The next morning, Brooke woke up to the sounds of birds chirping outside her window. She got in late last night and didn’t want to wake her dad so she climbed in through the window and must’ve forgotten to shut it. Her head was still spinning from the night before. She was confused. About Jake. About what she wanted. And about what to do. Not to mention, she was still angry but less so than she was before.
“Morning, kitten. Just in time for breakfast,” Quinn greeted his daughter with a kiss to the forehead as she claimed a seat across from him at the island in their kitchen. Infront of her was a plate of pancakes and freshly squeezed orange juice. For as long as Brooke could remember, fresh juice in the morning was their thing and her dad’s specialty. “Thanks,” Brooke forced a smile and dug in before her eyes caught onto the flowers sitting out next to them on the counter. “Are those for me?” Brooke wondered. She got up to inspect them. She doubted they were for her dad considering they were her favorite color arrangement. “They came with that,” Quinn gestured behind Brooke where the card with her name scribbled on it was sitting next to tutu. At that point Brooke knew who they were from. “Oh,” She sighed. Quinn seemed to catch onto the downtrodden expression on his daughter’s face. And couldn’t help but feel more contempt for Jake Fitzgerald. It was clear he was the culprit. And given he was caught Red handed (pun intended) last night perusing older women, Quinn wasn’t too fond of Jake sending mixed signals to Brooke. While, he considered throwing the gifts out before Brooke had a chance to see them, he instead took them as an opportunity to manipulate the way Brooke saw Jake. One step at a time. And judging by her initial reaction, perhaps she wouldn’t need that much convincing. “I gotta be honest with you sweetheart,” Quinn began. He took a deep breath and chewed on a slice of pancake, “I think you can do a whole lot better than the Fitzgerald boy. I caught him poking his head around his father’s club last night. Myles asked me to keep an eye on the place while he’s out of the country with Vera in Mexico. Not only is that place not meant for a kid like that but he seemed a little too interested in it. Say, why don’t you come with me to the country club today? There’s tons of nice boys you can meet there. You can sit by the pool, get a tan, enjoy some refreshing lemonade.”
Brooke thought about it. And while a part of it sounded nice, Brooke couldn’t imagine anything worse than dating a country club boy. Especially one her father picked out. She preferred her boys with a little more edge. You know, the bad ones. The ones her father would strangle before he’d ever sit down and have lunch with them. Ones like Jake. Who unfortunately, Brooke wasn’t speaking to. “Sounds great. I’ll think about it,” Brooke responded with a faux smile. Quinn returned the smile before wiping his mouth off and kissing the side of her head again. He grabbed his golf gear and disappeared into the garage, leaving Brooke to clear off the table before she walked over to open the card. In the same messy handwriting the card was addressed in were the words; I’m sorry for tonight. -Wildcat. Despite still being pissed at him, Brooke couldn’t help but smile at the nickname. She hadn’t used it in quite some time. But, it was special between them and was always uttered endearingly.
Seeing it brought back memories. Good ones. Brooke missed when things were simple with Jake. Less complicated. More straight forward. He was out of line last night. And he didn’t deserve her forgiveness. Brooke wasn’t even sure he understood what he did wrong or why she was so angry she felt the need to leave him there in the first place. But then, she was no angel either. Jake had his faults. Yet, so did she. “Ugh,” she groaned to herself when she realized what needed to happen next. She wasn’t exactly thrilled about it but she knew it was inevitable either way.
After getting dressed, Brooke slipped out of the house and walked next door. She knocked several times and when there was no answer, she pulled out the red-square brick their spare key was hidden behind and let herself in. She could hear the faint sound of Jake’s record player scratching as she walked the distance to his room. His door was cracked and there he was; her beautifully problematic bad boy slash childhood best friend laying dead asleep with a swollen jaw. A product of his pummeling last night, that Brooke knew nothing about. “Great,” she breathed, not sounding the least bit surprised. Leave it to Jake to get into a fight. His face was precisely why Brooke shouldn’t and couldn’t leave him alone for longer than five minutes.
While Jake was still sound asleep, Brooke left to grab some ice for his face and once she pressed it to his warm skin, she watched him squirm. “Well, if you weren’t such an idiot all the time, this wouldn’t hurt,” Brooke explained as she met his gaze as soon as he opened his stupid, dreamy eyes. “Wanna tell me why your face looks like someone ran it over? Actually, I don’t care if you want to. You have to since you kinda owe me for being a total asshat last night. I got your note, by the way. And in case you’re wondering, yes, I’m still mad at you.”
The cold compress against the side of his face was an unwelcomed sensation that woke him up with a bitter grimace, “what the hell?” he wasn’t used to anyone else being home; let alone taking care of him. Most of his bruises and scrapes healed on their own, without any disinfected or ice. He’d take a shower and some ibuprofen and move on with it.
“…Brooke?” his voice was low and groggy as he rolled over and pulled himself up against the wall, allowing his eyes to adjust to the person before him. He was wearing his basketball shorts without a shirt and smelled of his father’s ‘tea time.’ Brooke’s insults rolled off him because she was here, and taking care of him. She wasn’t being malicious even though she had every right to be. He was about to ask if she got his flowers when she seemingly read his mind and answered before he could even ask. However, he knew Maddox’s don’t bury the hatchet just like that, and so he wasn’t expecting her mercy, just like he wasn’t expecting Quinn’s. This was another reason why Jake was such a dick. He didn’t want to keep getting hurt. He felt as if he’d done that all freshman year and then again all summer after sophomore. He had his faults but so did Brooke and sometimes he felt like he could do no right without her looking for the wrong.
With her question still lingering in the air, Jake folded his arms and let the air finally leave his chest, “some guy chased me down the block.” Of course that wasn’t the full story and Brooke knew it. Rolling his eyes, “okay, maybe I wrecked his mother’s garden…” not maybe, he did. Some days, like today, Jake wondered if Brooke only looked after him because it’s what Vera would want. With her in Mexico, all Jake has is Brooke. Which not a lot of people are aware of. They think because he’s a jock and popular and rich, that he has a lot of friends but Jake goes through friends like tic tacs. Will was his closest friend and even that bromance has been losing its flavor. There was no trust nor loyalty; two things Jake did not abide by. All he wanted was someone to stick by him through thick and thin. To see his demons and understand them for who they were. If someone were to give Jake the chance, he would prove to be a very loyal friend. Which was something he shared in common with his childhood best friend/crush. She may be an ankle biter most of the time but she could also be extremely caring and loyal. Which, her being here were signs of that.
“I think maybe you were right, about the whole Brooke and Jake thing not being right. Maybe, we’re not…” he stepped down from the bed and walked over to the window where he could see his truck parked in the shadow of a tree where they learned how to climb and swing from branches. There was a tire hanging from the thickest branch for years but Myles and Quinn broke it, horsing around one night after being away for several hours at the club. They were both totally wasted and Vera had to take care of the both of them. Meanwhile, Monica was out of town at some ‘art gallery’ which sounded a lot like ‘tea time’. When Monica got home, nobody was there. Brooke and Jake were innocently tucked away in the same bed and Myles and Quinn were on the couch while Vera fell asleep on the recliner. Monica didn’t know what to think, but they all seemed happy without her in the picture. Everyone always seemed to be having fun whenever she was gone. Then on the nights when she was home, everyone was always so secretive. Jake wondered as he stood lost in thought if he and Brooke were more like Myles and Vera or Quinn and Monica; or if they could ever just be Jake and Brooke.
“No.” he turned, shaking his head, as if losing those thoughts all together. He never doubted them before, and he wasn’t going to start now. He knew, even if she didn’t –that they belonged together. “You once told me, ‘just be real’,” With the sun beating behind him, highlighting the bruises on his skin and in his eyes, Jake stepped forward with a sigh. “You, be real. Last night I made some mistakes, but none of it was real, the only real moments were the ones with you. The stuff I said to Quinn wasn’t real… the flirting with the escort was because you said you wanted to see other people. You’re not real with me, so I have to do some shady stuff to bring out the truth. Whatever happened to less bitchy, more truthy? Or is Brooke 2.0 a failed experiment?”
