Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.
A/N: Short again, but I've got the next excerpt basically written out so we'll see how it goes.
XX
Dear Brooke,
I met one of your friends today, though the term 'friend' might be bit of an overstatement. Her name is Faith, and she's dreamt about slitting your throat more than once. Doesn't narrow it doesn't much, though, does it? Joking… Sorry, my sense of humor is a little rusty, pretty girl.
In case you've forgotten, and I know you have – Faith hailed from the loserville side of Tree Hill High. My territory, you know? Up until junior year anyway, before Whitey decided that I could shoot a basketball better than I could brood, and the head cheerleader thought I was worth the dent in her reputation. Which I more than love you for, babe.
Faith, however, thinks otherwise.
She still can't believe that a guy like me could end up with a stuck up bitch like you (her words, not mine). And when I told her that it only gets worse and that I'm engaged to be married to you, she right about had a heart attack..
It was a long haul, trying to convince her. Believe me. But I told her to cut you some slack, and that I wasn't defending who you were but who you are.
And that's the girl of my dreams.
She still hasn't cracked, though. In fact, she told me to visit a psychiatrist after that.
Ah, the irony! Who's the stuck up bitch now, eh?