A/N: This idea kinda popped into my head yesterday and I just let it flow. Basically, Haley and Peyton are best friends who like to cause trouble. Their newest destruction thrusts them into the lives of the people they very despise. If you like nice and innocent Haley I suggest you consider what you're about to read.

A/N2: Background info: I guess you could call it AU, slightly. All the characters are slightly out of their usual realm and I find that fairly interesting. Nathan and Lucas have the same background info and anything about Haley, Peyton, and everyone else while be told you to. This first chapter is told in Haley's POV but I'll probably change the POV to fit the story.

A/N3: Enjoy. Read and Review.

Addicted to Chaos

Haley POV

I sat in the uncomfortable chair, one knee propped up exposing my knee cap through my ripped and faded jeans. I let most of my hair hang up with thick stands of my auburn locks brushing across my face. I sat, pen in hand, drawing on my jeans glancing back and forth between my art and the slightly balding man in front of me sitting behind the desk.

I was in some deep shit.

And I could care less.

"Miss James, I suggest you take this seriously."

"Dude, I totally am." I retorted looking directly into his eyes.

"Do you have any idea what a mess you caused?"

"Well that was the intention."

"And you Miss Sawyer. What do you have to say?" he asked turning his attention to the blonde next to me picking at the tip of her Converse. She glanced up and rolled her eyes before returning back to her shoes.

"She doesn't talk." I interjected. "Well at least not to you. "

"I've tried to help you the best I can ladies." He sighed and I couldn't help but scoff. Ladies? Please. "But I've reached the end of my rope. You're parents will have to be notified of this behavior."

Parents? Please. Good luck with that one buddy. I could count on one hand how many times I've seen my parents in the last year. Doing God knows what in places I can't even pronounce. I think that after five kids they had to recapture their youth. I just don't think that they considered they had one more kid to raise.

But maybe that was for the best.

I am hardly a tutor girl; that role is reserved for my sister Taylor. I'm hardly a saint and I despise rules and any kind of order. I am a firm believer in loopholes and the knowledge that rules can be broken. You tell me to sit and I stand. You tell me to stand and I jump. And if you tell me to jump, well maybe, just maybe, I might.

Peyton's parents were a completely different story. Well parent. Mom. She would be here in two seconds flat. Anna, her mother, was truly an angel. And I say that with the utmost disgust. Peyton treated her like shit and Anna just took it. I guess you're suppose to when you love your kid and she's all you've got.

Peyton wasn't always like this. She was an adorable little angel too at one point. Which, by the way, I totally made fun of. Then about two years ago she cut off all her hair and straightened it, dyed it black and grey, and stopped speaking to everyone. Turns out, Peyton's father didn't think the two women in life were angels. Or enough for that matter.

So I'll admit, I felt bad for her and I took her in. And we became inseparable. I guess you could call us best friends without all the emotion shit that goes with it. I didn't cry about my parents not loving me and Peyton didn't bitch about her dad leaving her. It worked out well on both parts.

She taught me how to draw fairly decent and I tried to teach her how to sing. And drive. Neither of which she can do very well. We had each other's back. When someone tried to move in on my guy Peyton kicked her ass. And when someone tagged her locker with the word 'DYKE', well I caused a riot.

We weren't that wild I would say. I mean yeah, we did damage and had fun but I guess we weren't as bad as some other people. Yeah, we drank and hooked up but it was harmless fun. Nobody got hurt in the long run. Well, at least I didn't think so at the time.

So what exact kind of damage did we do? I guess the more correct question to ask is what didn't we do. I mean there were the fire alarms and the crank calls. Oh the laxatives in the teachers coffee. There was the time we stole the principal's brand new Porsche; only to wreck it and end up in juvy for four days. Or there was that time we stole a pig from Mr. Johnson's farm and let it run loose in the girl's locker room.

Now all that stuff is bad. What did we do this time?

We toilet papered the gym.

Now ask me why the principal has his panties in a bunch.

Because Whitey is pissed.

And Whitey is the coach of the basketball team.

Which is undefeated.

Who now cannot practice.

"Miss James, Miss Sawyer; clearly my early attempts of suspension and your stint in juvenile hall are not motivating you enough. I've decided to take a different approach this time."

"Great." I mutter.

"Miss James, despite your obvious lack of discipline, your grade point average is fairly decent. I see you excel in history and English and I believe that will be used to the advantage of a Mr. Jake Jagelski. He had to leave in the middle of last year and has recently returned. He's far behind in his lessons and I believe you would do a great deal in helping him."

WHAT? Did I not just get done saying I wasn't the tutor girl?

That doesn't mean I'm not smart.

Son of a…

"Now, Miss Sawyer, I golfing buddy of mine runs an orphanage a county over. He'll expect you there Saturday morning promptly at seven. And you will do this every Saturday and Sunday until the basketball season is over."

"But…" I start to protest.

"And for both of you, how's your school spirit?"

"Excuse me?" we both ask together looking at each other in horror.

"You may know my niece Brooke Davis…"

"You mean captain of the cheer sluts?" I snort.

"Miss James! That will be enough of you smart comments!" he scolds and I just roll my eyes. "Starting Monday, the two of you will be rooting for our school on the cheerleading squad.

No freaking way.

"This of course after you spend the entire weekend cleaning up the gym. Starting today."

Unfreakingbelievable.

"And what if we don't do this?" I challenge.

"You'll face expulsion and you'll have to go t a different high school."

Shit.

So we nod and grumble and agree to his crappy term and head out of his office and down the hall to go to the gym. Peyton's dragging her bag on the ground and I'm hitting lockers as I go down the hall. We stop at the gym and I peer through the glass to look at all the chaos we created last night.

It was incredible.

"I can't do that crap Haley." Peyton says, speaking up for the first time.

"Yeah you can. You'll scare the little orphans and I'll tell Jagelski all the wrong stuff. It'll be a piece of cake."

"No, I mean yeah that too. But what are we gonna do about cheerleading?"

Insert string of profanities here.

"So what? You'll shake your skinny pale ass and I'll do a cartwheel and call it a day." I shrug, when in all actuality I'm pretty much dreading it. "Dude, we'll be fine. We'll figure something out." I say trying to convince her as much as I'm trying to convince myself. And before she can even speak, I'm being dragged into a supply closet and pushed up against the wall.

"Hey Hales." He whispers into my ear before starting to kiss my neck. I can't move, I'm revolted, and I hear Peyton saying my name and pounding on the door to no avail.

"I suggest you let go of me before you lose what's left of your manhood." I threaten but that doesn't seem to stop him as he makes his way down to the button of my jeans.

Snap.

"Stop it. Just stop."

Zip.

"Peyton!"

Slide.

"Dude get the fuck off or her!" I stop the tears that were almost ready to fall to see our third amigo, Chris, whipping open the door and pulling the guy off of me. He and Chris are shuffling about and before I completely succumb to my losing battle with tears I hall off and knock the living shit out of the guy.

Hey, I've got a mean right hook.

I'm about to go in for hit number two but Chris grabs my shoulders and we step back together out of the closet. Surveying the destruction, I smirk, satisfied that his nose is now bleeding. Profusely. So I let the scared girl in me disappear and let the tough bad ass girl exterior emerge in victory.

"Are you okay?" Peyton asks, genuine concern flashing across her pretty face.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I grit out one more time before making good on my threat and stomping down in between his legs. He keels over in pain and agony and I just laugh. Before I leave him completely to cope with the loss of his probably only decent ability I throw one final threat his way. "Don't you ever fucking touch me again, Felix."

"Hales that was hot." Chris smirks, slinging his arm around my shoulder as we continue down the hall.

"He just can't handle that I hate his guts and refuse to acknowledge him."

"You realize you're gonna have to recognize him once we start cheerleading right?" Peyton pointed out.

I'm being cursed.

"The two of you in a short cheer skirt? Hell yes, I am so at every game now." Chris replied grinning like an idiot.

Okay, here's the thing about Chris. He wanted me, I shot him down, and now we're the best of friends. Minus, of course, the mushy emotional stuff. He's plays guitar and gambles, all the while getting his ass beat by a midget and making out with a transvestite. But shh…he doesn't know that.

"Look, Chris we gotta go. You know you're brilliant idea to trash the gym? It got us in a world of shit; including cleaning it up. How do you mange to get off on everything?"

"I party with the principal."

"Or go down on him." Peyton quips swinging open the gym door and walking through it. We both look at each other, shrug, and knock fists before I go into the gym and he walks outside to his car.

"Umm…" I stutter upon walking into the gym now swamped with half naked basketball players in just gym shorts. Peyton looks annoyed and once they hear the door slam, the team looks up we notice the scowls plastered on their normally handsome faces.

Clearly, they're pissed.

"Hello boys." I say cheerfully walking up and linking my arms with Peyton. "To what do we owe this great pleasure?"

"We're here to help you clean up obviously. Hence the brooms and trash bags gracing our hands." Nathan Scott, basketball co captain and all around good guy say holding up the objects in his hand for emphases.

"You realize you're missing your aprons right?" I return and Peyton stifles a laugh.

"We can't afford to miss a weekend of practice because you decided to trash our gym. What did we do to you?" Lucas Scott, second co caption says placing his hands on his hips.

"Ok chill man. It has nothing to do with you or the team." I say just as Felix walks in holding paper towels to his face. "Well not the whole team."

"What happens to you man?" Tim Smith asks and Felix just blows past him and into the locker room.

"He's must've tripped." I smirk, trying to hide my own giggles. "Anyway, we just wanted to get out of gym class."

"You're lucky we don't have a game tonight." Nathan grumbled, sweeping the debris into a pile.

"Oh, so I guess we should've done this last week huh?" I say walking over to where he's sweeping.

"Move." He commands holding his place steady, waiting for me to move so he can continue sweeping. I quirk my eyebrow up and look at him like he's crazy.

Clearly, he is.

"Will you please move?" he grits out through clenched teeth. I almost cave.

Almost.

"Why? It's not like there's anything in it for me." I retort and I see anger flash through his eyes before he throws the broom down, picks me and physically moves me.

I'm about two seconds from kicking his ass as well but Peyton grabs my waist and holds me back, all the a while my arms are thrashing back and forth. She keeps telling me to stop and after a few seconds I do tiring myself out.

Besides I've got more important people to deal with.

Like the person who just walked through the door.

Brooke.

Like it? Hate it? Scratch that. I know you love it. Drop me something.