POPULAR - Just a Little Insight

PART ELEVEN - Where Did I go Wrong, I Lost a Friend

Brooke wrote in her diary as her temporary lover slept through the night.

Despite her exhaustion, Brooke found she could not sleep, and instead moved to her desk, using what little moonlight there was to scrawl delicately and quietly on the small notebook she still kept. In between thoughts, she lingered on the figure that was turned away from her, and resented Sam her ability to sleep.

Maybe it was the dying romantic in her, but Brooke realized that part of the reason she could not was the fact that she didn’t want to sleep with Sam if she couldn't wake up with her.

Finishing her entry, Brooke flipped idly through the pages, from the beginning to the sophomore year to the six month gap that happened at the end of junior year. She took back up the journal writing at the beginning of senior year, and there, she noticed, came a marked change. The entries were shorter, to the point. No longer was there any discussion of her feelings. Where before she rambled on for pages of her troubled emotions for Harrison and Josh, what existed after the coma was almost an outline, a point by point report of her day and her subsequent reactions to that.

Frowning, Brooke brushed her bangs from her face and peered closer at the entries, flipping through the pages until she could determine just how many blank pages were left in this particular notebook.

She was nearing the end, and the awkward scribblings were shorter, more pointed, as if even unconsciously, she realized it.

Closing the book, Brooke found herself suddenly trembling, as she exhaled loudly and lowered her head, suddenly on the verge of tears.

"What are you doing?"

The soft, sleepy voice cut through her quiet devastation, and her head rose, fell upon a beautiful girl in a large bed, slender fingers keeping strands of tousled hair out of her face, as curious, inquisitive eyes stared at her.

Arms around her knees, Brooke gnawed at her raw lip, eyes on Sam.

"Why am I so afraid to feel?"

Sam's brown eyes burned into her own. In the silence, Sam only had the moonlight, the shadows playing across Brooke's face, and the shallow breathing to try and determine what it was Brooke was really asking.

Pushing up, Sam gave an audible sigh, holding the sheet against her torso.

"I don't know," Sam admitted, quiet. "Maybe because you've been hurt so much. Maybe because you spent your whole life trying to be someone else you're afraid no one will love you for who you really are. Or maybe you're just scared."

"So that makes me a coward?" Brooke sniffled, wiping at the moisture in her eyes.

"No, it makes you human," Sam corrected softly. "And that's okay, Brooke."

The pressure building in her chest was almost unbearable, and she shut her eyes, tried to relieve it with another soft whimper.

"Come on," she heard, and felt the bed sheets rustle. "It's okay."

It wasn't, but Brooke wanted to desperately to believe the lie that she numbly came forward, until she slid into the outstretched arms, and felt the fabric of her blankets close around her, her step-sister cocooning her into a warm, soft embrace.

"I thought you were sleeping," she muttered, as Sam snuggled closer into her, thigh sliding between Brooke's, breath tickling the side of her ear.

Sam was quiet, until she shifted and she heard, "I wanted to watch you. I didn't want to forget."

Brooke McQueen knew better than to think she was imagining the stares when she grabbed hold of her bags and lugged them up the driveway and into the sprawling Victorian house that housed her sorority.

Sets of blue eyes and brown lingered on her, and her housemates all collectively stopped whatever it was they were in the middle of doing and stared, as she moved through the hallway.

"Hi," she said, in an impatient tone, when Hazel, their ever chaste Christian sister, stood at the foot of the stairs, looking at her as if she had grown a second head. "Hazel, would you mind?"

"I do mind," Hazel began, arms crossing. "I've heard some really bad things about you, Brooke, and I just want you to know, that we won't stand for it."

"Oh, Good God." Tromping down the hallway, Becky, a skater girl with a cute short cut, leaned against the hallway door. "Like anyone cares."

"I care!" Hazel squeaked. "What if she starts hitting on me?!"

"You can't even get the SC waterboy to hit on you," Becky responded dryly.

A small smirk floated on Brooke's face. Turning toward her judging sister, she arched a playful eyebrow. "Trust me, Hazel. You're not my type."

The snicker behind Hazel was almost comforting, when Maria shoved past the other girl and grabbed hold of Brooke's bags. "Okay, enough, leave her alone. Brookie, we have a lot to talk about."

Relieved to be out of the suddenly gay limelight, Brooke gave her friend a small grin and tossed Hazel a cool look. "Excuse me."

Huffing slightly, Maria dragged her luggage, thumping the designer bags against the stairs and glancing back at her quizzically.

"So… you've had quite a week."

"I'm sure you did too," Brooke responded. "How was Cabo?"

"Oh, crazy!," Maria said, bumping her hip against their door and nearly falling inside. "We went snorkeling, right? On this fake pirate ship? And the Mexican boys there were totally trying to hit on us, and since I was the only one who spoke Spanish-"

"Uhuh-"

"Well, let's just say I had an extra bead on what they really thought of us," Maria finished, dropping Brooke's bag on the floor and flouncing back to her bed. "I did meet this skuba instructor guy, though. He was cute. I almost got some until I got a panicked phone call from Jenny freaking out about Lil' Bleu."

The name of her little fish brought a sudden rush of pain, and Brooke's mouth twitched. With a ragged sigh, she glanced at the empty space beside her dresser.

"I'm really sorry, Brooke," Maria said gravely, and blinked, her face flushing suddenly. "I actually cried when I found out. "

Brooke glanced away, and began to zip open her bag, suddenly wanting desperately to look busy. "Yeah, me too."

"Where's the other guy?"

"Oh, you mean Lil' Blue Too?" Brooke responded, and Maria rolled her eyes upward, commiserating with her at the complete idiocy of that plan. "He's home, I let my step-mom keep him for Mac. It's a lot of work to bring him back and forth."

"Sure," Maria noted, and then suddenly squeaked, "You're gay now?!" Blinking, Brooke glanced back. "Oh, like you're surprised?!" Maria retorted, bouncing on her bed in enthusiasm. "You know Stephanie can't keep a secret to save her life."

Groaning, Brooke sank down on her bed, head in her hands.

"Oh, please! Please! You have to spill what happened. What girl rocked your world so hard she ruined all men forever! It was me, right?"

Brooke's head came up immediately. "What?"

"I KNEW you were checking me out!" Maria looked particularly gleeful, and struck a seductive pose. "It's all the walking around naked that did it, right? Did I turn you gay?"

"No," Brooke said, incredulous. "You didn't turn me gay."

"But I’m a tease, right? I'm a total tease?"

"Do you WANT to be a tease?"

"Oh, come on, Brookie!" Maria stood up, and with outstretched arms, proceeded to give a twirl.

"You're insane."

"But I'm a hot insane tease, right?"

"Oh my GOD!" Brooke snorted, trying to control her laughter. "Yes, okay? It was you! You ruined men forever for me with your hot smokin' bod!"

"Oh, God, is Maria hitting on you already?" Stephanie's brow arched, entering the room and shutting the door behind her.

"Why wouldn't she?" Brooke said without thinking. "I'm hot."

"She's a hot tease," Maria offered, and then burst into laughter.

It was a release, from the pent up emotion that had buried in her the second she had woken up alone in her room that morning, and when the tears came, she welcomed them, nearly hysterical as Maria fell back on her bed hyperventilating, and Stephanie stared at them both as if they had chosen to wear Payless Shoes.

"You are both so weird!"

"Oh, you're just jealous that you didn't turn Brooke gay."

"Are you okay?" Stephanie asked her.

Leaning against the hard bark of on the trees in the sprawling quad beside the Communications building, Brooke glanced up, distracted by the sounds of her IPOD and the book in her lap.

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't seemed yourself." Her friend was a shallow, but sincere, and when Stephanie bit her lip in an uncharacteristic frown, Brooke knew she was actually serious. "Is it Hazel and the other girls?"

With a ragged sigh, Brooke's hands fell to her sides, head falling back to rest against the broad trunk. "No," she admitted. "I knew they would react that way. Honestly, as a whole, it's better than I expected."

"Well, thanks for giving us so much credit," Stephanie mumbled, rolling her eyes before she turned on the grass, trying to get as much of the sun as possible.

"You know what I mean."

"I honestly think the Greek system doesn't get enough kudos for what it is."

"Well, for what it's worth, you've been great."

"But not great enough?" Stephanie's tone was curious, almost offended. "What's up, Brooke? You have this look in your eyes, when you think no one's looking."

Biting her lip, Brooke swallowed, glanced away. "It's nothing."

"It's Abby, right?"

Surprised at the mention of her new friend, Brooke sat up straighter. "Abby? No, I just... Nothing's really wrong, I just... I miss someone."

"So, not Abby..." Stephanie frowned. "You know, I don't like prying, Brooke. We're your sorority sisters, and I like to think it's more than just having keggers and philanthropies. You can tell me what's bothering you. Anything to get that kicked puppy look off your face."

Brooke didn't have much a defense to that description. The two weeks since she had left Sam behind had gone by quickly, but she had been haunted by the shakiness of what they had shared.

The distance between them was killing Brooke, and too afraid to the break the shreds of trust that existed between them, she was left helpless; unsure how to even attempt to fix ... whatever it was they had.

"It's complicated," was all she allowed, when Stephanie glanced at her expectantly. "What?" she said again, unreasonably annoyed at Stephanie's exasperated look. "I'm allowed to keep things to myself, Stephanie, okay?"

"Oh, God, you're such a martyr, you know that?" Sitting up, Stephanie gathered her books, rising up. "Didn't you say you came out because you wanted to stop putting on a mask?" Pushing long blonde bangs out of her face, Stephanie gave her a pointed look. "I gotta get to class."

As her friend tromped off, a little heavy-footed in her emotion, Brooke stayed put, lost in the sun and the grass and the people moving around her.

Across the quad, there was a girl with dark black hair, sitting on a bench, looking right at her.

Feeling uneasily naked, Brooke gathered her books and got to her feet.

Old habits were hard to break, Brooke understand that.

She told herself she came out because she wanted to stop being afraid, but it was fear that paralyzed her now. It kept her from emailing Sam, it kept her from signing onto her AIM, it kept her from living...

Sam was at Northwestern, and that was all Brooke knew. There had been no more talk of Rebecca, or Abby or what would happen when they had separated, and because there was no understanding, Brooke felt oddly like a gutted fish, flopping and gasping for air.

That feeling came with a tightness in her chest, a pressure, and Brooke knew Stephanie was right, when she said it was affecting her physically.

Lovesick, said her professor one day during class, in a large hall with three hundred other classmates. Brooke wrote it down, and found herself staring at her own handwriting, as if she could make sense of her emotion simply by understanding the word.

She was lovesick, and she was afraid.

Brooke wasn't sure what the rules were, but she was pretty sure she was breaking them when she decided to call Sam, late that night, alone in her room while Maria was at yet another mixer. Because she was a coward, she waited until it was late, until she was sure Sam would be asleep.

Even though Sam's cell phone was saved in her address book, Brooke dialed the numbers, one by one, until the 9 digits were recognized and Sam's name appeared in the 'dialing' window. She heard the chirp of the phone ringing, and with each sound the tightness in her chest just increased, making her light headed.

She closed her eyes as she waited, and then the phone clicked.

"Hi, it's Sam." Her heart jumped in her throat, making her suddenly speechless. "I'm not available, so leave a detailed message, and I'll get back to you."

The voicemail. She barely had time to register both her disappointment and relief before the telltale beep came on, fading into silence.

"Hi," she managed finally. "It's me. Brooke." Shuddering, Brooke closed her eyes, horrified at her own ineptness. "I just... I don't know why I'm calling, but... I miss you. I do, Sammy. I miss looking at you, and talking to you, and God... I don't know..." Fingers rising to the bridge of her nose, she tried to control herself, understand what it was she wanted to say. "I can't help feeling that whatever happened, whatever is left behind... somewhere in the middle of all this I lost my best friend. And I just feel so stupid because I'm the one that threw you away first. I did, because I was scared and I was hurting, and it's not an excuse but it's what happened." Her eyes opened, and looked at the ceiling. "Tell me how to fight for you, Sammy. And I'll do it. I'll do whatever you want me to."

A half second pause, and then came the beep, cutting her off for good.

Smiling bitter, Brooke turned on the bed, and curled into herself, momentarily overtaken.

It was almost silly, to be optimistic as she was. What had followed the heartbroken message of needy desperation was a decision, and Brooke had decided that she needed to stop being afraid.

Something had needed to be done, and Brooke had done it. Maybe it would have been better if there had been an actual conversation, but Brooke had been honest, and open, and it felt... it felt almost satisfying.

"You coming to class, Brookie?" Slinging her bag over her head, Maria looked at her expectantly, unusually bright-eyed considering the way she had teetered into the room the night before.

"What are you on?" Brooke asked, pulling on her shirt. "Really?"

"Duh. Rockstar," Maria said, grabbing hold of the big can and shaking it at her. "One of these puppies and who needs sleep?"

"I do."

"LAME!" Rolling her eyes, Maria gave her a thumbs up. "I'm gonna make a bagel. You want?"

"Thanks, but I'm not really hungry." Settling into her chair, Brooke shot her a distracted smile. "I'm gonna check my email. I'll be down in a minute."

"Lame and nerdy," Maria amended, heading for the door. "You're lucky you're hot."

Waving distractedly, Brooke typed in the email account and opened the webpage.

There were two emails the following morning: one from Abby, and one from Harrison.

None from Sam.

Brooke told herself she should have expected it. Sam was probably busy and the message Brooke had left her...

Maybe she hadn't had time to hear it. That had to be it, because while Brooke and Sam could both be self admitted assholes, Sam had told her she loved her... and that counted for something, didn't it?

Sucking in a lungful of air, Brooke tried hard to push down on her burgeoning hope, and clicked quickly on the emails, intent to read them and get them out of the way before class began.

From: HunkyNerd@gmail.com

To: Bmcqueen@usc.edu

Subject: Hey Stranger.

Didn't think I'd actually be emailing you, huh? Give me a buzz, Brooke. Let's hang out. I figured out over the lunch we had the other day, there's no point in being an asshole to the prettiest girl in high school, gay as she may be.

How're things with Sammy? Haven't heard from her in a while.

Harrison.

The last sentence caused a bittersweet pang, but Harrison was still the sweet, sarcastic little unknowing hearthrob he had always been.

She would respond when she had time, she decided. Invite him up for the weekend. San Diego State wasn't far away, and truthfully, she had missed his friendship.

From: Alover@yahoo.com

To: Bmcqueen@usc.edu

Subject: Go Trojans!!

Okay, not really, but I really hate subject lines, and I didn't really know what else to put.

Anyway, I'm really glad for you, Brooke. To be honest, I'm actually kinda jealous. I didn't think parents like yours actually existed. If Jeapordy had an answer like, "Things That Are Wrong With Abby", my dad would get each and every one AND the bonus round.

I guess things didn't go too well with Sam, right? I mean, I'm not going to pry or anything, but with Sam and Rebecca getting back together, I kinda figured not.

Anyway, I guess I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. Give me a call if you can, I'd like to see how you're doing.

Abby

The words were there, printed in black and white.

Brooke didn't want to believe them.

They hit something inside of her, harder than she had ever been hit before, and for the moment, she was literally left breathless.

"Brooke? Are you coming or what? Brooke?"

Wordlessly, Brooke stared up at her roommate, paralyzed.

"Brooke?" Maria repeated. "You okay? Come on, we gotta go."

Because she had no idea what else to do, Brooke got up, and closed the laptop, grabbing her books.

She got a phone call, in the middle of the day, in the middle of the same quad.

The caller ID said 'Sam'.

She stared at the phone, somehow unsure if it was real, and then she closed her eyes and braced herself.

"Hey, Sam," she began, and her voice sounded thick and full of emotion. She winced at the sound of it.

"Brooke," said her lover, and she shuddered, because she didn't sound happy or hopeful. "I got your message."

"Okay," she responded, and she swallowed. "I umm... I meant it, Sam."

"God... Brooke..."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don’t know." Sam's voice was soft, like she was trying to keep her voice down. "I don't know what we can do."

"We can try, Sam," Brooke said. "Don't you think it's worth trying?"

"Trying what? A barrage of phone calls and emails? Sneaking around behind Mom and Mike's back on vacations home? We made our choices, Brooke. You made yours when you shut me out, and I made mine when I decided to move on."

It was so... final. Brooke sucked in her breath, and blinked away from her tears. "No, Sam, listen, okay? I'm not saying it would easy, but what has been about us? Isn't it worth it to try? At least say that we cared enough to give it shot, and if we fail... okay... but..."

"Brooke, we already FAILED. Every time. We've had chance after chance to get it right and it just-"

"No, we haven't. You know that." Heart racing, Brooke didn't care about the people walking by her. She gripped her phone and buried her fingers in her hair. "I love you, Sam." There was a heavy sigh in return. "No, listen to me - we're young and stupid and yes, you make me feel things and you make me react and sometimes I don't know how to handle that. But I'm learning, and I can do it right this time. I know I can."

"Well, maybe I can't."

"You can't or you don't want to?"

Again, there it was, that heavy, exasperated sigh. "Look... Brooke. I don't know if we can even be friends, right now, let alone... what you want. I don't like who I become when I love you. I get mean and selfish and..."

God.

Her heart ached, and her blood raced, and she had the world beating down on her, and Brooke held onto her phone so tightly she heard the plastic creak a little.

"Maybe we can... we can still... email or something-"

"No," she interrupted, wiping at her tears. "No, we can't."

"Brooke."

"No, Sammy! I can't just pretend that this conversation didn't happen! If you want move on, then fine. But you have to let me do it too."

"So, what? It's all or nothing with you? Are you that selfish, Brooke?"

"What do you want from me, Sam? I mean, honestly, what do you want?"

The long silence was answer enough.

The world tilted, stopped, and in that second, Brooke felt it start to move again.

"Okay," she answered herself. "Okay. I’m going to respect that you don't want me. In return, I ask for the space to move on from you. I already lost you, Sam. You've confirmed that. You have to let me deal with that."

"Brooke..."

"What else can you say, Sam? Look, you may not like who you become when you're with me, but to be honest? You made me a better person. You made me look at myself and realize that there were parts of me that I hated so much I tried to starve them away. If I hadn't met you, I would pretended forever, and I would have never lived. Just know that. You saved my life, Sammy."

She clicked off the phone, numb inside, but somehow, precariously, intact.

"I'm okay," she told herself, lifting her tear streaked eyes to the sun. "I'm okay."

"So this is the inside of a sorority, huh?" Harrison looked lanky and boy-like, and Brooke smiled at the familiarity of him, as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. "I always wondered what the inside of one of these looked like."

"They're highly overrated," Brooke responded. "I can't even get Maria to vacuum on a daily basis."

Harrison's expression was highly skeptical. "With that body, she doesn’t need to vacuum, unless she's doing it naked."

"Oh, believe me, that wouldn't be hard. She loves being naked."

Like a true boy, Harrison's interest was immediately piqued. "And you've never set us up, because?"

"Because you're much too good for her," Brooke answered flatly. "She cheats like crazy."

"I think you're overestimating me." Flopping down beside her, Harrison shoved at her firmly, causing her to shimmy over. "I'm perfectly willing to be cheated on."

"No, you deserve better," Brooke said firmly, moving on her side, to look down at the pretty boy with the sparkling brown eyes and too big ears. "And you and I both know it."

Staring up at her, Harrison didn't respond. Instead, he simply looked, the searching expression in his gaze disquieting her. "What?"

"You're still the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen."

The compliment was unexpected, and she flushed, glancing away from the intense stare. "Harrison," she managed, an awkward laughing coming from her.

"Sorry," he answered, and he at least had the decency to look embarrassed. "It's true, Brooke."

"Well, thanks, but..." Pushing out a frustrated breath, Brooke fell onto her back, until they were shoulder to shoulder on the teeny bed. "I don't really feel that way." He stayed quiet, and she bit her lip. "Have you ever felt ugly on the inside, Harrison? That's how I used to feel. Ugly on the inside, like there was nothing inside of me worth anything. So I starved myself to make myself look beautiful and for what? I was always alone. Always afraid. I was sick, Harrison, all because all I was this ugly person that everyone said was beautiful."

"You're not that person, Brooke." Harrison's tone was sweet, sincere, and she smiled bitterly at his soft tone. "Look, we all make mistakes. We're all capable of being ugly people. That's called being imperfect. And those imperfections make us beautiful."

"Look at you, Mr. Psych 101." It was light, but there was too much depth in Harrison's words to even try to take them seriously. She couldn't deal with sincere emotion. Not now.

"Communication, actually." Turning, Harrison eyed her, and she found they were in an almost exact mimic of the position they were in before she had taken his virginity. "I talked to Sam."

The name caused a rupture in her heart, and she sighed raggedly, trying to contain it. "Harrison, I don't want to-"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry!" she snapped. "Just... don't. Don't feel sorry for me."

He tried to touch her. She shrugged him off.

"If it helps," he said, in the silence that followed. "I know what it's like to think you're going to end up with her. To think that it's meant to be."

"Stop," she managed, eyes closing. "Please, don't..."

"You move on, Brooke."

"I don't want to!" Her eyes opened, liquid pools of fevered emotions. "I don't want to move on when we haven't had a chance, Harrison! It can't be over just like that."

"But it is, Brooke. And you have to accept it."

"WHY? Why should I?"

"Because you can't force things."

It was the truth, and she didn't want to hear it. But Harrison was staring at her with those big brown eyes, and he looked so sad, and she didn't want to be him.

"God... DAMMIT." The outburst was full of anger, and then defeat, when Harrison reached out, and she couldn't help but curl into him, and let him hold her.

END CHAPTER ELEVEN

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