Hey all! So I haven't updated for a while considering my life has been one big busy mess but I'm finding some time to write. Plus I've been sparked with some insperation for this story, thus the update. It's short, just like the other chapters and I hope y'all enjoy!
I hate working late. It's a little past midnight and I'm barely making my way home. Normally it's always quite as hell on the drive home, despite the fact that it's July. Usually parties are the norm, or so I hear. I don't party and the only people that know me are the AV geeks. I have the windows down, the cool summer night air blowing on me softly. It's peaceful but when I stop at a stop sign, I notice someone moving from the side walk.
I look closely and when she crosses in front of my headlights I see that it's Brooke Davis. She looks nothing like she normally would. Her hair's a mess, her body covered by the jacket she has wrapped tightly around her body. If I look closely I can see that her eyes are red, her make up displaced, and that there are tears running down her face.
I gulp before leaning my head out the window. "Excuse me?" She looks back at me, her hands moving to try and wipe away the streaks of make up on her cheeks.
"What do you want," she spits out in true Brooke Davis form and I sigh a little. I shouldn't have cared. I'm just a nerdy sophomore, Brooke Davis doesn't associate with my kind.
"I was wondering if you were okay," I tell her, turning down the now static radio so that I can hear her raspy voice more clearly.
She sniffs loudly, turning away from me before wiping her face once more. Then, she faces me again and puts on an obvious fake smile on her quivering lips. "I'm fine."
"Do… do you need a ride?" I stutter out, glancing back at the clock on the dash board to see that it's a little past midnight.
She shakes her head, messy dark locks swinging from side to side. "No thank you," she responds politely and I know it's from the manners from the society she's been raised in. That and the fact that we're alone. Had we been in front of her friends she would've cast me off immediately. I nod and slip back into my car before turning the corner and pulling over. I turn off my car and get out with my jacket in my hand . I lock my piece of crap car then jog over to catch up with Brooke's retreating form.
I am not athletic; not in the least bit. I'm a geek first and foremost and jogging half a block takes a lot out of me (although I suppose that could also be in part with the fact that I had horrible asthma when I was younger). She turns, watering eyes looking at him confused. "What are you doing?"
"It's late and dark. I may not be able to protect you if we get attacked but I'll at least be able to be a good decoy so you can run," I say with my crooked smile. She glances over at me wearily before giving me what appears to be a genuine smile. I only think that because it's one I've never seen before.
"Thank you…" she trails off and I tell her that my name is Jeremiah. "It's nice to meet you."
I look down as we continue to walk down the side walk and politely tell her that we've met before. We've had English together since freshmen year, something that surprises a lot of people. Someone like Brooke Davis shouldn't be in AP English, at least that's what they say. Personally, it doesn't surprise me. Our teachers always seem to choose to read her papers out loud in class all the time. It's supposed to be anonymous but I know it's hers. She always ducks her head down before looking out the window, trying to act completely disinterested before the teacher says that it was a perfect essay and that sly smile creeps on to her face.
"OH," she says, clearly embarrassed and hits her palm to her forehead. "God, I'm sorry."
I shrug. "It's okay. I didn't expect you to remember." She apologizes again and I just shake my head. "Really it's no big deal. I'm not in your circle of friends. I'm about as far as you could get." I notice that she ducks her head down, her hair masking the expression on her face. She feels bad but she really shouldn't. I know my place, and I know I'm not good enough for Brooke. "Are you sure you're okay," I ask once again and she nods before shrugging.
"Same shit, different day. It's just tiring," she says as we walk down the sidewalk, making a left towards her house. "Sometimes I just want to stop everything. Maybe go back and not become who I am now…" She shivers slightly in the cold air and then reaches up to ball her hair into her fist. She lets it go tiredly, her brown waves falling all around her shoulders, and when we are under a streetlight I can see her eyes fill up with wonder. "Like my life would be better ya know? Maybe if my parents cared or I hadn't let it effect me as much…"
I nod, though I don't really know the feeling she's talking about. I'm content with where I am in life. As far as I'm concerned, my life is perfect for me. "You regret what you've become?" I ask, looking over at her, waiting for her reaction that I'm not even sure will come. She sighs and then looks up at the starry sky, grabbing on to my arm so that she doesn't fall as we keep walking.
"You see that group of stars? The ones that form Orion's belt?" She glances at me quickly and I nod. "Every night since I was 5, I would stand out on my porch and stare at those three stars. They make me forget." She casts a small smile upwards before turning her attention back to me. "Yeah, I regret who I am a lot. I'm only a sophomore and I already hate my life."
I stay quiet for a moment before I look up at the stars she was talking about. "You shouldn't regret anything," I tell her and she looks at me confused. "Life's short. You're not only a sophomore, you're already a sophomore. Before you know it high school's going to be over and people are going to have a lasting impression of you. So you can either change it, or become happy with your actions. A life filled with regret gets you nowhere; it just makes you unhappy."
We've stopped in front of her house but she's yet to let go of my arm. She's staring at me intently and then her dimples appear in each cheek. "Thank you," she says genuinely and I grin back at her. I shrug, as I really didn't do anything but she shakes her heard. "You're special Jeremiah. I mean that." Nice words coming from a truly nice girl. It's a shame they won't mean a thing tomorrow. I let go of her arm and then straighten out her jacket, a habit I have unfortunately gotten from my mother.
"Have a nice night Brooke." I smile once more and then turn away only to have her hand pull me back. I face her and then slowly she leans in and places a soft kiss on my lips. My first kiss was with Brooke Davis.
No one will ever believe this.
When she pulls away, she smiles at me and nods. "I will never regret that." And then she starts to walk up her pathway, waving back at me before she gets to the door.
The next fall, when we've become juniors, I notice that something's different. Normally, jocks and cheerleaders make fun of me because I'm so obviously below them. As a matter of fact, first days of school usually consist of me getting shoved into a locker. However, this year none of that happens. I'm left alone completely. And one day when I pass Brooke in an empty hallway, she gives me a half dimpled smile.