𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘||𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐆𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐘

𝟕. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

✧

THE MORNING AFTER HOMECOMING came around like a headache and not the kind you get after having a good night. While most of the other Rosewood High school students were waking up in their beds after a long night of dancing, still plastered in makeup, feet sore from their heels and some of the more rebellious ones with their heads in toilet bowls after spiking the punch, now trying to cure their hangover headaches with aspirin, Brooke Bentley was woken in the early hours of the morning by a call from Hanna Marin.

She yanked herself out of bed still half asleep and tugged on a jumper that she found on her floor before walking over to Arias so that the pair could drive to Emily's house together. Hanna's message had been cryptic, all that Brooke got from it was that they were meeting at Emily's to discuss what had happened last night.

Still sleep ridden, the only thing Brooke managed to retain from the conversation was that they had been found out. Not them necessarily, but the police were now aware that the file had been stolen from the therapist office. The only good thing being that they were not yet aware that Hanna had been the one to steal it.

And shortly after the conversation in which they established that Emily was in fact safe, left with nothing more than a bandaged scrape and a little trauma from her chaotic night with Toby, Brooke's phone was ringing off the hook, so much so it almost vibrated off of the swimmers bedside table where she had placed it while she was sat with her on the blanket at the end of her bed.

One thing was sure, Toby had to be guilty of something. Or else why had he chased after Emily through the hallways of their high school? Brooke wished she could tell them why.

✧

UPON RETURNING HOME FROM EMILYS in that state that she was in, although now with her hair brushed and her makeup taken off with thanks to Pam Fields, Brooke found her brother sat on their porch steps, elbows rested on his knees as his leg bounced up and down, car keys in his hand.

However, that wasn't what firstly bothered her because the first thing she spotted upon walking onto her drive way was that there now sat three cars. Her and her brothers shared black car, her mothers red car and the silver one that belonged to her father. That is what bothered her most.

"Dads back?" She asked her raven haired brother, his head shooting up at the sound of her voice. There was a hidden hope that came along with her question, a small hope that allowed a small smile to pull on her lips. Hope that she hadn't fucked her family up so bad that her dad would never move home. Hope that she hadn't ruined everything as much as she thought she had when she opened her mouth and let her bluntness take the better of her. Hope that would be squashed with Masons next words.

He shook his head first, "No, he came to get stuff that moms decided is his." He explained, trying to ignore the pang in his chest when Brooke's only slightly elevated expression fell once again. "I wouldn't go inside, they've been shouting for an hour." He explained, gently trying to lead her towards the car.

Brooke shook her head, looking down at her outfit, a pair of booty shorts, a massive jumper that she was sure either used to belong to Jason or Mason, socks and sliders. "I'm not going to school wearing this." She laughed as genuinely as possible.

Mason sighed, effortlessly gesturing towards the door, he wanted desperately to protect her from everything, she already felt bad enough and he could tell. But he couldn't protect her forever as much as he wanted to. "Just be quick, I think Moms destroying the living room this time." He muttered and she nodded quickly running into the house.