It's an inevitable truth of life in a small town: word gets out.

Peyton was waiting in line for a muffin at Holden's Bakery when she ran into Theresa. Their only common bond was cheerleading, but Theresa felt familiar enough with Peyton to announce that she'd heard she'd landed Nathan Scott.

"You're first time on the beach? How romantic!" she'd said, and Peyton's mouth had dropped. She couldn't even act cool. She couldn't even respond.

Her breakfast was effectively ruined.

She was still fuming when she pulled into the Scott driveway. She tried to sit in the car and breath for a few seconds before the confrontation she had planned, but when she saw him shooting hoops on his stupid basketball court, she got out of the car, slammed the door, and marched up to him.

"Where they impressed?" she asked, standing several feet away from him with her arms crossed.

He turned around at the sound of her voice, but his smile at seeing his girlfriend quickly turned around once he saw her face.

"What do you mean, babe?" he asked, actually unaware of what she could possibly be upset about.

"Whoever you told. I'm assuming it was more than one… probably all the guys on the basketball team, and whatever losers were hanging around you since it happened? Theresa asked me today how I enjoyed by sex on the beach."

He thought quickly, mentally darting for an escape, mentally trying to get that look off of her face.

"It must have been Brooke," he said, trying to sound confident even though he was actually quite a bit scared.

"It wasn't and we both know it. Damn it Nathan. You said you were different than every body else said you were. Shame on me for being stupid enough to believe that." She turned quickly and started to walk to her car, an emotional mixture of devastation and adrenaline. Part of her got off on being able to cut people out, being able to prove to herself that they would fail her.

He wasn't about to let her leave. Not like this. He had no form of righteous anger. All he wanted was for things to settle down. He wanted this to work out, and was willing to say anything, do anything to make it happen.

He followed her, quickly, and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling his head into her neck. "I'm sorry Peyton. It was stupid."

She turned around quickly, facing him, and all she could said was "Damn it, Nathan," before he began kissing her.

It was an unfair move, she decided later. There was something about the chemistry between them that was unavoidable. That electrically charged kiss made her think that, perhaps, nothing else really mattered. So what if he told a few friends they had sex. This kiss made her feel like, for a little while, she connected to someone, if only on a physical level. Breaking up with him, ending the kiss, would be cutting off the only thing she really had to hold onto.

They kissed all the way to his bedroom and they were both partially undressed before they hit the bed. Neither of them would have admitted at that moment that this would become a pattern: passionate arguments followed by passionate sex.

Later, of course, it began to define their relationship.