Title: The Wedding Date
Author: TypoKween
Pairing: Wouldn't you like to know...
Summary: Brooke hasn't been home since she was dumped by her fiancée 2 weeks before their wedding. But now her brother is marrying her ex-best friend and the best man is none other… than her ex-fiancée. Now Brooke needs to find a date that will make her ex wish he were never born. Enter Nathan Scott... famous basketball player, gorgeous, and someone Brooke can definitely see herself falling for.
Rating: TEEN/ADULT; Language, Adult Content
Author's Note(s): I'm not sure how long this will last; I suppose it depends all on what you guys make of it. If you like it, I'll write more. If you hate it, I'll write until I don't want to anymore. Ideas for this fic are loosely based of the book "Everyone Else's Girl" by Megan Crane and "The Wedding Date" movie starring Debra Messing.

Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape or form, affiliated with One Tree Hill, Mark Schwan, any of the actors, or The WB (or should I saw CW?) and no infringement is intended. I own jack shit but the ideas in my head and a handful of original characters.

Please Note: This first chapter was largely written by my bestest beta ever: Erin. She would like you all to think otherwise but the truth is that she wrote most of this chapter (I just added to it). The other ones will be written by me so don't be disappointed if they start to suck. Haha!

Chapter 1: Crash Into Me

Brooke Davis tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and began to feel as if she was stuck back in high school again. It seemed like her mother had lectured her about something every day, and her lectures tended to be long, boring, long, repetitive, and... was long mentioned? The only thing Brooke could do was tap her fingers, her toes, her feet, her legs… and try to imagine what life would be like without the most meddlesome, opinionated mother in the world—that and see how long her gum would last before all of the flavor completely dried out.

The only thing missing was the gum.

"—and I'm sure it would completely kill you darling, to call once a week. What? Have you suddenly forgotten our number?"

"Of course not, Mother," Brooke snapped, inching the car forward another few feet. What was with traffic today! She leaned her head outside the window and sighed when she only saw and unending line of cars.

"In any case, I'm so disappointed in you, young lady. You know how much we miss you around here and you have absolutely no excuse not to keep in touch—"

Brooke was surprised when suddenly she realized that she was no longer connected with her mother. For once in her entire life she was grateful for her crappy cell phone service. With a groan, Brooke turned it off completely. Her mother would probably try to call back, and Brooke really didn't want to be on the receiving end of yet another famous mother Davis call.

Really, she didn't even know what she'd done this time. There always seemed to be something for Paige Emily Davis to complain about and it usually had to do with Brooke. Out of her large family, Brooke was the only one who didn't keep in constant contact—who didn't live only a few hours drive away. She'd gotten the hell out of Pleasantville and had run straight for the big city. Where her family sure as hell couldn't follow.

Except when they called. Then, Brooke could practically feel them sitting right next to her, disapproving gazes and all. So is Miss Big Shot Hollywood Editor too busy to give her—insert family member here—a call huh? Or her favorite: Can you get me so and so's autograph? I mean it's the least you can do since you missed Christmas with us again…

Brooke heard a loud horn blaring and she looked into her rearview mirror. Behind her was a large black Escalade. She couldn't see the driver through the tinted windows, but it didn't take a genius to guess. It was probably some sort of hotshot; either an actor or sports superstar, and he was probably irritated at the fact that he had to wait like everyone else to get from point A to point B. Typical.

And Brooke wasn't saying that from a third pointer's objective. She'd met guys like that all of the time. As editor of the latest fashion magazine CityGirl, one of the hottest magazines in Los Angeles and on its way to nationwide fame, she'd been exposed to her handful of celebrities. Most of them young and male, she'd pretty much gotten to know them like the back of her hand. And they were all the same; arrogant, immature, and damn cocky. It'd definitely caused her to add an extra security blanket around herself when dating. Los Angeles wasn't like her small hometown. Everyone didn't know everyone else's name, and you couldn't leave your purse on your table while you ran to the bathroom.

And traffic was definitely killer.

Brooke threw her head back and groaned when she looked at her watch. She'd been sitting in the exact same spot for nearly fifteen minutes. She edged up a little bit more. And to think... she'd been planning on walking today. That might have actually gotten her to work on time.

The horn blared from behind her yet again and she raised her eyebrows. Someone was definitely getting pissy. Well, with a big ass car like that, why didn't he just drive over everyone else?

Suddenly, "She Works Hard For the Money" by Donna Summers started to blare throughout the car. Jumping, Brooke reached for her purse. Lipgloss, lipstick, planner... where's the phone! Brooke began to feel like Mary Poppins as she was elbow deep in her purse, her fingers searching. Finally, they closed over the small phone (that was the downside of having the newest state of the art cell phone—it was so damn tiny it hard to find when you really needed it!) and a second later, Brooke had it out in the open.

The Caller-ID said "Work" and Brooke quickly flipped it open. When she'd last scene her cousin, Haley James had assigned each of Brooke's contacts a different song for their ringtone. And Paige Davis would just die if she knew which song was assigned to her—which was "You Drive Me Crazy" by Britney Spears.

"What's up?" Brooke greeted into the phone.

"Hi Ms. Davis, it's Mindy. I'm sorry to call your cell phone, I know that you said only to call in emergencies but I tried to call your car phone and it said that it was turned off so I figured this was as good an emergency as any other—"

"Mindy, breathe, okay? You are allowed to break giant rambles into sentences. It actually helps me understand what you're trying to say. Now, take a deep, deep breath. Can you do that?"

"Oh—okay," Mindy replied, stumbling over the words. Then, she paused and Brooke could hear her breathing. She threw a hand over her eyes. Mindy was Brooke's newest secretary, hired only a few days ago. Brooke could see the potential, but Mindy was too intimidated by the job and the people around her to actually relax and learn anything.

"Now," Brooke said when she was sure that Mindy was calm...er, "tell me what the emergency is."

"Your mother."

Brooke rolled her eyes. "Well, that definitely qualifies. What'd she do this time?"

"She's waiting on hold to talk to you."

"Tell her I'm not in yet," Brooke replied.

"I did. And she said that she knows you aren't in because she was just talking to you on your car phone, but that it died and she doesn't know if you got into an accident or not—"

"Oh! Mindy, you're a genius! That's really good. Tell her that I got into an accident and died."

Pure silence. Mindy cleared her throat. "I'm sorry?"

"Yeah," Brooke adjusted her sunglasses and waved her hand in the air. "Tell her that I was in a horrible wreck, died and she is now Brooke-less. Go with that."

"You want me to tell your mother that you died?"

"Sweetie, do you need to write it down?"

"I... I don't... Are you serious?" Mindy was at a loss for words. She couldn't possibly be this dim, Brooke wondered.

Brooke then groaned. Why, oh why did Melissa have to go off and get pregnant? She knew how to handle Paige—at least to the point where Brooke wasn't driven absolutely insane everyday. Ever since she took her maternity leave, Brooke was forced to talk to her mother whenever she called. And it was really, really getting on her nerves. "No, Mindy, I'm not serious. Patch her through."

Mindy sighed in relief. "Okay."

There was a moment of silence and then, "Brooke?"

"Hey mom," Brooke replied. "What's up?"

"Nothing is up, Brooke. Do you not remember the proper phone etiquette that I taught you?"

Brooke closed her eyes. "I'm sorry." She apologized, "Why is it that you are calling?"

"Well, you just hung up on me so fast that I wanted to make sure you weren't in a car accident or something equally devastating," Paige replied, her tone frosty and cold. Just like her.

"I didn't hang up on you. The car phone died." There was a 'hmmph' on the other end and Brooke knew that her mother didn't believe her. "Traffic's awful, Mother, I'm going to have to hang up soon. Did you need anything else?"

"You mean other than my only daughter to acknowledge her mother?" Paige snapped.

Brooke was not amused. "What do you want mother?" She repeated. It was best to just cut to the chase, it wasted less of her time. "I don't have time to listen to you complain about your latest pedicure or who's cheating on their wife this week." She snorted.

"You need to get your facts straight young lady." Her mother grumbled.

Brooke chuckled, "Mother it doesn't get more straight than that. You're officially on your way to becoming a real life Desperate Housewife."

"Anyways," Paige ignored her daughter, "obviously since you're too busy to ever call up the woman who brought you into this world," Brooke rolled her eyes, "I shouldn't be surprised that you don't check the post either." Mrs. Davis replied annoyed. "Have you even looked at your mail lately Brooke?"

Brooke blinked. This was why Mindy had to patch her mother through? "You harassed my secretary to see if I've looked at my mail?"

"Don't be ridiculous, I didn't harass anyone! It's not my fault that I don't even have my own daughter's cell phone number, is it?"

"Of course not, Mother," Brooke said through clenched teeth. Lie. "The number's new and I haven't had the chance to give it to you." Another lie.

"You're a horrible liar, Brooke. Have I taught you nothing? In any case, don't avoid the question," Paige snapped. "Have you checked your mail?"

Brooke shot her gaze to pile of unopened letters in the passenger seat. She'd grabbed the lot of them from her mailbox when she'd left for work that morning. Of course she didn't know whether or not to admit that she had the mail sitting next to her. If she said that she hadn't checked her mail then Paige would lecture her. If she pretended that she had and Paige had sent her something that she knew had already arrived, Brooke would get the Spanish Inquisition and then another lecture.

"It's sitting right next to me," Brooke said, opting for the first option.

"Look through it," Paige commanded.

"What, now?" Brooke snapped. "I'm sitting in traffic, Mom! I can't just look through my damn mail!"

"Language, Brooke Penelope Davis!"

"Sorry," Brooke apologized ironically since her mother could have one of the dirtiest mouths when she wanted. "I'm sitting in traffic, Mother."

"I don't know what I did to make you turn out this way, Brooke. Your brother isn't at all oppositional like you are, and—"

Brooke's hand tightened on the steering wheel in front of her. "Fine, you win, I'll look!" She immediately began searching for anything in the pile that could possibly interest her mother. She'd rather give in than listen to one more "Your brother is so much better than you are, Brooke" lecture. She practically had them memorized anyway.

Her hands fell on a thick envelope and Brooke immediately opened it. "Oh. My.—"

"You found it?" Paige asked, her voice suddenly squeaky and perky. "Oh Brooke, darling, isn't it wonderful news?"

"My VISA bill is crazy!" Brooke shrieked, her eyes growing wider as she flipped through the pages.

"Brooke Penelope!" Paige scolded. "Don't trick me like that!"

She noticed another large envelope and suddenly reached for it. She ripped through it and almost dropped her phone in shock. "Oh my…"

"You see! I cannot be—"

Brooke quickly interrupted with, "My cell phone bill is even worse! Oh that is so it for Taylor and her collect calls—"

"Brooke! Would you please keep looking?" Paige snapped. "This is not amusing!"

Brooke blinked. "You weren't calling about my bills?"

"Of course not! Why would I care about that?"

Because they're huge. And my cell phone bill is largely due to you and your insane amount of calls. "Fine," Brooke sighed, continuing to look through the pile, "tell me what I'm looking for."

"You'll know."

"Oh goody," Brooke grumbled. She shifted through the junk mail, coupons and notifications of sales, bills, a few letters from her cousins and finally... her hands fell onto a large, cream colored envelope. Her name was written in a fancy cursive, gold ink covering the entire front side of the envelope. With shaky hands, she flipped it over and slowly opened it up.

"Brooke, are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Brooke mumbled. She slowly pulled the card out from the envelope and froze when she read those five words, 'You are cordially invited to...'

"Oh crap," Brooke whispered, hazel eyes flying across the lettering. With a shaky breath, she flipped the invitation open. She had to reread it several times before it registered into her brain. Several.

Mr. and Mrs. Larry Sawyer
Request the honor of your presence
at the marriage of their daughter
Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer
to
Jake Edward Jageilsky-Davis
on Saturday, June 17, 2006 three o'clock p.m.
in the Tree Hill Chapel: Tree Hill, North Carolina
followed by a reception at the
Tree Hill Country Club: 950 North Sunset Road
Wilmington, North Carolina

"You've got to be kidding me," Brooke finally said. "Jake's getting—"

"Married! I know! Isn't it wonderful, sweetie?" Paige squealed—squealed!—a laugh escaping over the phone. "I'm so glad that your brother is getting married. And to Peyton! She's practically family, already. Oh, this was so meant to be. Aren't you just ecstatic! Couldn't you just die?"

"Yes, Mother," Brooke snapped, closing the invitation and throwing it back onto the pile of mail, "I could just die."

"Oh I'm so happy he's marrying Peyton." Mrs. Davis went on completely oblivious to her daughters change in tone, "You know ever since that horrible Nikki broke your brother's heart…"

This was where Brooke tuned her mother out. Jake. Her brother Jake. Was going to marry Peyton. Her ex-best friend.

Oh. Shit.

"I have to go." She suddenly blurted out.

"What? Are you hanging up on me again?" Paige accused.

Brooke pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head. "No. I just have to go."

"Fine, but call me later. I want to talk with you about the wedding plans. I'm sure that you'll want to hear everything Peyton's been planning."

"Yes, because that's exactly what I want right now," Brooke snapped. "I've gotta go now, Mother. Traffic's moving." She quickly shut her cell phone, drowning out her mother's voice. Well, it hadn't been a complete lie, traffic had moved up a few feet since Brooke had started looking through her mail. Now Brooke knew why the driver behind her had kept honking. But honestly... it didn't matter if Brooke moved up the few feet or not—no one was going anywhere.

Still, she began to move the car up the few feet of space in front of her. Behind her, the Escalade sped up and then suddenly jerked to the right to get into the next lane, which was moving much faster. The truck that the Escalade had suddenly jerked in front of, twisted to avoid hitting it. The driver slammed the breaks on, but the truck still came straight towards her.

Eyes wide, Brooke barely had time to blink before the black Dodge Ram slammed into her car and she spun out of her lane. The sheer force of the impact sent her body jerking around like a rag doll.

Brooke slammed on the brakes and pulled on the emergency stop. She was in the middle of the left turn lane, facing the opposite direction she'd been in before. With a shaky hand, Brooke turned the ignition off, counted to ten then threw open her car door. She took a hesitant step out of the car and breathed in the fresh air. Her head was killing her, her back was aching and don't even get her started on the pain she felt in her neck.

She saw a swarm of people hurrying towards her, and she looked back at her car in an attempt to get a look at the damage.

"Oh shit," Brooke groaned. The entire right side of her car was dented. It'd cost a fortune to fix...

"Are you okay?"

Brooke's hazel eyes shot back to look at who asked the question. Her eyes widened and her mouth nearly dropped. Hello gorgeous... Tall, tan, bright blue eyes and coal black hair, he stood in front of Brooke with concern in his eyes. His hands shot out to hold her shoulders and steady her and she nearly fainted right there.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hit you, but that car came out of nowhere. Are you okay?"

Brooke's eyes snapped open. "Whoa. Rewind... you hit me?"

His jaw clenched. "Completely accidental, I promise."

"But... you hit me? I mean... you hit me?" Brooke asked.

"Did you smack your head or something?" he asked, blinking. "Not to sound rude, but I just really, really hope that you didn't."

"Believe me, I don't want my head hurt anymore than you do," Brooke replied rubbing her throbbing temples. She ran a hand through her auburn hair (probably a complete mess right now) and winced when a particular spot hurt once her fingers touched it.

His grip tightened on her shoulders. "What is it?" he asked. "Do you need an ambulance?" His piercing baby blues bore down into her eyes.

"Calm down. It's just a headache." Brooke frowned. "Which I could have actually gotten from my mother, come to think of it."

He grinned. "I've got one of those."

"A mother? Not to sound rude, but duh..." Brooke took another look at her car. "Dammit, my car is completely trashed. It's going to be such a pain trying to deal with my insurance over this—"

"Actually," Gorgeous interrupted, "could we not do that?"

"What?" Brooke asked.

"The insurance thing. I got into an accident earlier this year and if I report another one my insurance will sky rocket."

Brooke laughed. "You're kidding, right?" When he merely looked down at her she frowned. "You aren't kidding."

"Unfortunately, no," he replied.

Brooke stepped out of his grip. "I think maybe you need to get your head checked." She scoffed and inched backwards to lean against her dented car.

"I promise that I'll pay for the damages to your car. I'll even throw in a free oil change, okay? But if this is reported I'm screwed."

Brooke frowned and opened her mouth, ready to say 'No way, Jose' when she paused. "How do I know that you won't give me the number to Domino's Pizza?"

He smiled. "Because I only eat from Pizza Hut."

"A joker huh?" Her eyes narrowed. "In that case, '911, we have an emergency'," she snapped using her fingers as a fake phone and walked back to get her cell out of the car.

"Wait!" he gently grabbed her around the waist and spun her around. "I'll give you my address, my home phone number, my cell phone number, my name, my mother's name... whatever you want, I promise."

"I think I can do without your mother's name. There are only so many mothers I can handle in one day," Brooke mumbled.

He still looked wary. "So... no police report, no insurance?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "No police report, no insurance." He smiled in relief and began to reach for his wallet. Brooke immediately stepped forward and put a threatening hand on his chest. "Let me just warn you right now though, if you disappear on me I will find you like you wouldn't believe. I will be on you like Veronica Mars on a 'dead classmate' case. You run, I follow. Got it?"

His eyes twinkled and the corners of his lips began to turn up. "Yeah, I got it."

"Good," Brooke snapped, taking a step back away from him. Then, she held out a hand. "Brooke Davis."

"Nathan," he said, his warm hand encasing hers, "Nathan Scott."

a/n: What do you think? Should I continue?