PRETTY GORES

the windshield shimmered beneath the glow of streetlights and streaks of light rain as benny drove through the quiet night. he didn't bother to turn on the radio because he needed to think. each mile carried the weight of everything she said to him at the hospital. an honest part of him considered standing her up, fearing what she might say. she broke his heart once, could he really go through it again? he decided he had to at least hear her out because somewhere beyond the rain and the hurt was the possibility they could find their way back to each other.

for a second, brooke just stands there eying him down. it's kind of ridiculous how much she's missed him and it hasn't even been that long since they've broken up. she missed the way his voice always seemed to settle her nerves, the way he always looked at her like she was something worth keeping or holding onto. hell, even the way he somehow always managed to make her feel guilty and comforted at the same time.

starter for savannah: @prettygores

savannah pauses in the doorway when she spots him. for a second, she just stands there, one hand still wrapped around the strap of her bag. the library lights cast everything in a warm glow, but tyler somehow still looks like a storm cloud sitting in the middle of it. his boots are up on the desk, his green bomber jacket draped across his shoulders exactly as he'd promised. at least one of them is good at keeping promises. her gaze lingers on him a second too long before she forces herself to move. the floral dress she'd chosen suddenly feels ridiculous. too soft, too hopeful, too naive. "you noticed," she says quietly, as a small smile threatens to appear, but she doesn't fully let it. the last few weeks have taught her how to read him better than she'd like. the late-night texts, the sudden mood swings, the moments where he seems desperate to convince her everything will work out if she just keeps the baby. her stomach twists knowing she can't. "you okay?" her question comes out before she can stop it. and then, she's dropping into the chair across from him, folding her arms over her middle. "you seem a bit.... twitchy."

as soon as the word SLUT catches the air of the auditorium, benny looks toward the person. he wants to pull their tongue out of their mouth, but then the slur mutates, growing louder and multiplying. FLASH YOUR TITS, another shouts. for once, benny feels utterly useless. he could stop a goddamn tornado from killing her, but this? it's worse. there's no containing it. more camera flashes go off as everyone updates their feed with the hashtag, #ravenslut. the school's staff is involved now, going up into the bleachers to investigate why there's an uproar.

despite wishing it wouldn't, everything around her becomes more noise she can't escape—the shouting, the laughter, the notifications, the whispers. eventually, it all melts together into one horrible ringing sound in her head.

after only making it a step away, benny turns back around and stares at her like he doesn't know what to say. and its because for the first time in eight months, he doesn't. they built their entire relationship on having good banter and deep conversations that lasted until 3:00am. but all that is over now. she put a stop it to when she told him he made her feel trapped and that she'd been forcing herself to have feelings for him hoping it would stick. for what? his sake? thanks, but no thanks. he doesn't want to force her into a fake relationship. hell, he broke down and asked her if they could at least be friends and she didn't seem into that either. after everything they've been through how could she end things like that?

of course she wants to talk. even if she has no idea what they'd even talk about. tyler? the threats? how she didn't actually want to break up but, felt like she had no other choice? the longer she stayed in his orbit, the worse off he'd be. hell tonight... with this lockdown, that had only become further true. no matter how hard brooke tried to put a lid on her former demons, they kept crawling out of the woodwork, determined to ruin her and anyone else around her.

starter for brooke: @prettygores

naturally, brooke stiffens. not because she's scared or she doesn't recognize seth's voice behind her but because, her mind's still reeling after having had her nudes plastered all over the internet. all she can think about is how she'd wish the ground would open up and swallow her whole, just so she could escape the watchful, hungry eyes now staring her down, snapping pictures, whispering behind their phones as they click 'SHARE' with all their friends ".... i'm sorry, what?" the photos, if she bothered to look at them closely enough when confronted, she'd recognize were meant for him and his eyes only. she sent them to seth over a year ago, while they were still hooking up.

drunk, injured, and careless, benny isn't watching where he's stumbling around when he collides with brooke. it could have been anyone—he'd rather it have been anyone else—but the stupid universe had to make it her. the girl who broke his heart into a thousand little pieces that hasn't stopped cutting up his insides like tiny little daggers. it's a weird feeling, a heartbreaking feeling, really. seeing a face you recognize, but not the person behind it. she used to be someone who could make him light up with a simple glance, now all she does is make him want to drink himself to sleep. "yeah...i brought crutches, but they're awkward." he looks down at his feet and then glances around the room for sami. brooke used to be his rock. his safety. but now she's a burning reminder of how easily a heart can be broken. "i guess i'll see you around, brooke." it feels weird not calling her anything other than maddox or spirit, but it would feel even weirder if he kept the nicknames and pretended like they aren't strangers now.

his dismissal hits harder than she would've expected it to, even though it's understandable or would be if she were in her right mind. for a second, brooke just stands there, staring at him. sure, she wanted distance. she practically forced it on him the night they broke up but, seeing him so quick to walk away? it hurt. maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was just the fact that for the first time since rehab, brooke realized she had no one but... something in her chest stung. "so, that's it?" the words slip out before she can stop them, which causes brooke to cross her arms over her chest defensively, immediately regretting saying anything at all. "we run into each other for the first time in over a week and your grand plan is to just...." she gestures vaguely to their surroundings while mocking his words, "guess i'll see you around, brooke??" whatever happened to her nickname spirit or maddox? he never called her brooke. not since she's known him. which had been eight months to be exact.

there's something surprisingly healing about sami. he's not sure when that started, but it does scare him because it means his heart is getting ready to move on. and although that's healthy, it hurts him to know brooke is becoming a memory, no longer someone he sits with and talks to every day. "you know what's weird? i feel like i've known you for a long time, longer than a week. and i think it's because i don't have to hide anything from you. you see me..." the way i used to see brooke, he wants to say, but doesn't. sami notices the small things, pays attention to what bothers him, and then lets him talk about it. she never gets mad or upset or tired of hearing him go on and on about things that shouldn't matter. "and you never bash brooke. everyone else does. you see the romance in me holding onto her when i thought i was going to die....she, uhm. she didn't even care. i mean, if i would have bled out...what would it have changed for her? nothing. either way, she decided she didn't want to be in my life anymore. and i want to hate her for that, but i can't." after reaching for the bottle, he takes another long swig and hangs his head low. "i feel pathetic still caring about her. its more embarrassing than walking around with these stupid crutches." he drunkenly nudges them with his foot and they topple over onto the floor, making a loud crashing sound. the teachers who are roaming the gymnasium are definitely going to realize they're drunk, or at the very least that he is. because now he's laughing like he wasn't just about to have a mental breakdown. the only thing to sober him up is realizing she'd just scolded him for naming his dog willie. after the great willie mays. there's no better name for a man's best friend. "i named him after my favorite baseball player. here's a picture," he digs into his pocket and pulls out his wallet, trying to ignore the photobooth strip he still has of him and brooke in there. "there's mr. mays himself. what would you name him? and don't say something insulting like sparky or goldy."

the second benny says "you see me," something in sami's expression softens. not super obvious but, enough that he'd probably notice unless he wasn't looking for it. either way, it's there. for all the jokes and teasing and vodka hidden inside water bottles, she knows exactly what he means. everyone at riverwood sees a version of everybody else. the baseball star, the cheerleader, the mayor's daughter, the rich girl, the burnout, the bad influence, the future MLB draft pick. nobody really sees the person underneath unless they get lucky or they stay long enough. sami opens her mouth to say something when he starts talking about brooke again but then, she keeps quiet and just lets him get it out, lets him be sad and miss her if that's what he wants. because no matter how many times her friends insist that brooke maddox is complicated, sami's never actually heard benny say a cruel thing about her. even now, even after she supposedly broke his heart. eventually, and unintentionally, his crutches hit the floor with a loud CLANG. three sophomores jump, while a teacher looks over at them suspiciously. sami immediately slaps a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. although, it doesn't seem to work because a snort still escapes anyway. "oh my god," she bends forward. "you are soooo drunk right now and going to get us in trouble." another laugh escapes. "we are absolutely getting caught." by the time he starts digging through his wallet, sami's still grinning. though, when he produces the photo of his pup, sami takes it out carefully. her eyes instantly find the dog and she goes—"oh no...." she can't help it, her face melts. "shut up." she presses a hand dramatically to her chest. "i can't take it. he's so adorable actually." the picture gets held closer to her face. "look at him. that's not a dog. that's a distinguished gentleman." to prove her point, she gestures to the photo. "see those eyes? that's gotta be a tax-paying citizen right there." she laughs again, drunk. "okay, i guess willie is kind of perfect for him then. but, don't get used to hearing me say that." it takes her another minute, before she starts to squint at him suspiciously after lowering the photo. "wait.. you kinda look like..." she can't get it out before she glances at benny again then back at the dog. over and over.... "no, i'm actually being so serious right now," she insists before laughing again and holding the photo up to benny's face. "the eyes. his and yours. it's the same energy. it's like looking into a mirror!" she nearly topples over still giggling. "like if somebody told me willie grew up and learned how to play baseball, and started apologizing to medical equipment, i'd totally believe them." her grin widens as she's beside herself with glee now. "you both have that whole golden retriever thing down pat." while still smiling, sami bumps his shoulder lightly with hers. for a moment, everything feels so easy and lighthearted between them. there's no hospitals, no masks, no blood, no brooke. just two teenagers hiding contraband at a school lockdown while possessing the kind of normal neither of them have probably felt much lately.

tyler's so fed up with brooke's infatuation with benny. mostly because he can't tell whether or not it's real. if she truly cared for him, she wouldn't have dumped him just because he told her to. she could have pushed back and told benny what was going on. from what tyler can tell, the baseball player is protective over her. he would have convinced her they could get through a little hazing, but she didn't do that. a part of her must be relieved she doesn't have to entertain some lovesick ken barbie doll anymore. "that's not what i think." he laughs, crossing his arms over his chest in mirror of her. "i don't understand you. that's the exciting part. i never know what to expect. if you were too predictable, you'd be as boring as him, wouldn't you?" he licks his lips and steps closer. when their bodies touch, he looks down and places his hand above her hip. "i think you didn't want to keep cheating on him with me so you ended things so you could have what you were missing. guilt-free. am i getting warmer?" giving her hip a little squeeze, he slides his fingers down and tucks his hand between her legs.

for a moment, brooke doesn't move. she just lets him talk. lets him mull over every theory he thinks is correct. "is that your big revelation?" brooke sasses. "you know, for somebody who claims i surprise him, you sure spend a lot of time trying to squeeze me into boxes." she takes another step forward, just as her eyes flick to the bag in his hand again before returning to his face. "that's not why i broke up with him." still, her body tenses whenever he touches it. it's practically it's own reflex at this point. she tells herself, it's because she can't help it. because, she hasn't had sex in eight months. but, there's a lot more to it than that. a pull she'll deny exists purely because it's no good for her. "that's not why we broke up. the truth is a lot less interesting than whatever story you've made up." brooke folds her arms tighter across her chest, "life got messy. things happened. and unlike you, some of us don't treat every relationship we have like it's a game we're trying to win." whether or not he believes that, her and benny were real. brooke's gaze then drops to the bag again. she knows exactly what he's doing with it and with all the touching. he's making her work for it, encouraging her to stay and, to engage with him. the worst part is? she's doing just that. "you want honesty? the truth? fine." brooke exhales slowly. "part of me is relieved." the admission surprises even her. "not because i stopped caring about him. but because caring about him got hard. he deserves somebody who isn't constantly dragging chaos into his life." for a second, she looks away, catches herself being too candid and straightens. "but that's not really your business, is it." before tyler can respond, brooke reaches out and snatches the bag from his fingers. the movement is intended to catch him off guard, "thanks." she immediately slips a wet finger inside and takes a bump. the relief that follows is instant and a little embarrassing. tyler probably notices but, she doesn't care. "don't look so proud of yourself. you didn't prove anything. all you proved is that you know exactly how to exploit people when they're already struggling." she shrugs. "for the record, benny's not boring. he was probably the first person who's ever made me feel safe." the room goes quiet after that, as outside voices and laughter echo throughout the weight room. "that's something you'll never be able to understand because all you care about is sex, not connection." that's when brooke finally takes a step back, breaking their physical contact.

benny's deep voice is full of smooth laughter and impossibly charming smiles that never fail to reach his blue eyes. sami is a lot funnier than most people know. he assumes that much given the fact that she's not surrounded by people the way other popular girls are. aside from being a cheerleader, he wonders why she doesn't belong to a bigger friend-group like nina's. from what he can tell, the redhead runs the school with brooke as her righthand, and tyler as her vicious muscle. everyone seems to be afraid of him, but benny's not. he grew up with an alcoholic father who'd come home drunk and start a fight with his wife over how unsatisfied he was with their lives. when benny got old enough, he stopped listening in from the stairs and started getting in between his dad and mom, keeping him from yelling at her or grabbing her. nothing scares him anymore...well, he thought nothing. but losing brooke made him rethink his resilience on more than one occasion. while thinking of brooke, benny feels something uneasy in his stomach the second sami crosses her arms. in this instance, she looks just like her. sounds like her too, and it makes him down another swig of liquor. man, she really fucked him up, didn't she? "i'm not trying to be a tough guy, sami. i'm just being moody. sorry." he leans into his crutches, allowing them to take some of the weight off his feet. "alcohol affects me in two different ways and i never know which one to expect. there's the party boy benny who loves jumping on tables and making a fool of himself. and then there's...broody, sad for himself benny who gets lost in the past. the school thinks i'm supposed to be this bigshot baseball player, but what if i can't play the same way? i've been too afraid to try. i haven't even picked up a ball to play catch with willie...my dog, not belmont."

for once, sami doesn't automatically make a joke like she normally would. instead, she watches him take another drink instead. the smile he gives her is still there but, she can tell its doing most of the heavy lifting for him. there's something kind of sad sitting underneath it, something that's been there ever since she met him in the hospital. and ever since, he first mentioned brooke. "hey," her voice softens. without really thinking about it, she reaches over and nudges his arm with the side of her hand. not in a way that makes a big deal of it but, just pulls him out of his head. "you're allowed to be moody, you know." there's a small shrug, "you've been through a lot. which, is usually a valid enough excuse." just then, sami leans back against one of the auditorium seats, encouraging him to follow suit and give his crutches a break. that's when the bottle rests loosely in her lap. "and if it makes you feel any better, nobody here actually expects you to be some baseball hero. except, maybe the coaches or the team." there's a brief pause, "and okay probably half the town. or the local newspaper." she's back to teasing him again, which earns him an easy grin from her. "normal people don't though. the cool ones." like her. "personally, i think it's okay if you're scared." it's what makes him human. not the sadness or the grief but, the fear. the fear that he'll never be the same, that everyone expects him to bounce back immediately, even though maybe he won't. "i don't think the baseball stuff is why people actually like you anyway." based on his expression, she presumes he doesn't believe her when she says that, which makes her roll her eyes. another classic brooke mannerism. "oh my god, don't give me that look. i know you're tall, athletic and that's all very impressive. congratulations on being genetically gifted." she smiles, "but that's not what people remember." at least it's not what, she does. "when i found you at the carnival, you were bleeding all over the pavement and still more worried about some girl than yourself. that's what i remember." which is not a bad memory to have, believe it or not. "and in the hospital, every nurse on that floor liked you. you thanked people when you were barely conscious. you apologized every time someone adjusted your IV like you were inconveniencing them." a laugh escapes her at the thought. "you literally apologized to a machine once just because you accidentally bumped into it." she takes another sip of the vodka. "honestly it's ridiculous but also kind of endearing." her smile lingers, and it's warm and affectionate. "my point is..." she takes a moment to nudge his crutch with her sneaker, "if baseball disappeared tomorrow, you'd still be you. you'd still be benny. and maybe that's enough. at least it will be to those who matter." her words hang between them for a second, long enough for the bottle in her hands to suddenly become very interesting. "also..." her former grin returns, "willie sounds like a terrible name for a dog. what did he ever do to you?"

although it's meant to be sweet or playful, benny flinches when sami calls him MLB. it's a reminder of brooke and how she would tease him with a multitude of nicknames. lips. baseball boy. giant. then he'd respond with monikers that were equally flirty. spirit. maddox. dodger. he misses her voice and giggle so much it's enough to make his stomach hurt. "i don't know how you snuck in all this contraband, but i salute you." it's toxic, but once again, he's thinking of brooke, and how they snuck out of rehab to go drinking at a club. her not wanting to be friends with him anymore doesn't make sense. no one's ever thought of him as too safe. if he was boring, he wouldn't have been in rehab with her. "well, here goes seven months of sobriety. and that's not an invitation to stop me." before she can second guess their plan to break bad, he takes a long swill of the alcohol. it's strong, and bitter enough to make him wince, but oh so good. the effect is almost immediate. adjusting his crutch, he hands the bottle back and licks the remaining liquor from his lips. "i thought i would feel different. like i'd be disappointed in myself for drinking, but i'm not. it's, even, like heightened with my pain meds. wanna try some?"

the second the words 'seven months of sobriety' leave his mouth, some of the amusement drains from her face. "okay, first of all—" she points at him accusingly, "that's a terrible sales pitch." yet she's smiling as she says it, which means she isn't taking him all that seriously even though she probably should. mostly because he'd already taken a drink before she could stop him. sami eventually takes the bottle back, twisting it in her hands as she studies him closely—the pale skin that's finally starting to regain some color, the dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, the way he still leans slightly on his crutches while pretending not to need them because they make him appear weak. there's a moment where she almos wonders if encouraging him is a bad idea. then she remembers they're trapped in a school overnight while their teachers pretend they aren't sneaking in contraband in through their clothes. it's all about perspective. "just don't blame me when your sponsor comes after us." she lifts the bottle in her hands to take a small sip herself. then another. "shit, that's actually really good." before she hands it back over. "by the way, pain meds and alcohol?" sami raises a brow, "that's not concerning at all." though— "if you suddenly start speaking fluent french or start seeing dinosaurs, i'm leaving you here." she's teasing him, of course. she doesn't actually know if hallucinations are a product of the two substances interacting. and besides, she couldn't leave him. not after things have become so normal between them over the last week. from hospital rooms to late-night texts to hours spent talking about everything and absolutely nothing. she doesn't know exactly when he stopped feeling like just a baseball player she found bleeding out at the carnival to benny. someone she genuinely liked. probably more than she should, given he was hung up on someone else. which is why she quickly changes the subject. "so," her eyes narrow, "be honest." she folds her arms across her chest, in a way that she doesn't realize mirrors brooke. "how much of that dramatic tough-guy act of yours is real?" a grin tugs at her lips. "because when i found you, you looked like you were about thirty seconds away from haunting the carnival as a ghost. and now you've got spunk. though, for what it's worth..." her gaze drifts toward the auditorium where students are laughing, playing games, and running around without a care in the world. "i'm glad you're here. not just at the lockdown but, you know... alive." realizing how serious that sounded, sami immediately reaches for the bottle again. "anyway," she clears her throat. "give me that before you decide you're invincible and try racing people on crutches. which, judging by your face, you've probably already considered."

tyler respects the distance she puts between them; the idea of her not trusting herself enough to be close to him, makes him smirk. however, her entitled attitude earns her one of his signature eye rolls. "i know why you came here, brooke. you want drugs and i made certain no one would sell to you but me." he takes a step closer, slowly, like he's carefully measuring each movement he makes. "i did you a favor and you know it. benny was just someone to waste time with. things were getting complicated, it was best to cut the leash." slipping a hand into his pocket, he closes his fingers around a sealed bag that should only last her a few days, then shakes it in front of her face like he's waving a white flag. "this one is on the house, the only catch is you have to do it in here. i want to talk. take it or leave it."

for a second, brooke just stares at him. then, she laughs. not because anything he said was funny but, because of the audacity he always comes prepared with. brooke shakes her head slowly, lowering her eyes to the bag in his hand before lifting back to his face. she hates herself for how bad she wants it. how quickly her brain registers relief at the possiblity of escaping herself for a few hours. though, what she hates more, is the fact that tyler knows that about her. he always has. "you cornered me." she pushes away from the treadmill following the accusation and takes a few steps closer, toward the drugs more so than him. "benny wasn't just something to 'waste time with'. her gaze locks on his so he understands that. "you can't reduce people to whatever makes the most sense for you to understand." even if, she knows that concept's lost on him. flicking her eyes back to the bag again, brooke has to remind herself to play nice or he won't give her what she wants. "what exactly are we talking about? because you know, every time you say that, it somehow always turns into what you have decided is best for me." as if he knows that, when he doesn't. brooke chances another step closer. close enough that she could reach out and take the bag if she wanted to. she doesn't, of course. not yet. instead, she folds her arms again, a defensive habit. "let me guess," a humorless laugh graces her lips. "you're going to tell me all about how benny was holding me back. how my life is more exciting without him in it. and that you," she says as she jabs a finger into his chest, "understand me better than anybody else. right?" she tilts her head, confident in what she suspects. "well go ahead. let's hear it, what is it you have to say?"

instead of getting offended by brooke's accusation of him of collecting cheerleaders, he just smiles and laughs—even when the pain feels worse because of it. he'll have to ask the nurses for more medicine whenever they come back in to check on him. the iv attached to his arm isn't enough now that he's moving around more frequently. he does his best to sit up, while keeping a reassuring smile to let brooke know he's okay. in fact, he's better than okay. the only person he wanted to see was her. that's why he was reaching for his phone; not read what everyone's saying on social media...but to talk to brooke, the only person he wants to talk to whenever something good or bad happens. whenever anything happens, really. since rehab, she's become his rock.

the second his fingers close around hers, brooke's resolve almost breaks. this is exactly why she shouldn't have, and she didn't want to come. every horrible thing that's ever happened to him, was all because of her. and going through with this, would be a hell of a lot easier if benny were an asshole. yet instead of being angry or selfish, or a dick, he looked at her like she hung the moon outside his window every night. he smiled at her despite his injuries and his exhaustion. he could barely sit upright and yet he was still worried about her, as if she were the one who had gotten stabbed over him.

starter for sami: @prettygores

sami is halfway through laughing at something one of her cheermates has said when she spots benny approaching her across the auditorium. she immediately grins after noticing him, "well, look who finally decided to show up." she pushes herself off the stage, only to adjust the hem of her cheer uniform once she does before making her way towards him. despite the teasing in her tone, her eyes automatically drop to his crutches. as if to make sure he's still okay, or as okay as someone could be after getting stabbed multiple times in the stomach. "you're late, MLB." her gaze flicks back up to his face. "which is impressive considering you move at the speed of a ninety year old man now." the smile she gives him is meant to soften the insult. sami has gotten noticeably more comfortable around him over the past few days. hospital visits turned to texts, while texts turned to conversations that somehow lasted well until two in the morning. now talking to him just felt easy and natural. "also yes, i did," she carries on dramatically, with a hand drawn over her chest. "i am a woman of my word." glancing around to make sure none of the teachers were watching, she reaches beneath one of the auditorium chairs to pull out a sports bottle filled with vodka and something else. "courtesy of senior ingenuity. or as the administration would call it... an expellable offense." the bottle sloshes suspiciously in its metal container before being handed over to him. inside, is definitely not water. "don't look at me like that. i didn't make them." there's a pause, before she adds, "okay, maybe i helped." but more truthfully... "fine. they were my idea. but, i promise you'll love them. try a sip. then tell me what you think."