AUTHORS NOTE: I know I have stories, but writers block is a horrible thing. I got a new idea and decided a new writing style. More like a novel, not the typical dialogue stories you see. I hope you read and enjoy and review! Chapters in this story will be longer than my usual...please let me know if you like it, and if you do...again REVIEW :)

-Bethie

Tree Hill is a small town located near the cape of North Carolina. It's any vacationers dream, pristine beaches and blue skies with a touch of home. I was one of the 1056 people that got to call it home. I lived my entire live on Princess Dr., though my childhood was no fairytale. I grew up barely in the middle-class range, the youngest daughter of Jim and Lydia James, I was constantly overshadowed by my five elder siblings, but to be honest it didn't really bother me. I was more concerned with books, and as nerdy as I may come across, I was concerned with learning. My three older brothers were your typical jocks. Football, basketball…I think I can recall a lacrosse game somewhere in there as well. My two sisters surprisingly were cheerleaders…then there was me…Haley James, book nerd, tutor and poster child for the athletically challenged. I tried out for track one year and for the remainder of that year I sported a very attractive neck brace. Apparently you are supposed to jump over the hurdlers and not fall on your head. As the years past and the nest emptied the house became quiet and I reveled in the silence. My parents thankfully decided to live out their retirement by reconnecting to their hippy days, leaving the house literally to myself. It's an amazing thing going from fighting for five minutes in the bathroom to taking an hour long bath without interruption.

I graduated valedictorian of my class and pursued my teaching degree at the local college. I often get questioned about that decision. Why didn't I go to an ivy league school? In short, I'm a chicken. I'm constantly haunted by a school trip I took in the 8th grade…it involved a plane, me freaking out and exiting the plane without it ever taking flight. I personally blame my mother for letting me watch the Patsy Cline biography. So as silly as it seems, I stayed in Tree Hill. I didn't need to leave to accomplish my goals, I received my degree and shortly after accepted a position at Tree Hill high school and as cliché as it sounds I even managed to get engaged to my college sweetheart Chris. Chris Keller was the polar opposite of me, he liked adventure and excitement where I preferred the familiar. In my eyes, my relationship with Chris was my adventure. I never knew what he was going to say or what he was going to do. He always kept me on my toes. For a small town girl afraid to venture out of her comfort zone, that was a big deal.

I've read somewhere that the surprise of a gift is better than the gift itself. I never thought that was true until the day I came home from work and was very surprised to find Chris, in our home, with another woman. Yes, that was not a gift I enjoyed. I remember not being able to find balance, like the entire universe flipped and I was fighting to grab hold of something. Oh he apologized and said the typical lines of "this was the first time" and "she means nothing to me." Can I pose a question for the male gender? Now I know this may seem sexist but men do seem to be the culprits behind these excuses, if you have the gusto to bring another woman into a house with whom you share with your fiancé…why not have the same gusto to tell the truth about it? I mean you've been caught, for lack of a better phrase, with your hand in a cookie jar…quit with the excuses and just come out with it! Needless to say our relationship ended. I call this period in my life The Dark Age. My best friend Brooke Davis, with whom I've known since grade school, was convinced I needed an exorcism. When I tried to explain to her what an exorcism was she retaliated with her shoe. One thing to know about Brooke Davis, she doesn't like to be wrong.

Brooke in a lot of ways reminds me of Chris. The good qualities in Chris…the need for adventure and challenge. She's hatefully beautiful with raven black hair and piercing eyes and she whisper talks. Yes, whisper talks. It's raspy and unique but believe me it has power when she wants it to. Brooke is my rock. She has been there for every misfortune in my life and never fails to put a smile back on my face. I stayed with her for a few weeks after the break up, and unbeknownst to me she retrieved the engagement ring Chris had given me, smashed it with a hammer and mailed it to him. She laughed hysterically when he called three days later screaming about how much money the ring had cost. It's because of her I've managed to keep my sanity through the hardest time in my life. To be honest I'm still broken. That is why I am now sitting in an airport. Yes, airport.

Yesterday morning I was rudely awaken with an envelope being thrown on my face. Inside held two plane tickets. When I adamantly protested she grabbed her shoe. Can I address the fact that when ever there is a confrontation between us she always goes for the shoes? I think I still have a scar above my eyebrow from when she threw her sandal at me for not giving her my pink crayon in Kindergarten. To make matters worse these weren't plane tickets to Florida, or New York or even Hawaii for that matter…they were plane tickets to Ireland. My stomach has been in knots for almost thirty-six hours.

"Would you calm down already?" I looked over to see Brooke walking towards me with two cups of coffee. She handed one to me and then held out a little white pill, "Take this too."

"What is it?"

She plopped down next to me, "Don't worry about it, but I'm certainly not going on nine hour flight with you shaking all over the place."

"Brooke how many times to I have to tell yo-"

She held up her hands, "I know. I know…you don't like flying, but listen lady you've been a mess for far too long. You need a change."

"I do-"

"I know, "You don't like change.""

I felt my eye brows furrow, "Are you mocking me?"

"Does it sound like I'm mocking you?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm probably mocking you."

I squealed in aggravation, "I hate you so much right now." I looked at the pill in my hands before closing my eyes, popping it in my mouth and taking a big sip of the hot liquid.

"Now boarding flight 142 to Dublin, Ireland…"

I looked at Brooke in one last pleading attempt but she simply grabbed my hand, "Lets go James.

Before I could remember taking off I felt Brooke shaking my arm, "Haley, we landed."

I blinked my eyes a few times to regain focus, "Wh-What?"

Her smile widened, "Nice eh? You were out before they put on the fasten your seatbelt sign."

After getting our luggage from baggage claim we waited outside the airport for a cab. I immediately noticed the air. It smelled different, it was…cleaner. I looked at my watch, eight-thirty…meaning it was one in the morning in Dublin. I instantly yawned.

"Seriously you just slept for a little over nine hours and you're yawning?"

I grabbed the hair-tie from my wrist and pulled my blonde hair into a ponytail, "Don't start with me."

"Someone's grouchy when they travel."

I wasn't ready to admit it to Brooke, but I was glad she forced me to do this. I had never been anywhere outside Tree Hill. I don't count the time my parents rented an RV and took us to see the worlds largest potato in Greensboro. The dark sky hid much of the scenery on the drive to the hotel bur I knew it was beautiful. We pulled up to the hotel, I pulled money out to tip the driver when Brooke grabbed my hand, "No. For the next two weeks you are mine." Out of the corner of my eye I could see the driver raise an eyebrow.

Brooke Davis came from money. I grew up in a house where I shared a room until the age of sixteen, whereas Brooke was an only child with her own room and her own bathroom. Her father gave her a credit card when she was twelve but one of the many things to love about Brooke was that she didn't flaunt it. Sure she dressed in nice clothes, had the nicest car at school but she never made anyone feel beneath her. In high school was regarded as a nerd, not the type of nerd that was thrown in lockers or trashcans, but I wasn't exactly the girl guys were fighting over. Brooke on the other hand, was. Most didn't understand how we remained friends, she was more suited for my sisters. Captain of the cheerleading squad, student counsel president and prom queen. I didn't even go to prom. Though she tried to force me, it was finals week and she knew that was one battle she wouldn't win. So when she talked me into this trip, she knew I didn't have the money for it, I'm barely paying for my car with my salary, she insisted that everything was on her.

"Brooke-" I tried to protest but it was a lost cause. She tipped the driver whom I'm convinced thinks we're lesbians and we exited the car. My jaw nearly hit the floor. This was no Motel 8 or even a Holiday Inn…this was literally a castle, "This is where we're staying!"

Brooke shrugged her shoulders, "It's ok…"

"OK?" I nearly yelled, "Brooke this is too much, really we can stay somewhere less-"

She hooked her arm in mine, "Shut it. I don't want to hear another word. You think I'd take you out of the country and not have you stay in luxury?"

The room was absolutely beautiful. It looked more like an apartment than a hotel room. It opened to a living area with television and a room length couch. The kitchen was in front of the doors opening to a balcony, the counter tops marble, not the cheap imitation my parents have in their house, but real marble. Off to the right and left were the bedrooms. Before I could mutter a sound Brooke grabbed her bags from the floor, "I got the one to the left." I could barely catch my breath. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor bringing my back to the reality that she travels in designer clothes and I was fashioning the hoodie and jeans look.

"I'm gonna take a shower and hit the sack, unlike you I didn't sleep a wink on the plane…" I heard her yell from her room.

I literally couldn't speak. I was in utter awe. I wasn't sure why but the feeling of regret overwhelmed me. Why hadn't I done this sooner? How much had I missed out on? For someone who admires and fascinates over other cultures, I've never been anywhere. I traced my hand over the slick marble countertops and the admired the subtle décor. I slowly made my way to my room, taking everything in. I opened the French doors ands immediately lost the ability to move. The bedding was clean white, the walls a mixture of greens. My legs suddenly started working again, I felt like I was twelve as I fell on the bed. The down comforter engulfing my body. This could possibly be heaven.

My eyes opened half expecting to be back on Brooke's couch. Haley James doesn't travel. Haley James doesn't leave her comfort zone and Haley James certainly doesn't travel overseas to another country on whim. But when my eyes focused I was in the same heavenly room I had fallen asleep in. The light beamed through the white curtains and I couldn't restrain my lips from forming a smile. I left the bed, which could be the most comfortable thing I have ever slept in, and went to the window. I wanted to see my first glimpse of Ireland in the daylight. If I was breathless before, I would certainly die in a moment at the sight before me. Green hills for as far as I could see, the sky was gloomy but only added to the beauty of the landscape. The sun was hidden by gray clouds with beams of light periodically escaping sending the most beautiful lines to the hills.

"Haley-Bob…"

I heard Brooke calling from outside my room. I hated that she constantly reminded me of my middle name. Again, my parents were hippies, I can't explain…I'm just the one that has to live with it.

I walked over to the door and opened it, "Hey…" Brooke was sitting at the kitchen counter indulging in her morning coffee.

"I made a full pot…"

I smiled in gratitude and made my way to the coffee pot, "Brooke I can't begin-"

"Listen lady, enough with the thank yous…you needed to get away. I brought you away."

"Do you realize since you gave me the tickets I don't think you've let me finish a sentence" I joked.

Brooke shrugged her shoulders, "You talk to much anyway.." She winked.

I leaned across from her, "So what's on the agenda Ms. Davis?"

"Well, I thought we'd hit downtown, get brunch…maybe do some shopping."

"I don-" I knew it was coming before I even started…the interruption. It didn't matter how much I protested the money situation, Brooke would win.

"When I called and made the reservation they told me about this old bookstore I thought you'd like." She stated nonchalantly

It was reasons like this that Brooke and I had remained friends for so long. Brooke Davis had no interest in books. In fact I don't think she ever opened one. She was by no means stupid. Brooke was good at many things, she had a college degree in fashion design which she rightfully earned but when it came to recreational reading, she'd rather pass, but Brooke knew it was important to me.

"If I haven't told you already…Thank you."

She simply winked, "Don't mention it. But I figured while you're at the bookstore there's a shoe store not far from there…we'll meet up for lunch and then hit the sites?"

"Sounds like a plan." I warmly smiled at her, since Chris I hadn't been this happy in a long time.

There was a moment of silence when I finally asked the question that had been haunting me since she gave me the tickets, "Hey…Brooke…why here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Out of all the places to take a person who's deathly afraid of flying…you could have taken me anywhere…possibly not overseas…" I lightly laughed, "Why here? Why Ireland?" Brooke got a look in her eye I hadn't seen in awhile, not since she told me about her parents divorce. It was one of acceptance but sorrow, "Brooke?" I asked concerned.

She heavily sighed before answering, "Do you remember in 8th grade when I went away for the whole summer?"

"Yea…"

"It was the summer before my parents divorced and we came here…well not exactly here but to Ireland…and I knew that there was problems, I knew my parents weren't happy so, like you probably remember, I was in my "Dark Ages"…but when we came here…it was almost like we were a family again." She brushed her hair behind her ear, "And like you know when we got home my dad left and my mom became the person she is today" She lightly laughed covering the pain I could see in her eyes. Victoria Davis wasn't exactly what I would call the warm and loving mother. She was materialistic and after the divorce detached herself from anything reminding her of her husband…including Brooke. She often traveled and Brooke spent most nights at my house.

"I just want you to come out of this Haley…when my father left I was devastated, but when I looked back I thought of my time here and at least I remembered them as normal people. They had issues and they still do, but here we…were happy. I just want you to find happiness again."

I reached over to hug my friend. Whom really doesn't understand her importance in my life. "I love you Brooke Davis."

I shouldn't be surprised that the stores downtown left me breathless. I walked into the bookstore and felt a calming familiarality. It was indescribable to see such new things but it was almost overwhelming…familiar was nice. I randomly walked through the aisles, glancing at the passing covers. I stopped at a beaten cover of Les Mirables, my favorite. The story of second chances and sacrifice, nothing I had ever seen in my own life. Thinking about the story now reminds me that I've never had to sacrifice anything in my life. Being in Ireland has almost opened my eyes to the possibilities of the world. All the books I have read all the fantasies I have indulged in…I have never tired in actual life. I have lived my life so sheltered I've missed out on the mystery of it all. I pulled the book from the shelf, tracing over the delicate letters.

"The miserable ones." I heard a voice say.

I looked up to see piercing blue eyes, "Excuse me?"

"Les Miserables….it means "The miserable ones."

Like Ireland had already shown me, he was beautiful and also American, with only a slight accent from his obvious years of living in this country. He smirked and my held titled almost in amazement, could this person be real? "I-I know…" I stuttered.

His smirk widened, "I see you've read it."

I shook my head in agreement and he took the book from my hands, "It's a good book…" I couldn't help but notice his "o's" bringing out his accent more, "You can take it."

His generosity caught me off guard, "No I couldn't…"

He placed the book back in my hands, "Really…believe me we don't have a lot of customers buying it out of stock" He joked.

"You own this place?"

"No, my brother Lucas does….I'm just his loathly slave." His smirk reappeared, "I'm Nathan. Nathan Scott."

I reached my hand to greet his, 'Haley. Haley James."