Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or any of its characters.
A/N: Hiya all. Here is the next chapter. It's a pretty long one, which hopefully makes up for the longer delays in updates lately. Just 7 ½ more weeks of school and then updates should get back to normal until the end of the story (because yeah, believe it or not, there is an ending in sight…lol) Thank you as always to my dedicated readers, as well as new readers, and, of course, reviewers. You're the best. Love ya all and now onto the chapter. Hope you enjoy it.
….
The next morning, Peyton rummaged through her closet, searching for the leather skirt she'd bought ages ago but had never worn. Finding it, she smiled and held it against herself. It was short—even by her standard—and exactly what she wanted. Nathan was going to go crazy seeing her in this.
Nathan. The very thought of him brought an even wider smile to her flawless complexion.
She'd gone after him yesterday at the school, following his display of emotion, but hadn't caught him on time before he'd caught a ride with Tyler and Teresa. So instead, she'd gone to his house. She'd had to let him know that she did feel a difference in their relationship this time around, and apologize for not realizing it sooner.
She'd ringed his doorbell, biting the inside of her cheek and hoping beyond hope that Deb didn't answer it. Considering the things she'd said to her the last time she'd seen her at the courthouse—jumping down her throat for all the ways she'd hurt Nathan, and for not believing in his innocence—Peyton wasn't sure the woman would welcome her into her home anymore.
It wasn't that Peyton regretted her words. On the contrary. As far as Peyton was concerned, they were a long time coming. Her only regret stemmed from the possibility of being banned from her boyfriend's home, as he was from hers.
But to her surprise, and to Deb's credit, the woman had been extremely pleasant and welcoming toward her son's girlfriend, and other than an apologetic smile shared between the two, their previous meeting seemed all but forgotten.
It might have had something to do with the fact that Cooper and Jess were still down and Jess had given her usual bubbly welcome. But Peyton didn't think that was it. To her, it was simply understood that one girl, herself, had needed to say those things, while the other, Deb, had needed to hear them.
Deb had directed her up to Nathan's room, insisting, however, that the bedroom door be left open. Peyton had found Nathan pacing his room, phone in hand, and desperately searching the options for a way to block Katie's number. He'd given up when Peyton had come in.
At first he'd just looked at her, clearly still upset with her, and though it took a while, she finally managed to get him to come around and talk to her.
It was the longest conversation they'd ever had. They'd talked about everything—from where they stood now, to their parents, their friends, to his return to the center and anger management.
To her art. He'd still insisted that she go back to it; that he didn't want her to quit. Peyton's features took on a soft, dreamy expression as her mind went back to that particular topic.
Flashback
"Why not, Peyton?" he asked when she refused to even go there. "You love drawing."
"I love you more," she told him dismissively. "Didn't we already settle this?"
"No, you wanted me to drop it while the rape thing was going on so I did," he replied. "But you said if it was still an issue when I got out of jail, then we'd talk about it some more."
"You had to remember that?" she deadpanned.
"Yes. And guess what? It's still an issue."
"For you maybe," she countered. "But I don't see what the big deal is. You said the comic strip was stupid, remember?"
"Like I said before," he answered with a shameful sigh. "I don't want to make you quit something you love to do."
"You're not. Like I before, it's my decision," she stressed. "And you're not denying that you think it's stupid," she added pointedly.
"The comic strip, yeah, I think it's stupid," he admitted. "It's cartoon drawings pretty much shooting down our entire world. It's insulting and a serious waste of your talent. I told you before, your stuff belongs in some fancy art gallery.
"That's shooting high for a beginner artist," she answered though a huge part of her marveled at his confidence.
"Like my dad says, if you're gonna shoot for something, may as well aim high," he replied.
"Your dad's a pushy jackass with unreasonable expectations," she pointed out.
He smiled at her. "Most of the time yeah. But he also believes in pushing hard to get where you want to be."
"You mean in pushing you hard to get you where he wants you to be."
"You're changing the subject."
"Yes I am."
"Well don't."
She shook her head. "Nathan, you used to say my drawings were a waste long before I started at Thud."
"No," he denied. "I said you were wasting your time on them if you were only gonna hide them in a drawer where no one can see them."
She bit her bottom lip. That was true. Technically, that is what he'd always said. "Maybe I went to other girls because you were so wrapped up in your own little world half the time that you barely even noticed that I was around," she shot out as a reminder of the words he'd once told her.
He simply stared at her, guilt on his handsome face, offering no reply.
So she continued. "Do you even want to be with me, Peyton cuz half the time it doesn't feel like you do," she supplied another time he'd said something similar. Again she waited for his response but there was none forthcoming. And so she went on. "A lot of times it felt like you wished I would just disappear."
"Peyt…"
"These are words that came out of your mouth, Nathan, and at different times. Do you remember?"
He rubbed his hands over his face. "I was being a jerk…"
"You were being honest," she countered. "My art has caused nothing but problems for us and you tried to tell me all along how it made you feel, but I didn't pay any attention. I made you think that you mattered less than it did and then wondered why you'd turn to others…"
"Stop it," he demanded.
"I would wonder what was so bad about our sex life, what I was doing wrong…"
"Peyton, come on," he tried to interrupt, not liking where this conversation was going.
However, Peyton wasn't finished. "But it was never about the sex, and you tried to tell me that too. It was about me always pushing you away, and you just needing to feel wanted."
"Babe, just stop. Please."
"That's why our relationship would be so good for a few weeks after getting back together—cuz in those few weeks it was just about you and me, like it should be. But then I'd get caught up in my art again and start pushing you away again…"
"Peyton, enough!" he shouted.
"No, Nathan," she returned. "I'm tired of you being blamed for all our problems when I played at least an equal part in it. I was so closed off and distant toward you a lot of times that I practically pushed you into those other girls' arms."
Finally getting a word in edgewise, Nathan frowned and came back with. "It doesn't sound like you're trying to take your part of the blame, Peyton. Sounds like you're trying to take it all."
"Well maybe I deserve it."
He shook his head. "No, you don't," he insisted. "Look," he went on when she stared at him doubtfully. "I handled things all wrong before. I couldn't take you being passionate about something other than me, even though I expected you to understand that I had basketball. So yeah, I guess in that way it is your fault," he said sarcastically. "For not catering to that stupid, selfish part of me that wanted your world to revolve around me and nothing else, cuz the second it wasn't all about me anymore…well, I don't have to tell you what happened," he continued. "So you win, Peyton. It was all your fault. And thanks, by the way, cuz now I don't have to feel guilty for treating you so bad. You do."
End of Flashback
Neither had spoken for several seconds after that, and then grins had broken out on both their faces before the conversation had resumed. He'd insisted he could better handle her passions now that he didn't see them as competition for her time. They would see about that since, by threatening to quit basketball if she didn't, he'd managed to convince her to take her art back up.
He'd at first shrugged off her promises of never putting her art ahead of him, but had conceded when she'd pressed it. She knew him well enough to know that he was glad to hear it even though he didn't want to admit it. And she was happy too. Happy to know that he was starting to understand, or at least try to, how much her art meant to her.
He'd went on about her suspicions earlier that day about his cheating. He felt it was clear, after all she'd said, that her lack of sexual interest in him that morning is what had brought on these suspicions. He'd asked if she believed he would go off and cheat on her for simply being too hungover to sleep with him as he'd wanted.
Coupled with the fact that he wasn't answering his cell, she'd had to admit that that had been exactly where her mind had taken her.
She'd apologized profusely but he'd brushed it off and made his own confession that in the past, that would have been reason enough for him to stray. It was an acknowledgment on his part that her mistrust was on him. He never had given her any reasons to trust him.
Until now. He'd offered an apology as well and stated that things were really going to be different this time—something he'd said multiple times, but that honestly rang true to her now.
"Just like that, huh?" she'd asked anyway. "All of a sudden you're this loyal, faithful boyfriend?"
He'd shaken his head and denied the fact that it had been 'just like that'. "It should have been," he'd said. "But I was the idiot that took almost losing you for good to care what a jackass I've been."
She'd laughed and reminded him that she hadn't even made it three months before she couldn't handle it anymore and had gone back to him.
"That was three months too long," he'd replied. "But I'm glad you did it. Otherwise, I would have never shaped up and would have just kept on hurting you."
"We would have kept on hurting each other," Peyton had amended.
After that they'd fallen into each other's arms, but thanks to Deb's insistence on keeping the door open, were unable to get to the true makeup session they were both itching for.
So they'd continued talking, until her dad had called and ordered her home.
She had a lecture awaiting her when she got there, about leaving for days on end without calling and, of course, spending time with Nathan. But she'd ignored her father's speech, refusing to let anything spoil her good mood. She didn't want to fight with her dad, she really didn't. But he didn't understand her feelings for Nathan and that she wasn't giving him up for anything.
She shook her head and returned to the task at hand—her clothing. Grabbing a tank top from her drawer—one Nathan loved due to the midriff it showed off—she headed toward the shower.
When she finally made it downstairs, she was surprised to find her father sitting at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper. And the way he looked at her clearly suggested that he didn't approve of her attire.
"Daddy, hey," she said, twirling her hair subconsciously. "I thought you'd be at work."
"That much is clear," he returned. "Go change," he ordered. "You're not going to school like that," he added sharply.
"Daddy…"
"Peyton, I am very serious. Don't bother arguing because you won't win this one."
She rolled her eyes and huffed toward the stairway. "Fine."
"Nathan like you dressing like this for him?" he asked as she reached the foot of the stairs.
She spun around. "Who said it's for him?"
"You might wish I was blind, Peyton, but I'm far from it. And if this is the kind of stuff he likes you to wear, that should tell you something about what he's interested in."
Again she rolled her eyes at the comment. "He liked when I wore his engagement ring too," she threw out, of course, not letting on that it still dangled on the chain around her neck. "What does that say about his interests?"
"Go change," he replied, not having an answer for that.
She did as he asked. Or so he thought. Smiling mischievously, she threw a pair of jeans over her skirt, along with an oversized sweatshirt over the tank top.
"This work better for you," she asked snarkily when she went back down and faced Larry.
He glanced up. "Much," he said. The jeans were a little tight for a father's liking, but he could let that go. "I really like your sweater," he told her.
She smiled sweetly at him. "Thanks. It's Nathan's, actually."
He grunted in response but didn't comment on it further. "Listen, you didn't give me a chance last night to give you your phone messages. That kid you're doing the project with….what's his name?"
"Damien?" she asked, her brows arching curiously.
"That's it. He called."
"Did he say what he wanted?"
"He mentioned that now that's Nathan's been freed, you'd probably be looking for ways to back out of working on the project," Larry informed her. "I ensured him that wouldn't happen. Now don't prove me wrong."
"Umm, ok," Peyton said in confusion. The 'project', after all, had only been a ruse in order for her to visit Nathan in jail. Why on earth would Damien be calling about that? She'd be sure to ask him about it at school.
"And a girl too," Larry said, cutting into her thoughts. "That Katie that's been all over the news this week," he added, watching Peyton's expression carefully. He knew who this girl was and wanted to see how his daughter reacted.
"Katie?" she asked in bewilderment. "Katie called here?"
Larry responded with a nod. "She wanted your cell number but I figured if she didn't already have it, it wasn't up to me to give it to her." As his daughter remained silent, he went on. "It sounded urgent. She said it's imperative that she speak to you ASAP. Her number's still on the phone if you want to call her back."
Peyton frowned and scoffed at the idea of doing that. It wasn't bad enough she was harassing Nathan, she had to start in on her too?
"She asked that you call as soon as you can," Larry informed her.
"Well, she'll be waiting a long time," Peyton returned snidely.
Larry sent his daughter a look, not surprised that she wouldn't want to hear from the girl who'd testified against Nathan in court. She might actually have something solid to prove his guilt in Peyton's eyes, but his daughter preferred to remain so damn blind where that boy was concerned. "What's it gonna take for you to open your eyes, Peyton?" he asked desperately. "For him to do the same to you as he did to her and Haley?"
Peyton's eyes darkened and she instantly snapped at him. "For the hundredth time, he is innocent!" she fumed, grabbing her stuff and stomping to the door.
"Sweetheart," he said, his patience running low. "You were always level-headed. When did you become so naïve?"
Her eyes narrowing, she replied, "When did you become so judgmental?"
"Stay away from him, Peyton," he warned. "I'm not gonna tell you again."
"Good, cuz you're starting to sound like a broken record."
"Like the ones in your room?" he questioned. "Care to explain those?"
"Why? So you can find a way to blame Nathan for it?"
"Honey, you used to be able to talk to me about anything."
"And you used to respect my opinions. Guess those days are gone," she shot back before stepping outside and slamming the door behind her.
…..
Meanwhile, Nathan sat on the hood of his car in the school parking lot when Brooke pulled up beside him. "Hey," he said when she stepped out and took the few steps toward him. "You're here early."
"Cheer practice," she replied.
He arched a questioning brow as he glanced at the near empty parking lot. "Forget to tell the others?" he joked.
She crossed her arms over her chest. "Ok, you got me. It's not cheer practice. Turner's making me come in early for my 'janitor work,' since I've been MIA the last few days."
Nathan turned his head toward her and shrugged. "Could have just said that instead of lying to me," he said.
"I didn't want to make you feel guilty," she admitted.
"Why would I? You hit Katie, not me."
"True."
"Still can't believe all the punishment you got was clean-up duty. How fair is that compared to what I got?"
"You mean my one punch vs. your total beat down of Lucas?" she scoffed. "How is that even comparable?"
He grinned boyishly, knowing the two really didn't compare. "Well, for the record," he said. "It was worth every shot."
"Cheap as they may have been," she returned. "Can't believe you're actually proud of that. Oh wait, yes I can."
"Hey," he said offensively. "It's not as bad as what him and Haley did to me. And besides, you can't tell me hitting Katie didn't satisfy the inner brute in you."
She chuckled. "I don't know about that," she said. "But it did feel pretty good."
"Yeah, see. And since it felt so good the first time, you maybe wanna do it again?"
"Huh," she scoffed. "While I might do almost anything for you, superstar, assaulting a girl already in a coma is not one of them."
"Ahh, but she's awake now so that reasoning's kinda shot."
"Is she? How do you know?"
"Cuz she's been jamming my phone with texts and voicemails," he revealed, lifting his phone up for Brooke to see the number of times she'd tried to contact him.
"Wow," the brunette replied. "Thirty-four messages since yesterday?" she said in amazement, referring to the texts alone. "What does she want?"
"Who knows?" he said with a shrug. "I haven't read them."
"Good. You probably shouldn't. And don't listen to the voicemails either."
"Wasn't planning on it. The only thing is…"
"What?" she questioned when he faltered mid-sentence.
He glanced at her, his expression worrisome. "What if she tries to pin her beating on me? I don't want to go back to jail."
"You're not going to. Don't even worry about it."
"How can I not?" he asked, considering what she'd already done.
"It's like P. Sawyer said before," Brooke began. "If the cops suspected you, they would have questioned you when they had you."
"Yeah but, she was unconscious then. If she tells them it was me…"
"They'll know she's lying because you were locked up at the time of her beating," she replied with assurance.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said.
"Of course I am. It'll be okay, Nate."
"I'm gonna hold you to that."
She nodded confidently at his remark. "Now, tell me, why are you here so early?" He never showed up for school early unless he had basketball practice, and since he was still in the process of working toward that, she knew that wasn't it.
"My mom," he answered. "She kept trying to talk to me…"
"Not ready?"
He sighed and stretched his legs out in front of him. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I mean the last time we talked…"
"Fought," Brooke corrected.
He nodded in agreement and continued. "She tried to kill herself."
"That wasn't your fault."
"Kinda was," he disagreed. "I said a lot of crap to her that day."
"Nothing she didn't deserve."
"You sound like Peyton."
"Our girl's right. You should listen to her."
"I am," Nathan replied. "She said I'm the only one who'll know when I'm ready to talk to my mom and until then, that I shouldn't try cuz I'll just end up blowing up."
Brooke nodded. "She knows you well."
"Sometimes I think better than I know myself," he responded.
"You think you'll ever be ready to make amends with your mom?"
His shoulders lifted in uncertainty. "Depends. I don't know. I don't know what I think anymore as far as my mom goes."
"What do you feel?"
"Kinda pissed still," he answered.
"Yeah."
"And on one hand, I feel like she gave up on rehab too soon. The program wasn't over so she should still be there."
"And on the other hand?"
"I was glad to see her in court during the trial. I probably shouldn't have been glad for that…"
"Why shouldn't you be? She's made mistakes but she's still your mom."
"I know, but that program might have been her one chance to get better and here I'm happy that she dropped it for me. How selfish is that?"
"It's not selfish; it's normal."
He chuckled at her response. "Peyton said that too."
"What, d'you think good looks was the only thing Blondie and I had in common?" Brooke teased.
They both laughed but the smile quickly faded from her face when she spotted Chase coming up the parking lot. And when he passed by with nothing but a simple nod, she looked about ready to cry.
"What was that about?" Nathan asked, noticing the exchange and Brooke's change in demeanor.
She shook her head. "Don't worry about, Nate. You have enough on your plate."
"Yeah well, according to Peyton, I need to gain back the weight I lost in prison, so pile it on."
"It's nothing. Really."
"Why do you do that?" he asked.
"Do what?"
"Play things down like everything's fine when I can clearly see they're not," he shot back. "What's going on, Brooke?"
She sighed deeply before replying. "He found out about our bet," she told him. "Our clean teen bet," she stressed when a puzzled expression crossed his features.
"Yeah?" he asked lightly.
"Yeah."
"And?" he pressed.
"And, what do you think, hotshot? He was upset."
Despite her obvious turmoil, Nathan couldn't help his reaction. He laughed. It was too amusing not to.
"It's not funny!" Brooke fumed. "This is your fault."
"What? How is it my fault? You're the one who suggested the bet in the first place."
"Yeah well, it was your drunk ass that told him about it."
"So that's why you were mad at me yesterday," he realized aloud. "My bad."
"My bad!" she re-iterated hotly. "That's all you have to say?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"Gee, I don't know, how 'bout you're sorry!"
"Ok, I'm sorry."
"Good, now try it without the stupid, goofy grin on your face."
"I can't help it, it's funny."
"It's not," she countered. "We got in a fight over it, he walked out, and I think we might have broke up."
"Might have?"
"Well, I'm not sure."
"All this over a stupid bet?"
"Yes, hotshot," she returned snidely. "All this over that stupid bet."
He attempted to stifle a laugh but failed miserably. "And I thought Peyton was sensitive," he said in amusement.
"You done laughing at me yet?"
"Come on, Brooke. I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at him."
"Even worse."
"You know, most guys would see this bet as an ego boost."
"Chase is not most guys."
"Apparently."
"He actually has morals and standards and sees this bet as a direct betrayal to those beliefs."
"Seriously?"
"Yes, seriously," she answered. "You know, just because you don't understand or agree with someone else's views, doesn't mean you can't respect them," she added sullenly.
"Ok, you're right. I'm sorry," he replied.
He sounded sincere but she had to look at him to be sure. "It's ok," she answered when she saw that he was.
"Yeah? We're good then?"
"I guess."
"You really like this guy, huh?"
"More than I've ever liked anyone," she confessed. "And I thought you liked him too."
"I do, Brooke."
"Then why you making fun of him?"
"I'm an idiot?"
"You really are," she replied, though she chuckled as she said it.
"I just don't get it. It seems like such a stupid thing to let come between you."
"Not to him."
"Kay, tell you what? Why don't I talk to him?" he offered.
"Uh, no, I don't think so."
"Why not? You do it for me with Peyton all the time."
"Yeah, but we're best friends and I don't make fun of her innermost feelings."
"I won't either."
"Nate, you just were."
"Well I won't do it to his face, how 'bout that?"
She giggled at his comment, knowing it was the response he'd wanted, but as always, she just couldn't stay mad at Nathan. "It's a start, I suppose," she said with humor. "But wait, no. I don't want you to talk to him."
"Brooke, I screwed this up; now let me fix it."
"No, I screwed it up and it can't be fixed. I never should have made that bet."
He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the buzz of his phone. "Fuck," he muttered as he glanced at the display.
"Katie?" Brooke guessed.
"Yeah."
"Can't you block her?"
"I tried, but my phone doesn't have that option, or if it does, I can't find it."
"That sucks."
"Yeah. I should just get rid of it and buy a new one," he came out with. "Then she couldn't keep calling me."
"Not a bad idea."
And as with any new idea he got, he was ready to implement it immediately. "Hey, you, in the green shirt," he called out to a nerdy looking freshman passing by. The kid's clothes were seriously out of style and ripped—probably hand downs. Exactly the kind of kid Nathan would generally take great pleasure tormenting.
Which is probably why he looked so fearful when Nathan called him. "Me?" he asked, swallowing hard.
"Yeah," Nathan said. "Come here a minute."
The boy hesitated but walked over slowly when Nathan repeated the "request".
"You want a phone?" Nathan asked when he was just a few feet away.
"A phone?"
"Yeah, here," he said, extending the device for the other to take. "It's all yours."
"Uh, Nate," Brooke came out with. "You sure you don't wanna wait until you have another one before you get rid of that one?"
"And let Katie drive me crazy all day?" he scoffed. "What's the point? Go ahead, take it," he insisted when the other boy stared at him skeptically. "Don't worry, it's not hot or anything," he joked, practically shoving it in the other's hand.
Whether or not it was stolen was the least of the boy's worries. "Umm, ok, thanks," he said unsurely.
"Oh wait, hold on, give it back a sec," Nathan said, reaching out.
'Here we go', the other boy thought, assuming Nathan was just putting him on.
But Nathan grinned at him as he went through the phone. "My girl'll kill me if I don't delete her pics first," he explained. "They're kinda revealing, if you know what I mean."
"Oh," the boy responded nervously.
"It's all good though," Nathan revealed. "I already loaded them onto my laptop," he said before refocusing his attention to the phone. "All set," he said seconds later. "Here you go. Happy Thursday."
The kid took it with another flustered thank you before walking away, half expecting the popular jock to come after him and disclose that it was just a prank and then further amuse himself with an ass kicking.
He was more than a little surprised, not to mention relieved, when neither happened.
Brooke couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips as she watched the boy go. "God, you are so intimidating," she told Nathan. "I think the poor kid almost peed his pants."
"How was that intimidating?" Nathan asked her. "I was being nice."
"Oh ok," she laughed. "But your reputation precedes you, mister. Nobody expects you to be nice."
The comment reminded him of those days in court and how many people—people he didn't even know—had been willing to step up and testify about how much of an ass he was. And how he hadn't liked it. "Whatever," he mumbled. "Guess they'll just have to get used to it."
He was about to say more when something else grabbed his attention and he stared off past Brooke.
She turned to see where his new focus lay, only to discover it wasn't new at all.
His gorgeous, curly-haired fiancé, wearing a skirt Brooke recognized as one the blonde had purchased a while back and still not worn.
"My, my," Brooke said when Peyton came within hearing distance. "Aren't we looking deliciously slutty this morning? It's about time you show it off. You only bought it months ago. And I hate you, by the way."
"Hate me? Why?"
"Because only someone with legs like yours could pull off that look."
Peyton rolled her eyes at her best friend. "B. Davis, you look hot in anything your wear and you know it."
"I know," Brooke agreed haughtily. "But it's always nice to hear."
Peyton chuckled and turned her gaze to her boyfriend, who was staring at her with undisguised male appreciation. "You like?" she asked, her eyes sparkling.
"I definitely like," he answered, his voice husky as he blatantly looked her up and down.
Peyton shivered unconsciously. She loved when he looked at her like that.
"Pretty sure that was a rhetorical question, Nate," Brooke piped up. "Cuz I think the drool running down your chin is pretty self-explanatory."
He flashed his infamous, cocky smirk and placed his hands on his girlfriend's exposed waist, pulling her into him gruffly and coming in for a heated kiss.
They were several seconds into it when Brooke finally stood between them. "Ok, as much as I love you guys, even I can only take so much PDA."
Peyton pulled back and gazed at her friend with concern. "Still no news from Chase?" she asked, indicating Brooke had already told her the whole story.
Brooke sighed impatiently. "Why does this have to be about Chase?" she asked with annoyance. "Why can't it be that I'm just tired of playing third wheel with you two…"
"Brooke, you know you're not…"
"Or that," Brooke continued. "I'm sick of how…inconsiderate the both of you are, always having these steamy make-out sessions right in front of me and not even stopping to think how awkward that can be sometimes. I try to look away, you know, so I'm not like…staring, but there are only so many places one can look and…"
"So he hasn't called, huh?" Peyton interrupted. Her best friend wasn't prone to mood swings so that had to be it.
"No," Brooke answered, nearly stomping her foot in vexation and confirming Peyton's suspicions. "And I don't think he's going to. I really screwed up this time."
"Yes you did," Peyton agreed. "Which is why you should take my advice and call him."
"I can't."
"Yes you can. Brooke, you need to talk to him and tell him how you feel."
Brooke shook her head. "No. He hates me."
"He does not."
"He does. You should have seen the way he acted this morning. Ask Nate. He could barely even look at me."
"Brooke, you're making a mountain out of a molehill. I'm sure it's not as bad as all that, and if you'd talk to him and explain…"
"Explain what? I made the bet, I can't deny it."
"Then don't. But let him know you're done playing games. Guaranteed that's all he's worried about."
"Yeah maybe. I don't know. I'll think about it."
"In the meantime," Nathan said, pulling Peyton closer into him. "You know we don't mind if you watch."
The joke earned him a backhand in the stomach from Peyton but it did serve to make Brooke laugh.
"Ok," Brooke said after taking a deep breath. "Let's talk about something else before I start crying and ruin my makeup."
Peyton's brows lifted. "Something else like why Katie would have called my house last night?"
"What?" both Nathan and Brooke exclaimed simultaneously.
"Yeah, my dad told me this morning. Apparently she has something important to tell me. She asked my dad to have me call her back. Cuz I'm gonna do that, right?" she said, her tone dripping sarcasm.
"Damn it," Nathan muttered as he suddenly began to pace the pavement. "What the fuck does she want? Why can't she just leave me alone? This is supposed to be over, but she's gonna say I'm the one who beat her, I know it. And then I'm gonna end up back in jail for another crime I didn't commit."
"Hey, hey," Peyton said soothingly, taking hold of his arms to stop his pacing. "Calm down. That is not going to happen."
"How do you know?"
"Baby, you're innocent…"
He scoffed at the words and cut off the rest of her reply. "Since when does that matter? It didn't stop me from getting arrested last time. Or the jury from voting guilty. I was innocent then too, but it didn't make any difference. Katie and Haley just made up all this crap and they believed them."
"The judge didn't," Peyton countered. "He saw right through them and set you free. And the police, they know you were with them at the time of the beating," she went on, even though she knew Nathan was aware of all she was telling him. Still, the idea of returning to prison had set him in panic mode so she had to drive the point home. "And you were in solitaire confinement so they know you can't be responsible for her beating or for even setting it up. They can't touch you, Nate. Ok?" she asked. "Do you hear me?" she added when he just stared at her blankly. "They can't touch you."
To her relief, he nodded and slumped against her. He knew everything she said was right, and even if he hadn't known it before, he would know it now, simply because she said so. He pulled her into his arms in a bone-crushing embrace, desperate for things to stay just as they were between them. "I'm sorry," he said.
"Don't be. I know you're scared babe, but you don't have to be, ok?"
"Kay," he replied with a nod.
This time when they kissed, Brooke didn't complain. Rather, she eyed the couple who had finally grown tired of hurting each other and were ready to be the couple Brooke always knew they were meant to be. And now that that time had come, they didn't deserve anything or anyone trying to pull them apart. Damn it, they deserved to be happy, and Brooke vowed she would get to the bottom of this Katie business. She may have felt a little sympathy for the girl when she'd seen her roughed up condition on TV, but when it came to messing with her beloved couple, the gloves were off. No more sympathy from this fierce brunette. If that slut wanted to get to Nathan and Peyton, she'd have to go through Brooke first.
And she would tell her so during lunch period. The hospital was only a five-minute drive from the school so she could head there, heed her warning, and be back with plenty of time to eat.
"Uh, guys," she finally interrupted.
The two pulled apart and Peyton's features instantly took on an apologetic look. "Oh God, we did it again," she said regretfully. "You're right, Brooke. We so are inconsiderate. We are so sorry, aren't we, Nate?"
"Sure," he replied with a careless shrug, clearly not sorry at all.
"Relax, Blondie," Brooke said. "I was just gonna say Turner's giving me the evil eye so I should get to garbage duty."
"Oh, Brooke," Peyton began. "Why didn't you say you were doing that this morning? I'm supposed to be helping you…"
"Nah, looks like you've got your hands full," Brooke joked. "I got it this time."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Besides, what good are you to me in that skirt? It's not like you can even bend over. At least not until you got your boytoy here in a room, preferably alone," she jested, winking at her friend.
The couple chuckled at the joke before Peyton's face turned serious. "Thanks, Brooke. And tomorrow I'm in a jogging suit and I'm all yours. Promise."
"Holding you to that," Brooke replied before pulling out a pair of latex gloves and slipping them on, Nathan laughing out loud when they reached all the way up to her elbows. "What?" Brooke asked innocently. "I'm not getting full of …garbage gunk. Eww. And keep laughing at me if you want to be put to work too."
"I'm not laughing at you, Brooke, I'm laughing with you."
"Uh huh. That only works if I'm actually laughing, which I'm so not because picking up after a bunch of dirty, disgusting slobs is not my idea of a good time."
"You're not supposed to be having a good time, Brooke," Nathan teased. "If you were having fun, it wouldn't be called a punishment."
"Shut up, Mr. 'I get to work with a bunch of cute, adorable kids for my punishment'," Brooke bit back. "Life is so not fair," she added before she sauntered off, leaving Nathan and Peyton chuckling at her dramatics.
"What a girl," Nathan commented.
"Yup, that's our Brooke. Gotta love her."
"Gotta."
"You should talk to Chase for her," Peyton suggested.
"I offered. She doesn't want me to. Besides, you just told her she should."
"Yeah, but you know Brooke. We both know she's not going to. She thinks he's too good for her."
"Which is crap."
"And you can tell him so when you talk to him."
"Yeah, except is he actually thinking that or is it just her being insecure?"
"One way to find out."
"But she doesn't want me talking to him," he repeated. "She's scared I'll offend him or something."
"So don't," she advised. "Just talk to him, you know, man to man."
"What am I supposed to say?"
"You're sorry about the bet for starters," she suggested.
"The bet was a joke," he argued. "Brooke didn't even cash in."
"Does Chase know that? Cuz if not, it might be something he'd like to hear."
"What if I make everything worse and she gets pissed at me?"
"What if?" she returned. "You'll have tried at least. And you know Brooke loves you. She'll always forgive you."
He shook his head. "Now see, that's the philosophy I always used for you whenever I was knowingly screwing up," he pointed out. "And then one day it backfired because you didn't forgive me. At least not right away."
"Ok, then don't talk to him, Nate. I thought you might want to clean up the mess you made but it's your call either way."
"What's with the guilt trip?"
"You'll feel more guilty if you don't at least try to smooth things over. And you never know, instead of making things worse like you think, you could actually make them better."
He was silent for a few seconds before conceding. "Fine. I'll corner him at lunch and we'll have some words."
She chuckled at his wording. No, that didn't sound intimidating at all. "Just try not to threaten him, ok," she jested. "We want him going to Brooke voluntarily, not be bullied into it."
"Like how you just bullied me into talking to him?" he joked.
"Persuaded," she corrected.
"Right," he snickered.
"Lunch though? Cuz I kinda made other plans for that hour," she said, her words taking on a deep, sensual tone.
"What kind of plans?"
"Plans my boytoy is gonna love."
"Oh yeah?" he said, his arms snatching around her.
"Yeah, so if you see him…"
His response to her teasing was to poke her sides, making her squeal loudly. "I'd have to flatten him, sorry. Screw anger management."
Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. "Guess I'd have to find a replacement then. Too bad you're busy cuz you're pretty hot."
"Well, if it's really important, I could always cut my plans short."
"Oh, it's definitely important. But are you sure? I wouldn't wanna put you out?"
"Everyone's got to make sacrifices sometime, right?"
"You're so very kind."
"Thank you. So, your car or mine?"
"Neither," she replied. "I actually had somewhere a little…hotter, in mind."
His tongue ran over his lips as her playful mood affected him from head to toe. "Like?"
"I'll let you know."
He groaned in complaint but his smirk was ever present. "How 'bout a hint?"
"Another one? Kay, here's a second," she began but he cut her off.
"Wait, there was a first?"
"Uh huh."
"Well, what was it? I missed it."
"You'll figure it out. The second is it's somewhere here we haven't done it yet."
His brows creased as his mind went through the list of exclusions. "So neither vehicle, not the locker room, or the girls' change room, bathrooms first and second floors, weight room, under and behind the bleachers…"
"…janitor's closet, supply room, library wall…nope, none of those. And wow, we sound like a couple of nymphs."
He laughed, but his mind was on what place she could possibly be referring to. "Where else is there?"
"Oh, I could think of a few," she answered. "But you'll have to wait and find out."
"And still be able to concentrate in class all morning?" he scoffed.
"Just make sure to sit in front of me," she returned non-chalantly.
"What's that gonna do?"
"Take away the visual," she supplied.
"I like the visual," he returned. "Besides, it's already in my head."
"Which one?"
"Both. You're a real tease, you know that?"
"Oh no, I'm not teasing. I plan to deliver in full, but you just got to be patient for a few hours."
Again he groaned. "Not one of my strong points, as you know."
"Yeah, you should probably work on that."
"I'd rather work on you."
"I'm sure you would."
"What do you say we compromise?"
"What kind of compromise?"
"In return for my patience, we go for a little practice run," he answered, tilting his head toward the back of his car.
She laughed at him. Not exactly the response he was going for. "If you feel like you need one," she returned sarcastically.
"What if I just want one?"
"I'd have to say no."
"Kay, then I need one."
"Still no, sorry."
"Because?"
"First of all because modesty doesn't become you. You're well-rehearsed in the art of sex…"
"Oh it's art now?"
"And you have no problem showing off your talents," she continued as though he hadn't spoken. "Second, you were gonna drop by the center this morning and I want to hear all about it."
"Now?"
"Yeah, now. Did you go?"
"Yeah."
"And?"
"And Mitch said I start my hours again this weekend."
"That's good news."
"Yeah. The sooner I get back to it, the sooner my 200 hours'll be done."
"You realize you don't fool me by pretending you hate it?"
He simply smiled in response.
"D'you thank him for testifying?"
"Of course. What am I, an idiot?"
"The truth?"
"No."
"No, of course you're not an idiot, baby."
"Real funny. But yes, I did thank him, and Mouth, and I facebooked Brent to thank him too."
"Good boy. So now there's just…"
"Shelly."
"Shelly," she repeated.
"Looking forward to that one," he said caustically. "Yeah, 'hey Shel, sorry I was such a dick to ya, but hey, thanks for saving my ass in court, appreciate it,' he said glumly.
"Or you could not talk to her," Peyton suggested. "I mean, I'm sure she knows you're grateful. And besides, there's no telling that it was actually her testimony that saved your ass. It could have been anyone's, like Mouth's or…Mitch's, he had a lot of strong points…or Brent…what?" she asked when Nathan stared at her with brows raised.
"I love you," he replied.
"I love you too."
"You don't have to be jealous of Shelly or anyone else."
"What? I'm not jealous?" she scoffed. "I'm just saying we don't know whose testimony swayed the judge. It wasn't necessarily hers…" She trailed off as he continued to stare at her. "Ok fine, I'm jealous," she confessed. "I admit it. You happy?"
"Am I supposed to be?" he asked. "Because honestly, and I know it's my own doing and all, but I'll be happier when cheating isn't even an issue anymore. When you trust me. I thought we cleared a lot of this up last night, but I guess I was wrong."
"This isn't about cheating, Nathan. I know you're not gonna go sleep with her."
"Then what is it?"
"I know she wasn't just some skank you hooked up with. You cared about her. Don't deny it," she said when he shook his head. "I know you, Nathan. She might have started out as a conquest, but she became more than that. You stuck up for her at the dance. You were upset when she broke things off. You were into her."
"You're right," he admitted. "But you're wrong too," he added. "Even about her being a conquest, you're wrong. I mean, no, you're right, she was, but it's not how you think."
"What do you mean, Nate?"
"I mean…" He took a deep breath, trying to sort through the emotions he'd been feeling at the time. "It had finally sunk in then that you weren't gonna take me back, or so I thought. I didn't know how to handle it so I went crazy with the drinking and partying and random hook ups…"
"I remember."
"I figured a little more of that and I'd get over you and be fine. But I wasn't. I missed you even more and I got bored with the girls being so…easy."
"That's what you get for being the hot jock," she said lightly. "The girls fall at your feet."
"You didn't. And Shelly, she was a clean teen and I liked the idea of a challenge again, like it was with you. It was stupid, but I thought it could be just like when we started. And sometimes it was," he admitted.
"So does that mean I started as a conquest too?"
He shook his head. "No. By the time you went out with me…how many times did I ask you? Like a hundred?"
"Something like that."
"Well all I know is that by the time you did, I already halfway in love."
"Then I'll consider my plan a success," she said lightly.
He laughed at the comment. "But honestly, if you'd slept with me right away, I probably wouldn't have stuck around long."
"I figured as much," she said. "Glad I held off."
"Me too."
"And Shelly? She held off too."
"Which is the only reason we lasted 2 months."
"And the reason you have feelings for her."
"No, Peyt…"
"Nathan, please be honest. I can handle it."
"I'm being honest. She was never more than a replacement for you."
"You're lying! Do you think I don't know you better than that? I'm not saying you're in love with her, but you do have feelings for her."
"What I feel for her is respect. Ok? She didn't change herself or her beliefs just to please me. I knew she'd be more of a challenge than other girls, but I was sure she'd give in soon enough anyway, and I could pat myself on the back and walk out of her life, feeling proud of my victory. But she didn't give in, so yes, I respect her for that."
"Was that so hard to admit?"
"But don't confuse respect with feelings, ok. Because those just aren't there. They never could be because you're the only girl I want to be with. I wish I knew how to convince you, but I…"
"It's ok," she said, throwing herself in his arms. "The engagement ring was pretty convincing. Can we just…forget about my paranoid, jealous girlfriend moment?"
"Yeah. Sure," he answered a little flatly.
"Kay, so umm, Jess is really getting big, huh? What is she, eight months along now?"
"Something like that."
"Her and Cooper must be getting excited."
"Yeah."
"You ok?"
"I'm fine. They, uh, they're going back to Charlotte tonight. They want us to have dinner with them before they go."
"Ok, sounds good. And we should go back up there to see them soon."
"Yeah, we will."
"Nate, I'm sorry, ok?"
He shrugged off her apology. "It's cool."
"I love you."
He smiled at that. "I love you too."
She reached up to kiss him, a gesture he immediately reciprocated. "So about that practice run," she said when they came up for air. "There's ten minutes before first bell," she said as she glanced at the time on her phone. "Think we can make it?"
The cocky smirk was back on his face when he looked down to her skirt and replied. "I can. I've got easy access."
She slapped him playfully before taking his hand and leading him the few steps to the back door of his car. "You're so making it up to me at lunch."
….
It was between first and second period when Peyton stood in front of her open locker, rummaging through her books in search of the one she needed next. She found it and pulled at it, cursing when an array of others wanted to fall at her.
Suddenly there was an arm above her, holding the unnecessary books in place so she could successfully retrieve the right one. "Thanks Damien," she said gratefully. "One more second I'd have been chucking these damn things down the hall."
"No problem," he replied pleasantly. "It's these lockers. They make them way too narrow."
"Yeah, we'll say that," she said with a laugh. "Rather than I'm a disorganized slob."
"Well, you're the prettiest slob I've ever met," he returned.
"Oh," she replied, the creepy feeling she used to feel around him but that had disappeared lately, returning. Maybe it was because Nathan was out now and she knew how jealous he was of the time she'd been spending with Damien during his prison stay. Then again Nathan got jealous of any guy she spent a relative amount of time with. Maybe it had more to do with his phone call the previous night. In any case, for whatever reason, the eerie feeling was back as strong as it ever was. "Thanks," she said awkwardly.
"So uh," he began. "I called your house last night."
"Yeah, my dad told me," she acknowledged as she slammed her locker shut.
So she just hadn't called him back.
"And," Peyton continued. "I meant to talk to you about that, actually, but I'm running late for drama class and it's all the way on the other side of the school so…later?"
"Yeah, absolutely."
"Ok. I gotta go, sorry," she said, already walking away from him.
He stood watching her until she disappeared, not even noticing that Nathan had come up beside him until he turned and bumped right into him. "Nate," he greeted. "What's up?"
"You tell me."
"What do you mean?"
"She looks hot, huh?"
"Who? Peyton? I didn't notice."
Nathan scoffed at that. "No? Well then you're probably the only male in the entire school who hasn't. I'll tell ya, all the looks and drooling are starting to piss me off."
"You should be used to it by now."
"You'd think, huh?" Nathan agreed. "But chances are I never will be," he admitted. "Whatever though," he added with a shrug. "As long as everyone knows she's mine, it's not that big a deal, I guess."
"Yeah," Damien returned flatly, his body stiffening.
"You do know it, right?" Nathan said next. "That she's mine?"
Damien turned to the raven haired boy beside him. "Nate, we're friends. You accusing me of something?"
"Nope," Nathan replied, his tone dry and even. "Just making sure we're clear on where Peyton stands."
"And where's that?" Damien couldn't resist asking.
"With me."
Unconsciously, Damien's fists clenched into tight balls. The arrogance. Just once he'd like to put Nathan in his place. "You sure about that?"
"Positive. And anyone who thinks differently is either blind, stupid, or a complete fool."
"Look, Nate, I don't know what you're getting at here, but…"
"I know you were "helping" her while I was in jail," Nathan said, using air quotes to let Damien know he didn't buy it for a second. "But that's all it was to her; a way to get to me."
"Really?" Damien couldn't stop himself from replying. "See, I might believe that if that were the only time we hung out. Or if she hadn't cried on my shoulder," he said, enjoying the surprise that fell over Nathan's face.
Nathan tried to assess the other guy to determine whether or not he was speaking truthfully. He couldn't tell. Finally he shrugged, fixing his friend with a penetrating glare. "If that's true, it's only because she was upset over the charges and scared of a guilty verdict. But I'm out now, so back off… buddy," he said, emphasizing the last word.
He walked away after issuing that warning and Damien felt his blood turn cold. It didn't help that they had the same class next and by the time lunch neared, he'd already had to endure Nathan bragging to the class about how as soon as he caught up on his grades he was getting his spot on the team back. Nor did it help that their teammates cheered loudly over that piece of news.
It seemed like everything had gone back to the way they'd been before Nathan had been arrested. Apparently being accused of rape didn't affect his hero status at Tree Hill High. Few cared what he'd done; only that he was back. And those few who did care were too scared to say anything.
It was pathetic. And to top it all off, the school was buzzing with the news that Katie had come out of her coma. So Damien cut out of class before lunch to avoid the heavy traffic pile up in the school's parking lot at that hour. He would deal with Nathan and Peyton once and for all later, but first he had to go pay a little visit to Miss Sanders to ensure she would keep her trap shut. The last thing he needed was her spilling her guts and landing him in prison. No way that was happening. At least not before he'd had his chance with Peyton and knocked Nathan to the ground in the process.
…..
Meanwhile Brooke ran lines with the group the drama teacher had assigned her, but her eyes kept drifting from the group in front of her to the clock. Poor Peyton had been put in a group with both Haley and Jake, and the tension was so thick it could almost be cut with a knife. The blonde avoided speaking to Jake and Brooke knew it was because he'd testified against Nathan.
And Jake wasn't stupid; he knew the reason too. He'd expected the cold shoulder from a lot of people, but he stood his ground, still feeling that he'd done what he'd had to do, no matter everyone's feelings on it. He still considered Nathan his friend and wished he'd understand his decision, but Jake knew that was asking too much. Maybe someday Nathan and everyone else would see his side, but he wasn't expecting that to happen anytime soon.
As for Haley, Peyton wouldn't even look at her, and Brooke guessed it was for fear of hitting her if she did. And Haley looked appropriately awkward as well at having to be in the same group with Peyton. Brooke just wasn't sure if she were actually as uncomfortable as she looked, or if she was just acting. After all, the bitch was a hell of an actress.
And thinking of bitches, Brooke mused silently as she glanced at the clock, just ten more minutes and she'd be on her way to chat with the one who lay in a hospital bed. She may not be able to fix her own messed up love life but she could, as she'd always done, fix Peyton and Nathan's.
That girl was messing with the wrong people.