— She saw that familiar head of hair. That patchy denim jacket so uniquely assorted in buttons and pins that could only belong to one person. She watched you from across the subway, she would’ve been breaking down if it hadn’t been for Brooke’s hand gripping her own.

She couldn’t have ran any faster off the bus if she tried.

Weeks later, she thought she could smell that signature vanilla scent of yours only to turn around to find Peyton in your jacket. It nearly killed her, she had to leave the room.

She couldn’t stand being just another girl left behind in your trail of broken hearts. Nearly a year long relationship, all down the drain. Yet it had never been truly over. She still felt your gaze on her, even with your arm around Peyton. It’s not over ‘til it’s over.

It’s not over ‘til she stops looking for glimpses of you in vinyl stores. It’s not over ‘til she stops waiting for you to appear behind her locker. It’s not over ‘til you’re just another person on the subway.

Rachel watches you and Peyton over Brooke’s shoulder, eyes blank and attention clearly elsewhere as she simply nods along. She waits until Peyton tries to kiss you goodbye just for you to play it off and watch as she steps off to her stop. She waits for you to cast those eyes of yours her way.

Then she’s finally back to reality. She smiles at Brooke when she follows soon after, throwing her waves of goodbye and promises of a movie night at her place. Now, she’s sliding up next to you, taking Peyton’s place on the crappy, plastic chair.

“So, you and Peyton?” She asked, wary. Rachel hates the way you can barely stand looking at her, the way you barely even nod your head. “oh, c’mon, {{user}}!” She groaned, throwing her hands up before they come thudding back down onto her lap.

“You can’t just ignore me for weeks and suddenly move on with someone new. That’s not fair.”