Chapter Text
Brooke stared at Peyton as she smiled, laughed, and blushed as Lucas whispered something in her ear. She could have killed her. She could have walked across the gym and ripped out those perfect, shining green eyes. She laughed at herself; the image reminded her of one of those awful emo songs that Peyton used to impose upon her. The sentiment was accurate, though. That kind of passion could only stem from true emotion. It had to be real if Brooke thought she could skin the girl alive, right?
They locked eyes more often than they should have, considering they were not speaking and hadn’t been for nearly a month. Despite everything, despite the looks of hatred that Peyton had been sending her, Brooke could still see the guilt and pain behind those huge green eyes. Peyton might have been good at keeping up appearances- fronts, really- but Brooke could see right through her. She saw the passion behind the hatred. Peyton looked like she wanted to rip out Brooke’s eyes as well, and that small fact gave Brooke hope.
Why were they fighting this time? Brooke couldn’t even remember. Some time after she found out that Peyton and Lucas were sneaking around behind her back (again), she had made one comment or another about them, about Peyton being a back-stabbing whore, and three weeks later, here they were.
“Bitch,” Peyton mouthed across the room, glaring into the hazel eyes that wouldn’t tear themselves away from hers.
“Cunt,” Brooke mouthed back, sure to enunciate enough that Peyton couldn’t mistake the word.
From behind Peyton on the bleachers, Haley’s eyes went wide. Either Brooke was being really rude to her for some unknown reason, or this was the closest thing to speaking she had seen Brooke and Peyton do in a long time. She rose from her seat and made her way across the gym, despite the odd looks she received from her classmates.
“Brooke?” Haley inquired with concern, sitting next to the angry girl.
“That wasn’t for you, Hales. You can go back to your study hall double date,” Brooke said thickly, rolling her eyes.
“Have you two spoken?” Haley asked, no need to elaborate.
“Only if mouthing names at each other counts.”
“She misses you, Brooke.”
“Bullshit,” Brooke spat, shaking her head hard.
“She does, and you know it. You miss her too.”
“It doesn’t matter if I miss her, Haley. She did this,” Brooke sniffled.
“What exactly did she do?” Haley asked, trying to very subtly knock some sense into her friend.
“She… snuck around with Lucas,” Brooke countered quickly.
“And that’s awful, and I know it, but you two were still friends after that…”
“She called me a bitch,” Brooke argued weakly.
“And you called her a—something I won’t even say!” Haley gasped quietly.
“Are you saying this is MY fault?!” Brooke asked, appalled.
“No, Brooke. I just want to know what you’re really so upset about. You didn’t care about Lucas, and Peyton’s called you a bitch more times that I can count,” Haley said, knowing that she was getting through to her friend. “What did she really do?”
“She fell in love with Lucas and forgot I existed,” Brooke said quietly, deflating. “She stopped needing me, stopped wanting to be around me. She just… stopped.”
Brooke was good at keeping up fronts, too, but she couldn’t take this anymore. She was crumbling.
“You need to talk to her, Brooke. You know she cares. You know she’s crushed right now, too,” Haley said softly, watching the tears shine behind Brooke’s eyes.
“Yeah, she looks it,” Brooke scoffed sarcastically, watching as Lucas practically nibbled on Peyton across the room.
“It’s not real, Brooke. I think you know she’d rather be with you.”
Brooke whipped around faster than she had moved in weeks to see Haley shaking her head emphatically, wide-eyed and sheepish at her misspeak.
“I meant she’d rather be around you. Spend time with you,” Haley corrected herself soundly, though she wasn’t actually sure that’s what she meant at all.
XXX
Sine. Cosine. Who gives a shit?
Peyton was generally a great student, but she couldn’t seem to be bothered with the simplicity of Trig these days. She sat, sketching mindlessly as the teacher lectured, equally mindlessly.
Haley watched as Peyton stared off, her hand moving of its own will as it traced the pencil across the sketchpad. It was obvious that Peyton wasn’t herself lately; you didn’t have to be Brooke to notice that.
“You okay?” Haley whispered from her seat behind the brooding blonde, watching her sketch without her noticing.
“Yeah. You?” Peyton spat out, still drawing away.
“You sure?”
Haley reached up and tapped the sketchbook, bringing Peyton’s conscious attention to it for the first time.
In front of them sat a sketch of Brooke, the beginning of a real drawing, not cartoonish nor comedic. Her hair fell perfectly, as it did in life. She was smiling, her dimples implying that it was a sincere smile- a smile for Peyton.
Peyton looked from the sketch back to Haley, who looked at her too closely and saw too much. The embarrassment of her subconscious taking over- and of being caught- was too overwhelming for Peyton to handle.
“Fuck that!” Peyton spat angrily, more angry at her stupid brain than anything.
Before she could formulate her next thought, her excuse, Brooke appeared beside them in the aisle next to their desks. She sat in the back of the classroom and could have been on her way to speak to Haley or the teacher or she could have read Peyton’s mind; no one could be sure of anything anymore. No matter what her intentions, Brooke was, as usual, looking at Peyton. She had been staring at the sketchpad long before either of the other girls had even noticed her presence.
Peyton’s heart began to race, her breath ceased in fear. Her hand scrambled to close the sketchpad before Brooke could see, unaware that it was far too late. As her hand grabbed the book, ready to flip it shut, the warmth of Brooke’s hand enveloped it, stopping it (and all of Peyton) in its tracks.
Peyton froze.
So did Haley, anxiously awaiting a reaction. She knew Brooke, but that didn’t mean that she could predict her- Brooke was quite unpredictable. She could have begun to cry, or punch Peyton in the face and Haley wouldn’t have been shocked either way.
Brooke eyed the sketch, long and closely, taking in every line the pencil had made to create her. She never removed her hand from Peyton’s, knowing that as soon as she did the book would be shut, the image gone. Peyton knew her incredibly well and the fact that she sat rows behind the girl in class proved that she had drawn in from memory alone. Her eyes, her dimples… they were just her, but a version of herself that she was certain only Peyton had ever known.
She squeezed Peyton’s hand, causing the girl to finally, nervously look up to meet her eyes. The fear that Peyton’s expression held said enough for Brooke to know that she would never really lose her. In that moment, Brooke realised that she had somehow ended up holding the power. And she had wasted these past few weeks by not utilizing it.
“It’s… it’s amazing,” Brooke said quietly, staring into the huge green pools that suddenly couldn’t tear themselves away from her.
Brooke leaned down to Peyton, as she had a million times before, when it seemingly didn’t matter, and kissed her on the head, lips lingering on her temple before releasing her hand.
“Amazing,” she repeated in a whisper near Peyton’s ear, before standing and shaking herself out of it, walking to the teacher, as she had initially intended.
Now Haley watched Peyton, awaiting a reaction. The exchange between the girls had been intimate, not unlike every exchange they had when they were friends. She knew Peyton wouldn’t be able to handle it.
Predictably, after a moment of frozen awe, Peyton slammed the book shut, gathered her things, and rushed out of the room, never once looking back.