She Don't Dream for Me
By: caramelo
I do not own One Tree Hill or anything related to it.
Story Notes: The information regarding the judicial bypass procedure in this chapter came in a large part from http / www . acluofnorthcarolina . org / reproductiverights . html and http / www . miplannedparenthood . org / topics / law . htm. The second one was actually a Minnesota website, but it was probably the most helpful one I found.
Chapter Nineteen: Hands of a Stranger
Four o'clock rolled around, and Brooke couldn't decide whether time had flown or crawled. She found herself staring up at the courthouse building, cowed by its imposing structure. Strange thing was, it wasn't even that big. Nothing was that big in Tree Hill. It was just…
She would be pouring her heart out in that building not long from now, telling strangers all about her unique situation and her terrible mistake and begging them to let her fix it the only way she knew how. It was all highly personal, and Brooke didn't do highly personal well. She liked to keep everything at an arms-length, under her control. Nothing about this situation would be in her control. Her future was in the hands of a stranger.
Brooke squared her shoulders. She was just going to have to make sure he made the right decision. Her resolve steeled, she tore her eyes away from their awestruck gaze on the building and clicked up the concrete steps in her heels. She refused to allow herself a deep breath before she pulled open the door. She couldn't admit to herself that she was that uneasy about everything.
The woman at the desk looked up when she heard the door open. Brooke strode over to her desk. "I'm Brooke Davis," she said, "I have a hearing scheduled today at four."
"Of course, I remember you," the clerk said. It was Mrs. Altman, the woman Brooke had encountered when she had come to set everything up. Brooke's cheeks flushed, embarrassed at not having remembered her. "No worries," the clerk laughed easily upon seeing her expression. "I just happen to have a very good memory for names and faces."
Brooke smiled weakly. She thought she felt her stomach give a toss.
Mrs. Altman must have sensed her anxiety. "Your hearing will be held in a private room, honey," she said in a softer voice. "I'll be attending. Clerk duties, you know."
"Right," Brooke said. She gestured vaguely to the notes she carried. "I read that somewhere."
The woman smiled approvingly. "I see you've done your research."
Brooke began to say yes just as they reached an utterly unremarkable door. The clerk stopped in front of it and knocked once. "Yes?" a gruff voice called from inside.
"Ms. Davis is here for her hearing," Mrs. Altman said.
"Come in."
She twisted the doorknob, and Brooke could feel her insides twisting along with it. The door opened to reveal an imposing man in a sharp suit with a stern expression on his face. Brooke figured he must have been in his late fifties, judging by the graying hair.
"Hello, Judge Mathews," Mrs. Altman said pleasantly.
Brooke attempted a smile. "Hello, sir."
The judge nodded solemnly in greeting. "Are we ready?" he addressed the clerk.
"I am," she said. She turned to Brooke. "Are you, honey?"
Brooke nodded.
"Let's get this started then," Judge Mathews said.
To begin with, Brooke had to be sworn in. She did so blankly, repeating the words as instructed with no feeling in her voice. She felt almost robotic. When it was over, she sank down gratefully into the seat provided. She made sure to remember to cross her legs as she was wearing a demure black skirt. She was trying to look professional, just like the websites had advised.
"Your name, please," the judge asked.
Brooke's eyes darted to Mrs. Altman. She had said that this would be confidential.
Mrs. Altman noticed her panicked stare. "We aren't taking notes, honey," she assured her. "This is just court procedure."
Brooke calmed down. "Brooke Davis," she finally answered.
"Do you have a lawyer representing you?"
Now Brooke thought this question was rather stupid, seeing as they were the only three people in the room, but she chalked it up to court procedure and politely answered, "No, sir."
An eyebrow shot up on the aging judge's face.
"I know, it's supposed to be better if you have a lawyer," Brooke explained hastily, "but I'd rather do this on my own. I want to tell my story with as little audience as possible. I've researched the procedure extensively, and I can do this, sir."
"You don't need to explain yourself unless asked, Ms. Davis," the judge said simply.
Brooke flushed and shrunk down a little into her seat. "Yes, sir."
Worriedly, she wondered if she was over-using the word "sir." It had been suggested on the sites she came across, but was there supposed to be a line drawn at a certain point?
"Do you go to school, Ms. Davis?"
Brooke snapped back to attention. "I'm sorry?"
"School, Ms. Davis?" the judge repeated sternly. "Do you attend a school?"
"Oh. Yes," Brooke replied. "I attend Tree Hill High."
"How old are you?"
"Sixteen."
"This would make you a junior?"
"Yes."
The questions continued on in this vein for a while as Judge Mathews asked about her grades and school involvement and if she had a job or played a sport. They were all fairly easy to answer, and Brooke slowly felt her confidence rising within her. Her devout dedication to cheerleading and her clear-cut goal in fashion design had impressed the judge. She balked a little at revealing her math grade, but so far it had been the only hitch she had encountered.
He then proceeded to ask her about her knowledge of abortions and the consequences and her other options, and she knew she had knocked it out of the park there. Her research had paid off, and Brooke knew she came off as poised and well-informed as she recited the words she had been memorizing for the past week.
"You seem to know a lot about this, Ms. Davis," Judge Mathews commented.
"I think it's important to know what you're getting into when it comes to situations like this," Brooke answered honestly.
The judge nodded. "Very true." He shuffled some papers and cleared his throat. Then the questions started getting hard.
It started out with, "Now, tell me, why don't you feel like you can raise this child?"
"I'm too young, sir," Brooke said bluntly. "I'm still in high school, and I'm going to want to go to college in a couple years. I wouldn't be able to keep up with everything."
"What about the father?"
"He's in high school too. He plays basketball, and he's acing all his classes. It would be too much of a burden for him," Brooke said.
"What about your parents? Do you feel like they could help you?"
"My parents are never home. They hate children, anyway."
"Is that why you feel you can't tell them?"
Brooke hesitated. "Well, partly," she said.
"Elaborate, please," Judge Mathews instructed.
"My parents never cared about me when I was growing up," Brooke said, taking a breath to steady herself. She had come into this office and sworn to tell the truth, and the truth she would tell. "As long as I was alive and out of jail, they were perfectly content to ignore me. All I had to do was be a poster-child to show off to their associates. If they found out that I'm pregnant…" Brooke paused as her sentence trailed off. She frowned and tried again from a different approach. "My family is all about image. I would ruin the family image if this got out. My parents would be absolutely furious. They would disown me."
Judge Mathews looked skeptical. "This is not going into dramatics, Ms. Davis?" he questioned.
"No, sir, it's not," Brooke said. "They can't know I'm pregnant."
"Is there anybody that does know about this pregnancy? Have you spoken with anyone?"
Brooke bit her lip. Nathan's party surfaced in her mind again. The amazed expressions and the gasps of delighted horror at witnessing such scandal…you knocked up little whore…Nathan's eyes, calm and comforting…"The father knows," she said slowly. "I've discussed everything with him."
"Including this hearing?"
"Yes," Brooke said.
"And how does he feel about everything?"
"He thinks I should keep the baby," Brooke said, "but I feel that it wouldn't be practical. As I said before, my parents wouldn't be able to handle the news of my pregnancy, and he lives with his single mother. They don't have the money to support two more people."
"I see," the judge said, sounding thoughtful. "Are you and the father still together, Ms. Davis?"
Brooke grimaced. "We aren't," she said truthfully, "but the break-up wasn't over the baby."
"What was it over?"
She swallowed. It felt like her heart was constricting. "He and my best friend…"
"It seems like this will not be relevant to the case," Judge Mathews said tactfully. "You do not need to continue if you do not wish to."
"Thank you, sir," Brooke said, sincere.
"Very well then. Is there anything you'd like to add, Ms. Davis? A closing statement, perhaps?"
Brooke paused, thinking carefully. After a few beats of silence, she finally answered, "I know I made a mistake, sir. We used birth control, but there were still risks involved, and I was well aware of them. I wish there was another way to handle the situation, but unfortunately in my situation, I feel like nothing positive could come out of carrying this baby full-term. It's selfish, but I need my parents to provide for me at this stage in my life, and if they were to find out, they wouldn't. I want to go to college, and I want to have a good job. I want to have a baby at the point in my life when I'm ready for one. I don't want to raise a child in a dead-end environment, and that would be the best that I could do at this point. There is no happy, secure family that I could provide for my child." Brooke took a shaky breath. She met the judge's unreadable eyes determinedly.
"My future depends on this decision, sir. I am mature, and I do know the risks of abortion. I still feel it is in my best interests to have one."
The judge nodded. "Thank you, Ms. Davis. If you'd step outside, please, I'd like a few minutes to deliberate on the matter."
That seemed to be the clerk's cue to rise. "Come on, honey," she said, leading Brooke out of the room. Brooke's legs felt wooden and sluggish as she followed Mrs. Altman back out to the main office.
The minutes rolled together into the most hellish half-hour of Brooke's life. She couldn't think coherently, and her emotions were overpowered by dread and anxiety. Finally, the judge stepped out of his quarters. "You can come back in now, Ms. Davis."
Brooke scrambled up from the uncomfortable wooden seat that had been her support for the last thirty minutes. She had to force herself not to race down the hall, and after what seemed like an abnormally long walk, she was finally back in the office, sitting down in another seat facing the judge.
The judge was all business. He made a few notes on a sheet of paper and cleared his throat importantly. "After considering your situation carefully and evaluating your maturity level, I've come to the decision that there is nothing to validate withholding your permission for an abortion. You seem to have a firm understanding about the procedure and yourself. You prepared well, Ms. Davis. I'm granting you the waiver."
Brooke felt a sense of relief washing over her and leaving her weak. "Thank you so much, sir. You have no idea what you've done for me."
"I hope you don't find yourself in any similar situations in the near future," was all the judge said. He gestured to the sheet he was writing on when she had come in. "Please sign here."
With a start, Brooke realized that this was the waiver she had been working so hard towards. Hands shaking, she took the pen the judge offered to her and scrawled her name on the line hastily as if she was afraid he suddenly would change his mind and revoke the waiver.
Her fears were unfounded. As soon as the ink dried, the judge handed her the sheet. "You'll need to take this with you when you go to get the abortion," he said. "Along with anything else they may require at the clinic."
"Thank you, sir," Brooke said again.
He made a gesture of acknowledgement and clasped his hands on top of his desk. "Best of luck, Ms. Davis. Goodbye."
"Bye," Brooke said in a near whisper, clutching her waiver tight in her hands and walking out the door.
Brooke didn't remember exiting the building or the car ride home. She didn't remember unlocking the front door and scrambling up the stairs into her room. She didn't remember collapsing onto her bed, boneless, exhausted. She didn't remember when or why she brought her limp hands up to clutch at her stomach, but that was the position she found herself in when she finally snapped out of her daze a considerable amount of time later.
She wrenched her hands away from their position, horrified, and her head snapped to the right to see her waiver lying on the bed beside her. She expelled a breath she didn't know she was holding and reached for the paper again. Her eyes ran over the words she had already memorized, but they still had yet to sink in. Somewhere in the back of Brooke's mind, the idea registered that she ought to schedule her appointment at the clinic.
She had already come across the phone number for the local clinic in her research, and therefore, it was already emblazoned in her mind, just like everything else about this entire process had been. The phone rang twice before somebody picked up.
"Women's Center, how may I help you?" a polite voice on the other end said.
"Hello," Brooke said. "I'd like to schedule an…" her mouth went dry, "an…abortion."
The woman didn't even pause. "Of course," she said kindly. "When would you like to schedule it for?"
"As soon as possible," Brooke said. "Can I do it for tomorrow? Is that okay?"
"We have openings at one and three," the woman replied.
"Three, please," Brooke said.
"All right. Name, please."
"Brooke Davis."
"Okay, Brooke Davis, just show up tomorrow at three with a photo I.D., your birth certificate, and a parent if you're underage--"
"I have a judicial bypass waiver," Brooke interjected.
"That works too," the woman said, unfazed. She had obviously dealt with these cases before. "There's an upfront fee of three hundred dollars, cash or credit card. Expect the whole thing to take a couple hours."
"That's fine," Brooke said.
"Okay," the woman said, "it's all set then. We'll see you tomorrow."
"Thanks. Bye," Brooke said, hanging up the phone.
Brooke sighed and set off to gather the things the woman had told her she would need. Three hundred dollars…she was lucky her parents were so generous with her allowance. When everything was gathered into a neat pile on her desk, Brooke threw herself back onto her bed with a relieved sigh. Already, it felt like a huge weight was being lifted from her shoulders. Not long after, she drifted off to sleep.
Brooke skipped first period the next day.
A wry smile curled on her face as she waited out the hour in her car, parked in the school parking lot. She had spent hours swearing up and down to the judge that she was so responsible and so mature, and here she was skipping class.
She didn't want to admit to herself that Nathan was the reason, but he was. Brooke didn't need any more added anxiety tacked onto this day than there already was at the thought of her afternoon plans. She was doing the right thing, she kept reassuring herself; this was for the best.
Brooke was sitting erect in her seat by second period as if to make up for her previous irresponsibility. She even attempted to follow the notes and try a few examples on her own. Anything to take her mind away from, well, that.
The rest of the day passed in a similar way, and when the bell rang, she prided herself on keeping her cool and having successfully avoided…
"Nathan," she said flatly. He had obviously been waiting for her, perched on the hood of her car to keep her from running away from him.
"Brooke," he said, his eyes dark and clouded, "I…"
Brooke held up a hand. "I'm not hearing this," she said. "I'm tired of you and your self-righteous bullshit accusations, okay? And don't think that sitting on my car is going to keep me here listening to you. We'll see how long you can hold on once I get in and start driving."
"It's not…"
"Nathan, I don't have time for this," Brooke cut him off again impatiently. "I have somewhere I need to be, so if you'll kindly get the hell off..."
"Where?" Nathan asked abruptly.
"Why does it matter to you?" Brooke shot back.
Nathan's scrutinizing gaze on her didn't falter. "Just…where?" he said. "I'll get off if you tell me."
Brooke glared. Then she sighed and massaged her temples. If it would get him off with no more resistance, then how much could it really hurt? "Doctor's appointment," she said shortly.
"Doctor's appointment," Nathan repeated with a frown as he regarded her.
"Yes," Brooke said in a clipped tone. She wouldn't ever admit it, but his stare made something in her ache. "Now get the fuck off my car."
"Yeah," Nathan said, sliding off her car. He proceeded to walk right up to her, so close that Brooke felt her breath hitch. He reached for her hand and opened his mouth to say something, and that was when she narrowed her eyes and came back to her senses. Brooke had had enough. He wasn't going to do this to her again. She wouldn't let him.
"Go to hell," she seethed.
His mouth snapped shut, and something akin to hurt flooded his expression. It touched something inside of her, but Brooke was too angry to care. She rolled her eyes at his remorse and brushed rudely past him on the way to her car. She wasted no time in driving off and leaving him standing defeated and alone in the middle of the parking lot.
She hoped she had hurt him, Brooke thought vindictively during the drive over to the clinic. She hoped she had hurt him as badly as he had hurt her.
Author's Note: Big things are happening soon. I can't guarantee that all of you will be happy with the next chapter because I've heard arguments on both sides of the issue. I've known what was going to happen since the beginning of the story, but I'm not spilling. ;) Anyway, just keep in mind that no matter what, abortion is a controversial issue, and next chapter I will not be trying to force my views on anybody (actually, I'm not even entirely sure where I stand on it yet). I guess I'm just trying to ask that everybody – those who want Brooke to have the abortion and those who want her to keep the baby – to please keep an open mind. Thanks! You guys are seriously the best, keep reviewing!
until next time…
caramelo