Broody and the Bitch

By: Typokween

BROOD: to dwell gloomily on a subject b: to be in a state of depression—to think anxiously or gloomily about.

BITCH: a lewd or immoral woman b: a malicious, spiteful, or overbearing woman— something that is extremely difficult, objectionable, or unpleasant.

I Brood because you Bitch.

BROODY

"Why do you hang out with her?"

This is a term I've come to know and loathe. You don't ask a flock of birds why they're grouped together. So why do people always have to ask me? I hear this sentence so much I've come up with several different responses.

For instance. My favorite response to this question is: because she's my baby momma, or: because she owes me money, or: because she pays me to. Usually once I've uttered one of these magical answers I'm laughed at then left alone. But there are those who insist to be told a viable reason. Like Haley. She asks me at least twice a day and I've yet to answer her. Why?

Because even I don't really know why I hang out with Brooke Davis. But I do, and I can't even begin to imagine my life without her.

-x-

"Morning Broody," Brooke ambles up against me at my locker that morning, "you're looking extra sexy today." She whispers huskily in my ear and presses her warm soft body into mine.

I smirk at the shocked faces of my peers and turn so that I can pull her to my lips. Our audience just can't get enough of this. "Shouldn't you be off screwing the football team?" I ask her teasingly.

She smacks me playfully and pretends to be offended, "Well," she pauses to ponder this quandary, "lets see, been there. Done that. I've moved on to the basketball team." She tickles her fingers in my sides.

I don't squiggle or giggle like a girl. But I do crack a smile and pull her mouth to mine again. "Good thing I'm on the team then, huh?"

She nods, "Uh huh." Her dimples deepen and mini me hardens.

"Brooke! What the hell are you doing with that loser? Come on, we're ditching class!" Teresa, one of the cheerleaders on Brookes squad calls out from down the hall.

I stand back and watch in amusement as Brookes face goes from pleasant to spiteful in under two seconds flat. "Listen here slut!" She shouts out extra loud so that anyone within earshot can hear, "Who I hang with is my business. Lucas is not a loser. In fact if you have a problem with my boyfriend then you have a problem with me. And let me tell you darlin' I can be one scary ass bitch when I put my mind to it." She growls, her eyes narrow in the direction of the 'cool kids' that are gathered around by the exits.

Murder. A group of Ravens.

"That's kind of a general warning by the way," she adds a second later. "And no more of this hazing shit. Luke is just as good as the rest of you, Nathan." She directs this comment towards my half-brother.

The posse of cool kids dissipates, apparently no one wants to ditch class anymore. I turn to the scary five foot nothing brunette and smirk down at her, "So," I slide a finger down the side of her cheek, "I'm your boyfriend, huh?"

She blushes. "Shut up," she playfully pushes me away. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and walk her to class.

-x-

Class is boring. Its always boring when you're smarter than your teacher. I've read Of Mice and Men several times since I was twelve. My own personal copy is so tattered and old from multiple readings that I had to retire it to my shelf and buy a new one. John Steinbeck is a genius.

"Pssst!" Marty Houston, who sits behind me in English, taps my shoulder and passes me a note. He juts his chin in the direction of Brooke after I give him a horrified face when looking down to see hearts scribbled over the 3 by 3 inch folded paper. Once my heart has resumed its normal pace and I'm sure Marcus is not after my bod, I unfold her note and smirk.

Broody,

Don't you think its time you turn that frown upside down? Think of me in my underwear, that'll knock the scowl right off your face. And the socks off your size 14 ½ feet. Hint, hint.

xoxo,

Brooke

p.s. when will I ever get to see you in your underwear?

I toss her an amused look and shake my head when she winks and slips her shirt down over her shoulder to show me her bra strap. She laughs and goes back to pretending to listen to Mr. Geoffrey drone on about the concepts of the book we're reading. The one I've read hundreds of times. The one I know by heart and will almost certainly spend the duration of my afternoon explaining to the sexy Brooke Davis in my room.

I'll try to be serious and concentrate on the topic at hand. She'll smile and distract me with all her seductive tricks. I'll gently push her away, remind her that what I want from her is more than sex, then I'll try once again to elucidate the book. By then she'll be bored and lay on her back in my bed, she'll curl into my side like she always does and fall asleep to the sound of my voice as I read aloud.

I steal one last glance in her direction and admire the way the sunlight hits her and makes her glow. Her hair is long and glossy, her skin soft and smooth like glass. She catches me staring and winks. She looks like an angel.

With devil horns.

-x-

"God Peyton, not now." I roll my eyes and walk past Nathan who's having yet another fight with his girlfriend, Peyton Sawyer. She's not too bad, a bit on the whiny side but she's hot and she's Brookes friend. "You always do this, get off my fucking back!"

"I saw your hand on her ass Nathan!" Peyton shrieks loud enough to gain the attention of half the gym.

Practice in the Tree Hill gymnasium is never anything but eventful.

"My hand on who's ass? The only ass my hand is ever on is yours!" He bellows back at her, "and even then that's a rare occasion seeing as how all you ever want to do is draw in that crappy sketch book!"

Then there she is, in all her voluptuous glory as she struts across the floor like she owns the place and leans her arm casually on Peyton's shoulder, "Mind telling me what the hell is going on here? You two are acting like an episode of The O.C."

"This asshole is cheating on me and has the nerve to lie to my face about it!" Peyton shouts, she doesn't care that the entire gym can hear her. In fact, I think she wants it that way.

"Okay, chill out." Brooke's voice is soft and calming, the only reason I can hear her is because I'm standing two feet away pretending to tie my shoes for the fifth time. "Nate, quit trying to pull one over on Peyton. She's not stupid and you're the dumbass who thought screwing with Teresa would be kept between the two of you. Everyone knows she has the biggest mouth in school and I don't mean because she spends most of her time on her knees either." She snorts.

Nathan scowls and turns to start in on her, "Why don't you mind your own fucking business and quit being such a bitch Brooke? Matter of fact just go back to your charity case named Lucas, I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

Her shoulders tense, her hands fist at her sides and I stand up ready to defend her. But I don't have to, I never have to. She knows how to take care of her self more than I've ever known anyone to do.

"You know what Nathan? Sometimes when I stop to think about who got the short end of the stick between you and Luke? I don't hesitate to choose you."

He snorts in response, "Don't hurt yourself using that unused brain of yours. We all know you'd rather exercise your legs." Nathan snaps and immediately regrets it because the second it comes out the slap that pierces the air is deafening.

Her eyes are tearful, her body trembles with rage. As much as she tells me she hates him, I know she's lying. They'd grown up together since infancy, she looks up to him. He's the only one who was there for her growing up when her parents were not. Which why its so shocking that since we've begun to hang out he's gone from overprotective brother to jackass without hesitation.

"I'm sorry," he blurts and takes a step to follow her after she's turned her back to him. She speed walks towards the exits and slams the doors open to leave, "Brooke! Wait, I'm—"

"Back off," I grunt and swing an arm out to collide with his chest, blocking his way. "You've done enough." I scowl.

His eyes harden and his jaw clenches, "Get out of my way." He warns.

I roll my eyes, "You really wanna risk going a round with me when Whitey is three feet away? What will daddy say when you're banned from next weeks game?" I gasp and press a hand to my mouth.

"Bastard." He hisses and shoves past me towards the benches.

"Beats being an asshole like Dan." I spit back and walk off in the direction Brooke left the gym.

-x-

She's sitting in her car staring at the steering wheel when I find her. Her eyes are red and her face is blotchy but she's never been more beautiful. I lightly tap on the glass and feel a poke of guilt when she flinches, startled to see me standing there at her window.

She presses the unlock button and I tug open the car door, "Hey pretty girl," I whisper and kneel down to be eye level with her.

She tries to smile but fails miserably and looks away as she struggles to keep her emotions in check. Then all of the sudden she asks the question we've silently vowed never to ask each other. "Why do you hang out with me?"

I lean into her car and pull her forward so that our foreheads touch and I take a deep breath. Enjoying this moment for as long as I can. "Because," I whisper, closing my eyes and breathing her in. She smells like wild strawberries and feels like silk, her lips are velvet and I'm velcro.

"I'm serious," she mumbles, drawing my eyes open to stare into hers, "I'm a whore Lucas, even my own best friend thinks so." Her voice trembles, "why would you want to hang out with the school slut?"

"I have a better question for you to ask." I pause and shift my lips so that they hover a breath away from hers, "Ask me why we haven't slept together yet."