-1Girl America

I know this love you're chasing.

Brooke was a backseat driver.

This, Nathan discovered very quickly. She directed turns like she was his own personal GPS system; narrated the colors of the traffic light like he was blind. If he waited too long to brake, she would squeal and brace herself against the dashboard, then reprimand him for having such poor reaction time.

But worse than all that, she was a radio hog.

"No." He slapped her hands away from the knobs for the hundredth time. "Mine."

"Come on," she protested, itching to change just one of his presets. "I can't stand anymore rap."

"We've only been on the road an hour," he argued, glancing into the rearview mirror as he prepared to change lanes.

She twisted in her seat to check for cars. "Don't go yet. And shouldn't we be switching off or something? You know - okay, it's clear, go - an hour with your stupid gangster music, an hour of my choice?"

Nathan scoffed. "Your choice? Which would be, what, Britney Spears? No, thanks."

"Hm, I was thinking more Hannah Montana," Brooke sneered, then rolled her eyes. "Just because I'm a cheerleader with great fashion sense doesn't mean I automatically like bubblegum pop, Nathan. I'll have you know, there's plenty more music I enjoy."

"Like what?" he challenged.

"Ryan Adams, Jack Johnson, Colbie Caillat, Ben Gibbard." She ticked them off on her fingers, skipping around so that she could linger on the middle one.

"Classy," he laughed, taking one hand off the wheel to close his palm over hers. "And I've never heard of any of those people. How can I be sure you're not just making them up?"

She heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Just because they don't rhyme "ho" with "fo' sho'" doesn't mean I made them up, Nathan. And both hands on the wheel, please."

"Fine," he relented, resisting the urge to steer with his knees just to piss her off. "You can control the radio for exactly one hour. On one condition - you stop telling me how to drive."

"I'm not -" One disbelieving look from him had her shutting her mouth. "Okay, I am. And I'll stop. Just, please, no more Soulja Boy."

She found a station that played more mellow music, a nice blend of surfer-stoner-soulful songs, and damned if Nathan didn't find himself humming along by the end of her allotted hour.

XXX

"Oh, my God, this traffic sucks," Brooke moaned, leaning sideways in her seat to rest her head on the windowpane. It had been anther two hours and it felt like they'd only gone that many miles. "I could walk faster."

Nathan's patience was wearing thin as well. "Go 'head," he invited, gesturing to the shoulder of the road. "I'll meet you in Boston."

She stuck her tongue out in response.

"Mature," he told her, trying to turn his chuckle into a cough so as not to encourage her. "And attractive."

Wanting to take advantage of his good mood while it lasted, Brooke straightened up, putting on her best pout. "Can't we get off the highway? Just for a little bit?"

Now, he laughed. "Aren't you the one who pushed me into making this little pilgrimage?"

"And I still fully support it," she was quick to promise. "I just didn't think it'd be so boring getting there. Come on. Let's take a break, refuel, maybe eat something. By the time we get back on track, maybe we'll actually be able to move faster than the turtle that keeps passing us."

He was convinced not by her pout, but by the mention of food. "Okay," he decided, flicking his blinker on to move into the exit lane. "I guess we're not really getting anywhere, anyway."

XXX

"Stop!"

Heart in his throat, Nathan slammed on the brakes and glanced wildly around for whatever small animal or child Brooke had seen that he hadn't. "What? What is it?"

"Turn right," she directed, eyes focused on something in the distance. "Come on, Nathan, turn right - come on, right here."

He did so, grumbling the whole time. "Did we not discuss the backseat driving thing? Unless I'm about to run over your grandmother, you are no longer allowed to say a word."

"Okay, now park here," Brooke instructed, clearly not listening to his lecture.

"What is your deal?" he wondered aloud, pulling into the space she'd indicated. "Seriously, Brooke, you nearly gave me a heart attack, yelling like that."

Finally, he had her attention. "I know, I know. Sorry. No more backseat driving. But look!" Thrilled with their luck, she grabbed his hand. "Starbucks."

He followed her line of vision to the familiar green and white awning. "Coffee. You almost killed me for coffee." Sighing, Nathan shook his head. "Brooke, there was coffee at the gas station. And the diner."

"Coffee, but not Starbucks," she argued, already scrambling her way out of the car. "Oh, man, a mocha latte with double espresso, I can't wait. Come on."

Nathan couldn't believe the turn his life had suddenly taken. Two nights ago, he'd been hours away from getting married. Now, he was being dragged along the Eastern seaboard by Brooke; following her every direction without question.

In fact, it was kind of strange how easily she'd slipped into control of his life. He may have been the one behind the wheel, but he certainly wasn't steering.

"Nathan." Brooke, realizing he wasn't behind her, put one hand on her hip as she waited. "What's the hold up?"

He lifted his arms, then let them fall to his sides, at a loss for words. "How did I let you talk me into this?"

"Into what?" She glanced at the Starbucks behind her, then back at him. "Nate, it's just coffee, it'll take two minutes. I'm gonna get it to go."

"This isn't about Starbucks," he said in exasperation. "It's this whole insane thing. Why do I have to put myself on the line and go after Haley? Why can't I just turn around and go back to Tree Hill and wait for her to come home?"

"Because she might not!" Brooke burst out.

Stunned, Nathan took a step back. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not - I'm not saying she doesn't love you," Brooke hurried on. "I wouldn't have talked you into this if I thought she didn't. But I know, Nathan, and I wish I didn't, but I know that sometimes people don't come back. Sometimes people just get too damn scared of how much love can hurt. And I don't want that to happen to you and Haley."

"Brooke, I ..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say. He'd never seen Brooke so visibly upset. "I didn't mean to ..."

"It's fine," she cut in. Pushing her hair back, she took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "Really. I'm sorry for yelling. And we can go home, if you want. I just ... the guy I loved left me and I can't do anything about it. And I didn't want that to happen to you, too."

Nathan stared. "Why not?"

The corners of her mouth lifted a fraction. "Because you're my friend."

It was stupid to be so touched. She had yanked him out of a peaceful pity session and dragged him onto a traffic-congested highway on a quest to quite possibly humiliate himself in front of the only girl he'd ever loved, who had chosen to leave him in the dust only days ago. She could actually be setting him up for the biggest disappointment of his life. But the way she said they were friends, like he was silly to even question it, made the corners of his mouth turn upwards, too.

"Okay," he accepted, closing the distance between them and sliding one arm around her shoulders. "Okay, friend, let's go get you some coffee, huh? But maybe not double espresso. You seem a little on edge."

Laughing, she nodded and allowed herself to be held close as they entered the store.