To those who wont Hayley to stop being stubborn and go be with Nathan.. Please don't kill me.. but that wont happen.. well not in this story.. Sorry

Next Chapter is the last chapter..

There might be a sequel so please review me what you think of this story..

Hayley's P.O.V

"Why won't you just call him?"

"Because there is nothing to say."

"I think there is!"

"What would you know, Peyton? Were you there? Did you hear everything that was said?"

"I didn't need to be there to understand that you're a stubborn git and Nathan was probably only trying to talk some sense into that thick head of yours."

"You're treading into very dangerous waters, Sawyer."

"I don't give a flying - "

"Oh, will the both of you please SHUT UP"

Simultaneously, Peyton and I shot death glares in Brooke's direction, our eyes burning with a shared yet completely separate infuriation. My hands were trembling, and my chest felt as though it was about to explode - things I'd been experiencing for the past three days, ever since I'd walked out of Nathan's flat without looking back.

Only I had looked back, just not in the literal sense of the word. I'd spent hours, sometimes even whole nights contemplating what had happened between us, wondering if I'd made the right decision or if it was all a terrible mistake that could never be undone. But then, as always, logic and rationality had set in, replacing the doubts and worries that constantly danced across my mind, offering me a few moments of uninterrupted peace. It never would have worked out anyway, I often told myself on such nights. The distance, remember the distance.

Sometimes, though, that logic wouldn't hold over in my dreams, the one grey area of my life I couldn't seem to control. Nathan's face would swim through my subconscious, sometimes smiling, eyes twinkling; other times, those unfamiliar eyes I had seen that last day would be sweeping over me, his face cold and impassive. I had found my dreams to be rather unsettling the past few nights, although I somehow preferred them to my waking hours.

"I'm just trying to get her to understand that she made a mistake," Peyton said fiercely, her eyes flashing.

Brooke sighed, pushing her dark hair out of her face. "I don't think we should talk about this anymore. This is Hayley's business, not ours."

"Hayley's well-being is our business," Peyton argued. "I don't want her to leave tomorrow with a million regrets resting on her shoulders."

"You know," I said at last, feeling oddly even-tempered, "I'm sitting right here."

"Hayley, will you just listen to reason for once in your life?" Peyton pleaded, her honey eyes staring straight into my brown depths, wide and unblinking. "You're going to regret this every day of your life if you don't do something about it now."

"The only thing I regret is not doing this sooner," I said, my voice cold and emotionless. "Maybe then I could have saved him some grief."

Peyton stared at me, disbelief lining her face, her honey eyes sad and tired. "You don't believe that any more than I do," she persisted, shaking her head. "I know you don't."

"You can think whatever you like, Peyton. The fact of the matter is that Nathan and I are over, and I'm not sorry." I turned away from her then, unable to keep looking into those eyes that saw straight through my lies, straight through the walls I had built around myself, the walls that I knew would soon collapse if this conversation continued.

"Fine," she said at last, throwing her hands up in defeat. "Throw away the best thing that's ever happened to you. When you see photographs of Nathan with a girl that isn't you in the papers, we'll see how you'll feel then. But I promise, I won't be there to say I told you so."

Brooke closed her magazine, her expression indifferent and unreadable. Peyton turned her head away from me, instead focusing her attention on a rather peculiar spot on the wall. And I sat there, my throat constricting, holding the power to change everything in my hands, yet being completely powerless to do anything about it. That's how it had always been with me, and that's how it would always be. My whole life I'd cheated myself out of happiness, preferring negativity and cynicism instead. As I sat there, my eyes burning, I knew I would never change. And that, perhaps, was what bothered me the most.

I had anticipated my departure from North Carolina from the moment I had set foot inside of the country. Even after I had grown fond of the landscape, the rainy days and the people I constantly found myself surrounded by, the end was always in my peripheral vision, faintly visible amidst the laughter and smiles and sheets I found myself tangled in, blue eyes staring into my own. Then it had always been months away, something I hadn't allowed myself to worry about. But slowly the months faded into weeks, weeks turned quickly into days, until the days dwindled down into nothing but mere hours, my hands shaking as I threw another sweater into my overflowing suitcase.

I was not ready to leave; this I knew, and understood, well. With every article of clothing that was thrown into my suitcase, my chest pulled a bit tighter, the lump forming within my throat growing a bit larger. My eyes burned and my lip trembled, but I had not allowed myself to shed a single tear. I was too strong, I told myself. Too strong, too proud to cry. It wouldn't solve anything, anyway. It wouldn't change the fact that in three hours, I would be on a plane that would carry me back across the states, placing me right back where I had started only months before.

A part of me longed to put my sweaters, jeans and T-shirts back into the dresser drawers they had resided in since June, but an even bigger part of me wanted to keep packing them into the suitcase so I could get away faster, away from scents and sounds and sights that reminded me of the one thing I wanted to forget. I couldn't stand being so close to Nathan, nothing but a short drive away, after everything had happened. It would be easier to forget about him once I was gone, a few miles stretching between us and the memories that lingered there.

Peyton had finally abandoned her quest to reunite Nathan and I, gradually coming to the realization that I was a hopeless cause. Brooke, as always, had remained quiet and impassive, allowing me to make my own choices, regardless of how foolish she might have believed me to be. That was something I had always loved about my best friend; she always let me come to my own conclusions, even the bad ones.

The small scrapbook I had kept while in Tree Hill was lying on my bed, half-opened, waiting patiently to be tucked away inside of my suitcase, buried beneath a million other memories I was attempting to repress. Cautiously, I lifted it from the mattress and allowed my eyes to linger over the faces of the people I would miss more than anything once I'd gone. It was still strange to think of daily life without them in it - breakfasts without playfully bantering with Peyton; slightly inebriated conversations with Jake, Lucas and Rachel; long, quiet walks with Nathan, his hand wrapped securely around my own, his eyes twinkling with a love I knew we both felt deep within our bones.

As I sat there, staring at the photographic evidence of my transformation, I could not believe how time had managed to fly by so quickly, like everything had just whizzed past me in a blur of color and sounds. In one sense, it seemed as though my arrival in Tree Hill North Carolina had happened years ago, as though I had spent the better portion of my life engulfed in the world I was preparing to leave behind. Yet, almost at the same time, things like the after party, my father's wedding and Brooke's arrival seemed to have happened mere minutes ago. It didn't seem as though weeks upon weeks had passed since those pieces of my memory had occurred, and as I sat there I couldn't believe that in a few weeks I would be at New York University, surrounded by people and noises and scents I wouldn't recognize.

The clock on my bedside table was telling me that I had only ten minutes before I would have to leave for the airport. Everything was ending now, drawing to a close; those numbers on the clock confirmed that for me, made me realize that it was time for me to go, time to set off on my own adventures. It was time for me to be the woman I was rapidly blossoming into, time for me to hold my head high and walk away from everything, time for me to understand and realize that the credits were rolling and it was time for me to leave the theater.

But as I gathered my suitcase and walked out into the hallway, my eyes lingering on the room I had called my own during the warm days of summer, I was hoping desperately for a surprise ending, one that came after the credits had finished. I was hoping for him to come after me, to stop me, to tell me again that he loved me and couldn't live without me. I wanted the cliche ending; I wanted sparks and thrown luggage and an embrace that would sweep me off of my feet. Walking down the stairs, through the sitting room, out the front door, and finally inside of the car, I realized that I wanted the fairytale.

The airport was overflowing with travelers when I arrived, a chaotic gathering of suitcases, business suits and frustrated sighs escaping thin lips. The tension hanging in the air was tangible; I felt as though I could almost wrap my fingers around the anguished cries of infants, the agitated shouts of anxious mothers, and the squeaking and clanging of suitcases and other luggage as they were rolled along the shining floor.

My own silent trepidation was slowly creeping upon me, running rampant through my veins, creating a whirlwind of doubts and anxieties reeling through my mind. As I neared ever closer to the security checkpoint, my heartbeat began to increase in speed and my hands began to shake uncontrollably, a nervous habit that I could never seem to rid myself of. I stared into the faces of my fellow travelers, weighed down by bags and stress; I swallowed hard, my nerves getting the best of me.

Subconsciously, I found myself searching for a pair of penetrating blue eyes, eyes that sparkled and twinkled with an odd combination of mischief and determination. Eyes that could see right through the barriers I had placed within my own brown pools, eyes that could break past those barriers and penetrate my deepest thoughts and secrets. My time was running out, and I had half-expected him to be there, his eyes fierce and blazing, begging me not to go. But as my eyes traveled along the faces that whizzed past me, I did not find what I had been searching for. He wasn't there. He wasn't coming.

"Are you sure you've packed everything, dear?" Aunt Karen asked from beside me, a few loose pieces of her hair spilling around her face from her messy bun. She appeared slightly harassed, her eyes wide and searching, her lips drawn in a straight, thin line.

I nodded, allowing a faint smile to spread across my lips. "Yeah, I've got everything."

"I just feel like we're forgetting something," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. I looked at her, silently agreeing; I was forgetting something, something I knew I'd never find again.

Brooke, dragging her own suitcase behind her, smiled cheerfully in my direction. "Ready to go home, Hayley?" she asked, her smile wide.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, shooting a sideways glance at Peyton. She hadn't said much at all since we'd left her house, and I couldn't help but notice how strange that was for her.

"Peyton?" I said tentatively, my eyes searching hers. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Fine." She didn't look at me, instead focusing her vision on the security checkpoint that was mere feet in front of us.

"You don't seem fine," I pressed, a lump forming in my throat as we neared the checkpoint.

She looked at me then, her honey eyes shining with unshed tears. Without warning, she threw her arms around me and began sobbing into my shoulder, her cries choked and muffled.

"Peyton," I said, surprise still lingering in my voice, "what's the matter?"

"You're leaving and I don't want to say goodbye," she cried, her tears soaking through my T-shirt. "I can't say goodbye."

"Remember what you told me before? This isn't goodbye. This isn't the end. You'll visit me in New York, right? That's what you said, remember?"

"I remember," she said, her sobs subsiding considerably. She looked up at me then, tears clinging to her eyelashes. "You're my best friend. The sister I never had. I don't know what I'm going to do without you here everyday."

I could feel tears of my own starting to fill my eyes, but I blinked them away, unwilling to display that kind of emotion in such a large public setting. Instead I hugged her tighter, trying desperately to reassure and comfort her.

"You'll get through it," I promised her. "You can call me anytime. You can email me. You can visit me whenever you're able to. And...I'll come back and visit too, okay? This is only temporary. It's not permanent. It's not like we're never going to see each other again."

"I know," she replied, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I'm just...I'm really going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you, too," I said, hugging her once more.

"Hayley," Brooke said from beside me, her smile no longer cheerful. "Our flight is leaving soon. We've got to start going through security."

I nodded, disentangling myself from Peyton after a final bone-crushing hug. I slowly made my way over to Aunt Karen, who had tears sparkling in her eyes.

She wrapped me in one of her motherly embraces, her hands smoothing my hair like my mother used to do when I was little. "Have a safe trip, dear," she said to me, letting go of me all too soon. "And be sure to call us once you've arrived home."

I nodded, feeling the tears prickling the corners of my eyes. "I will," I promised, my eyes lingering over my aunt and cousin as I slowly slipped closer to the checkpoint, my feet heavy.

I ingrained their faces into my memory as they waved goodbye to me, holding onto each other for support. They both wore sad smiles, their eyes shining with tears, cheeks stained from those that had already fallen. I raised my hand in farewell as Brooke entered security, motioning for me to follow.

I turned away then, ripping my eyes away from Aunt Karen and Peyton and their sad smiles. Summer was over, I knew, as I passed through security, dragging my bag filled with memories behind me. I didn't allow myself to look back, to search for those eyes I had hoped I would find. I realized then that I loved him, truly loved him with every fiber of my being, loved him more than I could ever begin to understand or describe. I had been too stubborn, too afraid to admit it before, but if he had been there then, pleading with me not to go, I would have stayed. I would have given up everything for him, my dreams, my ambitions, my life. I would have given it all away if it meant being with him, his lips against mine, skin against skin.

But he wasn't there, and he wasn't asking me to stay. So I looked forward towards the terminal, a lone tear falling from my eye and traveling slowly down my face, finally dying in a salty explosion on my lips.