B. Davis

It had been Brooke's own fault for not really taking Claudia seriously longer than the time she'd been in the common room, but she was probably turning over a new leaf on that sort of thing. Almost getting eaten- or tasted or whatever- by an Amber-looking little girl vampire after leaving the bar would do that sort of thing to you.

It would also meant that you might do something like lock yourself in your room and curl up in the corner of your bed hugging a pillow and finally letting yourself unfreak out enough to cry some. Such as Brooke was doing.

[WOO. CRYING ICON. I'm so mean to her. Post is open, door, definitely not.]

Okay, the first sewing attempt hadn't gone well. It had gone pretty badly, actually. The SAT-word-prone would have probably called it dismal, but she'd managed a few good designs and that was a start, right? It just meant she was trying to see if she could maybe unstitch what she'd already stitched in hopes of saving the material. This was a lot easier when she could just blow money on anything, though if she had that problem, she wouldn't be doing this in the first place...

And she might have looked over at her phone a couple times in light of a certain voicemail. Shut up, she was thinking.


[Post is open, as is the door. Once a Tree Hill resident, always a walking invitation to come in and rob the place. And I never mixed up my doubles' rooms, really.]