"911, what is the nature of your emergency?" the operator asked on the phone.
"My daughter, she was on the phone with her boyfriend and she heard gunshots!" Lucas said urgently on the phone. He didn't care that Sam wasn't technically his daughter or that Quentin wasn't technically his boyfriend.
"Oh! Sir, does your daughter know where her boyfriend is?" the voice on the call asked.
"Uhh, no. He was filling gas in his tank. She said this happened at a gas station. He was close to his home. I am his Coach. I can look into the records and give you his house address and details but it will take me a few minutes," Lucas' voice was shaky as the words careened out of his mouth.
"Do that, meanwhile give us his name," the operator coached him.
"His name is Quentin Fields. He is a student at Tree Hill High. He is sixteen years old," Lucas said as he put the call on speaker and went to his email to find roster details. When he found the details, he shared them and the operator assured him that she had dispatched units to all the gas stations around the address.
"Should I call his family?" Lucas asked Brooke with a horror-stricken look on his face.
Brooke's eyes were too swollen for them to give a huge reaction. She looked at Lucas intently, unable to carry everything that had ensued. She looked at him with a look of utter infirmity. Lucas watched the powerful woman in front of him break. Then, she took a steadying breath and composed herself. Lucas could see Brooke putting on her metaphorical armour. It was a sight, watching her put together the pieces that had withered and shattered. Lucas could not imagine what she was going through. She was hurt, only God knew the extent of the trauma she had undergone and she could not catch a breath.
"I can do it," she replied quietly.
Lucas' eyes widened. He fumbled, unsure what to say to Brooke.
"Let's get home to Sam and Jamie," she said, dismissing anything Lucas had to say. Lucas handed Brooke his phone with Quentin's mother's number listed. She copied the number and made the call as Lucas went to his bedroom to pick up the bag with Brooke's things.
The phone rang for a few moments while Brooke waited impatiently. She bit her lip and as soon as her teeth touched them, she remembered the kiss again. Giving her head a gentle shake, she tried to rid all thoughts and focus on the ring of the phone pressed to her ear. It was really late, she knew that.
"Hello?" a confused voice finally spoke on the line.
"Hi, is this Denise Fields? I am sorry to call this late. My name is Brooke. My daughter goes to school with your son, Quentin. She was on a call with him some time ago. She said that Quentin snuck out of the house to go to Duke for a party and was on his way home. She was on call with him. She said that he was filling his car with gas and she heard a gunshot. She got scared and cut the call, and has been too afraid to call that, but she is worried. We called 911 immediately and they dispatched units. My - uh, right, my fiancé is Quentin's Coach at Tree Hill High, so we got your number from his roster details." Brooke spoke. Sam had lied to them. She did not tell them that Quentin had come home and honestly, it didn't matter even if he knew. Quentin's safety was more important. Nevertheless, she had told them the partial truth, omitting some details.
"What!" Denise wailed on the call.
"I am so sorry, Ma'am. I don't have more details. Is there anything that we can do for you?" Brooke offered. Her heart wanted to leap to Sam, but she also wanted to help the helpless lady, despite her own attack.
"I am going to go!" she replied hastily.
"Yes, please keep us informed about the situation. Our daughter, Sam, is worried too. And, I am praying that your son is safe," she said before ending the call. Brooke felt all the wind get knocked out of her. She stood there inanimate for a few moments, trying to catch her breath. Lucas gently nudged Brooke to the car. She walked slowly, the pain she was in stuck to her like a ghostly shadow.
Once they were in the car, Lucas clicked her seatbelt for her and saw Brooke hiss as the strap stuck to her chest. He could only imagine the pain and horror that each bruise held like a container. He absent-mindedly put a reassuring hand on her thigh as he cruised through the roads at top speed, wanting nothing more than to get home to his scared daughter. Brooke, who still had Lucas' phone, immediately called Sam back.
"Is he alright?" she asked, answering at the first ring.
"Honey, we've called 911 and we have called his family. Now, we just have to wait," she answered. Sam sighed heavily, hating the answer she received.
"Where are you?" she asked meekly, her voice barely audible as she choked back tears to say that.
"We are on our way home, honey. Don't worry. We will get there in ten minutes and we are going to stay on call with you the whole way," Brooke replied reassuringly. That cracked Sam's tough exterior and she began to sob vehemently.
"Sammy, what's Jamie up to?" Lucas asked, purely to distract the distraught teen.
"H-he is asleep," she choked.
"Can you go check once, please?" he asked.
Sam didn't think much about it and trudged her way up the stairs. She gently pushed the door to his room and yes, Jamie was sleeping, unaware about the frights of the world around him.
"He is still sleeping," she assured.
"Okay, can you do me a favour? Can you go get a glass of water from the kitchen and drink it?" he asked, wanting to keep her busy.
"I'm fine," she replied petulantly.
"Yeah, we didn't say you weren't. Now get going, come on," he wheedled.
Sam huffed but Lucas could hear shuffling in the background. He heard Sam fill a glass of water and drink it. "There, ya happy?" she asked.
"Yes, because we are just entering the driveway, he said, parking his car at the entrance instead of taking it to the garage.
He helped Brooke out and both parents got inside to see Sam waiting for them at the door. Without any hesitation, Sam ran and flung herself in Lucas' arms. "I'm scared. Should we call him? Can we call his mother again?"
"The situation will be stressful, we cannot yet. We already asked his mother to call us with an update," Brooke replied as Sam grew calmer in Lucas' arms. She had changed so much in being with Lucas. She would normally refrain from male touch or any touch and now she was a child with them.
Lucas and Brooke eased Sam to the couch. She sat between them, and without even realising it, she was sprawled between them. Brooke had a throw pillow in her lap and Sam had laid her head on it. Yes, it ached more than Brooke would ever admit, but she would never say that to her. Sam's legs were resting on Lucas' lap. Brooke caressed Sam's tresses softly and slowly as she did when Sam struggled to sleep. She had a patient hand and a gentle soothing hum.
"Did you manage to get it out of her?" Sam asked Lucas. Her eyes were staring at the turned-off TV which was in front of her.
"Hmm?" Brooke asked, assuming Sam was talking to her.
"I was asking Lucas," she said, her voice steadier.
"What, Champ?" Lucas asked, not having caught her question.
"Did you get the truth from her?" she asked, sitting up partially to look at him.
Lucas gave her a defeated smile. Brooke was not dumb, she knew what the two of them were conspiring about. The memory of her kiss with Lucas came flying back to her mind as well as the cold fear and sadness that she had lost Karen's ring. She gazed at her empty ring finger, her lips curling into a frown.
"Sam, why did you change your outfit?" Brooke asked instead, directing the focus off of her.
"Huh?" Sam asked, squinting her eyes.
"You changed your clothes since we left and instead of pyjamas, you're wearing a cute outfit and make up," Brooke stated matter-of-factly.
"Samantha, was Quentin on his way to pick you up to take you to that party!?" Brooke asked, raising her voice.
"What! No! How would that even be possible? I was babysitting Jamie, remember?" Sam spat back. "Listen, that junkyard party was the one and only time that I took him! I would never do that again."
"Oh, right. Yes, of course," she replied. "Then why the get up?"
"I wanted to look cute on the call?" Sam made up.
"Sam! Were you on a video call? Did you see the shooter? Did he see you!" Brooke screeched.
"No, it was an audio call!" Sam hit the breaks. She sighed and her shoulders sagged. "Fine, Quentin was here."
"What!" Brooke and Lucas yelled in synchrony.
"Please don't kill me or ground me further," she begged for mercy.
"Samantha," Brooke growled.
"Oh, get your mind out of the gutter! Nothing happened, Jamie and Quentin hung out together," she said, needing them to know that she hadn't broken a major rule.
Brooke went ahead to press on further, when Lucas' phone rang. All three eyes peered at the device. Lucas quickly picked it up and answered.
"Hello?" he asked and then waited as Denise spoke. "Oh, my god." Lucas looked like he was about to throw up.
"Lucas, what is it?" Brooke asked, although she knew, she could see the dread in his face.
"He's dead." he whispered.
"No! No, no, no, no, no!" Sam cried.
"Shh! Shh! It's okay. Shhh!" Brooke said, wrapping the fragile girl in her arms. Lucas watched forlornly. His hero complex took a ginormous hit, unable to save either of the important girls in his life. How was it that he was always able to save Peyton, but never Brooke? Yes, he had got her to Tree Hill and given her a home, saving her from a life of stripping, but she was still alone, she was still struggling and bad things happened anyway. Sam had seen enough pain to last a lifetime. She deserved only uphill from where she was. Yet, that wasn't the case.
Brooke's eyes watered from pain as Sam clutched to her, grief-stricken anguish emitting through her cries. Eventually, Sam wore herself out and fell into an exhausted slumber in Brooke's arms. Lucas silently picked her up and began to walk upstairs. However, instead of taking her to her own bedroom, he took her to Brooke's. Brooke smiled at that. She did not want to be away from her daughter for even a moment.
Lucas gently placed her on the bed and tucked her in, then he entered Brooke's bathroom and pulled out a painkiller and an ointment. He wasn't sure if it was what was needed exactly to tend to her wounds, but that was all they had in the house.
Brooke extended her arm to take it from him. He handed her the pill but not the ointment. Brooke swallowed the pill all too quickly. Then she silently asked for the ointment.
"Sit down, let me help," he offered. Brooke's eyes widened.
"No, it's fine. I'll do it," she said.
"Brooke, you are in deep pain. Just keep quiet and let me take care of you," he whispered in her ears. If the situation wasn't as grim as it was, his whisper was almost seductive.
"Luke, it's fine, thanks. I got it," she tried one last time. She was too exhausted to fight anymore.
"Sit on the bed," he instructed. Sometimes dealing with Brooke reminded him of dealing with a stubborn petulant child.
Brooke gave in and sat. She wasn't wearing a bra because of the pain she was in. She felt shy, but remembered Lucas seeing her at the strip club and pulled her top off, holding it close to her breasts to hide them. Lucas felt the wind get knocked out of him as he saw the full extent of the injuries on her back. It was deep purple from hitting the table and certain spots were bleeding, where the glass had wedged and torn skin. Brooke held her breath as Lucas put the ointment on her back. He heard her try to stifle her moans and groans and she winced and writhed in pain. Brooke tried to keep still but the pain was unbearable.
"Lucas, please I can't," she said finally, when the burning got too much. She whimpered, exhausted as she felt like her body was on fire.
"I can still take you to the ER," he said quickly, ready for action.
"No, we can't wake Sam and we can't leave her alone," Brooke said, looking towards Sam sympathetically.
"Listen, you could have internal bleeding," Lucas said, all too seriously.
"Lucas, not tonight. I am fine," she said. She sighed and pulled her t-shirt back on. Then she pulled her loose pants off and went back to lie on the side the way she had been when Lucas and Sam found her. Lucas knew that her front had more injuries than her back.
"B, this should go on your front too," he said.
"You can apply it yourself, I'll go out," he replied if modesty was the issue.
"I'm fine," she answered robotically. "You should go get some sleep too," she told him. Brooke didn't wait to see whether or not Lucas left because she had no energy left. Her eyes shut automatically and she was out in seconds.
Lucas did not leave. He sat on a chair and it was great that he didn't go because all through the night Brooke and Sam shrieked and cried as nightmares haunted them.
It was Brooke who cried first, fighting an assailant that did not exist. "Get off! Please! Stop! No!" she whispered as tears streaked down her face. Lucas woke her up, afraid to hold her, knowing the deep pain she was in. Brooke was heaving as if she had just run a marathon. She struggled to get her breathing back to normal.
While she was still struggling, Sam woke up, clutching her ears as if she had heard the gun go off again. Her heart raced as she looked at her parents, knowing that they could do nothing to get Quentin back. That seemed to have snapped Brooke out of her trance, who was immediately by her side, chanting reassuring words to calm her, knowing that there was nothing more that she or he could do.
It was a humongous struggle for her as her mind had transported her back to the floor of her store, pinned underneath her attacker. Her entire body felt heavy as if it had been trapped under a boulder. She was still trying her best to be there for Sam who was fighting the reality that the guy she had just kissed had been taken away from her. She was in a dark spiral. She loved her biological mom and dad and they had left her. She loved Quentin and he had been snatched from her. Brooke had been attacked and left for dead at her store. If it weren't for Brooke, Jamie and Lucas wouldn't be in her life. Would they be next?
Lucas was pushed way out of his comfort zone as both the exhausted girls spent the remainder of the night trapped in the loud echoes of their nightmares. It didn't take long for the dark night to transform into bright streaks of sunlight that cast a golden glow in Brooke's room.
It was Jamie who broke the three of them out of their dark cloud. He came scurrying into the room and halted dead in his tracks. Brooke immediately pulled the covers over her, covering herself like a shroud. It was strange that the fearless girl who could work in a seedy strip club was cowering in front of her three-year-old toddler.
Lucas was exhausted but he knew that Brooke and Sam were worse. He quickly scooped him in his arms. "Hey buddy, did you sleep well?" he asked, walking out of the room with him.
"Yeah," he replied, full of energy for the new day.
"Will you help me make breakfast?" he asked. He knew that Sam would not be attending school that day and wondered whether it was a good idea to keep Jamie at home as well. Lucas saw that it was late. Even if he tried, Jamie would not be reaching school on time, so it was futile.
Lucas helped Jamie sit on the kitchen island and turned on the coffee machine. Next, he pulled out some cereal and milk and got a bowl out. Jamie poured the cereal into the bowl, getting more contents to spill on the island. He seemed to enjoy the mess as he began to play with the spilt cereal. Lucas did not mind it. Seeing Jamie behave so normally was a respite he didn't know he desperately needed.
Lucas heard his phone ring in his pockets. He pulled at it hastily, expecting it to be news regarding Quentin. Instead he saw that it was Lorelai calling him.
"Hello, Mr. Scott," she greeted. "Is this a good time to talk?"
"Yes, how are you?" he said courteously.
"I'm fine. How is Sam?" she asked.
Lucas' eyes trailed up the stairs to where his foster daughter was curled into a ball, mourning the death of a friend.
"She's fine," he lied.
"And Ms. Davis? I tried to call her earlier but I could not get through her phone," she asked curiously.
"Yeah, Brooke lost her phone yesterday. We are yet to go get her a new one," he covered for her. Lucas couldn't help it that his mind trailed to the stolen ring. His chest ached thinking that though he would never let Brooke know that. He wondered how his mother would feel about it. He hoped she would be understanding. Karen was, however, a far later problem.
"Oh, okay. I wanted to ask if we could schedule our next visit 4 days hence?" she asked.
"Oh! Uhh," Lucas stuttered, not knowing how to answer. No way was Sam going to be okay and Brooke's face looked like a monster truck had rolled over it.
"Why? Is there a problem?" Lorelai asked in a suspicious tone.
"No, no problem. It should be fine," he replied.
"Great. I will be there at 4 pm," she said and cut the call.
Immediately, Lucas' phone rang again. This time it was Chet, his editor.
"Hey man! How are you?" he greeted Lucas enthusiastically.
"Hey Chet, good morning," Lucas replied, pouring freshly brewed coffee into a mug for him.
"How soon can you get down to New York? We have finished outlining the major areas of your book that need reworking and we need you to come down to discuss them," he said.
"Oh," Lucas said another time.
"Why? Is there a problem?" asked Chet. Lucas couldn't help but roll his eyes as he had a repeat of the conversation he had with Lorelai.
"I don't think I will be able to come down. Is there a way we could figure this out on zoom or emails?" Lucas asked.
"Well, Mr. Putnam and Mr. Pratt, the owners of the Publishing House, were looking forward to meeting you," Chet informed him.
"Listen, I get it but someone close to me and my family passed away last night. It's just really complicated right now," he explained.
'God, I am so sorry to hear that. Take all the time you need and I'll try to see if we can get on a zoom with the owners after things settle at your end," he answered.
"I really appreciate that, but I have to ask… changes?" Lucas asked, his eyes squinting. He thought that his book was great as it is.
"Don't get me wrong, when I found out your father was a convicted murderer...that's exactly the kind of hook we need in today's market. The writing's good, but I'm not gonna lie to you, it needs some work. For example, how set are we on the title?" he asked in a voice that was over the top cheerful to hide the actual subtext.
"What's wrong with the title?" Lucas asked, defending it.
"Doesn't a Murder of Crows fit better?" Chet asked.
"Huh," Lucas said, surprised by his take.
"Look, I read a lot of manuscripts, but yours was the first one that actually spoke to me. I mean, yeah, there's some rough parts, but your writing has truth, soul," Chet encouraged.
"Rough parts?" Lucas asked, feeling like he was on the receiving end of a barrage of criticism.
"I promise, as your editor, I'll always be faithful to your voice, but there's some work to do. Besides, it's part of the process. We're talking late hours, long nights, heated arguments." he replied flippantly. "But can I ask you something?"
"Yeah."
"The Luke and Peyton in the novel…" he began expectantly.
"No." Lucas shut that book quickly.
"I'm sorry. I was rooting for them."
"Yeah. I know what you mean. Anyway, thanks for being gracious about my inability to come to New York," Lucas said before ending the call.
How did Brooke manage being a single parent? Brooke and Sam had been out of commission for a day and he was feeling pressure like never before. Jamie was almost done with his cereal by the time Lucas was done with his calls.
Suddenly, he heard the doorbell ring. He looked at Jamie, confused regarding who it could be. He carried Jamie into his arms and went to the door to find Skills and Haley on the other side. Haley's eyes were red and Skills' usual confidence seemed to have taken a hit as he stood hunched over by the door. Lucas welcomed them in.
"Hey, you and Sam weren't at school and they broke the news at the assembly and we need to tell you something," Skills rambled, not going straight to the topic since Lucas had a three-year-old in his arms.
"Yeah, I know," Lucas said gravely. "Jaim, do you want to watch some cartoons?"
"Alright!" he replied. Lucas set him up in front of the TV and the adults went to the kitchen where Lucas poured each of them a coffee.
"I can't believe it, is it really true?" Skills asked as he sipped the coffee Lucas handed him. "We had a free period, so Hales and I decided to come and let you know in person."
"Yeah," Lucas replied like a zombie.
"What am I gonna tell my students?" Haley asked, equally heartbroken and worried.
"What are we gonna tell the team?" Skills replied with a grimmer question.
The three of them just sat in silence for a few minutes, unable to accept that someone who was such a light had been taken from them.
"I was gonna tell him I was proud of him. You know, last night when you came by the office... I said, I'll just talk to Q tomorrow. I was gonna tell him how far he's come and how proud I was of him for that. You're supposed to get tomorrow, you know? That kid was just 17 years old. His life hadn't even started yet. And the phone rings in the middle of the night, and he's just...gone. It's just wrong, Luke. It's impossible and just wrong." Skills said, unable to fathom the loss.
"I feel like I let him down. I asked him to be a good example and a good teammate. And then I go and get suspended? I told Sam that Q was bad news," Lucas replied.
"Yeah, but you was defending him, though," Skills tried to appease his conscience.
"I was failing him. He's got a little brother. He's got parents." Lucas asked, his mind going back to Denise.
"How does a mother ever breathe again?" Skills asked the hard-hitting question.
Eventually Haley and Skills left to go back to school. Lucas got Jamie bathed him. Then he left him in his room with some toys and went up to check on Brooke and Sam. Brooke was awake, looking at Sam with a fatigued expression.
"She's still asleep?" Lucas asked. Brooke jumped on the bed in terror, hearing a male voice behind her. "Shit! I am so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
"No, no, it's fine," Brooke shrugged.
"How are you?" Lucas asked.
"I'm fine," she replied with a fake half-smile.
"Fine enough to finally tell me what happened?" Lucas asked.
"Yeah, about that. That kiss, it meant nothing. I don't even know what it was and why it was and why we both did what we did and it was a mistake, right?" Brooke rambled. "You did it because you were upset that I am hurt, right?"
"Oh, right, yeah yeah. You were spiralling because of mom's ring and i figured that would calm you down and it sort of worked for the moment but then we got thrown into a whole other mess," Lucas babbled in response.
Brooke's eyes immediately went to her empty finger as her eyes struggled to keep the tears at bay. "I am so sorry about the ring. I don't know what to do," she whispered. "I'll talk to Karen and pay her back but I know it's not about the money, it was about Keith's memory which was priceless. Excuse me." Saying that, Brooke dashed to the bathroom.
Sam suddenly stirred in bed and sat up, looking at him. Lucas didn't know what to say to her. "Can we go see his family?" Sam requested.
"Yes, absolutely. Even haley and Skills would like to go. They're at school right now, but I will text them. As soon as school lets out, we will all go. Why don't you get dressed and I'll make you breakfast?" Lucas offered.
"Where's Brooke?"
"She's in the bathroom. Don't worry," he said, looking at the closed bathroom door, with a forlorn expression on his face.
Haley entered the classroom and felt like she had entered a funeral. The children in her classroom looked devastated. Two chairs remained empty, belonging to Sam and Quentin.
She sighed and said, "I don't know what to say to any of you. So, um, if you want to talk about how you're feeling -"
She was suddenly cut by a student. "What's the point? I mean, he's gone, right? Some idiot just shot him, and now he's gone forever. So what's the point?" he asked angrily.
"There is no point." she replied, just as devastated as the rest of her class.
Haley's phone dinged with a text from Lucas informing her that they planned to go to Q's house once she and Skills were done with school.
Brooke put on her sunglasses over her eyes to cover her face. They made her face sting, but she didn't have another choice. Putting on a dress, she felt her body combust as she pulled up the zipper. She got down and saw everyone waiting for her.
Jamie did not know where they were headed. He looked around curiously as his dad drove them to a neighbourhood he hadn't been to before. When the reached, they saw several people in and around Q's house. Lucas gave a weary smile as he saw Haley park her car behind his. She and Skills emerged out. Yet, Brooke first noticed a young boy sitting on the swing in the front yard looking down sadly. Immediately, her heart constricted. If something happened to Sam, she couldn't imagine the toll it would take on Jamie.
"Go ahead and play. Stay in the yard, okay?" she instructed when she saw Jamie looking at the little boy with a curious expression. Jamie nodded his head and ran to occupy the empty swing seat.
"Hi," Jamie said, keeping his usual chirpiness to a minimum.
"They gave me a present," the kid replied, pointing to the ball that he was holding.
"What are you playing?" Jamie asked.
"Basketball. What's your name?" the kid asked, jumping topics.
"James Lucas Scott. What's yours?"
"Well, everyone calls me Dre, but my real name is Brandon Andre Fields. Quentin was my brother," he replied sadly.
"Quentin was my friend. He liked my cape." Jamie replied.
"I'm gonna be a musician when I grow up," Andre said randomly.
"I'm gonna play basketball!" Jamie replied enthusiastically.
"Yeah, I might do that, too. My mom makes the best spaghetti in the world!" Andre said.
"My mom makes good macaroni and cheese," Jamie replied. Unfortunately, most of his meals wee quick and easy ready to eat stuff that Brooke could whip up without burning the place down.
"My grandpa can whistle really loud."
"My grandma Karen has travelled the world!"
"My favourite animal is a cheetah," Andre said as if they were having the most normal conversation in the world.
"Mine's a rabbit... or a tiger... or a raven!" Jamie said thinking about Chester and then finallylanding on his father's team mascot.
"Yeah, a Raven. I'm not going in there. It's too sad. What colour is your cape?" he asked. Quentin was proud to be a Raven.
"Red," Jamie replied.
"Cool."
Inside the house, Lucas looks at a photo of Q on the fireplace.
"Coach Scott... I'm Quentin's mother... Denise. Thank you, Mrs. Scott, for calling me and calling 911," she replied, shaking their hands and trying to keep her composure.
"Ma'am, we're so sorry that we couldn't do more," Lucas replied with a serious expression.
"I wanted to thank you for standing up for my boy the way you did in that last game. It's a shame that we have to meet like this."
"Yes, ma'am, it is," Lucas replied.
"Coach Taylor... Quentin always had so many nice thing to say about you. I really appreciate you boys coming here, but I mostly wanted to say thank you to this one. My son has always loved basketball. But I got to tell you... when I came home and found him reading a book; it just about gave me a heart attack. He said, Mama, Mrs. James Scott, she don't play. He said, She almost as bad as you are. I realize that you were all trying to help my boy live up to the greatness that god gave him, and you should be proud of that." Denise said.
Haley almost broke down but kept her strength, "Your strength is inspiring."
"My strength is from Jesus Christ. I am gonna miss my baby boy for the rest of this life," she said sadly. She looked at the picture of Quentin and hugged it close to her heart. "But I know we are gonna see him again, and our faith will see us through."
"Sam, my boy talked about you too," Denise said, looking at the scrawny teenager hiding behind Brooke.
"He did?" Sam asked, poking her head out of Brooke's shadow. Her eyes widened.
"Yeah, he said he wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend, but was terrified about crossing Coach Scott," she said with a weak smile. Sam blushed on hearing that.
"The funeral is day after tomorrow and I think Quentin would love it if you gave the eulogy," she said.
"Me!" Sam replied, surprised.
"If you don't want to, it's alright sweetie," Denise said, not wanting to upset the already brokenhearted kid.
Sam looked at Brooke, silently asking her to make the choice for her. Brooke gave her a reassuring nod with a smile.
"I'll do it," she said though it took all her energy to agree.
"Hey B, what's with the sunglasses?" Haley asked.
"I, uh, fell down the stairs and hurt myself," Brooke replied.
"Oh honey, it looks terrible. Are you icing it?" she asked, her voice full of concern.
"Yeah, It looks worse than it is" she replied, wanting to get out of the conversation.
"When did it happen?" she asked.
"Last night," Brooke replied to the point.
"Okay," Haley replied, getting a weird feeling about it.
Brooke didn't want to extend the conversation and exited to the front yard and beckoned Jamie to join him. "Jamie, come on, buddy, time to go."
"Bye," he said sadly and joined his mom.
"Mommy, what happened to Quentin? Why was his brother so sad?" Jamie asked.
Brooke looked at her son sadly through her sunglasses. "It'll be alright buddy, come on."
Everyone decided to meet at Haley's house. "It's just so hard to accept that things like this happen, and not just to Quentin, but at all...ever," Haley said.
"One out of every 500 people gets assaulted or raped. There were 30,000 aggravated assaults in our state alone last year, 7,000 robberies, 3,000 murders, 600 rapes. It's official. Life sucks, and then you die," Brooke spat out the facts. Jamie who was in the den playing with Nathan had chosen that exact moment to walk in and stared at Brooke whose glasses were down.
Brooke felt guilt immediately at what she had let out. "I'm sorry. It's a tragedy. I know it is. I'm sorry. Excuse me," she said and excused herself. She walked out to Nathan and Haley's backyard and stared at the pool. Haley, who was concerned walked to her.
"Hey," she said, calling out to her friend to let her know that she was behind.
"I'm so sorry about that. Do I need to go talk to Jamie?" she asked, concerned about her son.
"No, he's fine. You can talk to me, though," she said sincerely.
"I'm just going through a lot. Starting a company and dealing with Loerlai and the whole foster care thing. And then I... fall down the stairs. And now this. It's just a lot," she said, it probably being the only honest thing she had said since a while.
When you weren't around, Nathan and I were having some problems due to the distance and opposing views about starting a family. It took some strains on our marriage. There was a therapist that Nathan and I went to. She really helped. I can give you her number if you want," Haley replied, knowing that Brooke was good at holding it all in.
"Okay," she said, feeling all the weight to be too much.
"Okay. Good. I'm really sorry about everything. Must have been some fall down the stairs. Does it hurt?" Haley asked.
"It all hurts."
Haley reached out to her and held her gently by her sides to take her in.
The next day, despite protests, Brooke and Lucas sent Sam to school. She scowled the entire way there but once she was in the classroom, she relaxed a little because she saw that everyone there wore the same expression as her. It felt slightly better to know that she wasn't alone. She remembered that she was new to the school. There were people who had probably known Quentin since kindergarten. Plus, the teachers weren't spirited either.
Nathan had come down for the funeral to support Haley and the family. He drove her to school that day. They stood in front of the memorial for Q.
"I don't know what to say to them. I'm 22 years old, and I'm supposed to make sense out of all this for my students? I... I can't," she cried.
Nathan took out the book of the Miserable from Haley's bag and gave it to her.
"You reached Quentin. You'll reach them, too," he replied reassuringly. She took the book and caressed the cover.
During English, Haley didn't get up to teach her lesson plan. She kept playing with her pen instead, a faraway look on her face. Something suddenly snapped her out of her daydream.
"You know what? Um... you guys asked me what the point was to all of this school and literature...life. And, uh, I said there was no a point. And that's not true. What I should have said was, I don't know, because the truth is, not long ago, I sat right where you are and wondered exactly the same things. When something that's tragic and evil and unexplainable happens like losing someone forever... I still wonder...just like you do. Okay just put your books away. All right, everybody, get out a piece of paper and a pen."
"Why?" Sam asked, her fiery spirit getting the better of her.
"Because this is a literature class. When archaeologists uncover lost civilizations and they unearth these worlds that have long since been destroyed, you know what they find most often? They find stories...ancient languages, words, inscriptions from people who've been gone for thousands of years because chances are, they, like you, they wanted to know, what's the point?" Haley explained. "And they wanted us to know that they were here, you know? Like... they told their stories, and they tried to make sense out of their lives and their worlds and their tragedies. So that's what we're gonna do. So I want you to write something, anything at all, about Quentin Fields. If you knew him, write a favourite memory. If you didn't know him, write what you think the point is of all this for yourself and your life and your time here. This is a literature class, and that's what writers do. We put pen to paper in times of devastating tragedy. And we just try and make sense of it. Maybe we'll find clarity in some of those words. Maybe we'll find peace." As Haley walked around the class saying that, she saw that there was something written on Quentin's desk. 'We miss you, Q'
"Who wrote this?" Haley asked.
Quentin's best friend owned up, "I did." He was ready to face the repercussions.
"Give me your marker," she replied instead, surprising it.
"He who does not weep does not see. What's that from?" he asked, reading what Haley had written.
"Les misérables. The miserables. Who's next?" she asked. Soon, there was a line to write something. Samantha stayed put at her desk, unable to accept that that was all that would remain as a memory of Q. Haley looked at Sam with concern, but did not force her. Everyone had to heal in their own ways.
Soon, everyone in class was writing about Q. Sam thought it was the perfect time to write her eulogy.
"Hey Luke, I was thinking that maybe he shouldn't go to the funeral. It's just gonna be so sad and final," Brooke said to Lucas as they were getting ready to go.
"Well, that's what death is, Brooke," Lucas said.
"I know, but he's 3 years old, and he still sees a better world than we do," Brooke replied.
"Yeah, maybe you're right. Maybe Jamie should sit this one out. Who can we ask to babysit? Isn't everyone attending the funeral?" Lucas asked.
"Peyton isn't. We could ask her. She will be leaving soon anyway," Brooke replied.
"Yeah, that's a great idea." Luke replied.
"Hey, how are you doing? You have been so busy taking care of all of us that nobody has been taking care of you," Brooke said.
"I just feel numb, like I'm in a bad dream, and I just want to wake up. I just want Q to wake up," he replied with a little sadness.
"Did they...have they found the person responsible?" Brooke asked.
"I don't think so."
"Can I borrow your phone to call Peyton?" Brooke requested.
Lucas handed his phone but made a mental note to get her a new one. Brooke squared things with her and then proceeded to put on her dress for the funeral. Sam was getting dressed in her room and Lucas was already in his suit.
"How come you're getting dressed up again?" Jamie asked, seeing his mother in a black dress.
"Because, uh, mommy and daddy are gonna go to Quentin's funeral, and you're gonna go to Aunt Peyton's hotel. She and Julian are going to spoil you!"
"And what happens there, exactly...at the funeral?" Jamie asked.
"We're gonna say goodbye to Quentin, honey," Brooke answered truthfully.
Jamie quickly ran out of the living room and went to Sam's room. He gently knocked on the door before opening it. He saw that Sam too, was wearing a black dress like his mom and she had a black headband keeping her hair neat and her bangs out of her face.
"Sammy? Are you alright?" Jamie asked.
Sam looked at the little kid and quickly wiped her tears. "Are Brooke and Lucas ready?" she asked.
"Sammy, please don't cry," Jamie said, his eyes welling up.
Sam looked at him but didn't say anything. She proceeded to grab her paper where her eulogy was written. Jamie saw her hands shiver and her body emit a sob as she held the paper in her hands. He left the room and went to his own.
"How else was I supposed to explain it to Jamie?" Brooke asked Lucas when she saw him run away with shock and fear on his face.
"Well, maybe after you explain it to him, you can explain it to me," Lucas replied, making Brooke give a brief smile.
"How's the team doing?" she asked.
"Not so good. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if they forfeit the rest of the season."
"I just wish I could help you somehow," Brooke said, meaningfully.
"You help me so much without saying a word," he said. "The team wanted to offer Q's jersey to his family and I have to go collect it from the lockers at school. I'll be back soon and then we can head, okay?"
"Yeah, sure," Brooke replied and saw him take off.
Five minutes later, somebody rang the doorbell. Lucas had a key, so Brooke knew it wasn't him.
"Who is it? Brooke asked from the other side of the door.
"Nathan," came his reply. Brooke hesitated for a moment, but then opened it.
"Hi, Nate. Come on in," she greeted. "t's a tough day, huh?"
"Yeah."
"I wish there was something I could do for you or Haley," Brooke said.
"Well, actually, we were wondering if there's anything we could do for you." Nathan replied.
"What do you mean, why me?" she asked, sounding surprised.
"Well, I know that you have been struggling with restarting your Company given what your mom pulled before, and... I don't know...and I guess having dealt with parent insanity, I just wanted to check your head and see how you're doing. Haley told me about the stairs…." he said, pointing towards her face.
"I'm fine. Really," Brooke replied, this time the lie coming out easier as she had repeated it numerous times by then.
"That sounds like something I would say. Look, this thing with losing Quentin is...it's hard. And I have a feeling it's gonna be a pretty prominent thing in our lives for a while. It doesn't mean that your problems are any less important, that all of us aren't here for you." Nathan said.
"Look, like I said…"
"You're fine." Nathan completed her sentence for her with an eyeroll.
"I can handle it. It's all good," Brooke repeated.
"Look, I hope that's true, and maybe it is, but...the thing is, the two of us have been down very similar roads. I mean, we were in the same cliques first. We both felt the same pressures, same expectations. Our parents were like children, and we both grew into kind of bad versions of ourselves way too fast. So I think you know I get it." he reminded her, drawing parallels of their lives.
"They never really gave us a chance, did they...our parents?" Brooke asked, feeling sad.
"They didn't know how. Look, the thing is, you made your dream happen, all right, in High School. Remember Daute, I dealt with it alone and it almost cost me Haley. All because I dealt with it alone. That was stupid, selfish, and wrong. So if you feel that same pain I did, I've sort of been there, okay? I'm gonna be kind of pissed off if you don't come talk to me about it. Anyway, thank you for coming today for Haley and Lucas. It means a lot, I know you didn't know Quentin, but...it doesn't surprise me that you're thinking about other people when all this stuff is going on with you. That's not bad for a girl who never had a chance." Nathan said and gave Brooke a hug.
Sometime after Nathan left, Sam walked down, ready to go.
"You look beautiful honey," Brooke said. Sam had cleaned up. She had a dress and heels on, her hair was brushed neatly and clipped back by a black hairband. Her makeup was soft and natural.
"Thanks," she replied. Just then, Lucas walked in.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yes, Jamie, we're going…" she called out. They had to drop him on the way to the funeral.
Jamie came out wearing his suit in an unkept manner. "I want to go," he said.
"Jamie…" Lucas called.
"Sam is upset because Quentin was her friend, and I want to be there for her when she says goodbye. Quentin liked my cape. He taught me a dance. He was my friend too."
Sam grew emotional hearing that. "It's gonna be really sad, buddy," she said.
"I'm already sad," Jamie replied.
Sam squatted down and helped tie his tie correctly. She gave him an hug and lifted him in her arms. "You're right. Quentin was your friend and a good one. He taught you that ridiculous dance and everything. You should say goodbye."
"I guess I'll tell Peyton that we aren't coming," Lucas said.
Everybody arrived at the cemetery and saw Quentin's coffin be brought. Jamie saw Andre arrive with his mom and gave him a short wave. Andre waved back, with a serious expression.
"The lord is my shepherd. I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake..." the priest said. "We're to celebrate the home going of young Quentin Fields."
The team of Ravens arrived and stood in attention by the coffin. One of the boys gave flowers to Denise. She accepted them as she tried to keep her tears at bay. Lucas walked up to them and offered Quentin's jersey. Andre took it from his mother's arms. He put it on and stood in attention in the spot the Raven's players had left empty - Q's spot.
Sam stood up when it was time for the eulogy. "Quentin Fields was a basketball player. He was also a son, a brother, somebody's teammate, somebody's friend. I didn't get a lot of time to get to know Quentin Fields the way some of you did. I guess now I never will. Did you ever wonder what it would be like if you weren't you anymore? If you were suddenly gone, how would your world react? Whatever you imagined is wrong. There's nothing romantic about death. Grief is like the ocean. It's deep and dark and bigger than all of us. And pain is like in thief the night...quiet, persistent, unfair...diminished by time and faith and love. I barely got to spend time with Quentin Fields but I'm jealous of him, because I see how his absence has affected the people who did know him well, so I know that he mattered to them. And I know he was loved. People say Quentin Fields was a great basketball player...graceful, fluid, inspiring. They say, on a good night, it almost seemed as though he could fly, and now he can."
As soon as she was done, Sam began bawling. She ran down and hugged Brooke and Lucas and Jamie. By then, the funeral was over and everyone was taking off. Lucas helped keep Sam steady and guided her to his car. Jamie walked towards the casket, looking at it.
"I got him," Brooke told Lucas who had his hands full with Sam. She took off her sunglasses and stood by Jamie's side. She just watched him and noticed that Jamie was looking at the little box that he had carried with him. Brooke had assumed that it was a toy. Jamie put the box down and opened it. It had his red cape inside. Jamie covers a part of the casket with his cape.
Somehow, that is enough for Brooke to break down. She bursts out crying, allowing all her fears to leak out. Jamie quietly grabs her hand and allows Brooke to sob uncontrollably.