Title: One Crazy Night
Disclaimer: Alas, I don't own the characters of Popular. They belong to Ryan Murphy, but hopefully he won't mind if I borrow them for a little while.
Feedback: Yes, please!
A/N: This is my very first Popular fic. Or any kind of fanfic, for that matter. So please let me know what you think, cause I'm a little nervous about actually posting. And I haven't actually seen all the Popular episodes (and the ones that I have seen, I saw a long time ago), so I apologize in advance if I get some facts or anything wrong.
A/N2: This starts off when Sam and Brooke are freshmen in college, but at some point there'll probably be some flashbacks to earlier.
A/N3: Thoughts are in italics. And memories/flashbacks are in (( ))
Brooke's head hurt. A lot. She could tell that light was streaming into her room, but she couldn't quite face opening her eyes just yet. As she lay motionlessly on her bed, flashes of memory suddenly came streaming back to her...
(( Her hands entangling themselves into the long hair of the girl below her.
Their lips coming together, first with hesitation, then with passion.
Soft hands urgently pressing on Brooke's shoulders, pushing her farther downwards... ))
Was it all a dream? Instantly, Brooke became aware of the fact that she was not alone in her bed. How could she have missed this very obvious bit of information?? Her heart racing, Brooke finally teased open her eyes, bracing for the sunlight and whatever else she might find.
Yes, there is definitely a girl in my bed, but I can't quite see her face. And her shoulder is making a very comfortable pillow. And I'm half on top of her. And neither of us is wearing clothing. Shit. What's going on??
The stillness of the room was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a vibrating phone, sitting on top of Brooke's desk. As quickly as she could, Brooke extracted herself from the arms wrapped around her and rushed across the small room, grabbing the phone before it could wake up her peaceful bedmate.
"Hello?," she whispered harshly into the phone.
"Brooke? Why are you whispering?," was the reply on the other end.
"Nic? Why are you calling so early?"
"Early? Brooke, it's 12:30! You never sleep in this late. What's wrong with you? Are you sick?"
Brooke whirled around to look at her clock. Sure enough, Nic was right. But her clock was sitting on the small table right next to her bed. Her bed that was not empty. Her bed that was occupied by -- she had been afraid to look, afraid to confirm her suspicions, but now she couldn't help it -- occupied by Sam. Her step-sister. Her very naked step-sister.
Oh god. Not good.
Sam had rolled over onto her side, cuddling up with Brooke's pillow. Brooke had just enough time to think about how cute Sam looked. Then she remembered that she too was naked, and she was still on the phone with Nic. Grabbing the bathrobe hanging on the back of her door, she quickly put it on and turned back away from Sam, while Nic practically yelled in her ear.
"Hellooooo?? Brooke, what the hell is going on?!"
"Um, sorry Nic. It's just that, um, we had a party on the hall last night. And, um, yeah. I was up pretty late. And now my head really hurts. And I'm sure that, um, lots of other people on the hall are still sleeping too. And um, you know, walls are really thin here. So yeah, that's why I'm, um, whispering."
There was a slight pause. Brooke cringed, knowing that Nic wasn't likely to buy her awkward explanation.
"That's bullshit, McQueen." Another pause, then, with excitement in her voice, "You slut! Who's in your bed?? That's why you're acting all weird!"
"What?!" Brooke answered, louder than she meant to. She heard Sam start to stir behind her, but she refused to look back there. Returning back to whispering, she quickly went on, "No one is in my bed! Because right now, I'm not in my bed, and there is definitely no one else in there either."
Don't panic. Don't panic.
"You are such a bad liar, Brookie. I've always told you that." Brooke could practically hear the smirk that she just knew was spreading across Nic's face.
"Look, Nic, this conversation has been lots of fun. But like you said, it's late. And I have a lot of stuff to get done today, so I gotta go. But we'll talk again later, sometime, okay? Great, bye!" And she hung up without waiting for an answer, and then immediately shut off her phone.
Don't panic. Don't panic. Hopefully Sam's not awake yet, and then... And then what? We're in my room, so it's not like I can just leave. And what if she is awake? And I'm just standing here like an idiot, looking at my phone.
Slowly, Brooke turned around. Sam was sitting up in her bed, the sheets pulled up tightly to her chin. She just stared at Brooke with a definite deer-caught-in-headlights look. Brooke was sure that the look mirrored the one on her own face. They just stared at each other. Neither one daring to move.
Then Sam suddenly sprang into motion, jumping out of bed and grabbing the first bits of clothing she came across -- her own pants, but Brooke's shirt, pulling it on inside out.
Brooke just watched the frantic action, unsure of what to do. Sam finally stood up fully, glancing briefly at Brooke's stunned face, before her eyes continued sweeping the room, and she spoke her first words since waking up.
"Where's my key to my room? I have to go."
Grateful for something to do, Brooke also started looking around the room, her eyes finally landing on Sam's keychain, halfway hidden under Brooke's bra on the floor.
Reaching down to pick it up, she simply held it out to Sam, without saying anything. Sam grabbed the keys from her, mumbled what sounded vaguely like "Thanks," and quickly left the room, leaving Brooke alone.
Brooke simply collapsed into the chair behind her and banged her head down on the desk.
What a great start to my day.