Hey guys, sorry I haven't updated in a while. I have been super busy, what with the current holidays and all. Here is the chapter you have all been looking forward to, a little Brooke and Nathan interaction and it's a lot longer than my other chapters. I kinda felt bad about not updating in a while. Keep in mind, I still don't know who will end up together, but both Nathan and Lucas have a chance. Who knows? I'd like to thank all my loyal readers for me giving me a chance and sticking with me. I seriously appreciate it. I would not be able to continue this story if it weren't for any of you. So, as always, read and review. I hope you enjoy this saga into the world of Brooke, Lucas, (well he's not in this chapter), and Nathan. Enjoy. Oh, and happy holidays…

Chapter 5

She felt the cold breeze caress her face as she stepped out of the oversize door of her parents' L.A. mansion and gazed up at the sky above. She observed there were no signs of cloud coverage, well, except for an unbefitting wispy cloud with three holes that reminded her an awful lot of the pretzels she snacked on at Hot and Twisted. Hot and Twisted was a favorite snack spot in the heart of her local Tree Hill Mall that many of her friends frequented. Suddenly, Brooke had a craving for Hot and Twisted pretzels.Forcing the image of pretzels out of her wandering brain, Brooke abruptly set the timer on her trusty Timex sports watch and took off in a slow jog. She had the pace of the turtle rather than the hare, but Brooke didn't mind. The turtle won the race, didn't he?

Her place was simple enough; jog in one direction for approximately 30 minutes and jog back in the same direction she initially came from in another 30 minutes. Brooke was not adept at navigation and found herself constantly getting lost, even in familiar territory such as her own hometown. Peyton used to joke that Brooke could get lost just crossing a street. Taking her own weakness into mind, Brooke devised a plan to prevent her from getting lost in the foreign streets of L.A. Today was the first test of that plan. How could she get lost if she just remained in one direction? The plan was fool proof. She had seen to that.

A few days before, Brooke's mother had dragged her to another salon against her own will. Her mother viewed the salon as a necessary step to prepare herself for a benefit that her shallow, societal friends decided to throw; it was a benefit to raise money for a cure for cancer. Oh, please, like they're ever going to find a cure for cancer, Brooke had thought to herself. There were so many types of cancer that it would be nearly impossible to contain all of them. Why spend millions of dollars on a cause that didn't seem as justified to Brooke say as saving the rainforest or feeding the starving children in third world countries? Why would someone try to secure the future without even considering the present first? In the back of her mind Brooke knew the actual reasoning to her mother and her friends' presence at the benefit. It wasn't about finding a cure for cancer. Her mother was too selfish to care about stuff like that. It was all show and tell. Attending the benefit was a ploy to convince the public that she cared. Her mother should've won an academy award for her convincing portrayal as the humanitarian wife of a millionaire because she was certainly far from it.

While her mother's immaculate face was being layered in thousands of pounds of foundation and her hair was excessively hair sprayed, Brooke rifled through the pile of books and magazines in the waiting room. Bored out of her skull, Brooke digested a tattered copy of "Running for Dummies" and discovered the lack of oxygen filled subject: running.

Running had never been a particular subject of interest to Brooke. In fact, she despised it. Why sweat when you don't have to? Her favorite forms of exercise either consisted of chewing gum, wrestling the buttons on the television remote control, or lastly, flexing her vocal chords by talking for countless hours on the phone about absolutely nothing in particular. Running was the last thing she ever thought about, except when it concerned the opposite sex. After reading an article in Cosmo regarding male turn-ons, Brooke started to believe that guys liked watching females in motion. Accordingly, Brooke made it a habit to run, well more like walk briskly, at least once a week in order to catch a hottie on her trail. She had been successful many times at her running endeavor to attract the male species, but had decided that sweat and effort just wasn't her idea of a good time. Plus, she had only attracted health nut types, your basic yoga head with granola for a brain. You know, they were the type to take their date to a vegetable bar for dinner. Where was the fun in that? Yep, she had been all about the thrill of the chase, whether she was the pursuer or pursued. Sadly, she had thrived on any man's attention. That is, until now.

After attempting to zip up her size two favorite pair of Levis, she discovered in horror that that feat was a bit more difficult than she anticipated. Summertime had allowed Brooke to pack on five whole pounds to her tiny frame, which was perceived as detrimental in her eyes. Say goodbye to cheetos, Brooke thought wretchedly to herself. So, Brooke found herself out of options and decided to take up running daily to burn those empty, blasted calories that somehow had found their way to her ass. No longer did she care for attention, especially considering her current status as a cow. I'm doing this for me, Brooke assured herself.

Clad in her formfitting Adidas suit and newly purchased Reebok running shoes, she ran along the California Coast. Brooke gasped between faint breaths as she felt her heart pound against her ribcage. She looked down at her watch in exasperation and groaned as she noticed only 15 minutes had passed. Disregarding the time, Brooke tore her eyes away from the sand beneath her feet, and sighed in relief as she noticed pavement in the distance. She felt the sand that had somehow sneaked its way into her running shows squish in between her toes. Soon, she found herself on the hard pavement of what looked like a running trail. A sign read "Welcome to Leilly Park". Desperate to catch her breathe, Brooke slowed down her pace drastically and grimaced at the feeling of the grains of sand in her shoes whichrubbed against her raw feet. She knew she should've gone to another store to buy a pair of Adidas. She had felt slightly disappointed when the Footlocker employee claimed they were all out of women's Adidas running shoes. Instead, she settled for a pair of affordable Reeboks, which clashed with her running suit. Now she was forced to mix and match her ensemble, which was wrong in her book. She had broken her cardinal rule. Her mother had always taught her to never mix brands. But, pain is beauty as they may say.

As she trudged along the track at a steady pace, nothing prepared her for what would happen next. Out of nowhere, a round object instantaneously blocked Brooke's path, and she found she had no time to react from its wrath as she found herselfface to face with the pavement. Fortunately, Brooke's hands hit the ground first, saving Brooke from eating cement and paying a lifetime supply of plastic surgery bills for her potentially damaged and cement-filled face. She recovered, albeit slowly, and took in her surroundings. A stinging pain shot through her hands and right knee and she observed the damage that was done to her. Her hands were on fire and covered in cuts. Trickles of blood began to gradually seep through her second layer of skin. Her first layer was now a distant memory. Brooke looked down at her throbbing knee and noticed the blood from her knee wound began to trickle down her leg. She winced in pain as she attempted to take a step with her right leg. Great, just great, she thought to herself. Now she was stuck in the middle of L.A. How in the hell was she going to get home if she could barely inch her way forward. Brooke looked around the track for evidence of the culprit and spied a basketball with the world Spalding imprinted on it to her left; the object to her near demise. Using her left leg as her balance, Brooke hobbled to the ball and retrieved the article that had fallen from the heavens. Who is Spalding, she wondered to herself. Is he the owner of this ball? Brooke then spotted an approaching figure running down the hill from above. From the distance she could tell he stood at least a foot taller than her, and his body soon came into view. His stature reminded Brooke of the jolly green giant in those vegetable commercials, except he was much better-looking than the green man. Ignoring her present state of pain, Brooke gawked at the man's muscular legs, guns for arms, and a set of familiar pretty blues. They were the same blues as Lucas'. As he advanced to the track, his whole face came into view, and she recognized him as he stared at her holding the ball in her tiny hands.

"Looking for this?" Brooke gestured to the ball.

"Brooke, is that you?"

"Well, well, if it isn't Nathan Scott, AKA Tutorboy." Brooke smiled in delight and playfully bounced the ball to an unsuspecting Nathan, who caught it in surprise.

"Brooke, what are you doing here in LA?"

"My parents live here, and I'm just here for the summer," she stated matter-of- factly. "I thought you would've heard."

"Yeah, I heard you were staying in California, but I didn't expect to see you in LA."

"Well, it's a small world after all, isn't it?" she smirked.

"I guess so." Nathan smiled.

"Well, are you just gonna stand three or are you ever gonna give me a hug?" She crossed her arms and tapped her foot mocking him with her annoyed tone. Nathan laughed as he embraced Brooke in a friendly hug. Nathan immediately felt her moist forehead against his rough, chin, which was covered in stubble. Brooke pulled away as they parted.

"Geez, Tutorboy, ever heard of shaving?" she joked as she rubbed her face with her skinned hand, forgetting altogether that it was doused in her DNA. Nathan instantly took notice of Brooke's hands and knees and stepped back

"Brooke, what the hell happened to you?"

"Well, I was taking a leisurely romp through the park when all of a sudden this gigantic, orange ball comes flying out of nowhere, knocking me to the ground in the process. Hence, skinned hands," she pointed to her bleeding knee, "and skinned knee," she paused, "You wouldn't have anything to do with fiasco would you?" she eyed him suspiciously. Nathan frowned as he realized what happened.

"Oh, dude, Brooke, I am so sorry. Some friends and I were playing a pickup game, and one of my dumbass friend, I repeat dumbass," Brooke smirked at Nathan's emphasis on "dumbass". Nathan continued, "decided to shoot the basketball with his eyes close. Hence, air ball and you eating dirt…err pavement," he explained.

"So, what is this, bowling for Brooke day?" Brooke raised her voice slightly in irritation, and Nathan flinched at Brooke's remark.

"No, Brooke, I feel so bad. I mean, are you okay?" His voice was full of genuine concern, and Brooke's features softened at his response.

"Relax, Tutorboy, I know it wasn't your fault." She looked up at him sheepishly. "I was kidding, just to clarify," she assured him. Nathan sighed in relief and nodded his head.

"Right, I knew that."

"Yeah, I'm sure you did," she added sarcastically.

"Listen, my game is pretty much over now. Can I give you a ride home? It's the least I could do for you," he offered.

"Well, seeing as that I can barely walk at this point without every bone and muscle in my body aching, yeah. That would be very much appreciated."

"Yeah, you look like you took a pretty bad spill there." Nathan looked down at her knee and noticed the blood-soaked socks. The blood looked coagulated around her kneecap, but had stopped dribbling down her shapely leg. He nervously looked back up at Brooke as he felt her eyes on him, probably questioning why he had stared at her leg for such an extended amount of time. He knew exactly the reasoning to his staring at her legs. He was concerned about her cut. Yet, while he inspected the damage done, he couldn't help but admire the way her calves curved to meet her knees to lead up to her slim thighs; or the way the material of her running suit clung to every curve of her body. But that wasn't why he was looking at her legs, he convinced himself. He looked away from Brooke guiltily, but her response forced him to face her again.

"Actually, I was referring to my unsuccessful attempt at jogging; seeing as that I already can feel muscles that I never knew I had." A few seconds of silence ensued as Nathan looked awkwardly at Brooke, who turned to look up the hill. "By the way, that hill aint looking' too good right now, buddy," she pointed to the hill that Nathan had just climbed down.

"It's pretty steep. Here, I can carry you." Nathan moved toward Brooke as if getting ready to pick her up. Brooke shielded herself with her arms in defense of Nathan's advance towards her.

"Oh no, you're not, mister. You are not carrying me up that damn hill like I'm some pathetic paraplegic or some damsel in distress," she vehemently refused.

"Well, it's either I carry you up and we can get out of here quicker, or you can spend the rest of the day limping up that hill," he paused at and looked at the defiant Brooke, who had suddenly reverted to her inner 9-year-old. "It's your choice." Brooke rolled her eyes and sighed in aggravation.

"Fine, but I'm warning you," she pointed her index finger in Nathan's face, "Do you want to know why I was out running?"

"I don't know, maybe the physical aspect of it, why?" Nathan shrugged. He had reached the point of his patience meter.

"I have gained five whole pounds since I have been in California," Brooke's voice grew quiet as she bowed her head in shame. Nathan chuckled when Brooke looked at him again.

"Not 5 whole pounds," Nathan pretend gasped. Brooke shot him an irritated look.

"I'm just saying, if your back goes out, don't blame me."

"Brooke, my back won't go out. I promise you." Brooke hesitated.

"Well, okay. Let's just get out of here before anyone else sees me looking like this." Nathan nodded in agreement, and in a swift movement, scooped Brooke into his arms. She allowed her free hand to dangle as she clutched Nathan's broad shoulders for support and secretly peered out of the corner of her right eye to read Nathan's looming face. His expression was one of ease as he carried her up the incline displaying no strain from her weight whatsoever. It was as if she were as light as a feather; okay, maybe not a feather. Perhaps, she would settle for the weight of a small animal of some kind. Brooke smiled in approval. She noticed her petite frame fit perfectly in the crook of Nathan's arms, and she resisted the urge to snuggle up to his taut chest.

"Whoa, dog. What the hell took you so long? I thought that you had fallen and couldn't get back up." Brooke averted her gaze from Nathan's sculpted jaw line as the sound of a voice interrupted her thoughts. Lo and behold, Brooke beheld a dozen or so men dressed in jerseys and gathered in a group in the center of the basketball court looking at her. Nathan continued walking with Brooke nestled in his capable arms. Every man's jaw dropped as they looked at the spectacle before them,Nathan Scoot holding a beautiful, brunette stranger. Brooke's cheeks turned to crimsons of humiliation as she looked up at Nathan in desperation.

"Nathan, you can put me down now," she whispered. Ignoring her protest, Nathan walked several more feet until he carefully placed Brooke on the bleachers.

"What the hell is this, Tree Hill? You go and fetch a ball that I overthrew and then come back without the ball and this fine-ass woman?" Nathan turned around to face a clearly love-stricken Mike, whose eyes never left the brunette beauty. Brooke looked down mortified. Nathan smiled at his friend. The other men remained on the court drooling over Nathan's mysterious female companion.

"Mike, this is my good friend, Brooke. Brooke this is my buddy, Mike."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Brooke. I apologize for my gawking, but you have got to be the prettiest little thing that I ever saw." Brooke blushed as she met his eyes.

"Mike, it's nice to meet you as well. I'd shake your hand, but can't on account of an injury caused by a flying ball. I tell you, that was one unlucky shot." Mike's eyes widened in realization as he noticed Brooke's skinned hands and knee and that he had somehow contributed to her downfall.

"Darlin', I am so sorry. Are you okay?" Nathan watched the exchange between the duo in amusement.

"Yeah, but it's nothing a couple band aids and some extensive plastic surgery couldn't fix. I hope you have insurance."

"What?" he asked in surprise as he looked at Nathan who just shrugged his shoulders in mock confusion. Mike looked back at Brooke for an answer, who appeared to be all business.

"So, is this how you pick up chicks, death by air ball?" she asked in a serious tone. Mike sighed and wiped his brow.

"You have got to be kidding me." Mike was on the verge of tears. "Brooke, I really am sorry. If there is anything I can do for you…" he pleaded.

"Yeah, well so am I," she stated.

"What you sorry for? This aint your fault," he looked at Brooke.

"Actually, it is." She looked up at Nathan and grinned. "Gosh, you guys are so damn easy." Nathan returned her smile, and Mike looked up at the both in with confusion plastered all over his round face. "Mike, I'm fine. I was just kidding. I'm not gonna sue you. No worries." She watched as relief washed over his face, and his mouth slowly transformed into a delightfully crooked smile. He laughed until his shoulders shook.

"Oh, girl, you are so good. You really had me going there."

"Joking aside, it's really nice to meet you." Mike winked and smiled. Brooke looked over at Nathan. "So, are we going to get the show on the road or what? I can hear hydrogen peroxide calling my name at this moment. If I don't treat these gashes soon, the authorities are going consider me a lost cause and quarantine me." Nathan nodded.

"Yeah, can you wait hold a minute? I gotta talk to Mike before I leave. You mind?" Brooke relented, and Nathan took Mike aside, outside of Brooke's range of hearing.

"Listen man, I gotta get Brooke home, you mind telling the guys?" Nathan nodded in the direction of his buddies on the court still slobbering over Brooke. Mike shook his head.

"No, it's cool, dog." Mike looked in Brooke's direction. "You've got quite the little hottie on your hands." He nudged Nathan in the stomach.

"Dude, she's just a good friend from high school."

"Oh, I see a "good" friend from Tree Hill, huh. Bet they all look like that down in the Carolinas. So, how "good" of a friend is she, huh?" Nathan rolled his eyes.

"Would you stop it, man? She's just a friend. That's all."

"Sure thing. If I were you, I would tap that fine ass of her's," he paused, "hey, you don't think she'd go for me do you?" Mikes face lit up at the prospect of a chance with someone likeBrooke. Nathan laughed.

"No." Mike stopped smiling at Nathan's comment.

"What do you mean "no"?" he shrieked.

"You're not her type." Mike thought about Nathan's response and nodded his head.

"Well, what kind of type is she looking for?"

"I don't know, definitely not you though." Nathan looked over at Brooke who was staring up pensively at the sky. The breeze blew brunette locks in her face as she absentmindedly tucked the loose strands of her bun behind her ears. Her skin glowed as the sun bounced off her in rays. He had never seen her look more beautiful than at that moment, despite scarred knee and all.

"What else do you know about her?" Mike interrupted Nathan's daydream, and he reluctantly turned his attention back to his meddlesome friend.

"I am not talking to you about this, okay. Besides I have to go."

"Fine, but don't think I'm not getting no answers out of you tomorrow, fool."

"Whatever, I'll see you tomorrow morning at practice." Nathan turned and walked towards the bleachers.

"Yeah, don't you forget about that." Mike looked at Brooke. "Honey, I will be seeing you soon." Brooke smiled and waved at Mike. She watched him walk back to the basketball court where she was convinced that he would be grilled by all his buddies about her. She liked him. Nathan approached an awaiting Brooke as she looked at his tired face.

"You ready to go?" Brooke nodded. Nathan drew Brooke into his arms with effortless charm. She giggled as Nathan adjusted Brooke's weight in one arm and threw his gym bag strap over his head and pulled her back into both arms. He started walking towards his car.

"So, how do you get around in LA; a jag, a corvette, a…" Brooke lost her words as she stared at a rusting sedan with a cracked windshield parked 20 feet in front of her and Nathan, "an 18th century Honda sedan?" she added with disgust. Nathan sighed in annoyance.

"Hey, it was the only thing I could afford." Brooke smiled at Nathan's defense tactic.

"Alright Tutorboy," she threw her arm up in the air, a signal to proceed forward, "to the crapmobile."

Before long both persons had made it safely into the vehicle. Nathan glared at Brooke as she made herself comfortable in the passenger seat. She crossed her injured leg over her functional one and nodded in satisfaction as she looked over at Nathan, who started the car and drove.

"So, where to?"

"I don't know. I was running in one general direction, but I know it was 30 minutes on foot from that park." Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Number 1300, Carola Avenue, you happy?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Good."

"So, uh," Nathan cleared his throat, "you never asked me what I'm doing in LA."

"Basketball camp, right," Brooke looked out car the window and back at him.

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Well, all those guys wearing basketball jerseys kinda gave it away," she stated sarcastically. Nathan chuckled.

"Good point."

"Oh, and Peyton told me."

"Oh."

"Didn't figure I would run in to you, this being LA and all." Ten minutes passed, and both occupants of the vehicle remained silent on the awkward ride home.

"It's this one." Brooke pointed to the gigantic house on the right, with its three stories beautiful European architecture. Nathan pulled into the driveway of Brooke's gigantic mansion of a house and shut off the engine.

"I think your engine fell out about half a mile back," Brooke broke the silence. Nathan laughed as he unbuckled his seat belt, but Brooke's hand stopped him before he could reach for the door handle. Nathan looked back Brooke.

"Nathan, I think I can handle it from here."

"Are you sure, I don't mind…"

"As much as I love being manhandled, I think a few hops ought to do the trick. Besides, I don't think my parents would be too fond of a strange man carrying their daughter to the front door," she lied. Her parents weren't even home. She just didn't want to feel like a princess in need of rescuing. She could handle herself. Nathan nodded his head

"I understand, so…."

"So, you still got your cell don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I will give you a call sometime this week and we can hang out. I mean if your schedule permits it. Maybe you could help me alleviate some of this boredom I have been having since I came here," she suggested.

"Yeah, that would be cool." Nathan smiled

"Okay, well thanks for the ride, and I will call you soon." Brooke smiled at gratefully and opened the passenger door. Using her left leg, she managed to slide out of the seat onto the paved cement. She slammed the door shut then thought of something as she stuck her head in through the passenger window. Nathan looked up from his seat belt in surprise. "Oh, and a little advice as to the interior of this vehicle: air freshener." They both laughed as Brooke began limping to the house. She looked absolutely ridiculous, and he had to laugh to himself. Nathan watched her as she finally entered her doorway. She looked back and waved as Nathan drove off.

Once inside her safehaven, Brooke fell onto to the couch in pure exhaustion, as she thought about her day and running into Nathan. She smiled as she remembered him generously carrying her, and then she thought of Mike and how funny he had been. All in all, it was a great day despite her run-in with Mr. Spalding. She couldn't wait until the next time she could hang out with Nathan. She couldn't exactly explain her sudden longing to be around him, but decided to just ignore her thoughts. Brooke flexed her left leg and flinched in pain as a reminder of her day. Oh, she was so not looking forward to her shower and everything that would come after. The pain, the pain; This was going to be one painful shower.