a dedication to hassan (simply imagine jackie is hassan + the redheaded chick is everyone else in this world) :

he'll always be a soulless bitch, but MY soulless bitch xox 

also - this chapter turned out too long when i was writing it so i've split it into two parts, and this is the first half

hope y'all like the chap :)

fifteen ;
b r o o k s

"I HATE YOU," HASSAN grumbled, yanking his beanie down over his head so only the dark ends of his hair poked out. "I really hate you right now, Calla Brodeur."

It was bright and early on a Saturday, and Brooks was shivering in the wintry air off to the side of Woodway High School's muddy football pitch. He should have been tucked up in his bed back home, warm and not dying of hypothermia, with Inkeri's buttery pancakes to keep him company. Instead, the only company he got was Hassan's grumpy self - he wasn't a morning person - and Calla, whose enthusiasm wasn't even remotely blunted by the weather or time.

The reason she was so hyped up was probably the same reason why Brooks was secretly just as pleased. This was the much anticipated football match between Lexus and Woodway, the two biggest rivals in the area, and Hale was playing for their team. Calla claimed she was here for "school spirit" but Brooks and Hassan both knew she just wanted to watch Hale play, and to be honest, Brooks would gladly come all the way out here just to do the same.

At least Brooks and Calla both had something they were willing to sacrifice their Saturday lie in for: Hale. Hassan had literally no reason to be here. He didn't have the slightest amount of school spirit to muster up to enjoy this.

"Aw, cheer up, Has," Calla said, undeterred by his sour expression as she grinned up at him. "You need to get out more and this is the perfect opportunity to meet new people."

"Why the hell would I want to meet new people?"

"Because you've already scared off everyone at our school with your come-near-and-I'll-kill-you expression," Calla pointed out. "Now you can start over! Look at all these Woodway students, just waiting to mingle and make new friends."

Brooks wasn't so sure about the mingling part. They were part of the rival team on enemy turf, and if these teenagers were anything like Reed or Adam, they'd spit on the lesser beings who came from a lesser school where no one paid their way in. Besides, a football match was anything but a social scene. If Hassan wasn't willing to play nice at parties, Brooks didn't see how it'd be any different with competition in the air.

Hassan looked unimpressed. "I'm already stuck with you two. That's more than enough social interaction for me."

"I thought you'd say that," Calla sighed, a smile creeping onto her face as she procured two steaming Starbucks cups from behind her back. "That's why, as a thank you for coming here with me today...I bought you guys drinks! One hot chocolate for Brooksie over here, and one coffee for sullen faced Mr Khan."

Brooks instantly peeked up. "Nice! Cheers, Cal," he grinned, ruffling her wild curls. "You're the best."

"You two are like typical white girls with your fetish for Starbucks. And yes," Calla added, as she handed over Hassan's drink, "it is black coffee, don't worry."

"The consideration is appreciated," Hassan said, which was as close to a thank you as you'd ever get from him. Brooks watched in horror as he sipped the bitter concoction as if he actually enjoyed such a disgusting taste, and wondered for the countless time how anyone could like sugarless black coffee. Brooks didn't even like coffee after it had been doused in gallons of milk and endless heaps of sugar.

Brooks grinned. "Black like his soul."

"Actually, he doesn't have a soul," Calla said, exchanging an amused look with Brooks. "Black like his heart, Brooks. Because even people like Hassan have hearts, just really evil hateful hearts, y'know?"

"Oh, yes, a very evil and hateful heart," Brooks agreed with mock solemnity. "Maybe he isn't actually human, Calla. I hear some demons can take on the face of the humans to fool everyone."

Calla scoffed. "This one ain't doing a good job fooling anyone."

Hassan took a long, drawn out sip of his coffee. "I'm sitting right here, idiots," he said, bored.

Calla and Brooks grinned at each other. It was a game they played were they could see how long they could go discussing Hassan until his indifference cracked, and he acknowledged the conversation. They'd been playing it ever since year seven when the three of them formed their strange but inseparable friendship, and Hassan was dubbed the silent, broody one. Calla was the friendly, bubbly one.

Brooks wondered what his title would be. Shy, socially awkward one? Blushing, bumbling one? Maybe he should just follow Hassan's role and act all aloof so his lack of speech could be attributed with being cool, rather than being lame with nothing to say.

"No one seems very excited here," Calla frowned, looking accusingly at the other students, from Woodway and Lexus alike. Everyone was talking in groups and clumps, rubbing gloved hands with red noses from the cold. "Isn't this supposed to be one of the biggest matches of the term?"

"How?" Hassan said. "We always lose to Woodway, and it's no surprise to anyone. They don't care because the outcome has already been decided."

Brooks sipped his hot chocolate to hide his smile. "Wow, Hassan, tone it down with the positivity there. We wouldn't want our team to think they actually have a chance."

"I'm just being realistic," Hassan said.

Calla flicked him in the head and ignored the dirty look he shot her. "Well, shut up! No one wants to hear it." Her gaze flicked to the football pitch when cheers went up around them, and her eyebrows furrowed. "Oh. Woodway just scored again."

Hassan looked smugly into his coffee cup. "I'm not even going to bother saying I told you so."

Mr Lewisham, their school's football coach, called the Lexus team into a huddle and appeared to be chewing them out for letting the score get to five-to-one only ten minutes into the game. Unfortunately for Mr Lewisham, Will and Hale seemed more interested in kicking the muddy football at each other with teasing remarks. Brooks couldn't decide whether he found the immaturity exasperating or endearing. The playful smile on Hale's face meant Brooks was more inclined to the latter.

Hale glanced in his direction and flashed him a heart-stoppingly crooked grin, warming him to the tips of his toes far more effectively than any amount of hot chocolate. He didn't even care that he'd been caught staring; it was worth it.

"You and Hale seem to be pretty good friends now, Brooks," Calla said, and he looked at her a little too quickly, guilty.

Had he been too obvious? A smile had spread across his lips without realising it and he quickly wiped it away, terrified Calla somehow suspected his true feelings ran far deeper than friendship. But no, she wasn't even looking at him; she was tapping something away on her phone and wasn't even looking at him. It must have just been a coincidence, Brooks told himself, breathing an inaudible sigh of relief.

"I guess," Brooks shrugged, forcing a tone of neutral indifference, as if he didn't care when he really cared too much. "I mean, not really good friends. More like, we sit next to each other in chemistry and were forced to be friends. An obligatory friendship, y'know? I don't even like him that much. He's okay, I guess, but we're not buddy buddy. If you know what I mean."

Okay, time to shut up. Had he rambled too much? Hassan was looking at him a little strangely. Then again, Hassan looked at everyone a little strangely, as if questioning their every life choice and decision with silent judgement. It was his go-to facial expression.

Calla didn't seem to notice anything. "But you guys talk, right?" She pocketed her phone and looked at her with those large hopeful brown eyes. "Does he ever talk about me?"

"Um..." There was no way he could tell her the truth. It would crush her, and he hated to think he was the reason for her hurt feelings. "Sometimes, yeah."

"Really?" she beamed. "What does he say?"

Shit, this is why he wasn't supposed to lie. He could feel Hassan's eyes on him too, as if expecting a specific answer, and that only made him more uneasy. "Just...well, you know..." He spotted a distraction, and was desperate enough to grab it despite the repercussions. "Bellamy!"

The blonde was standing a little way off from them, with her back facing them as she chattered happily away to the Woodway students she'd managed to herd together. She glanced around at her name and her green eyes lit up like it was Christmas when they landed on Brooks. She wiggled her fingers in a farewell to the Woodway students, whose bemused expressions suggested she'd ambushed them when they were least expecting it, and tottered towards him.

Hassan swore loudly and colourfully. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded. "I don't feel like having my brain cells slowly commit suicide at attempting to hold a conversation with that idiot."

Brooks sighed. "Try and play nice, Has."

Evidently, that was a fond impossibility, because Hassan shot one last scathing look in Bellamy's direction and walked off without another word. He had to pass her to make his retreat and they exchanged a few words that Brooks suspected were anything but friendly, judging from the affronted expression on Bellamy's face when she reached Calla and Brooks.

"What a piece of trash," Bellamy sniffed, clearly talking about Hassan. "Why do you even tolerate his presence?"

"Hi, Bellamy, delightful to see you too," Calla said sarcastically. "The fact that you're standing here bitching to us about Hassan shows he won that argument, so I'm not going to waste my breath continuing it."

Bellamy narrowed her eyes. "You are such a little - "

"Bellamy," Brooks interrupted, through gritted teeth. "Can you just leave it alone?"

"Oh, I see how it is," Bellamy said in a hurt tone, rounding on Brooks like a viper, ready to strike with sharpened fangs at any moment. "You're choosing them over me, once again. I thought you called me over here because you were finally giving me a second chance, Brooks."

Brooks frowned. "Well..."

"Fine," Bellamy said icily. "What did you want, then?"

Brooks glanced at Calla for help, but she just gazed back at him with an expression that seemed to say, you brought this one on yourself, buddy. She had a point. Brooks had used Bellamy to avoid one topic, and now he had a whole new topic entirely to avoid. He should have just kept lying to Calla and hoped she wouldn't ask Hale about any of it. Lying was bad, but it was better than getting caught up in this mess.

Bellamy's hands went to her hips in an impatient posture. "Well?"

"I don't know," Brooks said lamely. "Just to talk. I wanted to...clear the air."

Her expression softened slightly. "Really? You're willing to give us," she placed a hand lightly against his chest, "a second chance?"

Uh, what? He was almost positive he hadn't said that. He definitely hadn't said those exact words. He opened his mouth to point this out, or at least appease the situation in some way, but Bellamy didn't give him a chance to answer her question.

"Why don't we talk about it?" she suggested, and turned to look pointedly at Calla, who returned it with a scornful look of her own. "Hello, we are trying to have an important conversation here? A little privacy?"

Calla raised an eyebrow at Brooks, who rapidly shook his head behind Bellamy's back to indicate she should most definitely not give them any privacy, and quickly replaced the frantic gesture with a smile when Bellamy glanced back at him.

"Nope, not happening," Calla said, going as far as to pop her p with a wide smile. Brooks shot her a grateful look and thanked God for Calla Brodeur. "If you want privacy, pick somewhere a little more romantic than a high school football match."

Bellamy looked expectantly at Brooks, as if expecting him to protest that, but he just gave a half-hearted shrug that was meant to show in the nicest way possible that he didn't care. "How rude," she snapped at Calla, and abruptly stepped closer to Brooks so that she was well within his personal space. "Come to my house next weekend, okay? We can discuss it all then."

"I don't know, Bellamy - "

"You've left some of your things at my place," Bellamy interjected, before he could finish his thought. "You'll have to come pick them up someday, no matter how much you try to avoid me. Just come, Brooks. It's not like I'm asking you to marry me or anything."

Well, he would certainly hope this wasn't a marriage proposal. That would be an awkward one to explain to the kids - daddy doesn't love mummy because daddy loves dick, and that's why you were all mistakes? Sure, that would go down well. Right after his parents killed him for daring to feel attraction to anything other than boobs.

"Okay?" Bellamy prompted, when Brooks didn't reply immediately.

He sighed. "Okay."

It's not like he had a choice in the matter. Bellamy was relentless when she wanted something, which he'd learnt the hard way, and he may as well give in now before she slowly wore away at his sanity. Those thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind when Bellamy leant up on her tiptoes, and pressed her lips to his.

She tasted like strawberry lipgloss. It wasn't necessarily a bad taste, but it also wasn't really what you wanted someone to think about during a kiss.

"Ryves!"

Brooks started back, even though the shrill blow of the whistle wasn't directed at him, and looked instinctively towards the pitch where the call came from. Hale had stopped dead in the centre of the pitch, trailing football abandoned at his feet, and was staring straight at Brooks. His dark gaze was piercing and impossible to look away from, sending a jolt down Brooks' spine.

Mr Lewisham gave another sharp blow of his whistle, accompanied with a yelled, "What the hell are you playing at, Ryves?" When Hale still remained unmoving, Dylan jogged up to him and gave his shoulder a light shove, hissing something unintelligible under his breath. Hale shook his head but Dylan had already reclaimed possession of the ball, returning it to the centre line where the referee was waiting to restart the game from the unexpected interruption.

Brooks watched as Mr Lewisham called Hale off the pitch and replaced him with a sub, then proceeded to give him hell for zoning out in the middle of the game. They were too far away for Brooks to hear the argument, but the lack of input from Hale and his dismissive way he folded his arms across his chest said he wasn't impressed with whatever Mr Lewisham was saying. He didn't glance at Brooks even once, even when Brooks looked intently at him.

Brooks shook his head in bemusement. What just happened?