She Don't Dream For Me

By: caramelo

I do not own One Tree Hill or anything related to it.

Chapter Nine: Can't Be Like This

Brooke's breath caught.

"What did you say?"

Nathan looked alarmed. A horrified expression passed over his face, as if for the first time he realized what he was doing. "Just hypothetical," he stammered. "It wasn't like I actually wanted it."

Brooke leveled a disbelieving stare on him. Surely, he knew better than to think she would buy that. Brooke was anything but stupid when it came to boys. She could read them very well.

Nathan wasn't stupid either. He knew how transparent his excuse was. "Okay," he sighed. "Maybe I did want it. Just a little. But I'm thinking it was just because last night I was confused and tired and frustrated as hell."

Brooke frowned. "That makes sense, I guess."

"Yeah," Nathan said, "but I can't help but still feel guilty."

"Just don't," Brooke sighed. Why did she have to feel so disappointed but what he said? She knew there would never, could never, be anything between them. "Nathan, you and I both know it didn't mean anything. You were confused; I was pissed; it just happened. Let's just forget about it, and save the bullshit for another day, okay?"

Nathan nodded. "All right. Maybe it's for the best."

"It is," Brooke assured him. Somehow, she kept a straight face. "You have to pick your battles, Nate. This isn't one of them."

They paused for a moment at her words. Brooke made a face.

"The whole Socrates philosophical thing doesn't work for me, does it?"

"No," Nathan said, shaking his head with a smile, "It really doesn't. Besides, I don't even think Socrates said that, did he?"

Brooke shrugged defensively. "It could have been. You never know."

"Whatever," Nathan said. A few pauses of silence left the two looking extremely uncomfortable. "So what were you doing before I came?" he finally spoke.

"Sleeping," Brooke said. "Remember? You threw that rock through my window to wake me up."

"Oh yeah," Nathan said. "I'll pay for that."

Brooke rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you already offered. Forget about it."

"No, really," Nathan argued. "I want to."

"But I don't want you to," Brooke said. "I don't need your money."

"I guess that's one thing we have in common," Nathan laughed, "or at least we used to anyway."

"Oh, I'm sure we have plenty more in common," Brooke said absentmindedly.

Nathan cocked an eyebrow, "Like what?"

"We're both hotter than hell," Brooke smirked. Nathan looked surprised and mildly impressed. "What?" Brooke shrugged. "It's the truth. You know it, I know it, and everybody who's ever seen us knows it. I'm not afraid of admitting it."

"You are one cocky bitch, Brooke," Nathan shook his head.

"I would've said the same to you once, Scott," Brooke said. "In fact, I did. A lot. But then, well, Haley changed you." Nathan looked defensive. Brooke waved him off. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing. I'm just saying she did. You're not the same person anymore."

"I thought girls liked nice guys," Nathan said.

Brooke gave him a hard stare. "Some girls like guys just for who he is. Cocky bastard or not."

Nathan cleared his throat. Normally, he'd have some teasing comeback all lined up to defuse the situation, but this was different. He couldn't flirt with Brooke. Not even playfully. Not right now, after all that had just happened between them. Maybe, eventually, he could. In a hundred years, maybe.

Brooke wanted to hit herself. What was wrong with her? Her brain seemed to be shut off lately. The little filter that censored all the stupid things she wanted to say before they left her mouth seemed to be going haywire. She needed that filter. She depended on that filter. Where was it when she wanted it the most?

"So, what are your plans for the day?" Nathan finally asked, working towards diffusing the awkward situation.

Brooke shrugged. "Hang around here, I guess. I'm sure plenty of people are dying to drop by and tell me how pissed they are."

"Sounds like fun," Nathan laughed.

"Been trying to plan something like this all year," Brooke said dryly.

"I should probably leave then," Nathan said. "Wouldn't want anyone to get any ideas..."

"About what?" Brooke challenged.

Nathan gave her a look. "Don't be such a hard ass."

"Hey," Brooke said, "this is just a warm-up for when Blondie comes."

"Which one?" Nathan retorted.

"Good question," Brooke said. "Both, I guess."

Nathan laughed. "All right then. See you, Brooke."

"Yeah, see you," she said, shutting the door behind him as he walked down her driveway.

Brooke stared regretfully at her closed door. She was sad to see Nathan go. Surprisingly, she liked his company. A lot. A lot more than she should have, in fact.

A rumbling stomach snapped Brooke out of her reverie. She hadn't eaten anything since lunch yesterday, no wonder she was so hungry. Brooke walked into the kitchen, craving something, anything. The hunger pains that washed over her were intense. She looked down at her stomach fondly. She was eating for two now after all. Brooke placed a hand on her stomach with a sigh.

Just as she had done it, Brooke dropped the hand to her side, horrified. The thoughts that had just run through her head...calm thoughts, soothed thoughts, motherly thoughts. She shouldn't be having those sorts of thoughts. If she did, it would just make it that much harder to actually go through with the abortion she was planning on.

Brooke ruffled through the pantry. Shit. They were out of cereal. And bread. Their housekeeper must have forgotten to go shopping this week. An annoyed glare fixed itself on Brooke's face. She ought to fire that woman. There was absolutely no excuse for this.

Then Brooke remembered, she had fired the housekeeper. Sometime last week, in fact, when Brooke had been having some particularly nasty mood swings. So they were out of food because Brooke had never thought to buy anything.

She turned to the refrigerator, where she found all of three things. Milk, ketchup, and eggs. Terrific. Brooke made a face. She didn't really like eggs, and she had no idea how to cook them, but it was her only choice. It couldn't be that hard to cook them. She had watched the housekeeper make them all the time. It took like five minutes.

Brooke took out an egg and a bowl and smashed the egg against the side, just like she had witnessed the housekeeper do. Obviously, it wasn't that simple, Brooke realized as egg splattered everywhere. "Shit!" she swore, disgusted as the slimy contents of the egg oozed all over her hand, dripping onto the counter and floor. "This really sucks."

Brooke considered cleaning it up, but she was beyond hungry. It could wait. Disregarding the puddles of potential salmonella, she took out another egg, making sure to tap it softer this time.

It sort of worked, Brooke made a face. Did it really matter if a few pieces of the shell were in there? She picked out as much as she could but was sure that there was some she missed.

Who cares? Brooke thought. I just want some food.

She took out spoon and mixed the contents around for a little bit, before pouring on a pan she had set on a preheated stove. That takes care of that. In five minutes, she'd be set.

The doorbell rang.

Unbidden, a picture of Nathan sprung to her head. As if, Brooke, she berated herself mentally, you need to get this whole crush thing out of your head. You cannot have a crush on Nathan. He's practically married.

"Brooke?" a voice called, rapping on the door a few times. Her face twisted. She recognized that voice. It wasn't Nathan.

"Just a second," Brooke called back sweetly, the expression on her face anything but. She rolled her eyes and pulled her robe tighter around her as she walked lazily towards her door.

She pulled it open. "What do you want?" she asked rudely.

Lucas sighed. His expression turned sour like he was trying to hold back something he really wanted to say. Something that would probably make Brooke slam the door in his face. "Can I come in?" he asked instead.

"I'd rather you didn't," Brooke said, but held the door open for him all the same.

Lucas walked straight towards her living room. It killed Brooke seeing how well he knew his way around. Seeing him feeling so at home, so familiar, reminded her of the many days, and even more nights, they had spent here together.

"Brooke," Lucas sat stiffly on her couch. It made Brooke feel a little better. At least he knew he wasn't welcome like he had been before. Lucas stayed silent for a while as if trying to figure out how to word what he was going to say. "You're pregnant," he finally said.

Brooke raised a brow. Obviously, they were taking the direct approach. "You noticed," Brooke said dryly.

Lucas clenched his fist. "Brooke, you can't be like this."

"Like what?" Brooke challenged.

"Like...like the way you are," Lucas struggled.

Brooke scoffed. "Nicely put. From the way your mom talked about you, I figured you were one of the smart kids."

"You can't do this!" Lucas exploded.

"That's funny. Last I checked, this was my house, which you are very lucky to be in right now," Brooke retorted angrily. "So you better just say what you want to say, minus the orders, okay? I'm completely ready to kick your ass out."

"Brooke..." Lucas took a deep breath. "This baby, it's ours. As much as you don't want to admit it, I'm the father. I need to be in this baby's life. I need to help you."

"No, you don't," Brooke said harshly. "You don't need to do this. Just like you didn't need to tell me that you were fucking Peyton behind my back. You didn't need to take one second to consider how crushed I'd be if I ever found out. Which I was, you know."

Lucas raised a brow. "You were?"

Brooke squeezed her eyes shut. Another brilliant, half-thought out comment by Brooke Davis. She never ceased to amaze herself with how stupid she could be. "Yeah," she finally said. "I was. You should have known that."

"I should have," Lucas repeated. "I really should have. I screwed up, Brooke. But so did you."

"Me?" Brooke said incredulously. "I loved you. I gave you everything I had. I opened up to you more than I've ever opened up to anyone else before. Sorry if I'm not seeing my mistake right now."

Lucas shook his head. "Not about that. I'm talking about you not telling me about the baby." He paused and thought his words over, "Well, not the truth, anyway."

"I did tell you the truth," Brooke said indifferently.

"But then you lied about it!" Lucas cried, frustrated. "I could have helped you through this. I told you I would help you through this. What the hell were you thinking, Brooke?

Angry tears escaped Brooke's eyes as she screamed back at him. "I don't know! Maybe how you betrayed me? I didn't want you to be the father of my baby!"

Was she ever going to get through to him? Would he ever understand just how much he hurt her?

Lucas took a step back. He swallowed, hard. "I've already said I'm sorry."

"Well then say it again," Brooke said quietly. "And again, and again. Say it until I'm ready to forgive you for what you did. Don't give up on me, Lucas. I deserve that, at least."

Lucas looked shocked at first. Then, gradually, his shock faded into understanding and acceptance. "You're right," he agreed. "You do deserve that. And I'm ready to say I'm sorry for the rest of the day. And tomorrow. And the day after that. As long as it takes for you to believe me."

Brooke's lips curved into a sad smile. This was the boy she had fallen in love with. The boy who had meant everything to her, the boy she knew would never hurt her. This side of Lucas was becoming scarce lately. "Good," she said. "But why don't you go ahead and start tomorrow? I've got a headache, and I don't feel like having to deal with you following me around saying you're sorry every few seconds."

"You got it," Lucas said. "Our baby doesn't need to see his mom and dad fighting all the time. I want him to grow up with loving parents." Brooke looked at him, askance. She opened her mouth to speak, when Lucas cut in, sniffing the air with a distasteful look on his face. "I'm sorry, but what is that smell?"

Brooke shut her mouth and sniffed the air tentatively. Her face twisted, disgusted. Suddenly her eyes widened in realization. "My breakfast!" she cried, dashing to the kitchen.

Five minutes later, Brooke had scraped what was left of her supposed-to-be breakfast off the frying pan, looking distinctly disgruntled. "I hate cooking," she said gloomily.

"It wasn't that bad," Lucas tried to reassure her. "Sure,they got a little burned, but overall..."

"They were flat," Brooke said point-blank. "They were flat, and they were neon, and they stuck to the pan as if I had put superglue on them."

Lucas nodded reluctantly. "Okay, so it's not the way my mom's pancakes turn out, but..."

"They weren't pancakes," Brooke corrected. "They were scrambled eggs."

Lucas snorted. He couldn't help it. "I'm sorry," he paused. It was like his staple start to every sentence now. "You're not joking, are you?"

"No," Brooke said flatly, "I'm not. I wish I was though. I'm really hungry."

"I could take you out to get breakfast or something," Lucas offered.

Brooke's eyebrow shot up, something she had picked up after seeing her mother shoot that exact same look towards her father every time he opened his mouth.

"Just as a friend...ly...friendly type...thing, of course," Lucas said hastily, struggling with his word choice. Neither of them knew exactly where they stood with each other.

Brooke considered it, for a few moments. She really was hungry... "All right, Lucas Scott," she grinned, "You're on. I could go for a friendly type breakfast thing."

Lucas grinned sheepishly. "Great," he said. Unbidden, and somewhat wistfully, his eyes traveled down her body, lingering on the bare expanse of her legs and the hanging, loose fabric barely covering her chest. He realized what he was doing and coughed lamely. "I'll wait for you to change."

"You mean, you don't like the way I'm dressed?" Brooke teased.

Lucas flushed. "It's not like that. I like it very much, but..." he sighed and shook his head. "You always knew how to get me all worked up."

"It's my specialty," Brooke whispered in his ear huskily as she brushed past him on her way upstairs. "Face it, Scott," she called smugly as she climbed up the stairs. "I know how to wrap you around my little finger."

Lucas smiled ruefully. She was right.

Not (much) long after, Brooke strolled cat-like down her stairs again where Lucas was waiting at the bottom, leaning against her stair rail.

"Now, tell me, Lucas," she teased. "How long did you practice that move?"

"Practice?" Lucas did his best to look affronted. "I did no such thing. I'm just kind of a casual pose kind of guy."

Brooke smirked. Then her face twisted, confused. When had they crossed over into this? Only an hour ago, they were at each other's throats, and now they were doing their little flirty banter dance? How had that happened? Why was everything going so fast?

Lucas frowned, concerned. "You okay, Brooke?"

Brooke blinked, hard, and nodded. Yes, she was okay. She smiled. It was the smile that made over half the guys in her school fall in love, or at least in lust, with her. She hadn't completely forgiven Lucas yet, nor had she completely healed. Enough time hadn't passed for that. But she was moving in the right direction. It was nice, talking to him, the nice version of him. She had missed this. "Yeah, I'm good," she assured him. She bounced down the rest of the stairs and tapped his cheek as she walked by. "Come on, let's go. I'm hungry, and somebody promised to pay for breakfast."

"I never..." Lucas began to protest but stopped himself, his lips curving upwards. "Okay," he said. "You got it."

"I thought so," Brooke smirked.

Breakfast was filled with more teasing and laughing. Lucas had taken her to Denny's, which wasn't her preferred choice of dining, but when someone else was paying she had no right to be picky, where they had requested for a secluded booth in the back. She had wolfed down her breakfast so fast even Lucas, who was a pretty intense eater, Brooke reflected, looked alarmed.

"What?" she said defensively. "I'm hungry."

Lucas chuckled and looked at her stomach thoughtfully. "Well, you are eating for two." He stared at her stomach for a few seconds longer, a pensive expression on his face. "I have to admit, it's scary as hell knowing that we're going to be parents this young, but at the same time, I can't say I hate the idea. We've handled a lot this year. Nothing as huge as a baby or anything, but I just can't help but picture a little boy dribbling a basketball around or a girl in bows and dresses. What do you think it will be?"

Brooke shifted uneasily. She had meant to tell him. "Well, about that, Lucas," she said, trying to decide how to approach such a sensitive topic.

Lucas sensed her discomfort. He always did. "What's wrong?" he asked sharply. "Is there something wrong? Is there something about the baby you're not telling me?"

Brooke sighed heavily. "Yeah, actually, there is." She paused, biting her lip.

Lucas waited expectantly.

She took a deep breath. There was no backing down. It wasn't fair to keep this secret from him too.

"I'm not having the baby, Lucas."