He could hear a girl gasp in the background, but it was faint. The only sound fully audible was the ringing in his ears. He could hear someone taking foot steps toward him, and he cringed, knowing what was coming next.
Nathan pulled his foot back, ready to kick Lucas in the stomach in order to make sure he stayed down on the floor, before Rachel screamed, "wait!" frantically.
He turned to face her, his face twisted in anger. "Rachel, what could possibly be more important than this right now?" he growled, his voice low.
"Don't hurt him anymore, Nathan," she said as she ran over to Lucas and squatted down next to him. There were a few splotches of blood on the concrete near his mouth, but no major damage done from what she could tell. He opened his eyes, the voices finally becoming more comprehensible. Lucas sat up, and reached to wipe the stray blood from his lip, spitting quickly to rid the metallic taste from his mouth. He stood up to face Nathan, Rachel following his lead.
Rachel stepped in front of Lucas, into Nathan's face. "You can't hurt him," she said, folding her arms over her chest boldly.
"Rachel…" Lucas protested, putting his hand on the redhead's shoulder to pull her backward. This was his battle to fight. If it meant being physical, he would do it. As long as Brooke ended up safely at home and not in some stranger's bed, he would do anything.
"No, Lucas. He can't do this now. Not at Brooke's expense. Have your little playground fights and rivalries when other people aren't involved."
Nathan stood, clueless. His eyes darted between his girlfriend and his enemy, and then to Brooke, who was fast asleep in the back of Lucas's car.
"Rachel," Lucas warned again, pulling her backwards. "Let me just explain, okay?"
She looked over at Nathan, shooting him a venomous glare. "You better listen to what he has to say Nathan Scott or I can promise you, you will be a very unhappy boy when Brooke is sober."
Nathan took a threatening step toward Lucas, heeding Rachel's warning. "You have thirty seconds to explain why my sister is passed out in your backseat, why you have my sister in a bar, and why you were even together in the first place."
Lucas took a breath, hoping that the lie he had conjured quickly was completely believable. "I came to get a drink. Brooke was here, and getting wasted. I ignored her the entire night, until she started dancing with some pervy guy who couldn't keep his hands off her. I kept my mouth shut and just kept an eye on her, knowing who she was strictly because we have English together… but then the guy got her so wasted that she was practically passed out on his shoulder. He tried to make her leave with him, so I raced after them before they made it outside, and I punched him after he wouldn't let go of her. I was gonna take her back to my house until she sobered up, explain to her what happened and then take her home, but you knocked me out before I even had the chance."
The sentences came out calmly for someone whose mouth was still bleeding slightly, his cheek burning where Nathan had punched him. Nathan looked at Rachel, as if to verify if this was the truth. She nodded, knowing all to well that the story was a lie, but it was a good cover. This was typical Brooke behavior, even Nathan knew that, so his lie could've easily been something that had happened in the past, or that was bound to happen in the future.
Nathan's face was still quizzical. "So, you're trying to tell me you were protecting my baby sister?"
"We may hate each other, but Brooke's not part of that. She's not you," he shrugged as if it was so obvious. "And I would never let someone I'm acquainted with get hurt when I could prevent it."
"Real noble, Scott. Real fucking noble," Nathan stated, stepping closer to Lucas once again to intimidate him. "I'll believe you this time, just because Brooke isn't the most innocent girl in the bunch. But let's get something clear: if you ever fucking touch my sister again, I will cripple you from basketball and your little hero complex. Is that clear?"
Lucas just looked at Nathan with narrowed eyes. "Rachel, keep your best friend and your boyfriend on a leash," he stated calmly, still staring at the green eyed boy. The stare down continued for a few more seconds before Lucas unlocked his car, scooped a mumbling Brooke out of the backseat, and passed her over to Nathan. Without another word, receiving nothing more than an apologetic gaze from Rachel and no thank-you's, he stepped into the driver seat of his car, zooming through the parking lot and onto the main road, leaving the three in his dust.
-x-x-x-x-x-
The next morning, Brooke woke up to the sound of Nathan's voice mumbling how irresponsible she was as he shut off her alarm clock. He pulled her shades open, rays of golden light tumbling in around her.
She pulled her pillow over her head, her eyes still closed. "Turn off the light!" she whined.
"You can't turn off the fucking sun, Brooke."
Uh-oh. He was mad.
Her headache was blearing and she had no desire to talk to her virtuous older brother. "Can we talk about this later? Or how about never?" she mumbled from beneath the pillow.
Nathan sat on the edge of her bed, sending a wave of motion that made Brooke nauseous enough to puke the contents of her stomach. "Do you know how you got home last night?"
"Yes," she lied.
"Well, then you can explain why you would ever get drunk enough so that Lucas Scott had to save you."
The memory flashed before her eyes quickly. Her and Nick. Her crying. Lucas's car. The bar. Kyle… or was it Kevin? That's where it went black.
"I don't remember," she admitted. "I was drunk. I had a bad day."
"That can't always be your excuse, Brooke."
She sat up in her bed. "Well, today it is. And it's also my excuse for why I can't go to school."
Nathan opened is mouth to argue, but she raised her hand in protest. "No. You can't keep doing this. I'm not the perfect sister like you and Dad want me to be. I'm never gonna be that girl, so you have to stop holding me up to those standards."
Nathan shut his mouth, his face stoic, before leaving the room without another word.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
It was already one in the afternoon and Brooke was still in bed. Her head was still hurting and she had puked numerous times since her conversation with Nathan. She wasn't sure if it was from her hangover, from the incident with Nick yesterday or because she couldn't seem to fathom what Lucas had told Nathan that kept the whole situation very hushed or why he had protected her in the first place.
She popped two more Advils, tilting her head backwards as she took a gulp of water, when the door bell rang. She groaned, stepping out of bed and making her way down the stairs. Who could possibly be coming over at this time with both her parents out of town was unknown to her.
She opened the red door to reveal Lucas clad in an old, worn pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He looked like shit, sporting a raw cut in the middle of his lip. She cringed looking at him, knowing where the cut had come from. She reached up to his cheek, cupping it in her hand instinctively, the soft stubble of his skin running across her soft palm.
"I'm sorry," she choked out more emotionally than she preferred. "I'm so sorry he did this to you."
He smiled slowly at her. "You're okay," he said, relief spreading across his face. "I got nervous that since you weren't in English. I figured Nathan may have killed you or something."
She laughed softly. "Come in."
He nodded, following Brooke into the sunroom deep in the house. The room was all glass, from ceiling to walls, and the warm, fall sun poured in from all directions. They each took a seat in one of the four plush chairs that were set up in a small square. Under the harsh light, the cut across Lucas's lip was more vibrant, a small bruise on his cheek bone becoming more apparent in the bright light.
"What'd you tell him?" Brooke asked once they were settled. "I mean, he would've killed me if he knew the full truth, so when he didn't, I knew you covered for me."
He sighed. "I told him I was in the bar when you came in and started drinking. I told him I kept my distance until I saw that scumbag try to take you home with him despite the fact that you were incoherent at that point."
"This must've been after he punched you."
"Mhm," he mumbled, running his hand over the cut again. It burned slightly under his touch.
"You look like hell," she stated, motioning to his disheveled hair and outfit. "I'm sorry, Lucas."
"You look beautiful," he stated seriously. Her hair was sloppy from lying in bed for countless hours, and she was clad in only a white camisole and sweatpants herself, but despite it all, Lucas definitely didn't mind staring at her. "Was it worth it?"
"Was what worth it? I didn't get laid, and I have a bitch of a hangover."
"Was the hangover, the drinking, the fight with Nathan, worth keeping everything inside, getting wasted and almost screwing some asshole?"
"You know, you have the good looking thing going for you, you don't really need the perceptiveness too," she sighed.
"You know, you have the beautiful, mysterious girl thing going for you, you don't really need to keep hiding behind booze and boys," he stated with a shrug.
"I can't tell you what happened. I just can't," she stated. He sighed before she continued. "But… you can help me. This time, I promise I'll be sober and you won't get punched, how about that?"
"I'm not taking you anywhere. No way, no how."
"Please Lucas," she pouted. "I need some air."
"So we can sit in the backyard."
"C'mon Luke!" she whined. "I wanna go somewhere. You'll like it. Actually, by the time I'm through with you, you'll love it, I swear! But first we have to get you cleaned up."
She stepped over to him before he could respond and grabbed his hand, leading him into the bathroom. She got out antibacterial wash designed to clean cuts from the mirrored medicine cabinet and poured it onto a cotton ball.
"It's gonna sting," she warned as she hovered the soggy cotton ball above his lip. He nodded, and she pushed the ball down, pressing it into the cut. He cringed slightly feeling his eyes tear at the searing pain, but he just smiled at her when she pulled away.
His back was pressed against the sink, the edges digging into the small of his back. The bathroom was considerably small, and Brooke had to lean over him to place the cotton balls and antibacterial wash back into the cabinet. Her leg brushed against his sending a chill up his spine. When she pulled back, he was looking at her in a more serious way than she had ever seen.
She laughed nervously. "What are you looking at, Broody?"
He shrugged, and looked down at his own hands nervously. He had kissed and wooed his fair share of Tree Hill juniors and even some seniors, some sophomores too, but something about Brooke scared him. She was outgoing and confident and guarded, and he wasn't used to that. The girls he had gotten with were all open to anything that he had to say. He could've probably convinced half of them to jump of a bridge if he gave them one of his signature winks after.
Brooke put a finger underneath his chin, lifting his eyes so that they were locked with hers. She searched them. She wasn't sure what she was looking for: truth, lust, trust, or maybe sympathy even. But she couldn't read him.
She pulled her fingers back quickly as if the touch had sent a violent electric current through her. He smiled at her crookedly, as if an epiphany was washing over him. He placed his hand on the side of her face and she let herself fall into it, closing her eyes momentarily and taking in his touch.
"Brooke," he whispered, bringing his lips to her ear. "When are you gonna admit you want me?"