"He's in," Nathan says, closing the car door.
Haley looks around the empty driveway. "How do you know?"
He jerks his head towards the garage, twirling his key ring around his finger. "Door's down."
They step into the house hand-in-hand, the sound of the door closing hollow in the quiet.
Haley traces her thumb up and down along the back of his hand as she looks around. "Maybe—"
"Where the hell have you been?"
Dan stomps out of the living room, his voice booming across the foyer. Something in his eyes sends Haley's heart ramming hard against her ribcage.
"I've barely seen you and it must have escaped you that you have a father."
When he notices her, his eyes narrow before focusing back on Nathan. "Whitey may have cancelled practice, but don't think you get to sit around having fun. Grab your gear. You have a lot of time to make up for. Where have you been going every day for the past week after school? Did you get a job that I don't know about?"
Nathan thrusts the yellow envelope at him. "Yes."
Dan stares at him before snatching the envelope out of his hand. "What is this?"
Without answering, Nathan leads Haley towards the staircase. Behind them, Dan lets out a loud laugh, a dry and evil sound that sends a chill down Haley's spine. "Emancipation?"
Dan shifts his gaze to her when they face him, studying her with such frostiness that her mouth goes dry, her heart leaping to her throat. If looks could kill, she would be charred barbecue.
"So you're the one who has been filling my son's head with delusions and fantasies."
Somehow, she finds the courage to say, "He deserves to be happy, Mr. Scott."
That same menacing and mocking laugh tears across the hall. "Happy? Happy? You're welcome, son, for never going hungry or sleeping out in the cold."
"That's not enough to—"
"Shut up!" he roars.
"Don't talk to her like that!" Nathan yells. "She has done more for me than you have, Dad."
Dan shakes his head, face pinched with disgust and anger. "She has, has she? Did she feed you? Clothe you? Put a roof over your head?"
"I appreciate all that, but I'm leaving."
"Listen to me, Nathan. You have a great life, a beautiful home and a basketball pedigree any kid would die for."
"Yeah. I know," Nathan says flatly.
Casting Nathan a dark, piercing look, Dan moves to the table by the staircase, pulling open the drawer. "Betrayed by my own son because he's trying to impress some girl."
He handles the document roughly like he could rip it apart. His eyes flick back and forth speedily as he scans through it, and like in fury, he scrawls his signature on two separate pages. Then he slaps the document against Nathan's chest. Haley is surprised that it was so easy for him to sign them. She expected a wage war that would leave one of them drained to the bone.
"If this is how you want it, I don't think you should be living under my roof, either."
"I just came by for my things," Nathan says unemotionally.
His hand in Haley's is steady, unlike her trembling one. How Nathan managed all these years without going mad is beyond comprehension.
"You ungrateful, ungrateful brat. You are going to break your mother's heart."
Nathan stiffens, glancing down at his father. "I haven't seen her in months. I doubt she'll be as affected as you may think."
"Have you thought this through? What it's going to do to your game?"
"My game. Of course."
Dan looks Nathan up and down with a sneer. "Maybe I picked the wrong son, after all."
Haley gasps softly, feeling like she's been slapped. Nathan, in contrast, doesn't seem fazed by it.
He tugs at her hand, saying in a casual tone, "Let's go."
"Remember that I know your secrets, Nathan."
They both freeze.
"The doctor ran a few tests before you skipped out of the hospital. I told him that no son of mine takes anabolic steroids when his basketball career is on the line."
Dan's lips curl in a devious smirk. He looks victorious, as if he's enjoying himself.
"Playing house costs a lot of money, you know. I give you a week out in the real world, and I'll be there for you when you hit rock bottom," he adds with fake, insincere concern. "And you will."
Haley's eyes are fixated on his back as he retreats. She wants to throw something at him, to see him hurt as much as he hurt Nathan.
They head upstairs to Nathan's room. There's an expression of thorough determination on his face as he looks around the bedroom.
"I have a couple of cardboard boxes in the closet," he says.
She ponders asking if he's okay, but thinks better of it; that would be a stupid question. "Where do you want me to start?"
Hands on the closet knobs, he looks at her over his shoulder, lips twisted in a diminutive smile. "We could pack up everything before moving them to the car, or pack as we carry them out one by one."
"First one sounds better."
They work considerably fast, putting away the electronics, books, CDs and DVDs in the boxes. The rest they lug as they are to the car, clothes still in hangers and shoes piled in their arms.
Dan stays out of the way, the television blaring from a basketball game he's watching. Haley reckons that he's drowning them out, trying to make them uncomfortable for what they're doing.
"No family albums?" she asks after loading the last box into the car.
They're both sweating after moving everything in a little under an hour. They have crammed everything into the trunk and the back seat of the convertible. The car's narrow space means that things are piled on top of and in between each other.
Nathan shoots a glance at the house. "Nothing of importance."
He sighs, looking around like he's memorizing his childhood home before beginning another chapter of his life.
"On my seventh birthday, my dad took me to a basketball game and I missed my own party. You know what he said when we returned home and everyone was gone? 'You don't need to impress them, Nathan. Parties are for losers, anyway.'"
He looks at her, his eyes revealing the hurt he must have felt on that day. "I don't want keepsakes reminding me of moments like those."
She nods, taking a shallow breath and swallowing hard over the lump in her throat. "The one time you need me most and my parents are in town."
"Don't worry about it. Uncle Keith's spare room will do while I look for an apartment."
Nathan is silent for a moment. "You know, I didn't think that he would be the one to help me out considering that we barely know each other."
"Keith's a great guy. He's been a father to Lucas."
"Lucky Lucas," he says with a smile, but there's a hint of sorrow in his eyes.
"You're going to be lucky, too, from here on out," she says, her hands resting on either side of his waist.
"My luck changed when I met you."
She just wants to weep at how things are turning out for him. It may be for the best, but bad things have pushed him to breaking it off with the two people who are supposed to love him undeniably.
She must look sullen because he puts his arms around her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. She hugs him tight, shutting her eyes and burrowing her face in his shirt.
"I'll be okay, Hales. I'll be fine."
Thinking back on what Dan said to him as they walked upstairs, she's instantly filled with horror. "How could he say that?" she says in a hoarse whisper. "Like you're a…a car he can trade in for another."
"It's the kind of spiteful and horrible guy he is. Frankly, it doesn't bother me much anymore when he says rubbish like that."
She raises her head from his chest to look up at him. "He's told you that before?"
He shrugs, but it's answer enough. Once, twice, thrice, it doesn't matter; he made Nathan seem worthless.
"I've been going to camps run by former pro athletes since I was ten, started a diet approved by a nutritionist at twelve, talked to my first college scout at fourteen, and trained every day for as long as I can remember while my dad told me about the coming fame and fortune. I need a break from chasing that dream his way. I'm tired of him relieving his glory days through me."
A spasm ripples through her gut. She just feels relieved that he's leaving.
He pats the door of the convertible. "I gotta find a buyer for this."
"It's too pretty not to sell like hot cakes," she tells him, opening her door.
"I hope you're right."
Before buckling in, she sets a box on her lap and manoeuvres her feet through a couple of shoes on the floor mat.
"You okay there?" Nathan asks humorously.
"You see these gigantic shoes at my feet? It would be terribly easy to pick one up and chuck it at you."
He laughs, turning the ignition. As he pulls out of the driveway and towards the street, he doesn't even take a last look at the big house in the rear view mirror.
"Next time you should sign up," Nathan says.
The auditorium is emptying out but they aren't moving, waiting for Peyton to exit the backstage.
"To give myself a chance to choke? No, thank you. I—"
Her eyes meet Brooke's, and she feels the disquiet scramble up inside of her. Instant dislike flares in Brooke's, and her forehead puckers slightly.
Haley averts her eyes, trying to refuse Brooke's antagonism from getting under her skin. "I, um, I would rather be a spectator."
Nathan casts a look to where her gaze was, a small smile stretching across his lips when he turns to her. "Ignore her."
"I'm planning to. What have you been thinking about?" she asks, her brain recouping some more.
He's been reserved and quiet since afternoon, appearing distracted throughout the show. He moved out of home today, so it stands to reason that he's not euphoric.
"My dad," he says quietly, releasing a long sigh.
Her eyes roam his face, the resignation and sadness so intense that she reaches out for his hand and twines their fingers together, out of a need of some physical contact. "Would he do that? Call up scouts and tell them you took steroids?"
He's thoughtful for a few seconds, and then shakes his head. "I doubt it. I'm his chance at being in the pros, and if he ruined that, it would be a sick way of him ruining his life, too."
She catches the look of uncertainty that passes over his face. "But you're worried."
She raises her finger, lightly tracing it over the crease between his eyebrows. "I see it here."
His smile turns crooked. "You shouldn't know that look yet."
His eyes drift away, that shadow of glumness still in them. "But you're right. This is the same guy who acted like a drill sergeant while coaching our little league and made Max Samson cry."
Silence reigns between them for a few moments and then Nathan shakes his head, slumping forward slightly. "I'm leaning on him not saying a word, but I wouldn't be surprised if he actually did it."
"What happened that made him turn out like that? Has he always been so…"
She goes silent, unsure of how to word it.
"Controlling and bitter?" Nathan says. "Regrets. He has a lot of them."
He sighs, tunnelling his fingers through his hair. "I know I made a mistake taking those steroids, but I don't want it to affect my chances at college or the pros. I told Luke as much, and he promised to keep it to himself if I promised him not to be so stupid again."
From what Nathan told her, and from her talk later on with Lucas, Luke could have knocked him out after he admitted to taking the steroids.
He's stuck to the story about dehydration, especially to keep the truth from Coach Durham. Unless Dan tells on him, no one will know about the drugs.
"Where did you get them?"
He gives her a rueful look for a stretched second. "Online."
She finds it insane that he bought them over the internet, and trusted that what he got would be what he'd ordered. Heaven knows what a merciless seller would've sent instead for uncouth laughs.
After that slight pause, she exhales and leans back. Then she turns her head until she's holding his gaze. He's looking at her expectantly, and in that moment, she could let the words of love rattling around inside her burn through. But she doesn't have enough sense for that yet.
"I…I care about you, Nathan. I don't want you to get hurt."
Gripping her hand, he lets out a long breath through his nose and says, "I'm done with that."
He moves in first, and she meets him halfway, lips kissing. Hands held, they sit quietly, but there is no tension.
"It's sweet that you waited for me."
Peyton comes into sight from the left wing of the stage, backpack over her shoulder, still dressed in the corset, short skirt and fishnet stockings.
"Bravo, blondie," Haley calls out, her voice carrying around the deserted auditorium.
Peyton bows slightly as she comes up the steps. "Thank you."
"Third place. Not bad, Sawyer," Nathan says.
She waves the white envelope in her hand, grinning widely. "I could do damage at the record store with this."
Haley points a finger in mock-warning at her friend. "After you buy me that root beer float for not believing me."
"I didn't win."
"You have a hundred dollars. That's not a loss."
Peyton sticks her tongue out, flicking the envelope over Haley's forehead. "I'll be generous enough to use it to celebrate Nate's acquired freedom."
Slinging her purse over her shoulder, Haley catches him stride out of the auditorium. He is a lot more resilient than he gives himself credit for. He's going to be okay.
"Do we get to pick what to eat? Because I really want to try that new ice-cream shop."
"Only this one time will I let you be a choosy beggar."
Just as they step out of the open doors at the top of the staircase, the auditorium lights go off. The parking lot is less crowded than it was earlier, but there are still people lingering, chatting and laughing in groups. Over by Luke's truck a few yards from the auditorium steps, Luke, Skills and Nathan are squabbling while trying to manoeuvre a large chest into the back of the truck.
With a once-over at Peyton's outfit, Haley says, "I probably shouldn't ask why you're still wearing your costume."
Peyton just squeezes her shoulder and chuckles with wicked mischief.