"Love is an excuse to get hurt." Bright Eyes

Dear Lucas,

Recently, I've been having these strange dreams. The most random things imaginable. In the last one, you were chasing me down by the beach, and when you caught me, you lifted me off the ground and told me I was the one in front and then threw me into the water. I spent a few minutes guessing at what it could mean, but all I came up with were lyrics to The Beatles' "Hey, You've Got to Hide Your Love Away." Damn Peyton.

I think I'm infatuated with you. There is and always will be a difference between infatuation and love. The idea of you is amazing to me, just because you're so smart, and funny, and sweet, and you mean so well, and I can remember how perfect your hands felt on my waist. I don't know how to love you. I can't love someone across the country from me. I don't believe in it. I'm in love with the idea of you. That has to be it, or else I'm completely insane.

When I get back, I need you to promise me that you won't lead me on. I don't care about any of it, you can throw anything at me, and I think you know that. I don't want to be thrown into something we're not ready for, because that's what happened last time. And while I've spent forever teaching myself I'm over it, you have no idea how in love with you I was. How willing to do anything for you I was. Feelings like that don't go away, and you don't get over them. Even when I was with Felix, I could remember them as clearly as my name. That's another thing I don't believe in. Overcoming emotions. They always seem to come back to me in the end.

Love forever,

Brooke

Lucas folded it back up and put it into the envelope it came in, touching it to his chin. Her closings seemed to get him stronger than her random confessions and revelations. They were getting increasingly more like a girlfriend. For her to go from the infatuated school girl that came through her letters to the wary, sexy player she was when he'd first talked to her was unbelievable.

He heard a knock at his door, and said come in before his mom had the chance to be angry with him again. Quickly, he bent over to shove the box with returned letter under his bed. As he sat back up, he got toppled over onto his back sideways on the bed. Brooke kissed him urgently, and she had gotten his shirt off before he'd actually recognized her face. The way she kissed him was unique, however, so as soon as he had found her lips, there was no longer a doubt in his mind.

With more force than he knew she possessed, Brooke turned them over, holding onto his necklace as she rolled. He landed roughly on top of her, and he could feel its effect on her in the back of her throat.

"Turn off the light," she commanded, pushing him off of her. He obeyed and came back slowly before Brooke yanked on his necklace again, bringing him back to her.

"I'm still mad at you," she mumbled, stripping her sweatshirt over her head. "So you better be quick."

He thought of a response in his head, but didn't dare answer her due to the rush of blood in his head.

"And if you mention the name Rachel once tonight, I'll have no regrets with kicking you in the balls." She shoved him to the side of her and wrapped her arm around his neck to get better control.

"I thought you didn't want to be used for sex," he said as he massaged her thigh.

"I don't. Tonight, I'm using you."

And that was all the explanation she deemed necessary, for she was taking off her pants as she said it. His hands were as quick as she demanded of him, smooth skimming across her thighs, her waist, a brief pause at her breasts, then continuing down to her panties. He decreased his pressure when he reached her delicate skin, but she pushed down on his hand against the thin, silky fabric of her underwear.

"What was it that inspired this change of thought?" he asked when she broke for breath.

"You let her kiss you again. When we got sixth." She turned her head back to his collarbone, her hands doing their own groping below his belt.

He inhaled sharply, but tried to keep his voice steady. "What?"

"When we got sixth, she was upset and you hugged her. Then, you let her kiss your cheek," Brooke said, slightly annoyed as if he should've known already.

Lucas paused his hand for a second and looked at her quizzically, wondering what his reaction was supposed to be.

"I'm sorry?"

Brooke shrugged and pulled his head back down to her with her hand. She kissed him like he kissed her at the game, as hard as it seemed possible. It wasn't romantic, and it wasn't tender; it was just there. Lucas tried to ignore it as she removed his pants and boxers, but no matter how much of a rush Brooke was in, she always used to mean her kisses. She hadn't forgiven the visual of him and Rachel embracing, which satisfied Lucas in the way she had mentioned being satisfied with him cheating on Peyton.

Then, suddenly, Brooke gripped him hard, and whispered, "What does she mean to you?"

Lucas gave up his hope of being manly and gasped. "What?"

"Rachel. What do you want to happen with her?"

"Nothing. She's not my type."

"What? The whole slutty, seemingly easy, into you cheerleader?"

"No. Not you."

Her hand loosened his grip, allowing him control of the sounds he made again.

"Will you ever forgive me for what happened?" she asked in the voice he imagined when he read her letters.

"I wanted to be exclusive with you. I wanted you to be the one. And you took away my last shred of hope."

"Will you forgive me?"

He looked at her beneath him, her eyes asking him the same question on her lips.

"I don't know," he said, leaning away from her, sure of her departure. He hadn't provided the right answer and she was going to punish him for it.

But Brooke stayed still, nodding to herself. Then without the passion and lust she had had before, she reached up and pulled his neck down, sliding her fingers across the side of it. She kissed him with every part of her mouth, her tongue at a minimum, and her hand left his dick for his chest, tracing gentle circles. He knew it, and she knew it; she was trying to make him fall in love again.

Brooke fell asleep as soon as they were finished, which was never common for her. Her one display of tenderness still had him watching her in the dark. Her demand for the lack of lights had broken a bit more of his heart. She wanted him to be faceless, and it was something they both accepted. At the game, he knew she wouldn't stay away forever, but at the competition, he couldn't even catch her eye. Brooke was attempting to get back her shred of dignity and power, and Lucas couldn't get mad at her for it, no matter how badly he wanted to.

The clock alerted him of the passing minutes; she'd been in his bed for nearly two hours. It surprised him mildly that his mother hadn't checked in on him, but it meant he got to watch Brooke without her questions. Her bare shoulder was growing goosebumps, so he pulled his blankets up higher around her. It always made him happy to see her wrapped in his things, his clothes, his arms. It seemed to show that she was his, and all the other guys who stared at her as much as he did knew she was spoken for.

But some guys didn't care. Some guys slept with girls who had spent the entire summer proclaiming a secret love to someone who wanted her more than anything. Some guys could be lucky enough to be the first guy seen. Some guys got to share everything with girls these guys don't deserve. And it wasn't fair.

Brooke rolled over and let out a deep sound from the back of her throat. It slowly occurred to Lucas how beautiful she really was. How she was able to do the things she did to him. How much he wanted to be the nice guy people had expected of him. How much he couldn't be that guy.

Across the room came a soft buzzing. He got up and found a shaking cell phone in Brooke's discarded pants. He looked at the time and felt bad for Haley on the other end. He threw the phone at Brooke and ended up hitting her head. She groaned loudly, but picked up the phone anyway.

"Hello?"

'Brooke? Where the hell are you?"

"What?"

"It's almost midnight. Where are you?"

"Mom?"

"Brooke, it's Haley. Just please let me know if you're going to be sleeping somewhere else, because...well, I mean... I've been worried about you."

"I'm fine. Sorry."

"Will you be coming back before school? Because... if you want to walk to school together... well, we can talk."

"Um, yeah, I will be. I'll be there."

"Are you close by? Because if you need someone to pick you up..."

"I'll be there, Haley. I'm sorry about all of this."

"Oh, don't be. I just wanted to make sure you weren't in some ditch, or, you know, some drugged out rapist's bed."

"I'm fine," Brooke repeated. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For worrying."

"Well... I mean, you're my roommate."

"Uh-huh. Night, Hales."

"Goodnight, Brooke."

Brooke closed her phone and draped her arm back over the side of the bed.

"Don't throw things at me," she said into the pillow.

"Sorry."

"Why were you up anyways?"

"I was in and out. I didn't know you were going to stay."

"Sorry. I guess this one's going to have to be on me."

"Brooke, I don't think you're a hooker."

"Okay. Good night."

Her lack of emotion bothered him.

Lucas's legs cramped as soon as he moved in the morning. He stretched his back forward off the chair. He sat up to a quizzical look from Brooke.

"What?" he asked.

"Why'd you sleep in the chair?"

"Oh... I just didn't want to disturb you."

"I wouldn't have minded."

"Good to know."

"I just... well, I mean, when I woke up I expected you to be there, and you weren't, so I was just... wondering..." Brooke swung her arms nervously and smiled. "All right, well, I'm going to go see Haley, so I'll see you at school?"

"Yeah," Lucas said quickly. 'Yeah."

"Okay. Well..." Brooke leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the cheek, her own blushing furiously. "I'll see you, then."

Brooke reached the door, when Lucas called out, "Are you just going to walk?"

She turned around and shook her head. "I drove here."

"Oh. Right. Okay."

She closed the door and Lucas got out of the room as quickly as he could. He was going to have to wash his sheets when he got home. They smelled like Brooke.

Karen sat at the kitchen table with her hands folded. "So who was she?"

Lucas turned around to face her and tilted his head. "Who?"

"Lucas, I'm not playing games. I'm not asking for you to involve me in your life; I just want to be involved with the comings and goings of his house. Who was she?"

A thousand girls' names came to Lucas's head, but his mouth moved before he could focus on any one of them. "Brooke."

Karen's anger softened immediately. "I thought you two were..."

"We are."

"But you're still...?"

"I don't know if 'still' applies to us, but yeah."

"Oh, Lucas...That's not good."

"I know, Mom. Sex is a big deal, and should only be practiced when real emotions are involved. They don't call it making love for nothing. I know."

"That's actually not what I was going to say. I think there are real emotions involved, and that's your biggest problem. Sex isn't an excuse."

"For what?"

"Being near someone."

Lucas rocked gently on the balls of his feet, his head still.

"Baby, I don't want you to get hurt," Karen said.

"I'm already hurt," Lucas replied and walked to the bathroom.

Haley wrapped her arms as tightly as she could when Brooke got out of the shower. "Don't scare me like that again." She let Brooke go, and stammered, "Not scared, I mean...I assumed you were with a guy, I just didn't know... and I don't know when you met one that you wanted to... I'm glad you're all right."

Brooke smiled. "I'm just going to get dressed, and then we can get going?"

"Sounds perfect."

Brooke walked into their room and smelled her arm. She'd been scrubbing for ten minutes, trying to insure the disappearance of Lucas and his sheets from her body. And it was gone.

Haley linked her arm with Brooke's as they started walking.

"So remind me why we're not driving again?" Brooke asked.

"Oh, well, if you don't want to talk, we can drive."

"Right. Okay, what do you want to talk about?'

Haley took a deep breath, and said, "You."

"What about me?"

"You and Luke."

"What about it?"

"Brooke, you can't let him hurt you. You're not even together, and I know he's killing you."

"I don't know about him 'killing' me."

"I see the way you look at him. Last Friday, at the game? At the competition. Your eyes were all over him. And I know it's not your fault you aren't together, but... he looks at you too."

"Hales, I don't know if, if it were up to me, we'd be together either. Just since Chris, he's been acting so..." Brooke gestured frantically with her hand. "So difficult."

"That's because you hurt him. He shuts down when people hurt him, because he has the huge fear of abandonment. It's probably because of Dan, but ever since I've known him, he decides when you aren't speaking to each other. He has to be in control over every single fight he's in. He doesn't want someone to leave, so he does it for you."

"Do you honestly think we should be together?"

Haley thought about it longer than Brooke was expecting. "Yes."