How To Play And Win
by Grace (purplemud)
Summary: The way to deal with this Lucas thing is through the only way I understand: basketball.
Rating: 4 for language
Pairing: Naley and teensy bit of Brucas/Peyton
Disclaimers: Standard disclaimers apply. Me don't own.
Author's note: I'm so sorry for the severe and massive Nathan OOC-ness. I try not to make him so, but ergh, it's hard. Season one Nathan is everything all rolled into one: he's arrogant and bratty, self absorbed, insensitive at times and yet still somehow capable of being sweet and tender. Which is why we all fell for him. LOL. Anyway, I also want to apologize in advance if this chapter went totally bonkers.
Chapter 10: Morning Warm Ups
I freakin' hate Mondays
Of course, it's just my luck that I'm meeting Haley today. I haven't spoken to her since that bizarre Friday night phone conversation and I have sworn on the team's winning streak – the only thing sacred enough that I could think of – that I am not going mention anything about the party.
Not a damn thing.
It's best that that I shut up about it and let things go as they always do: customary exchange of good mornings, drop a few charming lines, study, banter a little, the occasional one-sided flirting and then we'd go our separate merry ways.
For now at least.
Yeah, I'm somewhat putting the plan on hold. After a night of sleepless, serious, sober scrutinizing, I've come to the conclusion that so far, nothing has gone my way. Especially as far as the plan is concerned. I'm going to have to re-evaluate and re-asses the whole thing. This is a fucking set back, as far as fucking set-backs are concerned, I realize that, but there is just no way that I could smoothly carry out Operation Screw Lucas. Not after everything that had happened Saturday night.
Damn Vegas and his stupid party.
And finally, I have someone else to blame other than myself.
So anyway, here's the thing: when you're drunk and you're wallowing on the insaneness of it all, you start to realize certain things. Things you're bound to forget the morning you wake up at someone else's patio, the sound of waves crashing against the shore, cruelly reverberating inside your skull. Like a jackhammer on crack, going absolutely nuts inside your brain, or in this case, my brain. But that's totally irrelevant, my point is, I'm not the kind of guy who'd forget things just because I happen to successfully down two bottles of vodka.
A lot. But still not enough to invoke drunken, selective amnesia - which would be awesome by the way, considering the fact that had I told Tim, of all people, that I like Haley James and not to mention that little conversation I had with Brooke Davis.
God knows I have to do something about that soon. I can't believe I practically handed out the ammo for Brooke Davis to shoot me down.
I never learn.
I should have never sought her out when I was that drunk. First thing I'm going to do the moment I step inside the school is look for her and pray to God that she'd been smashed enough to not remember anything from Saturday night's party. And on top of that, I have to make sure that Tim keeps his mouth shut and that Vegas stays a hundred feet away from Haley.
It's definitely going to be a long, long day ahead.
I guess I've been too deep in my thoughts, wasn't looking to where I was going, but I wasn't surprised anymore when I realized that I had bumped into someone and that someone turned out to be Haley James. She has a strange way of popping up whenever I start thinking about her.
I'm being punished. I know that now.
She looks up at me startled, her eyes growing wide. "Nathan!" She exclaims as I catch her elbow, gently tugging her towards me.
My hand feels the bracelet before my eyes sees it and I smirk at this. I don't know why exactly, but seeing that stringed purple, pink, yellow and green plastic beads around her delicate wrist makes me feel all sorts of happy.
It's odd to kind of consider her bracelet as something significant. I mean, it's the kind of thing fifth graders would offer as a promise bracelet or something equally girly to their playground sweethearts and I can't help but think that whathever this thing with Haley James is, it would be so much simpler if that had been the case. All I need to do now is pull Haley's hair, run screaming around so she could chase after me and then I'd stop, grab her by the waist, pull her against me - real tight - and kiss her until we're both breathless.
No. Wait. Dammit. How the hell did the playground scenario end up with us making out behind giant neon-green slides? I mentally roll my eyes and shake my head. Stupid, fucking hormones.
I'm suddenly distracted from the daydream-slash-vision as I feel her arm lightly brushing against mine as she gently disentangles herself from me and I swear, we both jumped apart – it's not just me, it's her too.
I quickly drop her hand, like she had just burned me and it's only because she's looking at me like I had burned her.
"Wow, you're, like really early." Haley mumbles, tilting her head a little to look at me before staring off into the distance as though trying to figure out something. She glances back at me, her brown eyes suddenly looking a shade lighter, almost golden.
Swallowing hard, I shove both my hands back into my pockets. Safe. Safer. Whatever. "Can say the same thing to you, James."
She scoffs softly, rubbing her nose in that totally cute way of hers. "I'm always early." And then seeing my raised eyebrows, she rolls her eyes. "Except for that one time and you're obviously never going to make me forget about it either."
"Well, I'm thinking you're sill half asleep. You better watch where you're going," I tease her, easing back into more familiar grounds. "We both know you're prone to falling flat on your-" I stop myself just in time to watch her arch her eyebrows up, daring me to continue. "Just be careful," I hastily amend. Gorgeous ass, even with the word 'gorgeous' attached to the ass, would not be taken so lightly.
"So, ugh," Haley starts off, shifting her weight from foot to foot. I watch her as she clasps her hands in front of her, dropping her head, attempting to hide the faint blush slowly blooming on her cheeks
Her being somewhat nervous is also making me somewhat nervous. Is it possible that I'm still slightly drunk? Because I can suddenly feel my hands going cold and kind of clammy.
Frowning a little, I wonder how it is possible for so many things to change in a little over than three weeks. I remember the first time I asked Tim about Haley, how he had asked if I was planning on slumming with her and how I thought that had been an almost funny joke. How did things start off with that and ended with this – me getting nervous over her being nervous?
"…was your weekend?" I hear the end of her question and I blink down at her. Confused. Or not change at all.
I give Haley a long searching look and she blinks up at me, the expression on her face completely unreadable. Are we suddenly back to small polite talks? I feel a slight pang of disappointment but I quickly brush it aside. Doesn't really matter, right? I mean, since there's no plan and all.
"My weekend?"
Well, let's see, I was blissfully passed out the whole of Sunday, trying to mentally slice out the more cringe-inducing memories of the party from my brain. No such luck. And, oh, yeah, because my day would not be complete without my dad being a total ass, he barged in my room, mid-afternoon, demanding that I get up, work out and do some drills, adding, in his loving, fatherly way: "What did I tell you about letting your stupid high school parties distract you from basketball? You keep this up Nathan, you're going to end up like some sloppy, over-weight nobody, just like your uncle Boozy."
The nifty little dig at Uncle Keith isn't a new one. I've heard it all before, in fact, I'll let you in on a little Scott Family Secret: my dad makes it a hobby to put Uncle Keith down. Once a week, minimum. Twice a day, max. And I'm thinking, well, this is exactly why Lucas and I would never ever get along in the first place. My dad just isn't a fan of the One Big Happy Family Concept. As you can imagine. But where was I? Oh, right, my dad being an ass. Well, guess what, Haley, I have good news. I defiantly waved Dan away and stayed in bed. Just like that. It's amazing just how much I've been going against my dad lately. Don't blink, Lucas and I just might end up being the best 'hey-bro-what's-up-bro-take-care-bro' buds ever and wouldn't you just like that? Anyway, Saturday sucked ass, Sunday was lame.
Haley is starting expectantly up at me, a strange expression flitting across her face. For a brief moment, I'm horrified at the thought that I might have actually opened my mouth and told her all those things. Not that I'm compelled to. Well, maybe a little, but still, it just wouldn't do any of us any good if I start spilling my guts to her. I just don't do that. I refuse to.
Peyton once told me that my problem wasn't me being a first class jackass, it was me refusing to put down my walls. I don't know what walls she was talking about but I get the idea. I'm supposed to talk feelings and stuff like that. But why bother? Talking it out never did anyone any good. All it does is make you vulnerable. No one wants to feel that way. Most certainly, most especially me.
"And the party?" Haley ventures, her voice low, tentative.
I try not to wince. "It was pretty…" Horrible. I'm looking for something worst than horrible. Atrocious? But no, that was the word Brooke had used once to describe Tim's haircut and Peyton's feet. Worst than atrocious. Dammit. I can't find one. And even if I did, I'd have to explain why and I would have to say that it's because she didn't show up and had not in fact bothered to call me to let me know that she wasn't coming. Not that I felt like she stood me up because it wasn't like a date or anything like that. "It was awesome." I finally, vaguely answer.
"Sounds great."
Haley doesn't sound genuinely enthusiastic, though. Bending my knees a little, I peer down at her face. Her eyes meet mine and I know it can't be, it's not possible, but there it is, I can feel that stupid butterfly-fluttery feeling at the pit of my stomach. I swallow hard as Haley looks at me intently, some nameless emotion shifting behind her eyes.
"Haley," I start, not entirely sure what I'm going to tell her but before I can even get another word out, she quickly averts her face, sighing softly.
"Well, should we get started?" Haley asks, placing her bag on top of the table and digging for her books.
I straighten up a little, wondering just what the hell happened there.
First she gives me that look and then she pulls back like I've done something to make her change her mind. I hadn't done anything. If I did, she wouldn't still be standing in front of me staring at her notes like she had never seen them before. No, no. If I had acted on instincts, I'd have her pinned against that table and… dammit. I shake my head, lick my lips, glance at her and then at my watch, "I thought tutoring officially starts at seven?"
Haley sits down, raises her eyebrows at me in a silent question. This expression at least, I can easily read. It's a universal female expression. It's the highly befuddled: So? Which means that they know exactly what you're trying to say but they're pretending that they don't. Girls.
"So, we still have, what, fifteen minutes of official non-tutoring time." I answer, shrugging my shoulders and smiling slowly down at her.
She looks up at me, her corner lips twisting up in the smallest of smiles. "An eager student, you are definitely not."
I raise my eyebrows, plopping myself across from her, my knees ever so briefly grazing hers. "Oh, you know I'm always eager." I give her a mischievous smirk and a slightly suggestive look. Now this is more like it. None of that angst-ridden, confused crap. This is better. Flirting. Or at least trying to flirt with Haley.
"Why do I have a feeling that's not as innocent as it sounds?" She answers back in a challenging voice.
"With me, it's never innocent." I wink at her and got rewarded by the sight of her cheeks turning rosy red.
She slants her eyes at me, in that totally threatening, totally adorable way of hers. "You never stop trying to be charming, do you? Or is it like ingrained to your genes."
My ears perk up at that. "So, you think that I'm charming."
Haley glances up at me, this time the smile on her face staying longer than five seconds. "You have your moments." She mutters, rolling her eyes, consciously pushing an errant lock of hair out off her face.
I can feel my eyebrows rising. "Really?"
"Now is not one of them." She isn't looking up at me; instead, she seems to be overly concentrating on the practice tests laid out before her.
"Well, that can be arranged. How many moments do you want?" I asked grinning brighter. Okay, maybe I don't hate Mondays as much. Just as long I get to have conversations like this with Haley James.
"Nathan, stop it." Haley says, pouting up at me. "We should really be studying now." She shakes her head, biting her lips. She has a fascinating way of biting her lips. Whenever I watch her do it, it's always in slow motion: her teeth gently grazing her lower lips, slightly digging into the flesh, before slowly pulling back…
Jesus.
It's the docks, the early morning light, the scent of freshly cut grass; they're all conspiring to make Haley look hot.
At seven in the morning.
Something is definitely wrong there.
I have to make her change the time of tutoring. I obviously can't function properly at seven in the morning. I can't be subjecting my self to this kind of torture. It's fun but not fun-fun. I swallow hard as I slowly sat down across from her, mirroring her pout. The last time I asked her if we can switch from AM to PM she hadn't really been so amenable to it.
Okay, so I might have suggested that she can tutor me in my bedroom and yeah, that was really stupid of me, but I was just joking. Well sort of. I mean, lately, whenever I start picturing her tutoring me, it always ends up in my bedroom - with her not tutoring me at all.
In fact what we're doing does not even come close to tutoring. And have I mentioned that this particular mental picture – no actually, mental-movie, has been occurring a little more than just lately? And that it always ends with us snuggling under the covers. I mean, jeez, snuggling? Does that even sound like me? Which is why it makes it even more important now that I put some sort of normalcy back to this tutoring business.
I know that Haley is hell bent on getting my grades up. She's relentless and she said that tutoring me after school, like say nine or ten in the evening instead of seven in the morning is completely out of the question.
"Everything has to be under my terms and conditions or I am not tutoring you at all!"
When Haley James makes statements like that, I tend to listen and really keep it in mind. She drives a hard bargain. But no one has ever said 'No' to me before. I don't give up that easily as well and for a whole week, I brought out the big guns: I was extra charming, extra nice, even extra polite and still, she wouldn't budge. It was no time for pride. I went to pouting and begging and even tried to bribe her with daily rides to school (which she flat-out turned down, what's wrong with my car? She rides on Lucas's wreck of a truck) and coffee and my mother's home baked cookies (which she ate and was thankful for) but still, we continued to meet at the docks, seven in the morning sharp.
Honestly, I like it that she can keep her word like that but this set up seriously has to change.
It's time to try once more. And, I just happen to have the perfect excuse. "Hey, Haley," She makes a small sound of reply but doesn't look up at me. I went on ahead, "We have a game Thursday night against Bear Creek and I'm under strict orders from Dan to not mess up. His Kiss Ass Jamboree is Saturday night and no one wants to party with a bunch of losers and I was-"
This gets her whole attention and have I mentioned just how much I enjoy it when I have all of her attention? She looks up at me, frowning. "You guys are not going to lose to Bear Creek Warlords."
"Warriors." I correct her, a little surprised but more than happy to know that she's confident about our game.
She rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Mouth says that Bear Creek guys dribbles too much and mostly just in one spot so apparently, they're screwed." I think my eyebrows shot up so high, Haley actually giggled. "What, I can't know things about basketball?" She asks in a mocking tone. "Besides, you're forgetting who I hang out with."
I never forget, I mentally answer back. "I didn't say that. In fact," I lean forward, completely forgetting about the whole changing of schedule thing. "I like it that you know things about basketball." Next to having all of her attention, I love it best when I make her blush. "So tell me, players dribble a lot, what makes you say that they're screwed."
"I didn't say they were screwed. Mouth did. He said if players dribble too much, the other team have time to get into defensive positions, get ready to stop the drive," she scrunches up her nose, as though trying to remember something.
I shake my head, chuckling a little. Haley James, always so full of surprises. "And?"
"And apparently too much dribbling equals ineffective penetrating."
Jesus freaking Christ, hearing her talk about basketball, even though she's only repeating whatever it was that Mouth said – I'm gonna remember that kid's name now – is so fucking hot. I might have sat there for a complete second, my jaws hanging open. I hope I'm not panting or anything, but Christ Almighty. "Would you like to repeat that?" I asked her a little hoarsely.
Haley is still busy writing something, she doesn't spare me a second glance. "Yeah, laugh all you want Scott, just 'cause I don't understand the quadrilateral defense, doesn't mean I'm completely clueless."
"I'm not laughing and it's ugh, triangle defense, actually." I tell her in a low, solemn voice. And seriously, it's not helping that she's fiddling with her pen because right now, all I could think about is how it would be like to have her soft, smooth, dainty, little hands touch me everywhere and by everywhere, I mean, every-fucking-where
As though reading my thought, Haley suddenly looks up. "Anyway, you were going to tell me something?"
I watch her mouth move slowly. She's got a nice mouth. I've noticed that before. I'm noticing it again.
"Nathan, you're staring."
I blink at her, frowning at the slightly reprimanding tone of her voice. "What?"
"Nathan, are you alright?" Haley asks looking genuinely concerned.
I quickly shake my head and lean back, trying to appear cool and clam and collected. Get a grip, Scott. It's one thing lusting over her; it's a whole lotta different thing if she actually finds out. "I'm fine." I tell her with a shrug.
"Are you sure?" Haley asks, frowning. She leans forward, closer. "You look kind of pale."
"Relax, James, I'm okay." Good, stay with the 'James'. Keep focus. Change of schedule. Ask her. "And yeah, ugh, about my dad, he said I need to get ready for the game, have an additional two hours of basketball drills every morning."
Haley scowls at this. "Seriously, Nathan, isn't your dad supposed to know about basketball and team standings and all that? I mean you guys are undefeated, what's his problem?"
I sigh. Exactly what I had been trying to tell my dad. Of course, it's not like Dan would ever actually listen to me. He seems to have completely lost his grasp on what the game is all about. The first time we had an out of town game, Dad had sat down with me to talk strategy. He mentioned that Lucas would be all jittery and nervous playing outside the comforts of Tree Hill and it's home court advantage. It was the perfect opportunity to show Whitey that Lucas does not have what it takes to be on the team and that I should do everything that I can to make it worst for Lucas. Which makes absolutely no sense at all since he's basically telling me to sabotage Lucas's game without sacrificing our winning streak.
How the hell am I supposed to that? When my dad gets like that, it really makes me think about the lengths he'd do just to get what he wants.
"He wants the team keep on winning and I gotta be in shape to be able to do that."
Haley arches her eyebrows but the expression on her face is different, something I hadn't seen before. She looks up at my face and then slowly lets her eye travel downwards. After a few minutes of scrutinizing me, she leans back, crosses her arms against her chest, imitating me. "Well, you look like you're in shape, Scott."
I give her a wolfish grin. "I know I look fine, James but thanks for checking me out."
Haley merely rolls her eyes at me.
Chuckling lightly, I finally give in to the temptation and gently brushed my hands over hers. "So, c'mmon, Haley, how about it? I have to wake up for an extra two hours because my dad can't have me slacking off my morning work out and Dan's been busting my ass ever since Lucas joined the team."
"Well, it's not Lucas's fault." She mutters softly and I feel my face twisting up in a frown. I don't know if she intended it for me to hear but I certainly didn't like the tone of her voice.
I'm about to tell her just that when she, completely out of nowhere, totally unprovoked, blows off a strand of hair away from her face and freakin' hell, forget Lucas and my dad and the stupid basketball game on Thursday. I've just proven how much of a distraction Haley James could be. Now, inside my head, I've officially replaced her hands with her mouth.
I shift uncomfortably in my sit. I cannot be getting a hard on at seven in the morning, at the docks, arguing with my tutor. That is just not possible.
Haley shakes her head, drops the pen, leans forwards and looks at me straight in the eye. Her eyes had turned darker. Less hazel, more like chocolates. I suddenly feel my mouth watering.
Dammit. It is possible. I try not to squirm so much.
"Nathan, I can't okay."
Suddenly, it's my turn to scowl at her. "It's only for a week. Then we can change back the schedule to seven. Six thirty if you really want to punish me." The more I'm thinking about this, the more it's actually making sense. I need to somehow distance myself from her, concentrate on the game and maybe then I can still possibly, hopefully salvage the tattered remains of The Plan.
If I could just get myself away from Haley James, just for a week, then I might be able to come up with something that would actually work. I mean, this liking Haley thing had been so sudden it blasted a hole right through what was supposed to be a guilt-free plan. Besides this would at the very least get my dad off my back. He's been pretty vocal on how I distracted I've been this past couple of weeks and I'm mostly certain that Haley James has a lot to do with that.
"Nathan, I'm sorry but this is my only free schedule, alright."
It's a lie. I know it. She's never good lying, like the time she denied that she was staring at me and I so totally caught her. She would not meet my eyes then and her cheeks were bright pink, her lips caught between her teeth.
Oh, yeah, Haley James is definitely not telling me truth and I know this is going to sound incredibly hypocritical of me but I don't care. I don't like it that Haley is lying to me. I don't like at all. For some strange reason, this really sets me off. And more than that, I have a good idea why she's tutoring me at this ungodly hour. It's been the reason from the very start and I know it's petty but dammit, why does everything have to be about the bastard son of a bitch.
"No it's not." I tell Haley, crossing my arms and scowling darkly at her. "The only reason you're making me wake up at six in the morning is because you don't want Lucas to find out that you're tutoring me. Well, I'm not your dirty little secret anymore, Lucas knows so I don't see any reason why we still have to meet up this early." As soon as the words 'dirty little secret' went flying out of my mouth, I knew I've said the wrong thing and for the record, I am chalking it all up to sexual frustration.
It has just never been my strong suit, thinking before opening my mouth. I tend to say the first thing that comes to me and the funny thing is, most of the time, I don't even mean them at all. If she punches me, I have to remember not to duck, besides the fact that I deserve it, maybe she'd forgive me if I do sport a black eye just to satisfy her curiosity.
I watch as Haley's eyes flashes, going from warm to totally arctic. And it just about killed me right there. I don't like the look she's giving me. It's the disappointed 'I should have known' look. I rather that she knocks me unconscious than have her look at me like that.
"Haley," I quietly start off, "I didn't mean it that way. I just…"
Haley sighs, shakes her head and says, "Fine, then you can go look for another tutor,"
I sit there stunned speechless, feeling my eyes go wide. New what? Did she just said tutor?
"Whoa. Wait a second-" I want to take it all back and tell her that it's okay. In fact, maybe she'd like to tutor me at six in the morning. I can certainly get up three hours earlier but the words are stuck in my mouth.
"I am telling you Nathan, this is my only free schedule. And you know what, you're right," Haley continues, her face getting redder by the second and it's not the gentle blush that I like so much, but an angry rush of red, "I can't and won't tutor you in the afternoon or in the evening because that's about the only time Lucas and I ever have the time to talk or spend some time together. And I know you don't want to hear this but I kind of miss my best friend and I'm just about done playing this stupid tug of war game." Haley huffs and puffs a little before quietly settling down on her chair, all the fight gone from her body. She wordlessly pushes the practice test towards me, her bracelet catching my eyes. "Answer that."
"Haley, I…"
Haley lifts her head to look me in the eye and I feel myself wincing at how tired she suddenly looked. "I'm sorry Nathan, just answer that, please." And then she refused to even look or talk to me.
We spent the remaining hour in complete, utter silence.
This is bad. Real bad.
And just when I think it couldn't get any worst, when it was time for us to leave, she simply got up, took my practice test and walked away without even saying goodbye. I stood up, called her name in that pathetic, no-wait-don't-go voice that I just hate and never, ever use but she didn't even look back. She just kept on walking.
I sigh and heavily sit back down.
Well, this sucks. Today is only Monday and if this was how it's going to be for the rest of the week before she hands me over to a new tutor - and I'm sure she'd find one for me, she's not about to let my grades slip - then I am so screwed.
I so freakin' hate Mondays.
-tbc-