The room that had been filled with cheers of excitement seconds earlier fell silent as he fell to the floor.
"Someone call an ambulance! He's not breathing." A voice from the floor shrieked.
"Wake up boyfriend" the brunette said between sobs as she pressed her head to his not beating heart.
"Lucas do you have any family history of heart conditions?" The doctor asked kindly at the heartbroken basketball star.
It was the question he had feared since he regained consciousness. He knew what his passing out had to mean. With a deep breath, Lucas replied.
"My father has HCM."
The smile faded from the doctor's face as she immediately told Lucas they needed to run tests.
"This could be the end of basketball. This could be the end of life as I know it," Lucas whispered to himself.
Things changed rapidly for the Tree Hill Ravens. They no longer had their star shooting guard, because of a heart condition that forbid him from playing the game any longer. If Coach Durham wanted any chance at taking his team to the State Championship, he was going to have to do better than replacing Lucas with a second stringer.
"He's good, ain't he Whitey?" Keith asked looking proudly out from the car at his nephew.
"Maybe," Whitey said hesitantly, "But there's no way I can put him on my team."
"Nathan could bring that team of yours to State. He's got passion beyond Lucas'."
The two men sat in silence as Whitey continued to evaluate the basketball player's skills. He could not help but be impressed when he saw the other Scott brother make a half court shot with ease.
"I can't deny that he's good" Whitey replied with thought, "But I don't think he'll want to join the team. Those two boys hate each other."
"Coach, he loves the game. I'll admit, it might be a tough sell. But that boy out there deserves to be noticed for his talent."
Whitey simply nodded, considering the consequences of the decision he was on the verge of making.
Nathan walked through the hallways not paying attention to the people around him. His thoughts were clouded with what he just heard.
"Watch where you're going!" A girl Nathan had just collided with snapped.
"Sorry, I wasn't paying…Haley!" Nathan said, his face brightening.
"Jeez Nathan, what's wrong with you? You were really out of it" Haley asked with genuine concern.
All of the concerns that filled Nathan's mind only seconds ago vanished. Haley and her beautiful face could make him forget anything, even something as confusing as this.
"Coach Durham wants to see me" Nathan said simply, bracing himself for Haley's reaction.
"Why would he want to see you?" Haley paused to think a moment. "Oh my gosh Nate! I bet he wants you to replace Lucas!"
Haley's last words confirmed his worst fears. There was no other reason Nathan could think of that the basketball coach would want to see him. "Ugh, why'd you have to say that?"
"Nathan, are you kidding me? That would be amazing news!" Haley said excitedly. "You deserve to be on that team. You're so good!"
Nathan couldn't help but laugh a little. Even if what Haley was saying was true, there was no way she would no if he was actually any good. "Hales, you always call a basket a touchdown. I don't think you exactly are the best judge of what makes a basketball player," Nathan said grinning at his best friend.
"Hey!" Haley said hitting Nathan playfully on the shoulder. "But even though I may not know the correct terms of basketball, I do know one thing. Basketball makes you happier than anything else in the world, and you deserve to have that."
His best friend was only partially right with her statement. Basketball did always manage to raise his spirits. But there was something that made him happier and he was talking to her.
"We don't even know if that's why he wants to talk to me."
"But if he does, promise me you'll at least really consider it." Haley said as she flashed Nathan her best pout.
"Promise," Nathan replied throwing his arm around his best friend's shoulders.
"That's all I ask" Haley said wrapping her arm around her best friend's waist, "Now let's get to class future basketball star."
