A/N: Thank you again to everybody who is reading this and special thanks to all of you who take time to leave a review. Your feedback is greatly appreciated, good or bad. Love you guys.

Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or any of its characters.

Peyton strode off, wearing a satisfied smirk on her face. Revenge had never tasted sweeter. The look of pure shock on Nathan's face when she'd turned the tables on him was priceless. He would have never expected her to do that. She had to admit it felt good. She started down the first step, but turned around quickly at the first sound of Nathan's raised, angry voice. Shit, I should have known this would happen, she thought to herself as she climbed back up.

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Nathan felt the anger in him rise the minute Peyton spoke those words. Don't worry. It was just sex. His fists clenched tightly, he stalked into the bedroom resembling something close to a wild animal that had just been released from its cage.

"Dude, you're about to wish you'd made your bus!" Nathan thundered viciously, his closed fist connecting successfully with Brent's nose, knocking him to the ground before he even knew what hit him.

Blood poured from his nostrils, but Brent recovered his bearings and picked himself up immediately. Just as quickly, Nathan was on him again, slamming his fist hard into his jaw. Brent stumbled backwards from the blow but managed to keep his balance this time since he'd seen it coming.

"What the hell is your problem?" Brent asked Nathan.

"You're my fucking problem, asshole!" Nathan hollered in answer. "I told you to stay away from Peyton!"

Before Brent could respond, Nathan had closed the gap between them, his hand raised, ready to deliver another punch. Brent didn't want to fight him, but Nathan wasn't exactly leaving him any choice. He took the hit to the eye, but delivered his own to Nathan's cheek. This only served to pump Nathan on further. He shoved Brent forcefully into the wooden unit that held various figurines, car models and trophies, sending them crashing down on top of Brent's head.

Again Brent stood up immediately. His anger now sparked, he charged at Nathan full force, sending them both to the floor, where the fight resumed, both boys throwing an equal amount of punches.

"Stop it!" Peyton shouted for the third time, but neither seemed to hear her. They just continued to roll around on the floor hitting each other. She turned to face the blonde that Nathan had come up with. She was just standing there, watching the fight. And she didn't appear too happy. Probably because she's not the focus of Nathan's attention at the moment, Peyton thought sourly.

Meanwhile Nathan had managed to scramble to his feet, and was now moving toward Brent, who was in the process of standing up himself. Nathan's expression was of pure menace. There was no other way to describe it. He was out for blood and Peyton knew he wouldn't be satisfied until Brent was out cold. She had to do something. Fast.

Without a thought to her own safety, she rushed over and planted herself directly between the two boys, her back toward Brent as she faced Nathan head on. "Nathan! Stop this!" she screamed at him.

"Peyton, get out of the way!" Nathan thundered furiously, as he wiped the blood from his lip with his backhand. Brent was fully standing now and all Nathan wanted to do was knock him back down. But Peyton wasn't budging.

"No!" she said, crossing her arms stubbornly. Anyone else would have cowered away at the deadly glare he shot her, but Peyton stood her ground.

"I mean it, Peyton!" he roared. "Move!"

"No!" she repeated obstinately. "Not until you calm down!"

Nathan gave her a light push, just hard enough so that she no longer posed as a barrier to his intended target, but she came right back.

"PEYTON, I'M NOT FUCKING KIDDING! GET OUT OF THE WAY!" Nathan barked, slamming his own fists together and practically shaking with rage.

"I'm not moving, Nathan," she screamed at him, putting her hands on her hips. "You need to go cool off."

Brent, unsure of what Nathan was capable of in such a state, put his hand on Peyton's shoulder to urge her to do what Nathan was telling her. "Listen to him, Peyton."

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HER!" Nathan hollered, his rage reaching its peak at the sight of Brent's hand on Peyton.

Brent lifted his arms in peace. "Look, I don't want to fight you, man."

"You should have thought of that before messing with my girl," Nathan spat, pointing his index finger at him threateningly. Again he swooped Peyton away with one arm to get nearer to Brent, but Peyton was stubborn and came right back.

"I am not your girl, Nathan!" Peyton yelled angrily. "We broke up, remember?"

Nathan turned his angry gaze on her. "Yeah, and three days later you're fucking this guy? What, you been hanging out with Brooke and Rachel so long, you want to be a slut now too?"

Peyton's jaw nearly hit the floor. They'd called each other a lot of foul names in the ten months they'd dated, but never had he called her a slut. "At least it wasn't before we broke up, you ass," she shouted, pushing at his chest.

His temper blazing, he managed to side step past her and started toward Brent once more, ready to deliver more punishing blows, but Peyton wasn't going anywhere. She jumped in the middle once again. She knew Nathan wouldn't hurt her physically, but he was definitely set on causing Brent severe injury. There was only one way to stop him.

The truth.

"Nothing happened, Nathan!" she said, putting her flat hands on his chest to hold him back.

Flashback of Earlier

Peyton couldn't take it any longer. Seriously, was he doing it on purpose? All night she'd been trying to ignore Nathan and pretend his actions didn't affect her at all – that she couldn't care less how many body shots he took part in or how many hoes he grinded with. Yes, she tried hard to keep up that nonchalant image, just biting her tongue and turning her attention to her friends. But every few seconds her eyes would instinctively search him out, only to find a different girl hanging off him each time.

But she could deal with that. The worse part for her was that for the past twenty minutes he'd stuck with the same girl and she knew that meant he'd made his choice of skank for the night. A busty blonde whose breasts nearly spilled out of her undersized top.

Peyton tried dancing with a few guys to get her mind off it, but it didn't work. So, she decided to flirt mildly with one or two of them, to pay Nathan back. But she wasn't into it and quickly lost interest when Nathan didn't even notice. Those double d's practically shoved in his face must have been blocking his view. Not that he was complaining.

Giving up, she made her way upstairs to one of the bedrooms, wanting a few minutes alone to collect her thoughts. She wouldn't give Nathan the satisfaction of going home, of knowing he'd pissed her off that much. She would just take a moment, compose herself, and then go back downstairs and put on a brave face.

The room was dark save the moonlight seeping through the window. As far as she could tell it was empty so she entered, closing and locking the door behind her to avoid any unwanted interruptions.

She sat on the edge of the bed, trying to erase the images of Nathan and those girls from her thoughts. She must have been sitting there, in the dark, for a good hour before she felt the movement on the bed, letting her know she wasn't alone.

She jumped from the bed with a scream as soon as she heard a male's voice mumbling something incoherently.

Brent removed the blanket that had covered him from his face and bolted in to a sitting position at the sound of her scream. "What? What is it?" he asked, and then squinted when the light was suddenly turned on. "Peyton?"

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know anyone was in here."

Brent looked beside him on the bed in confusion. "That's cool. Where's Cindi?"

"Uh, I don't know any Cindi," Peyton told him. Noticing he was naked, at least from the waist up, she could only guess that he'd taken a girl named Cindi up here and had passed out afterward. The girl, however, was nowhere in sight. "I'm just gonna go."

"No, I'll go," Brent offered. "Just give me a minute to dress." He lifted the blanket. "You may want to turn around though," he added with a smirk.

She quickly turned to face the other direction but noticed she could still see his reflection in the mirror so she turned off the light instead. She could hear the rustling sound as he slipped on his boxers and jeans, but his shirt had apparently been misplaced. Once again she turned the light on and helped him search. She raised her eyebrows at him when he mentioned that it might be on the hallway floor.

"In a hurry much?" she said, unable to contain a small giggle.

He chuckled and lifted the pillow to look under it, as she opened the door to check the hallway and came face to face with the very person she'd been trying to escape.

Peyton took in the scene before her and felt her entire body clench in fury. There he was with another one of his hoes, clearly with one purpose in mind.

"Peyton," he began to speak, and then caught a glimpse of movement inside the room. His eyes narrowed when he noticed what it was. Brent, slipping on a t-shirt. "Peyton, what the hell?" Nathan asked, suddenly angry.

Peyton glanced at Brent, and then turned back to Nathan. "Oh, don't worry," she said, leaning in close to whisper in his ear. "It was just sex."

End of Flashback

"Nothing happened, Ok?" Peyton repeated. "We didn't have sex."

Nathan looked down at her. She felt him calm just the slightest bit at her words, but not enough. He was staring at her like he didn't know what to believe. She shook her head, her eyes locking with his, and reiterated her sentence. "Nothing happened."

She was fully aware that she shouldn't have to answer to Nathan, but at the moment it was the only way to calm him down. She'd lied to him on impulse, out of anger. She'd seen the perfect opportunity for revenge and had jumped on it, enjoying giving him back just a little taste of his own medicine. But she hadn't stopped to consider the repercussions of her little white lie. She should have known something like that would set him off, especially since he'd been drinking. History should have pre-warned her that he'd go after the guy. He'd beat other guys to a bloody pulp for much less reason.

"Then why did you say it did?" Nathan demanded to know. "And why the hell wasn't he wearing a shirt?" he added before she could answer his first question.

Peyton turned to Brent, telling him with one look that he was to take that question.

"Well, we didn't have sex," Brent said, motioning between himself and Peyton. "But, we did," he said, his hand now indicating himself and the blonde Nathan had come up with.

Nathan gave him a look of disbelief. He'd been flirting with this same girl for a few hours now.

"And then apparently I passed out, and well, I see she moved on to you. I guess she didn't get enough."

Peyton couldn't suppress a sarcastic laugh. "Well, good thing you always keep a full supply of condoms, huh?" she said to Nathan. "I hope you used one too," she told Brent. "You never know where else she's been."

"You calling me a whore, bitch?" the girl asked Peyton.

Peyton met her gaze. "Obviously the shoe fits better than the top," she said in disdain. "You really should try shopping in the adult section. The toddler clothes are just a little too small for you."

"You're just jealous," the girl said smugly.

"Why, when I can go buy boobs the same place you did?"

"Think again, girly. These babies are real."

"Even worse," Peyton said. "Ten years from now they'll be hanging to your knees. You'd better reel in the horny men now while you can. Oh wait, you are," she added with a smirk.

Put off by Peyton's haughty expression and tone, not to mention that she'd pleasured both these guys in some way tonight and here they were fighting over her, the girl angrily stepped toward her with an open handed slap to her cheek.

"Oh, you didn't just do that," Peyton said with a smile on her face, coming back with a closed fisted punch to the girl's jaw, instantly knocking her to the ground. "You'll want to stay down," Peyton warned her. "I've been fairly nice so far, but you don't want to piss me off."

The girl scrambled to her feet, but left the room in a hurry.

"Better go after her, Nate. You don't want to miss out on a chance to get laid. Then again, there are plenty more whores downstairs waiting to take her place so I'm sure you're not worried."

"Look," Nathan said. "I tried to talk to you, ok, and you blew me off. What do you want me to do? Sit in a corner all night?"

"Oh no, I wouldn't dream of it," she said sarcastically.

Brent knew it wasn't his place to hear any of this argument, so he decided to slip out. He wasn't worried about Nathan's temper anymore. If the guy hadn't hit her when he was raging mad then he wasn't going to now that his temper had slightly cooled.

"You know," Nathan continued, not even noticing Brent's departure. "I don't get you, Peyton. Yesterday, you come into the locker room and you're all worried about me, and today, you barely say hi to me."

"Yeah, well yesterday you were apologizing to me and wanting to talk about us and today you're back to being a jackass!"

"How am I being a jackass? By having fun instead of moping around like you want me to?"

"You're unbelievable! It's ok for you to have fun, with as many girls as you want, but fists start flying the minute you think I actually hooked up with someone else too!"

"Ok, first of all, I never hooked up with any of your friends like you made me think you did. Second, I know sex is a big deal to you, so yeah, it pissed me off that you'd just up and change who you are just to get back at me, and third, look who the hell's talking about flying fists! You just got in a fight over fucking chest size. Call me crazy, but I think I had a more valid reason."

"You have no right to dictate what I do or who I sleep with! We are not together anymore."

"I know that, Peyton. But you also know that I want us to be."

"Well you have a hell of a way of showing it," Peyton told him as she stormed out of the room.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––

Peyton wandered around town aimlessly, needing to get away from the party, from Nathan, but not wanting to go home either.

She'd found Brent before she'd left and apologized to him for the mess she'd gotten him into. He'd reassured her that she wasn't at fault, but she felt responsible just the same. If she hadn't lied, Nathan wouldn't have gone off on him like that. He'd simply laughed and made the comment that he thought only guys ever made up stories about who they slept with. She'd chuckled at that also, glad that he was able to joke about her mistake rather than be angry about it.

She couldn't honestly say that she was disappointed in Nathan's blatant display of jealousy. Maybe it was wrong to feel this way, that's what her common sense told her, but her heart rejoiced nonetheless. Oh, this was so confusing, yet so typical, this battle between her heart and mind. She knew she should hate Nathan for everything he's done to her. She wanted to hate him. Now if only her heart would cooperate.

She ended up at a small café, surprised to see that it was open so late. She read the sign. Karen's Café. She'd been in it twice before but it had been a while since she had. She remembered she had liked the food and the coffee was good too. She wasn't hungry but there was a chill in the air that caused her to shiver. The cafe seemed like a nice little spot to sit and relax as she warmed up.

The place was empty so she had her choice of table. She chose one by the window so she could look out. She instantly recognized the boy wiping down the tables. Lucas.

Lucas had been just wiping down the last of the tables before closing up, anxious to get home. He was so tired. Then Peyton had walked in. He walked over to her table as casually as he could with his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

"Sorry," Peyton said. "Were you just about to close?"

"No," he lied. "We stay open pretty late on Fridays."

"Until what time?"

"Until the place dies down."

Peyton looked around. "It seems pretty dead already, considering there aren't any customers."

"That's not true. There's one customer."

"Yeah, now."

"That's all it takes," he told her. "So, can I help you?" he asked, then recalled her reaction when he'd asked her that very same question at the Rivercourt three days ago. She'd been so hostile toward him. "Let me rephrase," he joked. "Can I get you something to eat or drink?"

She gave him a tiny smile, remembering the incident as well. "Hey, listen. Sorry I was such a bitch. It was a bad day."

Lucas nodded. "Is today a better day?"

"No. Not really. But I've just used up all of my bitch energy, I guess. Now I'm just exhausted."

He noticed the bruise that had recently formed on her cheek and wondered how she got it. "So, what can I get you?" he repeated, not wanting to pry.

"Got any whiskey? Straight up if you do."

"Sorry."

"Then I'll settle for a coffee."

He went around the counter and poured her a cup and returned.

"Thanks," she said when he handed it to her.

He went back to wiping tables, or actually re-wiping them since he'd already washed them all. "So, what brings you out this late?" he asked. And by yourself? he wanted to add.

"Just needed to get away," was all she revealed.

Several minutes passed before either of them spoke again. "So how long have you been working here?" Peyton finally asked.

"My whole life basically. My mom owns it."

"Oh. Well good for her."

"Yeah. I'm pretty proud of her," Lucas stated.

"Why are guys such jerks?" she asked out of the blue, taking him by surprise.

Lucas smiled. "Guys or Nathan?"

"Him mostly, I guess."

"I'm probably not the right guy to ask about that."

"Yeah, I know. I was just thinking out loud, that's all," she said, before falling back into silence. "Well, I should go," she said when she'd finished her coffee. "How much do I owe you?"

"It's on the house," Lucas replied.

"No seriously, I didn't come here looking for charity."

"Seriously, I was going to dump the rest of the pot anyway."

"Ok," she agreed. "Well thanks, and uh, guess I'll see ya at school."

"Hey, it's pretty late. How about I walk you to your car?"

Peyton laughed. "You'd have to walk a couple miles. I left my car at the party I came here from."

"You're walking?

"Well, I was drinking so I didn't want to drive."

"Why don't I give you a ride home?" Lucas offered, muttering a silent oath to all her friends who'd let her just take off walking.

"No, it's fine," Peyton said. "I think I'll survive the dangerous streets of Tree Hill," she joked.

"I insist," Lucas argued.

She nodded appreciatively. She really didn't want to walk all the way home. "Thanks."

"Anytime."