So here I am. Here being a large double story house with a nice garden and ‘happy family’ stamped on the front door. ( Metaphorically speaking of course.) I walk up the steps and wait a full minute before I knock, my hand trembling slightly and I hate that. I hate that I can stand in my home town, in a place that I ruled and that my hand can shake with fear. I want to tell my hand that there’s nothing to be afraid of here, that this is the one place on earth that maybe fear doesn’t have to exist for me, but four years of knowing nothing else but fear is hard to push away in just a few hours.

So I settle for ignoring the tremor and go for it, only to find myself a minute later still knocking rather fruitlessly.

No one’s home.

I mean I really hadn’t planned for that. This takes the wind out of my sails for a moment or two, but I recover quickly when the taxi driver honks his horn impatiently.

I know where they are, or I at least have a very good hunch.

Karen’s Cafe.

There’s not that many places you can go to in Tree Hill on a Saturday for a late breakfast, but Karen’s was always the choice spot. I should have known right off the bat that that’s where they’d be, but I was so hoping I would get at least a little lucky on this one thing. Now you see why I stole all those little bottles?

So I’m off in the taxi again, my eyes drifting over houses and streets and even trees I recall seeing everyday for the first eighteen odd years of my life. I smile when we pass the park where I first met Peyton, wondering if the tree near the swings still have the initials B&P carved into them. Wondering if I close my eyes tight enough if I could still remember the way Peyton squeeled out loud when I pushed her so high on the swings that she could see almost over that very same tree we carved our initials in.

‘Higher, Brookie, I wanna go higher!’

She always wanted to go higher, always said she wished she could reach out and pluck a cloud down for us to sit on. Later she’d settle for drawing pictures of two little girls with matching pig tails floating around on white, fluffy clouds.