She Don't Dream For Me
By: caramelo
I do not own One Tree Hill or anything related to it.
Chapter Three: She's Knocked Up
The familiar burning feeling in the pit of her stomach associated with seeing Lucas and Peyton together washed over Brooke. Peyton had her hands all over him, and they were smiling at each other. It looked like they were flirting. Typical. It was enough to make Brooke sick.
(1) "You know I'd tell you two to get a room, but then you've already done that," she said bitterly. Both their heads snapped up in her direction, and she glared at them. She shook her head in disgust. Unable to stand the sight any longer, Brooke grabbed the cheer CD she had came for and walked back out the door.
They're disgusting, Brooke thought as she stormed down the hall. They always act so innocent until you turn your back so they can put a knife in it. They 100 percent deserve each other. The sound of a door opening behind her broke into her thoughts, and Brooke paused momentarily.
"Brooke!" It was Peyton. Brooke began walking again.
"Brooke, we got to stop doing this," Peyton said. She sounded a lot closer now.
"Fine," Brooke snapped. Even the sound of Peyton's voice made her angry now. "I'll stop talking to you, and you can definitely stop talking to me."
Peyton sighed. "Okay. I mean, we're not really friends anymore, are we?"
And something about those words - we're not friends anymore - made Brooke's stomach churn. Even after Peyton and Lucas had shattered her heart, at least a few of the jagged pieces left wanted her best friend back. Except every time she looked at Peyton, she saw the scene on the webcam all over again. "You know," she said out loud, "for a fake blonde you catch on slow."
"All right," Peyton said, defeated, "I tried apologizing to you, and I'm done trying now."
"Good," Brooke spat, "I mean, it's really pretty pathetic."
"Fine, if that's what you want. Fine." Peyton turned on her heel and walked away. (end 1)
Brooke took a shaky breath once she was sure Peyton was out of hearing range. That was it? Peyton was done? Tears sprung to her eyes, blurring her vision. How could she? How could she just give up like that? If Brooke would've been in Peyton's place, she would've never given up. She begged and pleaded and apologized until her voice gave out from laryngitis or something.
Actually, she reminded herself, you would've never been in Peyton's position in the first place. Brooke would never be stupid enough to sleep with her best friend's boyfriend. Especially if he was the father of said friend's baby. But then again, Peyton didn't know that. Nobody did. It still didn't make her and Lucas's actions any better.
It made Brooke so mad. Everybody made light of what the two of them did. After all, she was Brooke Davis. On to the next one and the one after that. How much could it have really hurt her?
A lot, actually. Lucas was the first person she ever let herself really love. Oh, she had tried before with her mom and her dad, but it was hard to love people who were never there. And a bunch of other guys, she had told herself she loved them to try and fill a void, but she had never really felt it. Not till Lucas. What a fool she was.
Brooke took another deep breath, wiped the remaining moisture from the corner of her eyes, and squared her shoulders, heading towards her car. She desperately needed something to take her mind off the disastrous state her life was currently in. Maybe...a shopping trip? New shoes? She had broken the heel on one of her favorite pairs while on a date with…Do not think of Lucas, she instructed herself, or Peyton. That was the whole point. It was time to start moving forward, she thought, as she got into her car and twisted the key in the ignition. Immediately, she was accosted by a wailing country song about lost loves and broken hearts.
"What have I been listening to?" Brooke gasped, horrified. She must have been more out of it than she thought. She quickly punched in one of her presets and relaxed when familiar, upbeat music began playing. She cranked up the volume and rolled down the windows. It was a beautiful day, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to finally enjoy it.
Her smooth drive was interrupted by the only red light she had come across so far, but it didn't matter. The guy who drove up beside her was seriously hot.
"Hey, cutie," she said with a wink.
"Hey. I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of meeting you before," he smiled back. Wow, where had he been hiding?
"Well, I guess we'll just have to fix that, won't we?" she said. "I'm Brooke. And you are?"
"Kyle," he said. "Where ya headed?"
"The mall," she said. She flashed him a suggestive smile. "What a coincidence, right?"
"I'll say," he nodded, catching on, "I was just headed there myself."
"Good, you can tell me how hot I look in all the stuff I try on," Brooke said matter-of-factly. She saw the light turn green out of the corner of her eye. "Catch ya there, boy-toy." She shot him her classic peppy Brooke smile and drove off.
This should be fun, she thought, driving just a little faster to reach her destination. They guy was seriously Abercrombie material. Not like that lame loser high-schooler pretending to be a college student at that party she had gone to a couple months ago. No, he was the real thing.
Brooke checked her rearview mirror and saw him shoot another blinding smile at her. She smirked. "Today is your lucky day, Kyle. You're all mine."
Forty minutes later, in the Express dressing room, Brooke's prediction proved correct. Perturbed passersby heard banging and moans from the dressing room two doors from the left. One seventy-six year old lady was so horrified she summoned mall security.
"Excuse me," a tall, burly man knocked on the door. His face was stern and his tone left no room for argument. "This is mall security. I'm going to have to ask that you please exit the store."
Brooke groaned into Kyle's half bare chest with frustration. They hadn't been doing anything terribly wrong. It had started just like she said - Kyle providing his input on the stuff she picked out. But then that turned into just a little bit of kissing…and, okay, maybe some groping too. Still, why couldn't people just mind their own business? Reluctantly, she retrieved her black blouse from the floor. She was halfway done buttoning it when the security man got fed up with waiting and unlocked the door with a key from the key ring on his belt. Instead of turning away in embarrassment or at least pretending he didn't see her halfway exposed breasts, he simply stared at Brooke in distaste.
"You both need to leave now," he ordered.
"But I wasn't done trying stuff on," Brooke pouted.
"Now!" he yelled.
"Fine," she hissed and stomped past him out of the store, dragging Kyle along behind her. "I won't be shopping there anymore," she said as she looked back at the entrance after finishing buttoning up the last few buttons on her shirt.
"I know, right?" Kyle said. "That totally sucked."
A devious gleam entered Brooke's eyes. "Want to try it in the Gap?"
Kyle grinned. "Definitely. But I am getting a little hungry. How about I wine and dine you somewhere nearby? Somewhere with more fun drinking options than the mall food court?"
Brooke hesitated. She had heard alcohol was bad for pregnant women. Besides, what if wherever they went decided to card her? She didn't have her fake I.D. with her right then. Normally, that wouldn't have really have been considered a problem for her, but with the baby, well, it seemed like everything was a problem.
"What's wrong?" Kyle joked, noticing her hesitation. "Are you, like, knocked up or something?"
Her eyes widened. "No!" she cried without thinking. Brooke regretted it instantly. She had said it too fast, too desperate. Any idiot could've seen through it. What was worse is that he had just been joking around too. She had had no reason to get so riled up.
He sent her a wary look. "Okay," he said slowly, backing away. His eyes scanned the vicinity around them before landing on a buxom, curly-haired blonde with wide brown eyes next to a cluster of benches. Brooke scowled. She was like Peyton with a C cup. "I just remembered about something, umm, something I gotta do," Kyle said vaguely. He all but ran over to the Peyton look-alike.
Brooke sighed. Guys always ran when it came to dealing with any sort of responsibility. Always. They just couldn't handle it. It was like a mental overload for their tiny little brains.
Feeling her good mood quickly dissipating, Brooke headed in the direction of the food court. She was in serious need of a two-scoop chocolate ice cream with cookie dough. She hadn't let herself have one in a while, due to the high calorie content, but she deserved it after today.
Once she reached the food court, however, Brooke's attention was diverted to the cute little pretzel stand not far away. She looked back and forth between the Bruster's and the pretzel stand longingly until she started walking in the latter direction. She hadn't had a soft pretzel in a while either, and they were bound to be healthier, right?
Upon arrival, Brooke was greeted with a monotone, "Hello, what sort of pretzel would you like? We have plain, extra salt, or cinnamon." To her surprise, she recognized the voice.
"Nathan?" she gasped.
"Brooke?" Nathan said, just as shocked. His head shot up.
Brooke tried not to laugh. "Nice job you got here," she teased.
"I need it to help pay for my apartment," he explained with a shrug.
"Oh," Brooke said. She studied him carefully. "So this is what it's like going from daddy's boy to rebel without a home."
"Haha," Nathan said dryly. "Why are you here anyway?"
"Why else?" Brooke said in a "duh" voice and rolled her eyes. "To shop, of course." Before Nathan could retort, she continued, "But my shopping buddy ditched me, and I'm low on money, so I'm thinking you can join me. We can head over to the shoe department where I'll find a killer sale, and if I don't, I flirt with the cashier until he gives me a killer sale, and then we'll head back over here to the food court where you'll buy me a totally healthy salad, so I can still walk in my new heels without breaking them, and then you can resume working at your little stand again but not until after I ditch the healthy plan and you give me a cinnamon pretzel on the house." She flashed him a big smile. "What do you think?"
Nathan grinned, "That sounds like a…"
All of the sudden, a short, snotty-looking kid stepped up. "Scott," he barked, "I thought I told you to get to work!"
"I have been working," Nathan said, annoyed. "And now, I'm on break."
"No, you're not," the kid threatened. Brooke thought she recognized him from around school somewhere. "Not unless you want to get fired." He stormed off, muttering to himself about incompetent workers.
"Sorry," Nathan said and turned back to Brooke. "I'm going to have to take a rain check on that. My boss is kind of a pain in the ass."
"I noticed," Brooke said. "What's his problem anyway?"
Nathan winced. "Apparently, me and some other guys from the basketball team beat him up awhile ago, and he's still got some hard feelings about it."
"I'll say," Brooke said. She frowned. "So I guess this means I'm shopping all alone."
"Guess so," Nathan said, "but if you're quiet about it, I could still sneak you that free cinnamon pretzel."
Brooke shook her head. "Thanks, but no. It just won't be the same."
"Don't guilt trip me, Brooke," Nathan groaned. "This job is bad enough as it is."
"Fine," Brooke sulked. "I don't need you there anyway. You probably don't even have very good taste in shoes."
"You're probably right," Nathan agreed.
"Okay, then," Brooke sighed. "I guess I'll see you around."
"Yeah, see you around," Nathan echoed.
Brooke turned on her heel and walked in the direction of the shoe department. She was too depressed about shopping alone to notice Nathan's eyes following her.
I'll probably find something awesome, Brooke thought to cheer herself up. Maybe those red shoes I've been dying to have are on sale now. I'm sure they are. It was a shallow attempt, but it was working. A smile was already forming at the corner of her lips at the thought of a new pair of heels.
When Brooke arrived at the shoe department, she found that the shoes she had been dying for had indeed gone on sale. It was just her luck, however, that her size had run out.
"We can put in a special order for you, miss," an overly eager saleslady offered.
"Don't bother," Brooke grumbled. "I'll probably come back soon anyway."
"If you're sure…" the saleslady—Brenda, her nametag said—trailed off dubiously.
"I'm positive," Brooke snapped.
Brenda looked affronted. It was with obvious effort that she forced a twisted smile onto her face and said in a barely cheerily masked voice, "All righty, then. Have a nice day!"
"Yeah, whatever, you too," Brooke said and hurried out of the store. Brenda looked like she wanted to stab her.
Her stomach rumbled as she walked. Brooke was suddenly reminded why she had gone to the food court the first time. "God, I've gotta get something to eat," she said to herself. "I'm starving." She came up on the food court again and looked around. Her gaze briefly paused on the pretzel stand.
Nathan did promise me a free pretzel…she thought. But then again, he was probably just saying that to be nice. She'd look pretty pitiful crawling back over there by herself. So the pretzel was out. And the more Brooke thought about it, she was hungry. Her eyes fell on a McDonalds. Perfect, she thought, exactly what I need. She strode over there quickly. "One quarter-pounder, lots of ketchup, large fry, a McFlurry, and a coke," she ordered as soon as she reached the counter.
"Whoa, there," an overweight middle-aged woman with frizzy hair laughed, "save some for the rest of the county." Brooke just glared at her. The woman looked abashed and rung up her order. "Will that be all, miss?" she asked, considerably less confident.
"Yes," Brooke snapped. The cashier flinched.
A few seconds were spent in silence waiting for Brooke's order to be brought up from the back in which Brooke alternated between glaring at the rude woman in front of her and a chipped nail. She could tell the woman was becoming increasingly more nervous. The woman smiled weakly back at Brooke and glanced back in desperation at the kitchen. "One minute, miss," she said to Brooke. She walked back and hissed at the other workers, "What's taking so long back there?"
"Sorry," a voice squeaked, "The McFlurry blender kind of blew up."
"Kind of blew up?" the woman repeated incredulously. She swallowed and walked back up to Brooke. "I'm sorry, but…"
"Just get me an ice cream cone, then," Brooke said impatiently.
"Of course, miss, on the house," the woman said. Finally, Brooke's order arrived on the counter. "Thank you for coming to McDonalds," the woman chirped automatically. "Have a happy day."
Brooke didn't spare a glance back as she quickly found an empty table and spread out her food. "I deserve this," she said, eyeing her burger appreciatively. Eagerly, she took a huge bite.
Not far away, Nathan still had his eyes on Brooke while he pretended to be fixing the napkin dispenser. He was kind of disappointed. He thought she might have stopped by for a pretzel like he invited her to earlier. Instead, there she was, preferring to be all alone eating a burger over hanging out with him. He studied her more closely.
Actually, eating wasn't quite the right word. She was attacking it.
"She's so fucking hot," a wistful-sounding voice beside him spoke up. Nathan jumped, surprised. "Sorry, man," the stranger said, clapping a hand on Nathan's back, "but I noticed you checking out that girl in the black over there, right?"
Nathan turned bright red and began to stammer. "Oh, it's nothing like that. I have a…a…" A girlfriend, you idiot, he berated himself, a girlfriend.
The stranger continued on as if he hadn't heard Nathan. He raked a hand through his brown hair. "I was this close to scoring with her in a dressing room earlier." He shook his head. "Too bad she's knocked up."
Nathan dropped the napkin dispenser with a clatter on the floor. "She's what?"
The guy looked faintly surprised at his reaction. "She's knocked up. You know, pregnant?"
"I know what it means," Nathan said impatiently. "She's just not the kind of girl that would happen to, that's all."
"I didn't think she would be either," the guy shrugged. He squinted his eyes at Nathan suspiciously. "Do you, like, know her or something?"
"Or something," Nathan said faintly. Brooke…pregnant? That was impossible. Right?
"Whatever, man," the stranger shook his head. "I have to go. I got a girl waiting for me." He winked and gestured over to a curly blonde that looked like a stacked version of Peyton. Nathan barely noticed her.
"See ya," he said vaguely in the guy's direction. He didn't even take his eyes off Brooke. A few seconds later, his boss came up behind him, looking very unhappy.
"Did I just see you driving a potential customer away?" he hissed in Nathan's ear.
"So what if I did?" Nathan replied, annoyed. He was so sick of his boss always getting on his case.
"So, now you're working overtime tonight without pay," he said nastily. Before Nathan could protest he continued, "That is, if you want to keep your job." He gave Nathan a distasteful once-over. "And pick up that napkin dispenser."
Nathan gritted his teeth to keep from saying anything else he might regret and kneeled to pick up the dispenser that was now even more broken than before after being dropped. Once his boss had his back turned, Nathan flipped him off. If only he could risk doing that while he was looking. He sure wanted to.
He straightened back up and immediately sought Brooke out again. He stared at her flat stomach uneasily. That guy had to be bluffing, right? Then he brought his gaze back up to where Brooke was happily stuffing her face with fries by the fistful. He shook his head to try and collect his bearings.
"Oh, man," he whispered.
(1)…(end 1) Scene taken from One Tree Hill episode "What Is And What Never Should Be"