Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or any of its characters. I do own my OC and any characters related to him. I also do not own Liz Lawrence's song. With that said, I find it unrealistic that Halo was the only song Haley's storyline permitted her to both perform and write, and so there will be songs from other artists that I feel fit her voice and overall genre. I would write some songs myself, but then I'd have my girl sounding dumb and she deserves better than that lol.
Please review!
CHAPTER 2: When I Was Younger
"Brooke...what are you doing?" Haley has to ask.
For the first time in a long time, Haley is grateful that both school is over and that she does not have to work at the cafe this afternoon as she is not feeling either. At some point, she knows she's going to have to deal with the fact that Nathan's flock of ditzy dames actually still exist and still don't like her, that they actually dislike her even more now that he even seems to detest her very existence. Which, well, it's great.
And by great, Haley definitely means horrible.
Luckily, Brooke seems to be the greatest form of distraction as Haley's mind is brought back from the fact that words seem to fail her, an empty page on her notepad at her feet and her guitar in her hands. Her fingers have taken up a lazy strumming of the strings that sound like nothing more than Haley playing with the instrument like it is a toy.
"These, my dear roommate, are hair scrunchies circa nineteen ninety-five, and they are what is going to make this little living arrangement bearable." Brooke explains and Haley shoves her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, eyeing Brooke wearily.
"Brooke, I know you never liked my hair, but it can't be that serious."
"No, well," Brooke stops herself short, seems to think on it, and narrowly dodges the pillow Haley tosses her way when she admits, "True."
Snickering, the brunette continues, prancing about with scrunchies of different colors. "But no, it's not that. When either of us has a boy over, these scrunchies will be our first line of defense." She holds the specific color up as she explains its purpose, suggestive eyebrow wiggles and shimmying of her shoulders that have Haley chuckling.
"Observe, red scrunchie means 'occupied,' some serious action going on in here. The yellow scrunchie means we're just making out, but one or more of us may be topless." Leave it to Brooke, clad only in a fuzzy pink robe - though the loose way she secured the fuzzy belt leaves just enough of an opening that Haley can see the yellow boy shorts and matching cami underneath - to have created a system only she's going to need them to adhere to.
Haley wonders if she should have ever told Brooke that Lucas was stopping by.
"And the black one?" Haley inquires, a blank expression on her face.
"You're going to have to leave the apartment." Laughter bubbles up within her and burst pasts her lips without her permission. Brooke's smile is infectious.
"Well, I'm not sure I can handle thinking of you and Lucas hooking up in the same room I am sleeping in," Haley drawls, setting her guitar aside and sitting up on the sofa. "Not exactly a light sleeper, Brooke." Brooke's grin is dirty, shameless.
"You were the other night." The brunette cannot avoid the pillow that hits her square in the face this time.
"Brooke, I swear to God…"
"Kidding, kidding," Brooke sings, swiping silky dark brown hair over her shoulder. Haley finds it almost difficult to believe her. Making sure that the skepticism is written all over her face, Haley rises to cross the room into the kitchen to retrieve the water bottle she'd placed in the freezer. Ice cold water isn't exactly the best drink to partake in when it comes to singing, but she can't scrounge up any more lyrics to send to Chris as per their deal for extra money anyway, let alone actually singing anything for herself.
"Still, I don't want wanna know what you and the guy I see as a brother are getting up to, Brooke. I think I've seen enough since moving in here."
"Lucas and or others," Brooke pipes up. Haley whirls around to give Brooke a rather pointed stare. Brooke keeps saying others, but it still stands to reason that Haley hasn't actually seen any of the "others."
"Whatever you say, Brooke." The brunette makes a face and Haley has half the mind to flip her the bird and really blow the girl's mind, but all she does is unscrew the bottle cap and takes a few refreshing gulps of liquid. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she closes the fridge door, sighing. "Look, it's a really good system and I wouldn't be surprised if it's worked for you in the past, Brooke. I just...I think we both know I'm not gonna be needing any scrunchies any time soon." Brooke gapes at her.
"Are you being serious right now?" Brooke demands and Haley glances around the room as if there was anyone else her roommate could be talking to.
"I literally have no idea what you're talking about, Brooke."
"So, you're gonna seriously pretend like you and McHottie didn't have a moment today?" Haley rolls her eyes, unable to stop the way her cheeks begin to burn at the memory of Ikenasio Amasio-Douglas and how she very much liked the way his name rolled off her tongue. Brooke sees right through her and pointedly stares. "I mean, seriously, Tutor Girl. I was ready to call the fire department to our table." Haley snorts.
"I'm pretty sure you can blame the sun, Brooke, you don't need to be so dramatic."
"Are you kidding me?" Brooke cries and Haley knows the girl is being exaggerated on purpose, and obligingly chortles, though she's certain she would have done so regardless. She returns to her seat as Brooke goes on, "Haley, even I felt like I was on fire from the way he was staring at you."
"He wasn't…" Haley is quite aware of how awkward and unconvincing she sounds, belly fluttering with warmth as she recalls his eyes and his voice, Nas Nas Nas the only song her brain seems willing to think of. "I'm pretty sure he was staring at everyone." Thankfully, there's a knock at their apartment door and Brooke is the one off to answer it, but that doesn't stop her from declaring in a sing-songy manner:
"That sounds a lot like denial!" Haley rolls her eyes and tucks her feet up under herself, setting her bottle down on the low table and then pushing her guitar out of her way just as Brooke swings the door open.
"Denial about what?" Lucas inquires, squinted eyes turned to her and head tilted curiously.
"Just your boy Nas having a serious eye crush on Tutor Girl over there earlier," Brooke replies.
"Ignore her," Haley says at the exact same time. Lucas glances at Brooke first, who nods quite eagerly with her teeth digging into her lower lip, and then at Haley who peers at him over her shoulder, blank-faced. Chuckling, he shakes his head and steps further into the apartment.
"I did not know that." Haley can't decipher what that sound in his voice is just yet, but it is peculiar enough for her to note it as more than just amused. Brooke places a comforting hand on his shoulder, fingertips caressing more than Haley thinks it should if the touch is supposed to appear platonic. Then again, everything about their arrangement is confusing and nowhere near platonic, or casual.
"You're a boy, Lucas," the designer proclaims and Haley laughs at the offended look on the blonde male's face. "Of course, you didn't."
"Hardy har har," he gripes. "You're so not funny."
"I'm hilarious," Brooke corrects him and skips off, yelling, "I'm ordering pizza!" over her shoulder as she disappears to the back bedroom. Haley is still giggling when Lucas officially plops himself onto the sofa beside her, jumping up for a quick second when he realizes that he's sat on her forgotten notepad.
"What's this?"
"Songs I'll never sing," she tells him and Lucas tilts his head wonderingly. Haley looks away from him to avoid his pity. "I mean, maybe not never, but I just...I don't know. I just haven't really liked any of them for myself and since Chris has been paying for some of the ones I know for a fact aren't really for me, I try to keep writing." She shrugs. "Not like I've been doing much good writing as of lately." Lucas peers at the notepad curiously before flipping through the pages.
"What are you - Haley?" He exclaims, stopping on the pages that clearly have completed songs on them. He glances at her, puzzled, before returning his gaze to his current page, eyes scanning over the words. A minute later and that puzzled look is turned back to her. "Haley, this is great."
"Yeah, well, it's not for me," she replies and takes the notepad from him, tucking a stray blonde strand behind her small ear. She sighs again and slumps down in the sofa, tossing the notepad onto the low table before her. "I can write all day for everyone else, but as soon as I even consider even one song for myself, all my ideas go right out the window."
"Haley…"
"I've been in this...weird headspace for two months, Luke." He leans back in the sofa too, mirroring her and Haley leans over to lay her head against Lucas' shoulder, sighing again. "It got so bad that I couldn't even do the last show before I left."
Haley doesn't point out that it all began right after she returned backstage to see Nathan gone, the note on her light-studded vanity the only evidence of his having been there. It had read: "I hope you're happy with your choice." Haley hadn't been able to fully grasp the depth of her shock, her hurt and her guilt, until she was on stage with Chris, practically choking on tears as the band picked up on When the Stars Go Blue, voice cracking when she belted. Chris had given her a worried glance, but she couldn't see him past the stage light, past the blur from her tears.
Lucas does not speak for a few minutes, just lets her rest on him for a little bit until he gestures to the notebook she'd left forgotten on the low table. "And what's that?" Haley lets out a disgusted noise from the back of her throat, unable to stare at the stupid pile of papers on top of a stupid book that a stupid girl once wrote in.
"The list of predictions, dreams, and wishes I made over the years," she answers, sitting up then. She looks back at Lucas, declaring, "You know, I really think I was a much better person back then." Lucas peers at her lostly.
"You're the same person you've always been," he replies and upon her scoff of disbelief, adds, "You are, Hales."
"Yeah, right."
"I'm serious." Lucas leans closer, determination so poignant Haley cannot fathom breaking the eye contact. "I'm not gonna lie to you, Hales. You came back home and there's...there's definitely been something different about you."
She looks away at that, at the low table, at the notepad of songs she can't muster up the heart to sing so she gives it to someone else who can, and startles when Lucas grasps one of her hands, summoning her gaze once more. "But you're still you. You're still the same short little bookworm who has absolutely no balance and has probably broken as many dishes as she's served." She snorts.
"Thanks a lot, Luke." He beams at her before gesturing to the notebook again.
"That's not a list of who you are. It's a list of…" Lucas does that squinty eye thing he does when he's trying to choose the right words and it makes Haley smile. "...who you're gonna be. That's still up to you and you know what? You did become something you wanted to be: a singer. And you were great at it." Haley rolls her eyes.
"Yeah, and look what good that's done me," she bitterly says. "Two of my friends hate me and everyone's looking at me like I'm the second coming of the plague. Even you were mad at me."
"Hales…" Lucas sighs.
Haley feels a touch guilty for fixing some of her ire on him. Lucas has forgiven her, she knows that. She also knows that he wasn't even really as mad at her as he was saddened by the reality that she had left, that she had not even said goodbye. It doesn't take away from the fact that she had felt just as alone. He gives her hand a squeeze and Haley peers into his apologetic eyes, softening. "Look, I'm not gonna lie to you and say I wasn't upset when I found out you left. But you leaving to go on tour did not make you a bad person. It wasn't selfish and it wasn't a bad decision. Did it feel like one?"
Haley cannot explain why tears begin to prick at the corners of her eyes, why she wants to curl up into her best friend's arms and sob out all the tears she'd buried deep in herself over the last few months, so she shakes her head slowly, whispering, "Not at first." Lucas sighs again, heavier this time.
"I was so proud of you." He tells her this suddenly, after a few beats have passed and then seems so saddened by the surprise her face shows. "I was. I used to look on YouTube to see if anyone posted videos of the shows and Haley, you looked - I've never seen you look so happy before."
A small smile tugs at the left side of Lucas' mouth, almost like it happened without any control on his part, and there's such fondness in his eyes that Haley's chest goes warm, and her eyes sting even more. "You were so nervous that night at Tric, when you performed at the talent show. We almost didn't even hear you until you got a little louder. But during that show, Hales, you were...you looked so free, like you belonged there." Lucas pauses and laughs a little. "I mean, other than that one time you totally tripped on stage - " Haley chokes on a laugh, equally mortified and thrilled. She still cannot believe she almost busted her ass all because she hadn't seen the cord to Dustin's amplifier.
"I can't believe you saw that…"
"I did and I've never been more proud to have a klutzy rockstar of a best friend," Lucas declares and Haley cannot help herself. She leans over to wrap her free arm around Lucas' shoulder before untangling their hands so that she can do the same with her other arm, hugging him tightly.
"Thank you." Lucas only rubs her back gently, squeezing her just as fiercely and they both pretend that she doesn't sniffle, that the tears don't leak out of her eyes and roll down her face until they drop onto his shoulder. Luckily, he's wearing a dark shirt, so Lucas says nothing about it, not even when they pull away and Haley's swiping at her eyes. In fact, Lucas goes so far as to help her, thumb swiping at a tear she knows is stuck in her lashes and she smiles at him, gratefully. He only smiles back.
"You literally made one of those dreams you wrote come true, Hales," he goes on to say and Haley's smile widens until she feels her teeth are showing. "And if it made you happy, then that's all that matters. Nathan and Peyton - they're only secondary and if they can't understand that, then I hate to say it, but it's their problem. Only you get to decide what your dreams are going to be and who you are gonna be. You're allowed to grow, even if it means that everyone else doesn't like how the process makes them feel."
Haley thinks about the girl who used to sit in her bedroom, peering over textbooks and the like, pen in hand a small notepad she'd shown no one else that had lyrics of songs she always hid in her bedside dresser, thinking it a distant dream, a false reality she conjures up in her solitude when her only destiny lay within the confines of school books and education. She feels Lucas watching her as he asks, "What do you want for yourself this year?"
"Honestly, to get through this year without everyone whispering about me every time I walk down the hall," she states. Lucas does not say anything to that, so Haley glances back at him. He's staring right back at her and the knowing look in his eyes leaves her unable to fight the smile that tugs at her lips. She tries to suppress it anyway, surprised at the giddiness she feels in her chest.
"And?"
Luckily, there's a knock on the door that demands Haley's attention and she jumps up, letting her mind drift to the pounding of her heart as the stage hand directs the fierce, bright light on her, nearly blinding her. The way the microphone fit in her hand, the butterflies in her belly - the feeling of right that thrums in her veins just as powerfully as the bass does, the way the stage vibrates beneath her feet. She tosses a grin over her shoulder to a still knowing Lucas with a stupid grin on his own face and jokes, "You know the rules, Scott. Can't tell each other til' next year...just in case it comes true."
Lucas only laughs, grabs one of the stray pillows on the floor nearby, and hurls it at her. She's almost unable to duck it, giggling.
"Brooke, I think your pizza's here," she calls to the back just as she reaches the door. But then she swings it open and her smile freezes on her face. Her whole body freezes and her eyes widen before she realizes she's squeezing the doorknob so tightly, her knuckles are turning white. Haley swallows the happiness Lucas just invoked, brown eyes trained on a familiar set of blues before exhaling the name, something like lead dropping in the pit of her stomach.
"Nathan."
Haley offers to pick up two two-liter sodas from the nearby liquor store on her way back home when she goes out, grabbing a hold of her wallet and her apartment key, not bothering to grab a hoodie to go over the halter top she wore to school. Unlike Brooke, she sees no need to change after school, but perhaps that has more to do with the fact that Brooke had both an SGA meeting and cheer practice after school to run. Besides, Tree Hill has not reached the point where the evenings are chilled to the point that Haley needs a sweater or jacket just yet, and so she takes advantage of it.
Nathan does not say anything as they depart from the apartment complex. The only thing he does to even acknowledge her presence is accomodate her shorter strides and it almost reminds Haley of before, back when he'd spot her coming from the tutoring center and would walk with her out of school, offering rides to the cafe or even to their spot to work on homework or simply hang out. The memory of their burgeoning friendship sends a pang to Haley's chest, and she glances at Nathan to see if remembrance has struck him too, if perhaps that will influence the direction of the conversation she knows they need to have.
If he does notice her staring, Nathan does not acknowledge her.
It is not until they get on a semi busy street that Nathan deigns to speak. The liquor store is at a corner on Ralph Street. There are a few businesses on both sides of the street, a restaurant diagonally across from it. A few of the businesses on the ground floor, Haley knows, have apartments upstairs. Brooke would rather wander around here during the day when there are less guys that linger, less leery eyes and raunchy comments. Haley does too, but she also likes the little old lady who runs the liquor store. Plus, Tree Hill has had their fair share of crime and plain old tomfoolery - some from boys Haley goes to school with, others who simply have family members in the surrounding area - but it hasn't been enough to make her see her hometown as less than safe.
"Listen, Haley," Nathan begins and Haley glances up at the side of his face. Nathan has a light complexion that darkens only slightly beneath the sun's rays, and in the weeks that he was away at camp, he's developed just a barely there tan that Haley can admit is flattering to the ocean blue of his eyes and the dark hair that sits atop his head. Once, Haley would have classified the color as black, but she's got the glints of brown in the sunlight. "I've been thinking about us and I know I've been...well, ignoring you. That's not exactly fair."
It is only then that Nathan does look her dead in the eyes and Haley cannot mask her surprise at the admission. She ponders the right thing to say, desperate to keep this appreciated, tentative peace, lips parted in consternation before she shakes herself of her awkwardness.
"No...no, we, uh...we didn't exactly end things on great terms," she concedes, shoving her hands into the pockets of her fitted dark wash jeans. "So, I get it, I do. I'm really glad you came to talk to me, Nathan. I really appreciate it." He nods and then does not speak for awhile. They near the liquor store, its pale blue light casting a hair-raising glow on the trio of guys hanging out outside of it, cigarette smoke drifting around and from them.
"If I go on pretending like you don't exist, like we were never even friends, then I'm not being honest with myself," Nathan continues. Haley cannot tell if he notices or even cares about the guys, but she's grateful he doesn't pull away when she steps just slightly closer to him. He glances down at her, her head only reaching just above his shoulders. "We had some great times, Haley. I can't let myself forget that." Haley's smile is small, even as she feels that lead in her stomach make its presence known.
"I can't either." Nathan only glances at the guys and they nod at them both, the redhead's stare lingering below Haley's chin and she bristles, hurrying inside of the liquor store and grateful that the door shuts resolutely behind them. Taking a deep breath, Haley peers up at him. "Nathan, if it ever felt like I was being unfair to you or that I didn't care about you, you have to know that that's not what I was trying to do."
The soda section is off to the left and close to the checkout counter, which Haley is grateful for. She rushes to the cheapest ones and observes the flavors, trying to decide which ones Brooke will like most. Haley herself prefers juice, but she promised soda and soda is what she'll buy. Haley does not notice that Nathan does not follow her to that section.
Again, he doesn't say anything for a minute and it is only when his words register that Haley glances back at him. "I do know that. It's just...it's just that there's a difference between what you try to do and what you end up doing." Haley stops short, hand on a bottle of strawberry flavored soda. When she looks at Nathan, his hands are also in his pockets and his gaze is stormy, the blue depths tumultuous, at best. He looks away briefly before meeting her gaze again, "We were friends, Haley - "
"We were more than that."
Haley does not understand the brief flash of hurt that comes and goes on his face nor his frown, but it makes that lead substance inside of her even heavier, weighs down on her chest and makes her take a struggling breath. She also cannot decipher what that other emotion in his eyes are; her mind briefly recalls that wistful look on Brooke's face once before when they talked about the star athlete, the way the girl had had to bite her lip as if to stop herself from saying something more.
Shaking her head of the annoyance at what she now knows is the two of them keeping secrets from her, Haley takes a few steps away from the stand of sodas towards Nathan, sincerity in her voice as she clarifies, "Nathan, you were one of my best friends." She has no idea why Nathan flinches at that, but it hurts nonetheless. She soldiers on. "You were and I didn't mean to make you feel like you weren't…"
"It's…" Nathan falters. "...it's not that."
"Then tell me what it is, so I can fix it, Nathan," she pleads. He averts his gaze and she sighs, loudly. "We used to talk about everything, things that I didn't even talk about with Lucas...like my singing and your Dad and everything else in between." Nathan still does not look at her. "I know that you were just looking out for me with everything with Chris and I didn't mean to get so defensive and keep secrets. I just didn't wanna let you down."
"But you did." He says it curtly, jaw clenched. It's then that he looks at her again and his eyes are hardened. Haley can feel Mrs. Barnes peering out from the murky glass of the closed-off register, knows her eyes are darting between the two of them and the awareness of that - of the fact that they are having this conversation in a public place, even with only one person as their audience - brings an embarrassed flush to her face.
"Then let me make it up to you. Let me be there when I wasn't before."
"I can't." Haley flinches at that and Nathan's face softens for a fraction of a second, guilt stirs in his eyes, but then he's back to firm shoulders and an even harder gaze. "I just...whatever it is that you want me to be, I...I can't be that for you, Haley." His handsome face twists up as he adds, "I can't be your friend."
It feels stupid for tears to well up in her eyes, but Haley feels like she's being transported back in time. She's back in middle school when everyone is deciding upon the cliques and labels they're going to assign themselves and others, and Sarah Brokenborough is telling her that she can't be seen with someone like Haley, sneering down her nose at Haley in her hand-me-down jeans from Taylor and loose t-shirt, the girl's bouncy strawberry blonde curls swishing behind her as she prances off with girls Haley doesn't even think go to Tree Hill High anymore, all clad in too-short skirts and more mascara than they honestly need, a whole other world from Haley.
It's been a long time since she's thought of Sarah and the rejection she'd cried over in the bathroom before learning to either be invisible or meeting the derision with blank-faced indifference, but it seems to sting all over again, adding to the way a knot seems to form in her gut.
"Because I went on tour?" She demands, hating how her voice sounds garbled and watery, hates how she has to blink a few times to see Nathan clearly. "Because I didn't tell you I recorded a song with Chris, knowing you were already upset that I was even talking to him? Knowing you'd be even madder if you knew about it?" Nathan shrugs.
"It is what it is," he tells her and Haley scoffs, shaking her head as she looks away from him. The glass is still blurry and Haley can only see that Mrs. Barnes is there, but not a clear image of her. The woman's sympathy is evident, nonetheless. She hears Nathan sigh before he says, "Look, I just wanted to tell you where my mind is - "
"With absolutely no consideration to mine," she interjects.
"It is is what it is." Nathan repeats and Haley almost wishes she had something to throw at him. She shakes her head again, hating that she agreed to walk with him, hating that they didn't just have this conversation in her apartment so she can shove pizza in her mouth and curl up on her bed.
"Well," she begins, running her hands over her face, carelessly wiping any trace of tears that have leaked out, "then there's nothing else I need to say. You should just go home." Nathan sighs again.
"It wouldn't be right to just leave you, Haley." She glimpses him gesturing to the sodas beside her."Just...just go ahead and get what you came for and I'll walk you back." She snorts bitterly.
"Don't bother. I don't feel like being escorted by someone who wants me to beg for forgiveness for doing the thing that I've always wanted to do just because it came as an inconvenience to him." Haley watches Nathan open his mouth to interject, to correct her as he sees fit, but her eyes narrow on the athletic male as she cuts him off, "I'm sorry, Nathan. I'm sorry that things weren't working out for you as well when I was gone. I'm sorry that it felt like I abandoned you when you needed me. However, I will not apologize for going off to do the thing that made me happy, especially not when you knew how happy it made me."
"That's not fair - "
"Go."
"We're going the same way," he growls, notably frustrated but Haley turns her back on him, snatching up the strawberry flavored soda she's already decided to nab for Brooke.
"Just go!" A few seconds go by without any movement and Haley glances behind her, bitterly snapping, "It's not like you're not used to walking away from me. You've been doing it since I came back, so do what you're good at and leave, Nathan." He lets out another frustrated noise, but Haley does not look at him. Her gaze resolutely is fixed on the soda display.
It takes a few heartbeats, but Haley flinches when the door finally does slam both open and shut. It is only then that she takes the breath she'd been holding.
"Boyfriend?" Mrs. Barnes inquires when Haley finally feels ready enough to complete her transaction. By the time she comes to the counter, she has two bottles of soda, some pastry snacks, and an individual size pint of mint chocolate-chip ice cream she knows for a fact that she's not going to share with Brooke. Brooke doesn't like it anyway, but Haley knows she was the one who ate the last corner of the larger tub she'd bought last week.
"I don't date assholes," she bites out and Mrs. Barnes grimaces. Haley immediately feels guilty and the apology tumbles out, but is overridden by the gentle shaking of the older woman's head.
"You're allowed to still be upset. That...wasn't pretty." Haley sighs, still frustrated, tucking hair behind her ears. They finish up her transaction and she's sliding her two paper bags off of the counter when Mrs. Barnes called to her, eyes trained to something beyond the door. "You just...you be careful when you go out there." Haley glances to the large window that the ATM obstructs, glimpses two of the guys still propped up against it. She already dreads having to inhale the putrid fumes of their cigarettes as she passes them.
"Have they been out there for long?" Mrs. Barnes nods.
"They were in here earlier," she explains. "They think I don't know that they've stolen, but I just didn't feel like dealing with them over a few candy bars. Just be careful when you go out there and hurry home." Haley nods and squares her shoulders. She offers another parting apology and exits the liquor store, grateful that the bags aren't too heavy. She clutches at them, the crunching sound of the brown paper almost comforting, and she walks past the boys, making sure to keep her gaze straight ahead.
It does not keep her from shivering despite the warm evening that is beginning to turn into night, their eyes like knives on her back, not stabbing but the tip scraping over her flesh from the back of her head to the bottom of her feet, threatening and unwelcome.
"Hey, Yellow Shirt!" Haley does not look back nor acknowledge them, and fails to hide the way she flinches. She knows, without looking, that it is the redhead calling out to her. She keeps walking, steps quickening. "Yellow Shirt, I know you hear me calling you!"
Something cold settles in her bones when Haley hears the pitter-pattering and scuffling of shoes on the concrete. They are following her.
"Come on, sweetheart," the redhead purs. Haley clutches her bags tighter. "Me and my friends just wanna help you carry those bags."
"Sucks that that douchebag left you alone." One of the others comments, this nasally voice that grates on Haley's nerves, but she does not turn around. She keeps walking. She's going to have to turn left and although a part of her wants to keep going straight, go another block because it's much busier on this street than the one she has to turn on to, she also wants to take the quicker route back to Brooke and back to the safety of their home.
"Ummm...thanks," she offers over her shoulder. "I'm fine. That's...uh...really nice of you." One of them laughs, she does not know which one, but it makes her skin crawl. Haley tries to walk a little faster, though she knows that any faster will be her running and she does not know if it will entice them to do the same. She turns the corner, praying like hell that they will get the memo and just leave her alone.
Of course, she's not at all that lucky.
Haley barely makes it halfway down the side street when she feels a hand on her shoulder, turning around and gripping at her tightly. Her gasp comes out strangled; she had not even known when they'd jogged to catch up to her. Steel grey eyes peer down at her.
"Now, where are you headed off to in such a hurry, pretty lady?" He asks and Haley's nose wrinkles at the smell of cigarettes on his breath, chocolate staining the already nauseating scent, its sweetness only making it worse. His buddies are at his shoulders, just behind him.
"Look, guys, I'm just trying to get home to my friend - "
"We can be your friends," the guy on his left insists. His voice thick with an Italian accent and Haley briefly ponders over his face, trying to recall if he was a waiter at the Italian restaurant Nathan had taken her to last fall. Briefly, she berates herself for not sucking it up and letting him walk her home.
"That's really...nice of you," she offers and the third guy with his platinum blonde hair and thickly-lined eyes, nose piercing glinting underneath the nearby street light, chuckles. The guy holding her bears down on her shoulder, clutching it tighter, fingertips digging so hard she can feel it in her bones and Haley winces.
She knows that doing anything right now when there is no one else around is stupid, but she wants to punch him. She can feel the spike of adrenaline in her veins and if it was just the two of them, she would punch him. She also knows that he's not alone and that any sudden movements on her part will not be accepted by his partners, and her helplessness makes her shudder. "I'm just….I-I-I really just wanna get home…"
"Come on, guys," another voice speaks up, gravel-rich and deep and Haley startles, half expecting for there to be a fourth person that she had not anticipated. The terror, though, is short-lived because over her captor's shoulder she glimpses a familiar, handsome face.
Ikenasio stands just beyond the street light, but still clearly visible. He has his own brown paper bag clutched in the crook of one arm. His stance is relaxed as he approaches, long strides that emphasizes the length of his denim-clad legs. He is not wearing the black shirt from earlier, but a ribbed white tank top that shows off the definition in his muscled arms. They're slightly bulkier than she had thought before and there's some black ink on his shoulders, peeking out from the neckline of his tank.
"The little lady shouldn't have to repeat herself." His frame looks calm and his voice sounds the same, but his eyes, when he finally is close enough to see them, gleam dangerously, the brown-gold so m
uch more distinct as he stares the boys down. Haley's breath catches in her throat. The guy holding her turns to face him more and Haley tries to wiggle away, but he wraps his whole hand around her upper arm and squeezes. She hates how she whimpers.
"This ain't got nothing to do with you, pretty boy," he declares, "so, why don't you just go on about your business and leave us to ours?" Nas doesn't reply to him at first. He glances at her, spots the way she tries to pull away again, and then glances back at her captor, eyes turning into green slits.
"Can't do that." His voice seems to drop to an even lower pitch as he adds, a command if Haley has ever heard one, "Now. Let. Her. Go." Haley's pulse quickens and she doesn't know what worries her more; the guys surrounding her, or the guy facing off with them. The Italian guy breaks off from the trio, approaching Nas. Haley has the distinct feeling that that is not a good move.
"I don't think you understand, you piece of shit." Haley watches Nas watching the guy as he grows nearer, eyes trained on him. Dread fills her. He points a finger as Nas, saying, "Get the fuck outta here or - "
His threat will remain unfinished.
Nas' right fist shoots out without warning, catching the guy unaware as the hook connects with a crunching sound that makes Haley wince. Spittle flies from the guy's mouth and Haley is sure she sees at least one tooth fly as well. Nas doesn't give the guy time to react; he follows it up with a forward elbow thrust that sends the guy crashing to the ground, unconscious.
The redhead holding her lets go, shoving her roughly. The sudden moves makes Haley drop her bags on a gasp. She doesn't even have time to consider retrieving them and the items that spill out. The blonde is suddenly the one towering over her and the look in his eyes make her hackles rise.
"Where do you think you're going?" He taunts.
Haley does what she has wanted to do since before Nas showed up. She draws her fist back and lands a punch right to the guy's nose, making sure to put as much of her weight into it as she can, not retracting - just like Keith taught her - until she feels something give beneath her fist. There's a twinge of discomfort in her hand - a potential hairline fracture, much like she'd gotten the two times Keith taught her how to punch - but she ignores it. The guy howls in pain, but she does not stop. Haley grasps a hold of his shoulders and hops once to drive a knee as hard as she can between his legs and he drops to his knees, hands clutching his jewels and whimpering.
"You...bitch…" He grounds out. Haley does not reply. It's overkill, she knows, but instinctively she swings her left foot back and kicks the guy in the gut. He rolls onto his back with another pained sound. She glances upward, having heard the scuffling, to see her original captor slipping a knife out of his denim jacket. Ice shoots down her spine.
"Nas, look out!" She cries out.
Just in time, Nas also catches sight of the blade and spins out of the way, just barely missing the stabbing motion...or, at least Haley thought he'd missed it. Nas hisses and Haley watches as a line on his bicep wells up with blood. Eyes widening, she takes a step forward only to watch as Nas thrusts his elbow forward again, this time catching the black-haired guy in the throat. The guy chokes, head tipping backwards, and Nas grasps the armed hand with both hands, squeezes, and then lowers his knees to get the momentum he needs in order to hurl the guy over his shoulder.
The redhead lands on the concrete with a horrid thud, arm twisted uncomfortably in Nas' grip, Haley notes. Nas does not give, though. He twists harder until there is a resounding pop that makes Haley's hand rise to her mouth to stifle her cry. The blade finally clatters to the ground. The sound of the guy crying out makes Haley's ears ring and she knows for a fact that she'll be hearing it for the rest of the night.
It is at that point that Haley thinks that Nas will let the guy go, but he does not. She watches as Nas drops to straddle the guy and then punches him once, twice, and then keeps going, switching from one hand to the other. The shock of this brutality - this seeming loss of control - takes Haley's breath away. It takes her longer than she realizes it should for her to put an end to it.
"Nas!" He doesn't so much as falter, still punching the redhead. Her captor is no longer moving nor is he making a sound. Her heart slamming against her ribcage, Haley takes a step forward before hardening her voice, yelling out, "Ikenasio!"
Nas pauses mid-punch. The look he gives her makes her mouth go dry.
"Stop," she tells him, surprised to find that she is shaking, but she does not know if it is out of fear of him or...well, she doesn't know what the alternative is, but there is fear. Nas' chest heaves with every large gulp of air he takes in. Haley spots something red and wet across his left knuckles. She softens her voice then, "He's...I think he's got the point." Nas glances down at the guy he's still pinning to the ground; the redhead's head is turned to the side. Haley cannot tell if his chest is still moving. Faintly, she wonders what it says about her that she doesn't have any empathy for him.
Nas doesn't say anything for a long while. He takes his time getting back onto his feet, still peering down at his victim. Haley watches him with bated breath. He then begins to approach her. He takes a quick glance at the guy he initially knocked out, giving a disgusted sneer. Eventually, he moves to the one Haley has taken down who is still groaning and heaving out pathetic little hoarse whimpers that gives Haley far more satisfaction than she thinks they should.
"Don't know who let you get away with it," he spits, aggression in his clenched fists and fire in his eyes as he kneels down to the blonde. Watery eyes peer up at him and the blonde flinches, mascara streaking his pale cheeks. "But harassing women gets your ass handed to you. Remember this the next time you and your buddies wanna mess with someone." Nas glares the guy down until the blonde averts his gaze.
Finally, Nas peers up at her from his crouched position and Haley wishes she could say something, but she's trying to convince her body to stop trembling. Eyes still on her, Nas gathers her items and puts them back in their bags. Haley watches speechlessly. Then, he's rising and his eyes scan her form, but Haley cannot focus on that, not when he's standing tall and towering over her. Her head barely comes over his chest. It makes her swallow.
"They hurt you?" She shakes her head, licking her dry lower lip and forcing her mouth to form words.
"No." Nas nods before his gaze catches on something to her left, eyes softening.
"Your arm," he explains, handling her bags until they're both held against his chest with one arm, reaching out to her. Haley's entire body freezes and so does his hand. She blinks, surprised to find her eyes wet.
"I'm sorry," she says quickly. There's a rumble that comes from the back of his throat and Haley's eyes dart back up to his to see barely contained rage on his face. "It's...it's not you…"
"It'll bruise." She peers down at her arm and makes out the beginning outline of a hand. She goes back to wondering if she should feel bad about not having cared about the redhead's current state, and that faint sense of guilt has her not acknowledging her bruising arm to glance past Ikenasio.
"Is he - ?"
"Still alive," Nas finishes without her having to. Haley glances back at his face and spots a flash of hurt before its washed away by a hint of shame. "I wasn't going to…" He falters, but when he speaks again, his voice cuts through the cold that still seems to cling to her bones, "He'll be fine." Haley's only response is to nod. A few beats later and Nas sighs. "Listen...I'd get it if I kinda scared you - "
"No." The word comes out immediately and Haley glares at him, voice firm, her conviction resolute as she wills her body to calm down. "I-it was...there are a lot of things that I'm feeling right now, but I'm pretty sure the last thing is fear of you." His brow seems to furrow in surprise, in confusion. It is the first time that Haley notices that there is a scar on his right eyebrow, cutting into the center of the thick hair. He doesn't reply to that, doesn't say anything for a few moments.
"Let's get you home, alright?" She tilts her head curiously.
"Your bag…?"
"It'll be here when I get back," Nas assures her, hesitates, and then reaches out with that same hand from earlier to steer her in the direction she had initially been heading. "And if not, I know the store lady. She'll let me replace it." It won't be until they're back at the steps leading up to her apartment that Haley realizes that she had never noticed Nas in the store, that he'd been in the back of it the entire time.
The walk back is silent and without any more excitement, and by the time Haley reaches the stairs, the weight of what has transpired settles into her pores. Nas glances up at the stairs and the line of doors, and then peers at her.
"You live here alone?" He asks, worried. Haley finds it endearing.
"No, it's actually Brooke's apartment," she explains. "Actually, it used to be Nathan's, but…" The thought of the athlete makes Haley stop short and she shuts her eyes, shaking her head as she thinks back on their argument. When she opens her eyes, she's just missed the storm that passes over Nas'. She groans. "I'm such an idiot for sending him away."
"He's the idiot for leaving in the first place."
"I'm the one who told him to," she insists. "If I had just sucked it up and - "
"Don't," Nas orders her, voice firm, his grip tightening on the bags he refused to give her back during their walk. Haley locks eyes with him and is surprised by the almost far off look in his. "Don't ever blame yourself. You didn't ask for this." She does not press upon the fact that it still stands to reason that a smarter person would have made a better decision. Instead, her eyes fall on his left arm and the blood she sees running down his arm. Her position had been on his right before, so she hadn't spotted it earlier.
"You're still bleeding!" Nas merely glances at it, makes a face, and then shrugs.
"I've had worse," he tells her and Haley shudders at his flippance.
"Still, you shouldn't just let that sit without wrapping it," she complains, grasping a hold of his arm and twisting it lightly to get a better view of the cut. It doesn't look too deep; it has not touched muscle, thankfully. But it still makes something inside her twist up. "I think we should have something in the medicine cabinet if you wanna come up…"
"Haley." It's the way he says her name that gives her pause; his voice is still softer somehow and there's so much meaning surrounding the two syllables that Haley cannot break away from the eye contact even if she wants to. He stares down at her, something undecipherable in his gaze and says, "I've had worse."
Speechless, Haley's gaze flits back to that scar on his right eyebrow, on the way that she has noticed that though his nose is fine and fits his face, there is a sort of bump to the bridge of it that is just barely visible. It makes her wonder if he was born like that or if his words pertain to that, if there are other scars that mar his bronze skin and how many he had to acquire before he began to see them as consequential.
"Just...just promise me that you'll take care of it." The left corner of his mouth twitches and, satisfied, Haley hopes her face is as threatening as can be, though she knows the small smile forming on her own lessens it. "I'm so serious. I will check you for bandages tomorrow at school. Don't think that I won't."
"I'm sure you will, little lady." Haley blushes.
"And thank you," she finally says. "I honestly don't want to think about what would have happened if you hadn't followed me out of the store." A cloud descends upon Nas' visage and he glowers.
"Don't mention it. If you feel like going to the store when it gets dark outside, get my number from Lucas. I'll walk with you." Haley immediately shakes her head.
"I don't wanna - "
"I live nearby," he interrupts her and he narrows his eyes at her. "Promise me." Haley rolls her eyes, trying to shake off that pleased little thrill that rushes through her despite what was going to be stubbornness.
"I promise." Nas watches her. She thinks he's trying to see if she's lying to him, so Haley paints on a wider smile. His mouth twitches again and Nas hands her her bags, carefully making sure she has a sure grip on both. Haley smirks. "You're gonna stand vigilant and keep off the bad guys until I close the door, aren't you?" At this, Nas' lips stretch out into a grin that brightens up his entire face. Haley's heart stutters.
"Yep."
She's sure she looks a mess, a bruise forming on her arm, a tear in one of the bags Nas had managed to keep from her, and a silly little grin clear as day on her face.
Lucas is already gone, home and still upset about what has transpired with the promise of words for Nathan on his lips after he's dropped her back home. They've rushed over to the roof and placed their wishlist for the year behind their brick, and Haley is back on her makeshift bed. Brooke has offered her a spot in her bed and Haley's grateful, but restlessness surges in her veins until she's flopped onto her back, whispering an apology to a disgruntled Brooke.
It takes her a half an hour before she has the recorder on, her guitar in her hands, and Haley tosses her head back, hair cascading down her back in an untamed wave of honey blonde. She sighs.
"Okay, Chris, I thought I wasn't going to look back on this one and I'm not really sure what to do with it, but I figured if I sing it out, maybe we can do something with it," she declares, fingers plucking at the strings mindlessly. The bedroom door muffles the volume, so Haley knows she won't disturb Brooke too much. She'll just have to hope he forgives her for the almost raspy dulcet tones she can offer him at this time of the night. "Here goes." She begins to strum the guitar, nodding her head to the melody she'd thought of weeks ago and had told herself it wasn't good enough, wetting her lips before beginning to sing:
When I was younger,
I told my mother,
I said, one day I'm gonna make you proud.
Now that I'm older,
It's so much harder
To say those words out loud.