I drove around the empty roads of Tree Hill. It was 2:00 am and I was yet to find my conquest of the night. I had gone to a couple of parties, instantly found them lame and had left. Everything felt the same. I had already screwed every boy that was worth screwing and the thought about that made a lump form in my throat.

Quickly swallowing my feelings down, I decided to go back to The Blue Post. Maybe a redo wouldn't probably be all that bad. Most of the guys that I slept with were so drunk or stoned that they never remembered much anyway. Besides, I had a good track record of leaving early before they woke up, making them wonder whether the night before had really happened or was simply a figment of their fantasies.

I was 16, a sophomore at Tree Hill High, head of the cheerleading squad, queen bee with a reputation of sleeping with everyone. I never denied it. If you love and embrace the bad, can you even call it bad then?

I was a regular at The Blue Post, so they didn't even bother checking my fake ID anymore. I simply smiled at the bartender who placed my regular drink in front of me on the long bar counter. The place was fairly empty with just a couple making out and ready to strip off their clothes right there in the back corner and a couple of men with tattoos playing pool. There was also one more, somebody I did recognise. Lucas Scott. Star player of the Tree Hill Ravens' basketball team. He sat there in the far corner of the bar, looking at me.

It was then that I felt my night falling in the dumps. Yes, I had a reputation of sleeping with everyone and still I had a rule, I would not do Lucas Scott. He was one person in THH who probably had a longer list than me, at least if the rumours were true. And I refused to be one of his conquests. I thought he felt the same because he had never tried to flirt with me either. We ran in the same circles, saw each other at every game, met each other at every after party, but we always kept things cordial.

I felt a weird surge, as his eyes continued boring into me. Not knowing how to react to those piercing baby blues which refused to cut contact, I picked up my glass and walked up to him.

"Love stalking much, Scott?" I tried to say in a manner that made me sound unfazed, but it came out making me sound flirtatious. Ugh, what was wrong with me?

"Like it much, Davis?" he responded, still not breaking eye contact.

The shocked reaction on my face came all too quickly for me to be able to control it. I tried to come up with a good comeback but it only made the flustered expression on my face even deeper.

"You wish, Scott!" I finally responded as he chuckled, putting down the drink he was sipping. "What are you doing here anyway, I have never seen you, or frankly anyone from school here before."

The Blue Post was not a typical nightclub for dancing, and so it was less frequented by High Schoolers. It was a place that I liked to come to when I was bored of all the little fish in the sea and wanted to hook up with older men. I was quite the pool shark and it gave me a high defeating men at pool, making bets and watching their expressions as they saw themselves losing.

"Oh so this is where Brooke Davis gets her conquests from?" he said looking at the place. "Care for a game of darts?"

And there I was with my mouth agape again. "We are not friends, Lucas." I reminded him.

"So, you come here to meet up with friends, is it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He knew he had won.

Dowing my drink in one big gulp, I rolled my eyes as the two of us walked to the corner where the dartboard was. The air around me felt tense and I had no idea how I was to react to the situation I was in.

"So, is the night not going as you planned?" he asked, throwing the dart perfectly at the bullseye mark.

"Not since I met you," I chortled. I was already on drink number 2. I told myself to stop after this one since it seemed like my night had been a bust and I would have to drive myself back.

Flinging my dart, I saw it land close to his, but missing by a centimetre. He looked clearly impressed. Why did men think women were just naturally bad at games? I despised stereotypes.

"Not bad, Davis," he said to me once we were done with the darts. He won, but it was a close margin.

"Yeah, whatever," I shrugged. "Okay, I'm bored. I think I am going to leave."

I felt the colour of his eyes change. It felt really strange to witness that though. We clearly meant nothing to each other, so why did it even matter?

"Wait, how are you going to go, Brooke?" he asked me. His concern for me felt so real, it sent a shiver all the way down my spine.

"I have my car," I replied after composing myself.

"Brooke, you have been drinking. Are you sure you are okay to drive, I only had one beer, I can take you home," he responded, his face tense with worry.

"Jesus, I'll be fine, Dad!" I joked.

But, it left a strange feeling in both of us. His entire body stiffened and so did mine. For a moment, both of us just stood there like statues.

"Okay, then," I said after taking a deep breath and grabbing my purse before walking out.

I sat in my car for a couple of moments just replaying everything in my head. What was that even? Why did it feel so strange? What was I doing hanging out with Lucas Scott? I simply chalked it up to not my night as I pulled my car out of the parking lot.

I did not want to go home. So, I drove to the next place that felt like home.

Cutting the engine, in the driveway, I briskly walked toward the beautiful exposed brick house. Pulling out the key to the back door from underneath the flower pot, I walked into her bedroom to find her in deep slumber.

I was feeling exhausted by now, maybe I would finally get some sleep today. Getting out of my skin tight jeans and top, I made my way to the Queen sized bed in just my bra and panties, making sure not to disturb the sleeping blonde. She moved a little as the lifting of the duvet sent a cold draft of air her way, but she continued to breathe heavily indicating she was yet passed out. Staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to finally take over my body, my head kept rewinding and replaying my night with Lucas until I could no longer tell whether I was thinking it or dreaming it.