***

Brooke pretends not to know.

Last year in Health class, the grade had to go through a required and mortifying Sex Ed unit. Brooke was taking/passing notes to Sarah, the kid next to her was already fast asleep.

The teacher turned off the video, turned to the class and asked, "So how exactly does one ontract an STD?"

A guy let out a muffled laugh behind her and murmured, "Brooke Davis."

**

Brooke's a slut.

The girls' bathroom is to the guys' locker room. Girls will gush about their boyfriend or make catty remarks while mascara-ing their lashes, guys will boast of third bases while changing into uniform. Brooke knows her name is on the lips of both.

She's supposedly kissed half the guys on the basketball team. Maybe she has. She can only really remember some things. The line between consciousness and unconsciousness is pretty thin.

She knows one for sure, though. Nathan Scott.

It was weird with Nathan. He wasn't like this trophy guy, like everyone else. Even if it did seem that way. He was a really good basketball player, she knew that much. The two had been in Science together for as long as either could remember. They'd been lab partners sometimes. He took really good notes, she remembers.

One day, it just sort of happened. It was midterms, and they had to seperate the substances in an unidentified beaker. They had no idea what the hell was in there, it took them longer than any other group. The teacher was horrible, too. He made Brooke and Nathan stay after school for an hour, dissolving things in alcohol and water. She whined that it would cut into cheerleading practice, he said he had basketball drills.

It was about three forty five when Nathan realized the damn thing was sugar, and he put down the test tube and smiled at her. Brooke was just so happy, she was passing science and all, she just sort of kissed him.

The kiss was really short, anyway. He pulled away quickly and looked back down, intent on his notebook.

"So, I'll get the report to Ash by Monday. And, you know, if you leave now, you can still make it to cheerleading."

Brooke looked down really shyly, for some reason, because shy is never something she could do very well. "Okay," she murmured, and she got her purse and said a 'bye.'

He didn't say anything about it the next day. And if he wanted to pretend it didn't happen, she could go along with it. She didn't cry about it. It wasn't like she really had a big crush on him since the eighth grade. And once had a dream about him, or that she silently squealed whenever he said her name.

She'd made it to cheerleading practice.

-

Around the tenth grade, somehow the rumor went around that she and Tim had done it at Kristen's party. She remembers Tim and her on someone's couch, but the cops crashed the party before anything could really happen.

Tim knows this too, but he gave Michael the high five the next day, nonetheless.

She felt horrible. She didn't even like Tim, and suddenly every guy was watching her pass as she walked the halls. It was like she wasn't Brooke anymore, she was that cheerleader, that really hot one that you should so invite to the next booze fest.

Then she kinda liked it, though, because the newfound attention got her a date with her two week crush, a junior. They went out with a group of friends for fast food, he had shared his french fries with her, and after they went for some violent slasher movie. She would have rather have gone to the Jennifer Lopez romantic comedy, but whatever he wanted. It was okay, too, because when it was scary she closed her eyes and buried her face into his shoulder, and he smelled very good.

And after she had found him dating another sophmore from a neighbouring public school, she went out with the really cute president of student council. And then this other guy, but he got expelled for drinking on a school trip. There's this hazy period where she's not quite sure who she was going out with.

Yeah, she knows what people call her. As if people doing gym aren't watching the cheerleaders' routine, and actually running laps. As if she does her homework every night, without the help of some nerd she can round up with a 'hey there, babe'.

She knows it, and sometimes she flaunts it.

But then she sees Nathan as she passes the halls, and she kinda wishes it wasn't happening.

-

Peyton and Brooke have this thing, they both bail out of seventh period at exactly 2:14, to the girls' bathroom, where they re-apply their makeup and catch up on all the happenings that have happened since their last talk at lunch.

Brooke gets up from her desk, cites her emergency and leaves Spanish class. She opens the door to the bathroom, and can see a blonde haired girl talking to a shorter brunette. The blonde's straight hair swishes, fans in this hair cascade, as she turns to her friend.

"I still can't believe Brooke would do that. I once heard she did it with a freshman in college. Stealing people's boyfriends wouldn't be anything for that-"

Brooke turned and left before she could finish the sentence.

***

Brooke's a bitch.

Anyone that knows her one iota of a bit would know it. She would screw her friends over in a heartbeat, manipulate boys without a second thought, sell her family to a slave ring if it meant more fun for her.

Of course, everyone's heard about how she let Daniel whatever-his-last-name-is write her entire term paper with promises of a date, and then pretend her grandmother died, when she really went to some bonfire campout with Peyton.

She's a jealous bitch.

She wants things she can't have and then tries to mess things up for those that do.

That party? Typical Brooke.

She's jealous because she wants what Lucas wants, what Peyton had, what Haley will have.

She knows she's stupid. She's been called worse for what she did to Peyton and Nathan. But it's not like she's sadistic. It comes to a shock because it's Brooke, right? Who knew she could actually feel and want?

Nathan's not living. There's only so much pressure he can take from Dan, stress and anxiety built up from the moment he could stand and strong enough to carry a basketball. Brooke knows his mom is never home to do anything about it either, the few months she gets off is spent with charities and taxes.

Peyton's not satisfied. She spends hours in her room drawing whatever it is she draws, morbid stuff with things that would hurt Brooke's head to think about.

And it's like the only time either of them were happy, was together. Or it used to be. Brooke screwed that up.

And Haley? She doesn't know, Tutor Girl's crush hits home, because it just sort of reminds Brooke of her, before the slutty and bitchy Brooke took over.

But then it dramatically veered off course, because Nathan wasn't pushing her away. He was liking her.

So she does things that gets her called things like 'bitch', she tries to ruin the chances of Nathan and Tutor Girl be anything more than Nathan and Brooke.

She succeeds and then feels completely awful about it.

Once she starts, she really can't stop. It's like a natural vertigo, she's so doped up on alcohol or anger or whatever her drug of choice is, and she says something, she starts doing these things, and her mind and her mouth and her feet aren't acting in sync.

So it is a sadistic high.

She really wants to stop doing it. She really wants to be normal. She wants to be friendly and nice and not so damn jealous. She wants herself to let her happiness guide her, rather than her contempt. She doesn't want to be the girl that starts the game of Truth or Dare and winds up passed out on someone's floor.

Because after it's gone, after the momentary thrill of revenge being paid, of rightful justice and humiliation where it's due. After she starts laughing so hard her sides start to hurt, and all the faces start to blur into the color red.

The morning after she's worse off than before.

***

Lucas wants a girl that he can take home to Karen, someone as kind and caring and loving as he is.

He's everything Brooke isn't.

And once again, Brooke wishes she wasn't herself, so that she could be what he wanted.

It's after school, again. The place is the school's courtyard, underneath the big tree and near the wooden benches. The school's almost empty, just the few people lagging around half an hour after school's out. Some deliquents are under the bleachers giving each other tattoos, or whatever.

She finds Lucas sitting outside on the benches, reading some book that smart people like him read. She sits down next to him, asks him what he's reading. The answer is to-the-point and monotone.

"Oh," she says, and of course it's a book like Moby Dick, something she's heard of but wasn't very sure people actually read.

"Listen, I just wanted to apologize-"

Lucas closes his book and gets up. Walks away. Brooke furrows her eyebrows and follows him.

"I'm trying to be nice here! I really am sorry for everything."

"Are you really?" he asks, and he stops walking and turns towards her. Dammit, he looks like he actually wants an answer.

"I..am," she stutters. He's about to roll his eyes in his broody way but Brooke grabs a hold of the collar of his shirt.

She kisses him.

It's not long either, just presses her lips to his and hopes that he could in some way reciprocate it all.

He breaks as soon as he can get her hands of him.

"Dont you have cheerleading practice, or something to get to?" he asks, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt.

She doesn't feel anything, but makes it to practice.

***

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