She Don't Dream for Me
By: caramelo
I do not own One Tree Hill or anything related to it.
Story Notes: The bulk of the information on the judicial bypass law came from http / scholar . lib . vt . edu / VA-news / VA-Pilot / issues / 1997 / vp970209 / 02090048 . htm (without the spaces).
Chapter Seventeen: The Worst Gentleman
Getting by the next few days proved to be a challenge for both Brooke and Nathan. She'd see him in the halls and scamper up to him to tease him about a shirt that she distinctly remembered Peyton buying for him at least two years ago and then remember their agreement and stop in her tracks. He would come up behind her and reach up a hand to ruffle her perfectly brushed hair then she would happen to meet his eyes, and he would change course and offer a lame wave hello.
It was torture for both of them, but Brooke was stubborn. She remained firm in her beliefs that something had to happen. Somehow, he would prove himself to her.
Meanwhile, she occupied herself with an equally unpleasant task that needed attending to. The three month mark was fast approaching for her pregnancy, and she would be out of her prime for abortion. If she was going to go through with it, it had to be soon.
"I just need to know a little bit more," she reasoned, absently setting a hand on her stomach. She looked down, and her eyes grew wide. Was it just her imagination, or was it really feeling a bit more round?
"You're a rail, Brooke," Nathan's voice breathed into her hair.
Brooke spun to find him only inches away. "Jesus," she said, "you scared me."
"Too busy being a total girl and obsessing about your weight?" he said, quirking a brow.
"I have a reason to be worried," Brooke defended herself. "Pregnant girls don't stay skinny."
"But you are," Nathan insisted.
Brooke squinted her eyes at him in a fair imitation of Lucas and then glanced down at her stomach again uncertainly. She still fit into her favorite jeans comfortably enough, and besides a few dashes to the bathroom in the beginning, she had pretty much evaded morning sickness. Maybe pregnancy had struck a deal with her body; it wouldn't plague her with troublesome symptoms until she had made a definite action, one way or the other.
"For right now," Brooke grudgingly agreed.
"So you're keeping it?" Nathan asked, curious.
"I didn't say that either," Brooke looked away.
"I'm sorry," he said. "It wasn't my place to ask, I know. You'll tell everybody when you're ready."
Brooke nodded, and an uncomfortable silence ensued. She shifted back and forth on her heels while Nathan racked his brain for something to say. He opened his mouth, but she was already walking away.
"Sorry," she called over her shoulder, "lots to do!"
"Sure," Nathan muttered, waving weakly at her retreating back.
It was only a coincidence that she found herself in front of the library, Brooke tried to reassure herself as she remembered that this was where she and Nathan had first really started talking to each other. She had needed to come here anyway to do some research. She had never really finished what she had started that short while ago before Lucas had interrupted her.
Brooke was pleased to find that the computer area was pretty empty. Apparently, the students at Tree Hill High did not have the initiative to study through lunch. Shame on them, Brooke thought cheerfully as she settled down at an unoccupied computer a good distance away from a freshman boy that seemed to be completely immersed in some Star Wars game.
Her spirits dampened considerably as she pulled up Google on her computer. She already knew what the procedures for an abortion were, but there were other factors to consider. Specifically, how she would actually go about setting up such a surgery. She typed in a few keywords and waited.
After scanning through a couple of virtually useless websites, Brooke hit gold. "Abortion laws in North Carolina," she mouthed the heading off the page. Her heart sank as she read on.
North Carolina law restricts young women's access to abortion services by mandating parental consent.
No, Brooke thought, biting her lip and staring hard at the screen, as if willing the words away. Despite her best attempts, they continued to taunt her in bold black letters glowing out from the harsh glare of the computer. The whole point of this was so that her parents wouldn't find out. They couldn't find out. She would be homeless.
Desperation clawed at the insides of her stomach, and she began typing furiously into the computer. This couldn't be the only option. There had to be a way around this.
Her answer came in the form of the judicial bypass law, passed in North Carolina in October of 1995 alongside the same law that required for her to obtain parental consent. Instead of going to her parents as that law dictated, she could take this to the courts.
Brooke bit her lip. To the courts? The idea of an unsympathetic judge dismissing her as a party girl and denying her request seemed intimidating almost, but she read on. It did get better, though she was still somewhat daunted by the whole court aspect.
"Completely confidential," she mouthed as she read. Only about three of a hundred cases that came in a year were denied…Maybe she could do this. She'd have to do a lot more research and some serious soul-searching in preparation, but it would be worth it. She would be granted her waiver.
"This is it," she murmured, though her voice lacked any excitement in her find. She looked down at her stomach with a feeling of uneasiness. This was the right choice, wasn't it?
Brooke's lips set in a thin line. It was the only choice, she reprimanded herself and got to work on researching, not even noticing the bell ringing to signify that it was time to go to her next class.
By that Friday, Brooke estimated that she must have spent at least ten hours researching and preparing for the file of her request. She had scrutinized every possible question listed on the internet and written paragraphs in response to each one. She was turning into quite the little bookworm, Brooke mused (careful to substitute in 'bookworm' for 'Tutor Girl' even in her mind), as she disappeared into the library for the hundredth time that week.
"You're really taking this whole school thing seriously lately," a voice said dryly behind her.
Brooke spun around to find that Nathan had slipped through the door after her. "You need to stop sneaking up on me like that," she told him reproachfully.
He shrugged. "Maybe if you weren't so into studying, you would have noticed me."
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked shrewdly, her eyes darting over to the computer where she had done all of her research. Was it possible that he could have seen her throughout the week and knew what she was planning on doing?
"I mean that you've never been interested in school, Brooke," Nathan said exasperatedly. "And now, suddenly you're running off into here every single day? I don't see how we can work through everything if you keep avoiding me."
Brooke could have laughed with relief. "You think I'm avoiding you?" she said, unable to resist a smile. "That's what this is about? Don't be paranoid, Nathan."
Nathan scowled and looked down at his feet. "Well, what am I supposed to think?" he muttered.
Brooke sobered immediately. She realized that under the circumstances and with Nathan's limited knowledge on what was going on with her lately, it would have been very easy to come to the conclusion he had. It wasn't fair of her to laugh at him. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I warned you before; I have issues on top of my issues. This one in particular doesn't have to do with you."
"Should I feel relieved or insulted?" Nathan said, only half-joking.
Brooke sighed. "I haven't stopped thinking about you…or us," she said hesitantly. "But you have to understand that I have other things I need to work through first. The sooner I can work through those things, the sooner I can start concentrating on what we have between us."
"You said it would only be a few days," Nathan reminded her. He was careful to keep his tone neutral, but Brooke could hear the frustration and hurt fueling his words.
"I know," she said apologetically. "I got sidetracked. It's not fair, I know, but this is really, really important. It's something I should have taken care of a while ago. If you could just wait for a little longer…"
"I told you I'd wait, and I meant it," Nathan said firmly.
Brooke smiled. She hoped he'd stay true to that. "It wouldn't be a good idea to try and start something when I'm so out of it anyway," she reasoned. "Besides, more time apart might be exactly what we need. Gives us even more time to think."
"More time to think about you?" Nathan said with a slightly bitter laugh. "Trust me, that's all I've been doing."
"I know," Brooke said, standing up on her tiptoes and giving him a swift kiss on the cheek before she could stop herself. "Thanks for being so patient. This should all work itself out soon."
"I hope so," he said with a quirked brow as she flew past him, further into the library. He didn't know what was up with her lately, but he sorely wished she would confide in him like she used to. He knew Brooke was independent, but it almost seemed like she had closed herself off from him. Not that he didn't deserve it, he knew.
That afternoon, Brooke went to file her petition at the courthouse.
She pretended not to notice the eyebrow that shot up on the clerk's face when she told the woman what she wanted. "Hmm," the woman said critically. She reached inside a drawer, rummaging around for a bit before she pulled out a form. "Fill this out please."
Brooke took the form and looked over the questions. She glanced around nervously. Nobody was around. "This is confidential, right?" she said in a near whisper.
"Completely, honey," the woman said. "Do you need a pen?"
"Yeah," Brooke said. As an afterthought, she added, "please."
"Just give it to me when you're done," the clerk directed. She observed Brooke's apprehensive demeanor shrewdly. "You can fill it out in your car if you want."
Brooke nodded and hurried out of the clerk's office. She scribbled the requested information on the form using her math book as a desk. Once she finished, she brought it back inside. "Okay," the woman said briskly as Brooke handed her the paper, all business. "We have to schedule your hearing within the week. When are you available?"
"Any day is fine," Brooke said. "I have school till three."
"Of course," the woman said. She consulted something on her computer. "How does Tuesday at four sound? Four days from now."
"Perfect," Brooke said.
The woman punched a few things into her computer. "It's all set then." She picked up a few sheets of papers on her desk. "Here are some instructions on the judicial waiver process and an explanation of your rights to appeal. If you want, we can schedule for a court-appointed attorney to represent you, free of charge."
Brooke bit her lip. That would be one more person hearing her sad, sordid little tale. "Um, no thanks," she said.
"Are you sure?" the woman pressed.
"I can do this on my own," Brooke said more confidently.
A ghost of a smile appeared on the woman's face. "All right, honey. Be back here Tuesday at four."
"Okay," Brooke said. "Thank you, Mrs…" she trailed off sheepishly.
"Mrs. Altman, dear," the clerk said.
Brooke smiled. "Thank you, Mrs. Altman." She turned on her heel, clutching her papers, and headed out to her car. Her smile fell from her face as she slumped into her seat. She was really doing this. Really, truly, actually, no turning back. Even the concept was scary.
"Tuesday," she murmured. Four days away. It seemed like such a long time to wait. She was ready now.
Brooke glanced back at the courthouse and swallowed, hard. Maybe not.
She pulled out of the parking lot and drove away.
That night, Brooke lay in her bed, skimming over all her meticulously taken notes once again. Responsible Brooke, she thought, smiling half-heartedly in amusement, studying on a Friday night…Brooke had already decided that she'd stick close to home this weekend. She wasn't in the mood for any more excitement or drama. Her heart had been hurt enough.
Around eight, Brooke's stomach let out a disgruntled grumble. She realized with a start that she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast that morning as she had skipped lunch in favor of finishing some last minute reading on court hearings. Briefly, Brooke had to stop and wonder what had made her throw herself into this so much. It was important, yes, but the timing was strange. She couldn't throw off the prickling feeling that, despite what she had told Nathan earlier in the week, she was avoiding him to some extent. As far as the whole abortion thing went, it may have actually been better that he had acted the way he had earlier in the week. She would have never been able to so fully immerse herself in this case otherwise.
Brooke's stomach rumbled again. She sighed and pulled herself off her bed. She grabbed a few pages of print-outs to take with her while she went downstairs to throw together some sort of snack. After bounding down the stairs and making a quick stop in the bathroom to rinse off her hands, Brooke padded into the kitchen and threw open the refrigerator door to find…
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Why the hell had she fired that housekeeper?
Brooke knew she wasn't much of a cook, but she doubted even Karen could do much with ice cubes and mustard.
Karen…
Brooke perked up at the thought. She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. Karen's Café wasn't supposed to close for at least a little while longer. She should have enough time to drive over there and beg for a decent meal.
That was what she'd do, Brooke decided. She raced back upstairs and pulled on some jeans and gathered her hair into a messy ponytail. She couldn't help but apply a quick coat of lip gloss as well as she raced out the door.
She didn't make it very far.
"Mmph," Brooke mumbled in protest, her lips smothered by the fabric of somebody's shirt. She hadn't thought to look up and see if anybody was in her path when she bounded out the door. Brooke inhaled and sighed; she recognized that scent. Subconsciously, she felt the urge to relax against the person standing in front of her.
Brooke's eyes flew open wide, and she stumbled back with a hurried apology. She winced at how weird she sounded and worked to cover her mistake.
"Nathan," she admonished teasingly, "you keep getting in my way."
Nathan laughed in a low chuckle. "Maybe you should watch where you're going every once in a while."
"Nuh uh," Brooke said, "That's not how it works. Other people move out of the way for me."
"Unless that other person happens to be me," Nathan said smugly. He broke out in a tentative smile. "How have you been, Brooke?"
Brooke cocked her head in bemusement. "About the same as when I talked to you earlier today, I guess," she said.
Nathan shrugged. "I guess it just feels like we haven't seen much of each other lately."
Brooke felt an acute regret at his words and realized, despite the fact that they had carried on a short conversation that morning, she knew exactly what he was talking about. "It does," she agreed. "I'm sorry; it's my fault. I've been running around like a crazy woman this week. I was just about to relax for a little while and grab some dinner at Karen's though. Do you want to come with me?"
"Sure," Nathan said, smiling. His expression was cool and collected, but Brooke recognized the genuine happiness in his eyes. Swallowing, she had to remind herself that this wasn't a date. It wouldn't be fair to pull him in at this hectic point in her life. With the impending hearing and the abortion and everything, it just wouldn't work. Not to mention that she still hadn't completely forgiven him for how badly he had handled things last time they had tried to start something.
"Your car or mine?" Brooke finally said, trying to shake away her thoughts.
"Either one," Nathan said. "Mine's blocking yours in, so I guess I'll just drive us."
"Okay," Brooke said.
The ride to Karen's Café was marked by the fact that nothing of any particular interest happened. Brooke and Nathan chatted amiably about school and basketball. While Nathan was talking about a particularly dumb thing Tim had done in practice at length, Brooke let her mind wander guiltily to her sporadic attendance at cheerleading practice. More and more, she had left other girls in charge of running things, especially in the last week.
She was falling out of everything, she realized, sneaking a furtive glance at Nathan, who was still fully engrossed in telling his story. It wasn't right. This pregnancy was consuming everything in her life. But it would be over soon, she reassured herself, and things would go back to normal. She'd be able to resume captainship and work things out with all of her friends, especially him.
"We're here," Nathan said as he pulled into an empty spot. "Thank God. I'm starving. I haven't eaten since dinner."
Brooke looked over at him, askance. "This is dinner," she said.
Nathan returned the incredulous look. "No way. This late? This is an after-dinner snack."
"After-dinner snack?" Brooke repeated. "How are you even hungry if you've already eaten dinner?"
Nathan shrugged. "I always eat one more time before I go to bed. Got to keep my weight up."
Brooke sent him a truly sullen look. "I'm not speaking to you anymore," she said as she hopped out of the car and strode into the café.
"Aw, Brooke, come on," Nathan said as he quickly followed her inside. "I don't get what I did wrong."
Brooke stuck her tongue out at him. "Just because you're too skinny doesn't mean you have to rub it in my face."
Nathan rolled his eyes. "Not this again," he said. "You're the perfect size, Brooke."
"Am not," Brooke pouted. She broke out into a smile. "But it's nice of you to lie to me."
"Shut up," Nathan groused good-naturedly. "Girls."
"What about us?" Brooke said, lifting a brow.
He slung an arm around her neck and ruffled her hair in a way that made Brooke squeal in indignation. "You're all impossible," he growled in her ear.
Brooke shivered at his proximity and pulled away, hoping he hadn't noticed. She stuck out her lower lip. "Maybe if all you boys weren't so dense, then we wouldn't be so hard to figure out."
Nathan snorted. "I doubt it."
"Do you two kids want to be seated now?" a voice said dryly behind them, effectively ending their bantering.
The two spun around to find, "Karen!" Brooke exclaimed, a blush rising on her cheeks. A distinct discomfort gnawed at her stomach, given her history with Lucas.
"Brooke, Nathan," Karen said cordially, and Brooke noted a fair amount of surprise in her tone. She shifted uneasily.
"Is it too late to order some dinner?" she asked.
Karen glanced back at the clock and then surveyed the two of them critically. She smiled warmly. "Of course not, have a seat," she said, gesturing over at a booth by the window. "Would you like anything to drink?"
"Water, please," Brooke said, and Nathan requested a Sprite. Karen nodded and sent them one last fleeting, bemused look as she walked away.
Brooke bit her lip as she watched Karen fill their glasses behind the counter. "That was…"
"Uncomfortable," Nathan supplied, lounging back against his seat. "We should have expected it. Who had the bright idea of coming here?"
"Shut up," Brooke said with a glare. "I was hungry, and Karen makes really good egg salad sandwiches."
"Egg salad?" Nathan crinkled his nose.
"They're good," Brooke defended herself.
"I hate egg salad," Nathan grumbled.
"Well, what are you going to get then?"
"I was about to ask the same question myself," Karen said, suddenly materializing in front of them. Brooke started in surprise.
Nathan's eyes flitted over the list of selections. "An apple fritter," he declared, shutting his menu decisively. He plucked Brooke's out of her hands and handed them both to Karen.
"Good choices," Karen said, "I'll be back with your food in a little bit."
"I didn't know they had apple fritters here," Brooke said with a frown.
"Maybe you should have looked at the menu more closely," Nathan said condescendingly.
They continued back and forth for the next few minutes, until Nathan said something particularly vexing about cheerleaders and reading comprehension. Brooke scowled. "I've heard enough out of you tonight," she said.
"That's a shame because I'm having fun," Nathan said. He added a smirk just to annoy her.
"Arguing with me is fun?" Brooke questioned.
He grinned. "I couldn't think of anything I'd rather be doing."
Brooke flushed, and they were both saved an awkward silence when Karen showed up with their food. "Egg salad for you," she said, putting a sandwich down in front of Brooke, "and an apple fritter for you," she said, doing the same with Nathan's order. "Enjoy." She hurried off to attend to other customers waving her over for the bill.
Nathan looked down at his fritter greedily. "I will," he said belatedly as he picked up his fork, ready to dig in. He paused just before taking his first bite when he noticed Brooke starting at his fork mournfully. "What?" he said, alarmed.
Brooke sighed and averted her eyes. "Nothing."
Nathan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What was that for?"
"What?" Brooke asked.
"That sigh," he said. "Why did you do that?"
"I didn't," Brooke said innocently. "You must be hearing things."
"No, you definitely did," Nathan said, "and I want to know why." He then noticed that her attention wasn't on him anymore, but on the piece of apple fritter he had speared with his fork. His eyes widened, and he stuffed the piece in his mouth quickly. "No way," he said, once he had swallowed. "No."
"What?" Brooke said, eyes wide.
"You're not getting any, Brooke," Nathan said. "You should have ordered one if you wanted it."
"I don't want any," Brooke insisted. She took a reluctant bite of her sandwich. The look on her face was almost painful as she swallowed.
"You're impossible," Nathan said for the second time that night as he pushed his plate the tiniest centimeter towards her. "Go ahead."
"I don't want any," Brooke denied. She took another furtive glance at the fritter and then up at him. She struggled not to smile. "Well, maybe just a bite…"
In the end, Nathan relinquished about half his fritter to Brooke and accepted a few bites of her sandwich in compensation, even though he insisted that he hated egg salad. "Not Karen's," Brooke said firmly. "Eat some."
He reluctantly agreed that it wasn't all bad, and both of them broke out into matching smiles. Soon after, Karen came with the bill, and Nathan was adamant on paying.
"I was planning on coming alone in the first place," Brooke protested. "I brought money."
"No way," Nathan said firmly. "I'm the guy. I'll pay."
"Okay, one," Brooke said, counting off on her fingers, "that was so sexist, and two, it's not like this is a date."
Nathan's smile faltered. "Yeah, I guess," he said, trying to recover. He handed a perplexed Karen a few crumpled bills. "But I'm still paying."
Brooke glowered. "Fine," she said, flicking out a couple dollars onto the table surface, "then I'm leaving the tip."
"Whatever," Nathan said with a roll of his eyes. Brooke mimicked his actions. "Mature," he said wryly.
Brooke shrugged, unperturbed, and giggled. "Well, aren't you going to open the door for me?" she said, waiting expectantly in front of the exit.
Nathan made a face. "One, that's sexist, and two, it's not like this is a real date."
Brooke scoffed. "Now look at who's being the mature one," she said as she threw open the door herself and walked out with a huff. Nathan laughed and jogged ahead of her. He snatched the door handle of the car just before she could reach it.
"Allow me," he said, opening the door for her with an easy smile. He added in some complicated bow at the end that sent Brooke into giggles.
"You're the worst gentleman I ever met," she declared, climbing in the car anyway.
Nathan smirked. "But I'm the best looking one, right?"
"You wish," Brooke laughed and pulled the door shut herself.
Nathan chuckled and shook his head. He gave a rap on Brooke's window before jogging around the car and hopping into the driver's seat. Brooke was yawning when he got in. "Tired?" he asked as he pulled out of the parking space and onto the road.
She cracked open an eye and nodded. "It's been a long week."
"I'll say," Nathan shot a rueful smile in her directions. He was trying to keep things light, but he couldn't stop the regret from seeping through his voice.
Brooke grimaced. "Maybe we should stay away from that."
But now that it had been drudged up, Nathan was reluctant to let it go so easily. "Brooke, I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I had fun with you tonight. It seemed like you had fun too. Why can't we try something real?"
"It's just a bad time," Brooke mumbled.
"Well, when is it going to be a good time?" Nathan demanded, frustrated. "I said I'd wait, but you have no idea how hard it is. I miss you."
"I don't know, Nate," Brooke said evasively. "Soon, okay?"
"No," Nathan said, shaking his head vehemently. "I just don't get it. Am I supposed to do something? What do I have to do prove that I've made my choice for real this time? You told me I needed a few days to sort things out, and I did. I pick you, Brooke. You're it. I know it."
Brooke bit her lip. "There's just so much going on right now…"
"Like what?" Nathan said, his voice pleading. "Let me in, Brooke. What's going on with you?"
She glanced over at him. He looked so earnest, so sincerely interested that she was sorely tempted to let him know what she was going to do. But it wasn't right. Not yet. He pulled into her driveway. "I'm sorry, Nate," she said. "I can't. Thanks for the ride. I had a good time tonight." She sent him one last sad smile before she slid out of the car and hurried up her driveway without sparing another glance back. She headed directly for her bedroom and threw herself on her bed, burying herself under the covers.
She didn't hear Nathan's car pull away until much, much later.
Author's Note: Well, that chapter took…forever. Mostly because of the research that had to be done for it. I was thrilled with the reaction to last chapter. Keep it up! Oh, and just in case it wasn't clear, Brooke told Lucas about her plans to get an abortion and that's it. Nobody else knows. And lastly, because it's useless to imagine that I could actually put out another chapter before then given my record: Happy Holidays, guys!
until next time…
caramelo