Less than 24 hours here and I'm already counting the minutes until I get back on the plane for Tree Hill. Sure, it's beyond gorgeous out here, the sun is shining, the view from my parents beach house is something I would have killed for a year ago. And the eye candy that seems to populate the sandy shore down below our deck, at any one time, is enough to send my entire cheerleading squad into a massive squeal attack.
And here I am, wanting to go home already. There really must be something wrong with me. I'm getting to the point where I'm missing the old me a bit. This new, rather boring side to my personality is starting to give me some pause.
I raise my sunglasses to rest on my head, leaning down to feel in my shore bag for the already familiar leather stenciling. I'm sitting in what most normal people would consider paradise, relaxing on a nice cozy beach, and all I can think about is Peyton's journal.
"I've been debating for ten minutes whether I should come over or not, but you look upset, so my conscious got the best of me."
I look up, shielding my eyes from the brilliant California sunshine, to find someone I wondered if I'd ever see again. None other than Jake Jagielski.
"Jake!" I jump up out of my chair, wrapping my arms around his strong neck for a hug. "What are you doing here?"
He pulls away from the embrace and gestures for me to retake my seat, as he parks himself down on the towel beside me. I take a moment to get a good look at him, his hair longer now, shaggier like when he first left Tree Hill. I'm also beginning to see what Peyton was so attracted to. With his shirt off he's a downright fox. Nice toned pecs, and biceps to match, with a nice even tan all over. I pause in my perusal at that, realizing that he must have been out here a decent amount of time to get a bronzing that deep. He certainly didn't get it in prison.
"So what brings you to LA?" I noticed he avoided my earlier question about his reasons for being here.
I'll let it slide, for the moment at least. "My parents moved out here and insisted I join them."
He looks surprised, and slightly worried too. Wonder what that's about?
"Wow! So you left Tree Hill? For good?"
I shake my head. "Not if I can help it. I want to finish up my senior year back home, then we'll see where I land for college." I've actually given it quite a lot of thought. My grades, surprisingly enough, are decent, and the fact that I'm student body president looks fantastic on college applications. Before all of the crap rained down on my life in regards to my parents and their lackluster job of managing finances I was determined to get out of Tree Hill. Some place like New York, maybe even London or Paris.
Peyton and I had talked about both of us going off to Paris, renting a great little apartment overlooking the Arc de Triomphe or the Eiffel Tower, the lights from the city creating a brilliant glow over our terrace. We could sit out there at night, sipping a great bottle of red wine, enjoying the atmosphere of the famed City of Lights, and catching each other up on the day we each had. Hers at the Sorbonne, finally having her chance to study art the way she's always wanted to. And me still trying to figure out what my major should be at the American University of Paris. We would be having the time of our lives, and we'd be together, that was the most important thing.
Somewhere along the way though we lost sight of that. I went boy crazy and we just seemed to stop talking about it. I wonder if Peyton even remembers the great plans we had? I know she still wants to go to art school, but the question remains, where? With her dad taking jobs closer to home instead of halfway around the world, she might not want to go too far away from Tree Hill. Me, I'm still looking forward to that Parisian experience, but not by myself.
I realize I've gotten lost in my thoughts, Jake's curious expression giving me a heads up to that little fact. "So just how did you land in LA of all places? Is Nikki here?" Because he better not just be living it up as a beach bum when my best friend wasted buckets of tears on him.
He looks uncomfortable, and makes a quick glance towards the shore. I can't help but follow his line of sight, wondering why he won't meet my gaze. I don't have to wonder long though, because as I squint to see more clearly I'm given an unfortunately perfect view of his daughter. In the arms of her mother.
I can feel the anger start building in the pit of my stomach, lathering up to the surface to really give it to him. But before I get the chance he makes an attempt at explaining.
"Brooke, I know how it looks, trust me, I do." Apparently the rage I'm feeling is showing itself quite well. He continues so I can't have a chance to rip him a new one. "I found them out here last week, and I tried to get Jenny away from her, but she had the cops ready to drag me off to jail again. So I figured the best chance I have of ever getting my daughter back is to play nice with Nikki. At least for now."
I roll my eyes in annoyance. "So you're playing the Stepford husband in the hopes that Nikki's psycho quotient will just disappear?" The idea that he's with her, like in the biblical sense, is just churning the pit of anger in my stomach all the more.
He at least has the decency to look ashamed. "What do you want me to do Brooke? She has my daughter. If I ever want her back I have to play Nikki's game."
I can't help but hit him where I know it will hurt. "And what about Peyton." Bull's-eye.
Jake looks around for a moment in a mild state of panic. "She's not here with you is she?"
There's a part of me that wants to tell him yes, just to freak him out that much more. But I'm too mad for even that. "Why would she be?"
He stops his eyes from cris-crossing the shoreline and behind us, refocusing his attention on me. "I think the better question is, why wouldn't she be. You guys didn't have another falling out did you?"
I shake my head incredulously. "Of course not. That's your area of expertise, not mine." God, I don't know why I'm jumping down his throat so much. Sure, I feel a primal urge to protect my best friend, which includes giving hell to the guy that broke her heart. But this feels like something more.
Jake smirks at me a bit, although there's no malice in it that I can tell. "So I'll ask again, why isn't she here with you? I mean if you're still as attached at the hip as when I left I never would have guessed you could go three months without each other."
"And what is THAT supposed to mean?" I'm really not liking where this is headed. I glance down almost subconsciously to the journal not so hidden anymore and the top of my bag.
Unfortunately Jake's gaze follows mine. "Ah, so she finally gave it to you?"
I try and play coy, but Jake is the last person that would let me get away with that. "What?"
He rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "Her journal."
"How did you know she kept a journal? I didn't even know." And there is no way in this world that he knew something about Peyton that I didn't.
"I found it in her nightstand one night when I was looking for the spare pacifier that she kept for Jenny."
I cut him off. "And you just decided to read it?"
He smirks at me again. "Didn't you?"
I glare at him, although secretly I'm slightly proud of myself that I had enough restraint to keep it closed so far. Granted I was a couple seconds away from blowing all that out to the ocean fifty feet away from us. But I didn't. The reason, sitting beside me, so not the point.
Before I can bite off a smartass retort, he continues. "Actually, I can tell just by the way you're reacting that you haven't."
"Peyton didn't give it to me." I see the confusion pass across his eyes. "I found it at the bottom of my overnight bag. I don't think she has any idea I have it." The confusion turns into mild panic it would seem. "Why, do you know what's in it?"
There's a long silence, and all I can think of is that he's either trying to come up with a decent lie, or he's contemplating telling me the truth. I'm not sure which I'd prefer at this point. I look down at the journal again, waiting for him to make up his mind, wondering what in the world could possibly be in there that's making him so obviously uncomfortable.
As I'm contemplating that rather unnerving thought I see his hand snake into the top of my bag and carefully pull out the leather encased book. He gently places it into my lap and stands up, replacing his sunglasses over his eyes in the process.
"Read it Brooke, from beginning to end."
I shake my head. "Does Peyton know you've read it?"
He gives me a sad smile. "No. That should really tell you something about our relationship I guess. I never told her I saw it."
I glare at him again, for what I'm feeling must be the tenth time. "Nice Jake. I'll be sure to mention that to Peyton when I tell her I bumped into you." I expected to see the panic return, but instead he looks eerily calm. I must be losing my touch.
"It won't matter after you read it. You'll finally understand. Maybe both of you will."
Enough of this cryptic bullshit. "Understand what!"
He turns his back to me and starts walking away, but I hear his parting words, and it sends a chill straight through my body, making the hair on my arms stand up in some kind of strange anticipation.
"Everything."
AN: Sorry to all the Jake and Jeyton fans out there, I know I was a tad on the harsh side when it came to Mr. Jagielski. I honestly never bought into the great Jeyton love story, even though I liked Jake on his own. And for storyline purposes, the boys are sort of acting as the rag dolls for B and P to vent their frustrations and UST on. Lol As always, thanks so much for the kind words and reviews, it's very much appreciated.
