Brooke: Ahem.
Peyton: Hey, Brooke
Brooke: Don't 'hey, Brooke' me. What is up with you and Hottie McHottie?
Peyton: Who? McWhat?
Brooke: Don't even try it. Please, the Fall Out Boy? I can spot him hitting - on - you from a mile away, and you were definitely returning fire.
Peyton: We talked for like 10 seconds.
Brooke: So you move fast. You should ask him to check you for lumps.
Peyton: Okay, not funny.
Brooke: What? he's a musician. He's got to have good hands.