"Sweet mother…"
If she hadn't looked up, she would have reacted too late to the honking car. She would be bleeding badly from parts of her body that she would not be feeling, her limbs contorted in odd angles as she begged to die from the pain.
Dazed and rooted to the spot, Haley James stares at the shiny, black hood as the car comes to a screeching halt, missing hitting her by a hair's breadth.
She curses softly out of relief more than anything, and lets out a slow and shaky breath. Her eyes trail up the windshield, finding a blonde-haired girl behind the wheel. It's hard for her to tell who she is, but the shock in the girl's eyes mirrors her own. She's also saying something.
All the sounds in the parking lot resume around her, like in that moment she was about to get hit her brain had shut down.
"Are you okay!?" the blonde yells.
Searching through her mental database, Haley realizes who the girl is. She looks panicked and horrified, reaching to open her door while still asking Haley if she's sure she's okay.
"I…I'm fine!" Haley yells back a little too loudly, scaring a freshman walking past. "Don't worry about it!"
Before Peyton Sawyer can step out of the car, Haley is heading towards the stairs, her heart still beating like a jackhammer. What a start to junior year.
As with every new school year, there's a faint smell of varnish as she walks down the hall. Someday, the paint on the walls may just peel off on its own from layer after layer being slathered on over layer after layer.
"Your girlfriend almost ran me over."
"What?" Lucas grumbles, pulling out some papers left over by his locker's previous occupant.
"Peyton almost hit me in the parking lot. Partly my fault since I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going."
Lucas pauses, turning his head to look at her. "Peyton? She's back?"
Haley grins, wiggling her eyebrows teasingly. "Now you can stop being all mopey."
A blush creeps over her best friend's cheeks. "I haven't been mopey."
With a hum and a soft chuckle, Haley leans her back on the bordering locker and looks down the crowded hallway. She must be the only teenager who feels good about being back in school. Tree Hill High is one of the bigger high schools in the region, and it can be difficult for people to actually know each other. Like the girl with the white-blonde pixie-cut pointing behind Haley for access to her locker.
Moving to the other side of Luke, Haley glances curiously at the students standing in the same section. "Isn't that Elise Roper?"
"Uh, yeah. Why?"
On a hunch, she looks over at the girl with the pixie-cut. "Excuse me, what's your surname?"
The girl looks at her strangely before replying, "Sinclair."
A few lockers down, she recognizes Matt Stowell. Quickly, she connects the dots, and with a gasp, she grips Lucas' arm as he shuts his locker. "Luke. Locker assignments are alphabetical this time."
He seems to flinch. His eyes widen, checking out the locker she's leaning on as he heaves the backpack over his shoulder. The look on his face changes, and he gazes at the locker with disdain and aggravation like it has personally wronged him.
"Which means that…"
His voice trails off as the owner of the neighbouring locker comes to a halt and looks up from the paper in his hand. The curse they both utter under their breath is soft, but it's clear enough to Haley's ears.
Over the years, they have managed to steer clear of each other. They may have shared some classes but they were in completely different social circles. Tree Hill was big enough for both of them. Having their lockers adjacent has shifted the dynamic of their relationship; each ignoring the other, pretending the other does not exist, will be so hard to do when their lockers are side by side.
Haley thinks that their anger and resentment is misplaced. It isn't their fault that they're related, and the person to blame for the way they treat each other seems to get away scot-free.
She looks Nathan over quickly before turning away. The summer has been good to him, or her eyes are magnifying what they're seeing. He's taller, more muscular, and his unchallenged presence is spellbinding. She's not oblivious to the looks of interest from the girls nearby. She would deny it heatedly when asked, but the boy has the right muscles in all the right places.
Without a word to him, Haley links her arm through Luke's and drags him away from there, taking a sharp turn towards the connecting hallway. "I don't understand why we have to start school on a Wednesday. Couldn't we begin a new year on a fresh week instead of somewhere close to the weekend? I mean, it's not that I have pressing social engagements to attend to over the weekend, but logically, I would rather be here with my things after summer on a Monday instead of a Wednesday."
She's rambling. There are things that make her uneasy, and when it comes to Lucas, bumping into Nathan is at the top of her list. Or bumping into Dan.
"What do you think?" she throws at him, feeling his tenseness easing the farther they are away from Nathan.
"I'm fine, Hales," he says, giving her a slight smile. "And thanks."
She gives his arm a pat, focusing on moving through the chatting students catching up about their summer. "On the plus side, Peyton's in your section. This is it."
Her locker is a ways away from his than it's ever been. Strangely enough, they've always had their lockers close. Once, they shared a locker in middle school.
A flame-haired girl in high heels, a short, tight-fitting skirt and an even tighter top is standing by the locker next to hers, applying makeup using the cracked mirror mounted on the open door. She is uncaring about the looks of admiration from the nearby male students.
Sliding the zipper of her messenger bag, Haley pulls out her notebooks.
"There's nothing like new supplies to get me into the mood for school," she says, turning the combination to her locker.
"Don't talk to me," the redhead says without looking their way.
A bemused look passes between Haley and Lucas. "I wasn't, but hello."
The girl rolls her eyes, without losing control of applying her lipstick.
"Have you talked to the coach?" Haley asks Luke, stacking her books and extra pens in a neat pile.
"Yeah. Try-outs are tomorrow."
"You'll get in. You'll see. So I was thinking that we could meet up at the roof for a round of mini—"
Suddenly, she's pushed aside, losing balance and bumping her elbow on the metal. "What the…"
The redhead is between her and Lucas, chest thrust out, standing in such a suggestive way that it leaves little to the imagination.
"Rachel Gatina," she says confidently, sticking out a hand with red-polished nails.
"Uh, Lucas Scott," he says, taking her hand but looking at Haley.
Rubbing her elbow, Haley frowns at the oblivious redhead who seems to be completely taken with Lucas. Rachel turns her head, throwing Haley a glare to assess her. She then whips her head again sharply, hitting Haley's face with her copper-red hair, hairspray and intoxicating perfume.
"I just moved to town," she says, not loosening her hand around Luke's. "Are you from here? I could use a tour guide."
Unable to stop a chuckle at Luke's reaction to the girl's sultry tone, Haley turns her back to them, rummaging through her bag for a stick of lip balm.
Before Lucas can answer, a curly-haired blonde joins their small circle, reaching for Haley's arm. "Hey!"
The trio faces her, one of them thunderstruck, another analysing potential competition, the other grimacing from the tight grip around her arm.
"Haley, right? I can't believe that I almost hit you. Are you okay?"
"I'm okay. It was my fault, too," Haley says, drawing Peyton's attention to her arm.
"Sorry. Again. Sure you're fine?"
"Yeah. Glad it wasn't worse."
"My bag just fell and then my phone was ringing and then…"
Her words fade, her eyes straying to the other two. "Hey."
At the silence from her best friend, Haley pipes, "Have you met Lucas?"
Peyton nods at him, peering at his head closely. "Lucas. Nate's brother. I've seen you around."
Luke seems frozen, but with a slight nudge from Haley, he nods briefly. "Hey."
"You look different."
Peyton's green eyes shift to the short bristles on his head that look silvery under the hallway lights. "Your hair."
Unexpectedly, she lifts her hand to run her palm over the crew cut. The gesture surprises both Lucas and Haley, with Lucas drawing in a short breath that only Haley can hear.
Peyton smiles, dropping her arm to her side. "Cool. Looks good on you."
"Get a room already," Rachel growls, pushing through them.
"Friend of yours?" Peyton asks as they watch her sashay away without having to shove people aside to be given way.
"No," they respond simultaneously.
"So I want to invite you to a party to really extend my apologies," Peyton says, and then grins widely. "Or you can just try to run me over?"
Haley laughs, pulling out her buzzing phone from her pocket. "Thanks, but I'll have to pass."
It's a message from her mother. She has to read it twice to understand what she's saying. Four more weeks! Don't forget to water the plants. Dad says hi. We love you.
"On the party or running me over?"
"Both."
The blonde chuckles and turns to Lucas. "What about you? You want to go to a party?"
Shutting her locker, Haley bumps against Luke's shoulder. "Yeah, Lucas. You should go to a party with Peyton."
She raises her brow at him, and taking the hint, he croaks with a sharp nod, "Sure. Yeah."
"Great. I have to go, but Friday night at the beach, I expect to see you."
In a flash, she's gone, Lucas staring at the spot she was last in.
When the bell rings and he's still looking dumbfounded, Haley rolls her eyes, dragging him towards the classrooms. "You've wanted a date with her since we were kids, Luke. Carpe diem."
He seems confused as he looks at her, like he still can't believe that the girl he's had his eye on for so long spoke to him and invited him to a party.
"If she hadn't almost run me over, you wouldn't have gotten this chance. I'm a great best friend."
Lucas laughs, throwing his arm around Haley's shoulders. "Don't brag."
"I have to. What's your first class?"
It's the same thing in class as it was in homeroom. Everyone's catching up about the summer, their voices a cacophony that is giving her a headache.
To tune them out, she takes out the book she had vowed before summer to finish by the time school started, but had somehow only managed to get quarter-way through. One of her guilty pleasures, with content that her mother would not be too pleased about. It's out of sight between the pages of a thick, hardcover textbook.
A harmonious whoop goes around the room. She looks up, finding that the joyous yell is directed at Nathan Scott.
For the first time, they're sharing a class. Their paths have never truly crossed, but if she counted passing by him at Max's Record Store in middle school, then they have been around each other.
He's grinning and returning greetings at those around him, doing that one-armed man-hug thing that she can never understand. It always looks so painful yet it's supposed to be a guy's version of affection. If girls did that, someone would be complaining about a sore chest by the end of the day.
She returns to her book, and as she concentrates, the male lead starts to take the shape of Nathan Scott in her mind: over six feet tall, dark brown hair that's almost black, a killer smile, striking blue eyes, a fantastic body. She's starting to feel a little constricted and warm in her light sweater as she reads on.
Water is dripping from his dark hair, his blue eyes showing amusement.
"You could have warned me."
"I tried to," she says with a giggle, lifting her hand to brush at his hair.
His palms rest on her waist, drawing her closer, and then he rests his forehead on hers.
"I think you switched on the sprinklers on purpose," he says softly, his lips grazing her cheek.
She starts to sway like they're dancing, her hands going around his neck.
"My personal wet t-shirt contest."
He laughs thickly, his mouth coming down to hers. Her lips part expectantly, but he doesn't kiss her, as if he's tormenting her just by hovering his lips over hers.
"Don't tease me," she begs, raising her eyes to his.
Her heart is thrashing in her chest as she impatiently waits to savour his lips.
Like he can't take it anymore either, he collides his mouth with hers, the kiss not the least bit light or gentle.
His tongue licks on every square inch of her mouth with a merciless dexterity that sends her mind spinning. Her fingers dig into his hair, holding his head to hers as she deepens the kiss, the intense heat spreading from her gut to. . . . .
Mortified at where her thoughts have gone, Haley takes a glance around the class should someone have seen straight through her. Perhaps it's better that she indulges in such books in the comfort of home.
Her eyes meet those of the person she's been thinking about the past five minutes. Settled in a corner desk at the back of the room, his entourage surrounding him, he's examining her like a specimen he's trying to figure out.
Though shamefaced, she holds his gaze, studying him right back. She finds him arrogant. From childhood, people would part like the Red Sea when he and his clique made their way down the hall. Whether it was because he was rich or hot, it always annoyed her.
His reputation with girls makes her stomach churn, all those bathroom stories she's heard of him using them and discarding them like ratty clothes. They also make her very curious about things she shouldn't be curious about, especially when they involve him.
They regard each other for another moment, and then Nathan's lips curve up a little in a smile. Like she's been heaved out of some bizarre trance, Haley blinks, turning her head quickly to face the board. What the heck just happened?
Happy New Year, everybody! And with a new year, a new story, told through Haley's POV, with mentions of Lucas/Peyton and a Haley/Peyton friendship.
I like sappy and happy Naley stories, and although there'll be drama, you should be expecting to see heaps of Naley togetherness. Well, when they do get together :)
Some bits and pieces you'll recognize from the show, some are all in my head. Not forgetting the disclaimer: all creative rights to the One Tree Hill characters belong to their original creator(s)!