my ear she whispered, "The pants look better on you."

I watched her dimples and smiled back at her, "I hope they look okay. I can't exactly see. No contacts."

"I noticed." Brooke said, "Green." She pointed to my eyes and I nodded.

My mother walked into the living room and sat across from me. Brooke stood up, "I need to get ready for school." She headed up the stairs.

"Will you bring down my contacts?" I yelled to her.

"Yes!" She screamed back. I heard her door slam.

The room was silent and the tension between the two of us was so thick that you couldn't cut it with a knife. You would need a chainsaw. Understanding that I didn't have one I realized that I would have to speak. "So how is everything back at home?"

Nodding her head she said, "Good. Your father is rarely home as usual and Kent is home for the week." She paused and ran her hand down her velour pants. Looking up at me she said, "Oh, and I saw Owen Linley. You know Dr. Linley, the plastic surgeon, his son. Well, he asked about you."

The Kent my mother was referring to was my brother. He was a junior at Boston University and for some reason didn't despise my parents the same way that I did. He and I had never been very close. Possibly because I was such a trouble maker and he didn't appreciate the fact that my parents had to pay so much attention to me when I was younger. That meant less attention for Kent.

"Wonderful." I told my mother. Owen Linley and I had gone to school with one another up until last year when I started my performing arts high school. He would never have told me that he was upset when I left, but I could tell. Everyone with in a fifty mile radius of New York could tell.

My mother stood up and I watched her cross her arms. She said, "You know Davis I think he really likes you. I have always thought that. His family is so well off..." She paused for a moment, "Not that money is an issue..."

She continued to ramble on and I found myself praying for Brooke to come down those stairs and take me away from her. I turned toward the stairs and crossed my fingers. Glancing back at my mother, she continued to talk about Owen. The only phrase I caught was, "... and he has those blue eyes. Davis if he weren't sixteen I would date him..." I nearly gagged.

Finally, Brooke emerged from her room looking excellent, but a far cry from her usually everyday fabulous. She wore my favorite AG jeans with a pair of Puma sneakers. Her dark hair was thrown atop her head and securely fastened with a tortoise shell clip. She sorted through her black Kate Spade bucket tote for her keys to the car.

I crossed my fingers behind my back hoping that she would soon find them. I looked back over to my mother who was still talking about the positives of my dating Owen, "...I mean, Davis, do you know what kinds of deals I would get at his office..." She said referring to the fact that Owen's father was my mother's plastic surgeon.

Granted, Owen was an attractive person and I could possibly put aside the fact that when we were five he threw a handful of worms down my pants. I was trying not to hold anything against anyone who did anything to me in my past, well other than my mother. Back to Owen. He had these blue eyes that would make every girl in New York State swoon. His perfectly chiseled cheekbones looked like something his father could have created only with a knife and some collagen. Okay fine. Yes I found him attractive. Found being the key word, but we will get into that a little later.

"Davis." Brooke said. I whipped my head around to see Brooke throwing the car keys at me. "Start 'er up." She said.

"Gladly." I said turning toward the door.

I started the car and moved to the passenger side. Fiddling with the radio, I finally found a mediocre station. I sorted through her glove compartment. Tons of pieces of paper emerged from the small space. Parking tickets, detention slips, and what seemed to be a note. I pulled it out.

Brooke, I know it was wrong and I am here to say I am sorry. I never in a million years mean to hurt you and I know Peyton is sorry too. I don't expect you to accept my apology right now, but I would hope eventually you will. -Lucas

Confused, I threw the paper back into the compartment just in time. Brooke hopped into the car, "You better thank me for pulling you out of the fiery mouth of hell."

"Thanks." I said as I pulled my hair into a low ponytail.

"Oh," She said, "here are your contacts."

"Thank you. Can't go to school without them."

"Yeah people might get to know the real you and we wouldn't that to happen now would we?"

I shook my head, raised an eyebrow and looked back at her, "You're exactly right."

The car ride was silent until we finally pulled into the parking lot. Right next to us was Lucas red truck. He sat waiting for Brooke. She climbed out of the car and was engulfed by Lucas' muscular arms. Into her ear he whispered, "Sorry about Friday night. I just wasn't in the mood to go out. I was upset that we lost." He pulled away and said, "You understand, right?"

Brooke nodded and he kissed her on the forehead, "I totally understand."

A smiling Lucas put his arm around her waist. "Hey Davis."

"What's up Lucas?"

"Nothing. Preparing myself for another fun filled day at the always wonderful Tree Hill High."

I smiled at his comment and started to speak but was interrupted by Haley. She intertwined her arm with mine. "Ready?" She asked me.

"As ever."

We walked into school and down the hallways. People were continuing to whisper. "Don't worry. They will eventually get bored with you and move on." Haley said as she ran her fingers through her hair.

"When will that be?"

"When ever someone new comes and takes your place as the talk of the town."

I smiled and she did the same. Nathan pulled her away from me. "What happened with you last night?" I overheard him ask her.

She looked back at me and whispered to him, "Do we have to talk about this here?"

Looking down at the ground, he sighed and said, "No, fine. Later. But we really have got to talk."

"Fine." She said under her breath as we started to walk away.

"Everything okay?" I asked her sincerely worried.

She nodded, "Yeah, perfect." She smiled at me. I could see right through her translucent smile. She was lying. Nothing was perfect. If she expected me to believe her she had another thing coming.

"Ya know Haley, we may have just become friends and I may only be fifteen, but if you ever need anyone to talk to..."

"I know, I know." She looked at her watch and quickly changed the subject, "You're going to be late for class." She pushed me toward the door of my English class.

"I won't be late my class is right here," I said pointing to the door.

"Okay fine. Then I am going to be late." She started to run down the hall, "I will talk to you at lunch." She yelled.

I walked into my classroom and found my seat behind the girl with braces and what seemed to be orange hair. She looked me up and down. Once I sat, she turned back to me and said, "Heard you went to a party at Nathan Scott's house Friday night."

Nodding I said, "Yeah, that is true."

"I also heard you are Brooke Davis' cousin."

"Also true."

"Oh yeah, I heard one more thing too."

I was gradually becoming irritated with the quizzical girl in front of me, "What would that be?"

"That you are a slut like your cousin."

I felt my lung fill. I wanted to punch this girl so hard that she would fall over. I took a deep breath, "My cousin is not a slut."

"Whore's stand up for each other." The girl said under her breath as she turned back around.

I grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled it. Into her ear I whispered, "You are going to wish you had someone to stand up for you when I am finished with you." I raised my fist and quickly lowered it to her face. It fit right into the crevice of her eye socket. When I saw the look on her face I knew I was in trouble.

The next thing I knew I was sitting cross-legged in a chair in the principles office wondering how I had gotten there. And then I remembered. I stood up for Brooke.