A/N: I'm sorry. That last chapter seemed totally rushed to me. I'll try to make this one a little more descriptive. Also, I should admit that the title, Reckless Abandon, is the name of an underground newspaper that my friend started in Portland, OR before he went off to Harvard.

o o o o o o o o o

The basement of the house was dark, but it would light up every other second with the rotating strobe light near the ceiling in the corner of the room. There was something about the guy standing in front of me. His unfamiliar face wasn't exactly just that. Though it was dark, I could tell he was tall and good-looking. "That crowd was intense, yeah?" he repeated again. "Yeah," I let the word come slowly out of my mouth. "Do I know you?" he smiled at me with open anticipation. "Um," I smiled at his awkward charms, "I don't think so... What's your name?" "Brock, you?" "Brock what?" "Brock Brown..." The moment he said his name, his face became familiar. I had a short mental flashback to the day at the swings when Teresa got the wind knocked out of her. My childhood crush was standing in front of me and, if I wasn't mistaken, hitting on me. I tried to play it cool, "So, you from around here?" "You mean, am I a member of the frat?" "No, I mean, like, where did you grow up?" "Oh, just a small town, Tree Hill. You?" "No way," I pretended to be surprised, "me too!" "No, you're not." He said it so frankly that even I almost believed him. "What do you mean I'm not?" "There's no way. I'd remember a beautiful face like yours." My face grew crimson with embarrassment and flattery, and for the first time I was thankful it was such a dark room. "Wanna dance?" I remembered Lucas, "Actually, I'm down here looking for a friend..." "I'm sure she won't miss you for a few minutes." His wiggled his eyebrows at me. I smiled and looked around the room quickly scanning for Lucas. I didn't see him anywhere, so I looked back to Brock. "Well?" I scrunched my face and groaned, "As much as I would totally love to, believe me, I really should find my friend." He bobbed his head once, "OK, but if you change your mind, come find me." As I watched Brock walk off, I suddenly became annoyed with Lucas. Where the hell was he?

I was about to make my way back upstairs when I caught sight of him. He was over by the keg talking closely with a girl. Great, I had just declined my childhood crush -- something I never thought I'd even get a chance to do, and for what? I walked over to Lucas pretending to get a beer, like I didn't know him. "Hey, there she is!" He grabbed me by the hips and pulled me against him. "This is my girlfriend, Peyton," he yelled. The girl's jaw became rigid and she stalked off. I turned my face towards him, my back still pressed into him, "She was pretty." "Stop it. I told you I wouldn't leave you alone tonight." I exhaled, "I know. I'm sorry." We stood there for a moment looking into each other's eyes. "Can we get out of here?" He was confused, "What? We've only been here for, like, twenty minutes." "I know. I'm sorry. Never mind." "Peyt?" "Do you have a cup? For the beer?" He raised his hand and I took his empty cup filling it. He took it from me and chugged the whole thing down in five gulps. I quizzed him through a slight smirk. He filled the cup back up and held it out to me. Suspiciously, I followed his actions and gulped it down. We did this each three more times. "Now, we can leave whenever you want, Peyt." I smiled, "Let's dance first." I grabbed his hand, learning from the last time we tried that, I grabbed his other hand and crossed them in front of me, so he was holding my midsection from behind. Realizing what I was trying to do, he firmed his grasp around me, almost lifting me slightly from the ground, and we made our way up the stairs.

Lucas and I were dancing together with reckless abandon. The alcohol had hit us and we were past denying our feelings. I felt a faint tap on my shoulder from behind, but I ignored it figuring it was just someone bumping into me. My body was almost numb from the alcohol, so it was possible. Finally, someone pulled my shoulder turning me around to dance with him. It was Brock. "Hey," he shouted, "I never caught your name." "Peyton, my name is Peyton." "Did you ever find your friend?" "What?" I yelled. "Did you find your friend?" "Oh! Yeah! I did." I turned to look for Lucas, but he was gone. "He was right here." "He?" "Yeah, my best friend, Lucas." "Boyfriend?" "No, best friend." "So, you're single?" "Well, yeah," I added, "technically," but he probably couldn't hear me. "I'm going to go find my friend." Brock grabbed my arm, "He seems to be ditching you a lot tonight. Maybe you should stay here and dance with me?"

I waited until the end of the song, dancing with Brock, before I went to find Lucas. When I didn't see him anywhere, I went outside for some fresh air. I sat the front steps and got out my cell phone. I dialed the familiar number. "Hello?" Brooke asked groggily. "Brookie..." Brooked laughed through her sleep, "Peyton, how's the party?" "Guess who I've been dancing with?" "Hmm," Brooke wondered sarcastically, "Lucas?" "Nope! Brock, Brock Brown." "Shutup! You lie!" Brooke was awake now, for sure. "He looks even hotter now, Brooke," I admitted truthfully. "Oh. My. God. Where's Lucas?" I shrugged, forgetting that she couldn't see me. "Peyton, you still there?" "Yeah, sorry. I don't know where he is. I think he ditched me." "You know he didn't ditch you. You should find him and go home Peyton. You're drunk." "Brooke telling me that I'm drunk? Tables have turned." "Peyton, seriously, find Lucas. As much as I want to tell you to hook up with Brock, it'll crush Lucas." "Yeah right," I scoffed, "He's probably off with some random college girl." "Well, then go find him." Brooke hung up quickly. "OK..." I said into the phone, like she could hear me.

When I closed my phone, Lucas sat down beside me. Like an overprotective girlfriend I asked, "Where were you?" "Somewhere where I wouldn't see you grinding with a guy you don't even know." I looked down a little ashamed, but defensive. "Whatever," I stood up and walked down to the bottom of the stairs. "I've known Brock longer than you." "Brock Brown?" "Yep!" I smiled proudly. "Oh." "What?" I asked, annoyed. He looked up, "Nothing." "What?" I repeated. "I can't compete with that." "Whatever," I said, still defensive, "Like you have to. You've had my heart since we were thirteen." I couldn't look at him, so I turned sideways, rocking a little with impatience. "What?" "God, is that, like, the only thing you could some up with to say?" He rolled his eyes, "Let's go back to the hotel and sleep this off." I quit moving and looked at him, "I don't want to leave." He stood up and walked towards me, "Come on, let's go." He urged me towards the sidewalk. "I said no." Frustration with my attitude and the night's events turned into veiled anger. "I don't care! We're leaving." He roughly grabbed my arm and before I could stop myself, I slapped him across the face. My hand immediately went over my mouth in shock, while his hand went over his face, gently touching where my hand had struck him.

After staring at the ground for a moment, he started walking down the walkway towards the sidewalk without me. "Lucas," I called, "Lucas!" He turned to face me, a mixture of sadness and anger crossed his face, "What," he challenged. I marched over to where he was standing. "God, I just," I groaned with exasperation and irritation. I don't know who moved forward first, but we suddenly found our lips crashing against each other. His hands cupped my bare legs, just under the hem of my skirt. He lifted me up and I put my legs around his waist. Our kisses were hard and tasted like alcohol.

"Well, well, well," we heard from the space beside us. We stopped kissing, but didn't move our lips away from each other.