Message In a Bottle

A:N/ God I suck at titles- if anyone has a better name for this fic please tell me! I absolutely hate picking out titles for my stories…I'm terrible at it. I might as well just call them all 'Story 1…Story 2…Story 33'.

Summary: Someone unlikely keeps sending Brooke love notes. When she finally finds out who it is will she return their feelings? Femslash, cuz that's how I roll.

Disclaimer: Would you guys believe me if I told you that I actually do own One Tree Hill? No? Fine then—I do not own One Tree Hill or any of its characters they are the product of some other person's imagination-they're getting paid to write! Lucky!


Chapter 1-

Brooke Davis walked into the main hallway of Tree Hill High fashionably late-as usual. It was like clockwork. She'd show up around the same time every morning and make her way over to her locker... crowds parted to make room for her to pass- almost like Moses and the Red Sea. Everyone stopped what

they were doing or saying to watch her. The guys checked her out while the girls snickered; jealous of all the attention she was getting from their boyfriends. The only person who ceased to do this was her best friend Peyton Sawyer. She didn't drop everything she was doing to give Brooke her full and undivided attention- and that was one of the things Brooke loved about her, she always seemed to pull her off her high horse and bring her back to reality. She made her feel normal; she could be herself around Peyton. She was one of the few people at the school who didn't worship the ground she walked on. Not that she minded any of that, she loved when people focused on her, but on the same token it was nice to have someone to talk to that wouldn't agree with everything you said like half the girls on the cheerleading squad did. Peyton was pretty much her complete opposite- the good twin you might say.

Speak of the devil…or angel. She grinned when she spotted Peyton leaned up against her locker, reading…one of her poetry books most likely.

"Aww, isn't that sweet? You couldn't bear to be away from me any longer." She sighed and put a hand over her heart dramatically.

"Don't flatter yourself Brookie." Peyton closed her book and stood back to let Brooke into her locker. "Your God Complex is showing."

Brooke arched a perfect eyebrow and looked down at her tube top briefly. "That's not my God Complex you're staring at my dear." Peyton rolled her eyes. She chuckled and lifted the latch of the locker door and opened it, as she did a folded up piece of notebook paper fell to her feet. She bent down and picked it up and looked it over. It just looked like a simple piece of notebook paper she would've normally mistook for notes for a class if it hadn't been for the fact that her name was scrawled neatly across the front…in someone else's handwriting.

"What's that?" Peyton asked as she looked over her shoulder.

"…It's a nice hard slap in the face if you don't stop breathing down my neck." Brooke sniped, though both girls knew she was only kidding.

Peyton stuck out her tongue. "Lemme see it."



"No, give me a chance to open it fi—" The first period bell cut Brooke off mid-sentence. She slammed her locker shut.

"Show me at lunch!" When Brooke looked up she noticed Peyton was already halfway down the hall. She threw her arms up in a 'what the hell' sort of way before she too headed to her first class.


Brooke propped her head up on her arm and looked up at the clock as her teacher lectured the class. The first few classes before lunch always seemed to drag on forever. It was terrible; it was like her teachers were trying to kill them all slowly. Death by boredom. She grimaced. Next to dying of embarrassment and drowning, dying of boredom was definitely on her top 3 list. She suddenly sat up straighter, remembering the note. She slowly pulled it out of her purse, careful not to draw any unwanted attention from her boring teacher and opened it—placing it in one of her open books so it appeared that that was what she was reading.


I can't take it anymore,

I have to tell you how I feel.

I can't tell you in person just yet because I'm afraid of how you'll react.

I can't stop thinking about you,

You're the one person I want- but can't have because of our history

I know you're probably reading this racking your brain about who I possibly could be.

But I guarantee you won't be able to figure it out that easily.

We don't have the history you're thinking of, even though I wish we did.

I can't write anymore now without completely spilling my guts out to you-

But you'll find out who I am when the time is right…I promise.

Until next time….


She sat there re-reading the note over and over. Who could've possibly sent her this?

You're the one person I want- but can't have because of our history.

We don't have the history you're thinking of, even though I wish we did.

She had history with pretty much everybody at school. But what did they mean by ' not the history you're thinking of'? Suddenly the sound of the bell signaling the end of class shrieked through the room- bringing her out of her thoughts.

Brooke knew she wouldn't be able to concentrate until Peyton saw this so she rushed over to her friend's 2nd period class, Biology, to find her already in her seat- reading that damn book again. One of the many things the two differed on was the love of books- mainly because Brooke didn't. The kind of reading she liked was the kind with a picture of Brad Pitt next to it.

She sat down in the empty desk next to her and slammed the note down on her desk to get Peyton's attention. Peyton looked up from her book and let her gaze shift around the room quickly before returning it to Brooke and the note.

"I'm not in the wrong class am I?"


"Good, just making sure, I haven't been able to put this book Haley loaned me down since I got it last night."

"What the hell is it?" Brooke questioned and lifted it up to check out the cover.

"It's a book, Brooke. Maybe I should introduce you two." Peyton mocked and giggled.

"And maybe I won't show you my note and do—this—instead." She picked up the book and hit Peyton on the top of the head with it.

"Ouch! Bitch!" She cried, her hand resting on where she had just been hit.

"Oh pipe down will ya? I barely hit you."

"Ms. Davis, I think you are in the wrong classroom."

Both girls looked up to see the teacher staring at them as more students filed in.

Brooke stood up, leaving the note on top of Peyton's book. "Oh- so I see- I'm sorry, my mind's been somewhere else lately." She explained in the sweet voice she always used around the teachers and backed out of the room to find her 2nd period English class.


Yay or nay? Or hay? Lol.