A/N: Again, thanks to all the readers and especially the reviewers with all the feedback and encouragement. It is so much appreciated. Thank you all.

I hope everyone had a Happy New Year!!!

Marissa, I think you might want to marry me after this. LOL. Ok, maybe not, but I think you'll enjoy it!

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

"Brooke, get off my ass," Nathan grumbled.

Brooke giggled at the common phrase because Nathan actually meant it literally. While she'd gone to the fridge to get herself another beer, Nathan had decided to get off the couch and sprawl out, flat on his stomach, across the living room floor. But Brooke was not having that. No way he was showing up at her door, half trashed, at 2 a.m., waking her up, convincing her to have some drinks with him, getting her in total party mode, and then passing out. Not happening.

She currently stood right where he said, one foot on each cheek, balancing herself amazingly well for being on her fourth beer. She'd had to drink fast in order to catch up to Nathan's state, but she was far from it still. Of course, she couldn't out-drink Nathan since he was so much bigger than her, but, like him, she was a seasoned drinker so four beer gave her hardly more than a slight buzz. But it certainly left her wanting more. However, she wasn't one to drink alone.

"I'll get off when you get up," she promised, to which Nathan started laughing.

"I knew you were into me," he told her.

"I didn't mean it like that, you perv," she chided. "Come on, Nate," she whined. "You're the one who wanted to party and now you're flaking on me," she continued, bouncing on his backside.

"Ow!" Nathan complained. "How much do you fucking weigh?" he asked, knowing it would get a rise out of her.

He wasn't wrong. Her jaw dropped at his remark. "Oh no, you didn't."

"I did," he contradicted. "I swear it feels like I got a giant hyppotanopus standing on me."

"A what?" Brooke questioned with amusement.

"A hyttoppamonus…hymmopotapus…whatever," he said, shaking his head. "A hippo," he said with finality.

"Hippopotamus?" Brooke clarified teasingly.

"Yeah. Try saying that drunk. Or really fast over and over."

Brooke jumped off him and came to sit beside where he lay. "Remember when we did the Peter Piper one at Tim's with a mouthful of peanut butter?"

Nathan sat up, laughing. "Yeah, and his mom was freaking out because we were spewing peanut butter everywhere. And you were like, chill out, lady, it washes."

Brooke put her hand to her mouth and nodded as the memory became more vivid. "Oh, and then you started saying that 'Tim' one," Brooke reminded him further.

"Yeah. How did that one go again?…Tim the thin…"

"Twin tinsmith," she replied. "Tim the thin twin tinsmith."

They both started repeating it as they had when they were kids, laughing hysterically when their tongues got more twisted than they had back then.

They continued to reminisce, drink and laugh, but as alcohol was prone to do, mood swings were inevitable, and Nathan, in a moment of reflective depression, decided he wanted to talk to Peyton.

"It's been a long enough time, right?" he said, taking out his phone and pressing one from his contact's list. "Maybe she's not mad at me anymore." He pressed it again when it went to her voicemail and handed it over to Brooke. "She'll probably pick up if it's you," he told her logically. Or at least he thought so.

"Well, duh," Brooke, who hadn't drank nearly as much, mocked. "This is still your phone. It's not like she can see who's holding it."

He stared at her blankly before his mind registered what she meant. "Oh, right. Use your phone then."

"I'm not waking her up and neither are you."

"I just want to talk to her for a minute, Brooke. Just one minute, that's all."

Brooke shook her head firmly. "She didn't pick up for you so she's either sleeping or still mad at you. So let her be, until morning at least."

"It is morning," he countered.

"Daylight morning."

He leaned back against the couch discouragingly. "I didn't even do anything, Brooke. And she still dumped me."

"Hey, come on, this is a party," Brooke said enthusiastically. "No sob stories allowed."

"It's not a party," he mumbled. "There's only two of us."

"So, we can still have fun. Come on, cheer up."

"If this was a real party, I'd be getting laid right about now."

"Yeah, me too, but let's just make the best of it, ok," she said.

"I could really go for a good fuck," he said matter of factly. "Either that or pizza," he added. "That sounds good too."

"Right, cause they're close to the same," Brooke stated with amused sarcasm.

"No, I'm serious. You want some?"

"Some?"

"Pizza," he clarified. "And you call me a perv."

"You are," Brooke said. "Just checking, to make sure you're not hitting on me."

"You wish I was hitting on you," he replied with a smirk. "Hey, Brooke?" he said, after they'd been silent for several minutes. "Who was that chick you were talking to in the hallway last week?"

A soft giggle escaped Brooke's lips. The question was ridiculous to her, considering how many people she talked to in a week. "You're gonna have to be more specific than girl and hallway if you expect me to know who you mean."

"She was blonde, and really hot."

"Oh!" Brooke exclaimed as though she just clued in. "That's my best friend, Peyton Sawyer, AKA your girlfriend," she joked.

Nathan rolled his eyes at her. Peyton was hot; that was a given. "No, she had like, really straight hair and she was carrying around shirts or something in her bag."

"Oh, Shelly," Brooke answered with a sneer. "Why?"

Nathan shrugged carelessly. "Nothing. I just thought she was hot."

"And?"

"And I thought, you know, maybe you could call her over."

"Why? Cause you're horny?"

"Actually, yeah," he replied simply.

"Hello! P. Sawyer's best friend here."

"So? We're best friends too."

"Nathan, I am not getting a girl here so that you can cheat on Peyton again."

"It's not cheating," Nathan told her. "She dumped me."

"Whatever, you'll be back together in five seconds."

"Brooke…"

"No, Nathan, forget it," Brooke stated adamantly. "Go self serve if you need to, but don't get me involved. Besides, Shelly wouldn't go for it anyway. She's a clean teen."

"A what?"

"Clean teen. It's a virgin club, where all the members pledge to be virgins for life, which is actually just until marriage."

"So, why are you hanging out with her?"

"I'm not. She's trying to get me and Rachel to join her pathetic little club."

"Why? Neither of you are virgins."

"Oh, but we can become born again virgins, don't you know? We don't have to sell our cow if the milk is free, or sell our milk if the cow is free…something like that."

Nathan chuckled. "Ok. Well, maybe you should join," he suggested.

"Yeah right," Brooke replied, scoffing at his comment.

"Brooke, I'm serious. You're sleeping around with all these guys and none of them know the real you. They get their information from the bathroom stalls."

Brooke gave him a dimpled smile. "There's stuff about me in there?" she asked, almost proudly.

"Yeah, and not good stuff either. It's all about what a great and easy lay you are."

"Really?" she responded, swallowing the unexpected sting his words gave her. "Well, you don't want to know what's written in our stalls about you, Mr. Boytoy. I'll join the club when you do," she challenged.

Nathan snickered at her reply. "Ok, ok, I'm sorry. I just wish you'd get with a decent guy who wouldn't write crap about you on the walls."

"That would be nice, Nate," Brooke said softly. "But so far none of the guys I've met have been interested in anything else."

"That's because of what you put out there. No guy's gonna say, 'no, let's not have sex, let's just talk and get to know each other instead,' when you're right in front of him, taking your clothes off. And if one does, then he's gay."

"I don't know, Nate. Let's face it; some girls you settle down with, and some girls you have fun with."

"Brooke…"

"And I'm fine with that right now," she interrupted his protest.

"Are you? Cause I don't think you are."

"What are you, a shrink now?"

"No, but I think I know you pretty well."

"Well, duh, we've been friends for ages."

"I also think I could break that virgin club girl's pledge if I wanted to," he remarked, knowing she'd want to lighten the mood.

Brooke chuckled. "I guess if anyone could, it would be you."

"Is that your roundabout way of saying I'm hot?" he teased.

"Yeah, I suppose it is," she admitted.

He gave her a wink but made no reply.

"You know, most people, when given a compliment, give one back," she pointed out.

"I know," he acknowledged. "I was just trying to come up with one," he said. "That wasn't lame!" he quickly added when she started smacking him repeatedly. "You didn't let me finish," he accused, laughing heartily. "But seriously, Brooke, you don't need me to tell you anything. You already know you're hot."

"Oh, like you don't," she remarked lightly, smiling at him. It was nice to hear him laugh. He seemed to hit highs and lows in just the few hours he'd been here and she far preferred his comical side to his miserable side. "You know, if you weren't with Peyton, I would so take you up on the ripping Shelley's pathetic little pledge into a million pieces thing," Brooke stated viciously, realizing after she'd spoken that it probably wasn't a good idea to bring Peyton up again when he was in a good mood.

But Nathan only chuckled and replied. "I didn't say it like that."

"Whatever. That's how I'm saying it. But as much as I'd love to throw that judgmental bitch's words back in her stupid, little face, I wouldn't do that to Peyton. And you shouldn't be thinking about it either."

"We're not together, Brooke," he reminded her again. "She broke up with me, remember? Which means I can do what I want."

"Like you don't anyway, even when you're together," she said, giving him a hard shove. "You're such a jackass."

"What's the difference? Even when I don't cheat on her, she still thinks I did."

"There's a reason for that."

"Look, I know, ok," he said dismissively, wanting to be spared the lecture. "But I didn't cheat this time. Jess just wears too much fucking perfume. You know that."

Brooke nodded. She knew Jessica Lee, formerly Jessica Watson, pretty well. The woman had babysat her and Nathan both several times when their parents had gone on outings together, and even when she wasn't babysitting her, Brooke was often over at Nathan's while she was watching him. Brooke had always admired the other girl, but it was true, she did tend to go a little heavy on the scents.

"Question is," Brooke began carefully, "how did it get on you?"

Nathan frowned at her. "Because she gave me a hug, two actually – one when I got there and another when I left. What, you think I'm gonna screw my aunt?"

"I don't know. I remember you had that huge crush on her…"

"Brooke! I was a little kid!"

"Chill out. I'm just teasing you," Brooke assured him. "So, you really went to Cooper's?" she asked, studying his face closely. "You're not lying?"

"I swear it's true."

"Swear on Chip's grave," she said, referring to the injured squirrel they'd found when they were ten years old, and had taken it upon themselves to name. Despite their tender care and best attempts at saving the poor thing, it had been dead three days later when they'd checked their hiding spot where they'd kept him. They'd dug a hole at the same place and buried him there. Brooke had cried for a week straight, feeling like she'd failed the tiny animal. Nathan hadn't cried, but he'd been upset as well. Neither had ever been allowed a pet so they'd quickly grown attached to it.

"Brooke, that's stupid," Nathan grumped. "It's just a fucking squirrel."

"On Chip's grave, are you telling the truth or not?" Brooke repeated, knowing full well he'd loved the squirrel as much as she had, despite his now macho attempts to cover it up.

"Yes!" he insisted. "On Chip's grave."

"Ok," Brooke said, nodding with satisfaction. "Then we need to talk to Peyton and explain the situation."

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Peyton sat at her desk, at 6 a.m., overlooking her sketches, mainly one of her latest – 'He Always Comes Back'. She'd been staring at it ever since Nathan had called her a few hours ago. He'd called twice, and she wondered why, since he never attempted to contact her on the first night of a breakup. He usually waited a few days. But her anger at him had surpassed her curiosity; therefore she'd refused to pick up. She had, however, checked to see if he'd left a message. There was no harm in that and she couldn't have stopped herself if she'd tried. But he hadn't left one.

She hadn't gotten any sleep last night; she'd been too angry and upset. She didn't know why Nathan's cheating had come as such a shock. It shouldn't have, considering how many times he'd done it. But she'd believed him when he'd told her he was at Cooper's. How many times could she play the fool? Fall for his lies? How could she be foolish enough to trust him? Oh, she knew he would eventually start straying again, soon even, but for some reason, she hadn't expected him to be with one of his whores last night. Not when he'd just been suspended from basketball and was surely upset. Although, now that she'd pondered it all night, why wouldn't he? With a random girl he could get lost in the sex, forget his problems, and not have to talk about anything. It was probably exactly what he'd needed.

She hastily wiped her eyes. You'd think she'd be cried out by now, but no, it seemed her tear ducts produced an endless amount of fresh tears.

When her phone rang a few minutes later, she had no idea that soon she'd be crying for a whole other reason. She checked the caller ID. Jessica Lee. Peyton answered, and was told by the woman on the other line that she was Cooper's wife and that Nathan had dropped by the night before. Apparently Nathan had been supposed to call her last night to let her know he'd arrived back in Tree Hill safely. She would have called sooner, but assumed it was too late so waited until morning. She'd also joked about leaving Nathan a message and calling him, and how she wasn't surprised that he'd neither picked up nor replied.

Peyton got through the conversation, a million thoughts running through her mind. When the call ended, she sat there in a daze, wondering how to take this new information. Nathan really had gone to Cooper's. But then why had he smelled of ladies' cologne?

Minutes later, Brooke called and she made the situation more clear. When her friend went on to say what a mess Nathan had been last night, is when Peyton completely broke down with tears of joy, anguish and guilt. She was happy Nathan hadn't betrayed her last night, but she felt horrible because when Nathan had needed her most, she'd thrown him out. Instead of comforting him, as he'd needed, she'd hurled accusations at him. False accusations.

So he'd gone on a drinking binge, his friends had found him and subsequently brought him to Brooke's. Thank God for Brooke, Peyton thought, not for the first time. But it should have been her. She shouldn't have turned him away, should have listened to what he was trying to tell her. He should have been able to count on his girlfriend to keep a cool head, hear him out and just be there for him.

She had to see him. She had to tell him how sorry she was. She only hoped that he would forgive her.

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Lucas took slow, easy steps from his bedroom to the kitchen, where he noticed his mother sitting at the kitchen table, a frown marring her otherwise pretty features, as she looked over various papers.

"What's that?" Luke asked her.

Karen's head shot up at the sound of his voice and she rushed to his side. "What are you doing up? You get back into bed Lucas Eugene Scott!" she ordered sternly.

"Ma, I just want a drink."

"I'll get you one."

"You know, I'm gonna have to fend for myself at some point," he said reasonably. "Like when you open the café again."

"Work can wait until you're better."

"Can the household expenses wait too?" he asked knowingly. "That's what you're worried about, isn't it?" he added, indicating the papers sprawled out over the table. "The bills piling up?"

Karen sighed. Her son wasn't stupid, and she wasn't about to lie to him. "Yes," she answered him honestly. "The household bills and the hospital bill. I don't know how I'm going to pay it," she admitted.

"What do you mean? Don't we have insurance?"

"Not enough," she stated. "Even if I opened the café, I wouldn't earn enough to cover everything."

Lucas felt the anger burn within him. His mother shouldn't have to worry about his medical expenses. He shouldn't have any medical expenses.

"I just don't know what to do," Karen continued. "But I don't want you to worry about it. You concentrate on getting better. Keith offered to help out, so I think I may take him up on it."

"What about Dan?" Lucas asked coolly.

"No," Karen said just as coolly.

"Why not?" Lucas asked. "This shouldn't have to fall all on you. He is my father and he's loaded. He should have to provide at least some financial help when we need it."

"Lucas…"

"Ma, for seventeen years, he hasn't forked over a dime for support. He owes you. And I think it's about time you cashed in."