I am so so sorry for being MIA. I had no intention of abandoning this story for this long, or at all, trust me.

In all honesty, since I am already essentially baring my soul to you guys with this story, I ended up getting myself wrapped up in a very brief but life-changing summer "romance" and it was completely unexpected and threw me completely off of everything. Bad news, it has ended. Good news, it just might inspire another personally charged Naley fic, LOL. Nonetheless, I am back to writing :)

Wild Eyes

The roar of the crowd is insane, echoing through the back corridors of the locker rooms. School spirited chants fill the air, followed by rhythmic stomping on the bleachers. The energy isn't like anything she's ever felt before, seeping into her bones and making her feel electrified.

This isn't the first year that the Ravens have made the playoffs—they make the playoffs every year. But this is the first year in ten years that they've been ranked as high as they are and the chances of them winning this year are exponential. It's all anyone could talk about as soon as the NCHSAA released the official standings and playoff schedule.

For the last week, basketball practice has been amped up, as well as her duties as Mr. Winter's student assistant. Mr. Winter has been so focused on the playoffs that Haley hasn't had a chance to detect any awkwardness between them. He hadn't made any more off-handed comments about her and Nathan, but it wasn't lost on her that in his own sly way, he kept them apart as much as possible.

She still can't let herself think anything of it. It's like a blockage in her brain, one that will crumble a bit only to resurrect even stronger a couple of seconds later.

She's never seen Nathan so focused on something before. Every time he stepped on to that court during practice, whether it was running a warm-up drill or practicing a play, he had that look of determination in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine.

Haley paces the long corridor by the locker rooms, her nail between her teeth. Her eyes keep darting back to the locker room door, waiting for it to squeak open. She's sure that it's a lost cause, there's no way that Nathan is going to be able to sneak away in order to see her. But she needs to see him, to make sure that he's okay and not putting too much pressure on himself.

Or, maybe she's the one that needs to be calmed down. She never really bought into the excitement of high school sports and school spirit, but then again, she's never had a personal connection to it. Not like this, not even with Lucas.

An arm loops around her waist and she squeals as it pulls her back. She knows exactly who it is before her back is flat against the cinderblock wall. Lost in her thoughts, she must have missed him coming out of the locker room.

"What are you doing out here?" Nathan asks a kink in his brow and his arm resting above her head.

"I thought I would wish you luck," she says with a cheeky smile, sliding her hands up his chest. The material of his warm-ups is cool and silky beneath her palms. "I hope I didn't interrupt your meditating or yoga…whatever it is that you do before a game."

Nathan chuckles, slipping his fingers on the hand not resting on the wall through the loops in her jeans. "My pregame routine consists of imagining all of the things I'm going to do to you once the game is over."

She swats at his arm, but the husky tone and twinkle in his eye have her cheeks burning, stomach fluttering.

"Isn't that distracting?" she flirts back, wrapping her fingers in the collar of his shirt, pulling him down until their noses are touching.

He inhales sharply, his lips parting. "Some say distracting, I say motivating," he mumbles before sealing his lips over hers.

Haley melts into him, sliding her hands over his shoulders and around his neck. Using his hips, he pushes her back against the wall but keeps fingers tangled in her belt loops. She moans softly when his tongue lightly flicks her bottom lip and she slowly loses track of time and place.

But before she gets too lost in the kiss and her thoughts start crossing the line of indecency (like imaging Nathan taking her up against the wall right here, right now…which she is definitely not thinking about. Not at all.) she pulls away.

The loss of him is imminent and his parted and slightly swollen lips make her want to kiss him all over again. His dazed expression matches her, the sound of their heavy breathing filling the empty hall.

"In all seriousness, how are you holding up?" she asks when she finally gets control of her breathing.

Much to her surprise, Nathan had been relatively quiet about the playoffs and the subsequent pressure from his teammates, the school, and his father. The only signs of stress that she saw in him was the need he showed to practice as much as he possibly could. But when she asked him about it, all he said was he needed to focus and it was a waste of time to give any of his attention to things that took that focus away.

"I'm fine," he says, mouth tipping into a slight smile.

"Are you sure? I mean…I've heard the things people are saying around school and I can only imagine how much pressure that puts on you. Then when you pair it with your dad sitting front row and—"

"I don't let it get to me."

She lets her eyes widen, just like they have every time he says something like that. She'll never understand how he can be so calm about things that would cause her to have an ulcer. Maybe two.

"How?"

Nathan sighs, squeezing her waist. He takes a few seconds to collect his thoughts like he knows what his answer is, he just doesn't know how to say it.

"I know this probably doesn't make a lot of sense given…everything." He waves a hand through the air. "But when I step out on that court, everything melts away. I don't think about anything other than me, the ball, and the end goal. And no matter what happens, I know that I gave a hundred and fifteen percent."

Haley blinks a few times. "You're right— that doesn't make a lot of sense."

Nathan chuckles and smiles, but it fades a few seconds later. "I wasn't always like that and it's taken me a long time to get here. Even so, I still have moments. It's a lot easier said than done."

She nods in understanding before shooting him a knowing look. "I feel like that could and probably should be applied to other aspects of your life."

"You're probably right," Nathan laughs and she smiles at the sound.

"You notice anything?"

He follows the wave of her hand as she gestures towards her body. She watches at the recognition forms on his face. His eyes darken a single eyebrow raising.

"You're wearing my jersey number now."

Wearing his jersey number is a bold statement, but she loves the buzz that comes along with it. It's her version of painting the blue and black number on her cheek, although she had considered doing that, too, but figured it would be overkill. It doesn't hurt that the duplicate of his jersey is a size smaller than the number zero that she was wearing, clinging to her figure in all of the right ways.

"I thought it might bring you a little extra luck," she purrs, running her fingers a lot his chest. His smirk grows.

"You already are my personal good luck charm, but you look even hotter with my jersey number. Just like I said you would."

His voice is like silk, caressing her skin and pulling her into a pool of desire.

He leans in to kiss her again, and she stretches on the tips of her toes to meet him halfway. She parts her lips and tightens her arms around his neck. When he presses his lips against hers, it's slow and sensual, stealing her of breath and igniting her body.

Someone clears their throat. Loudly.

They jump apart. Nathan tenses, holding her gaze for a few seconds before swinging it over his shoulder. She doesn't need to look, his reaction alone tells her who interrupted them. She looks anyway, embarrassment taking precedent over any annoyance she might feel.

"Is this where you're supposed to be right now? Either of you?"

Mr. Winter's voice is sharp and authoritative. Haley's only heard him use that voice on a few occasions, mostly when his students cause too much of a disruption that he runs out of other options and patience. The anger in his locked gaze and clenched jaw matches the tone of his voice.

He doesn't give them a chance to answer and knowing his style, Haley knows anything they would have said would've just made things worse.

"Scott, back in the locker room. Now. Your teammates are waiting for their captain."

Nathan looks back at her. His stormy gaze melts a fraction by looking at her, but his jaw still pulses. She half expects him to argue or make some kind of snarky remark, but he doesn't even though she can tell it's taking everything in him not to.

"See you after the game?"

She nods. Her mouth is too dry to speak.

Nathan starts to walk away but pauses barely a half of an inch away from her. At first, she fears that he's about to stake his claim in a way that is surely going to make this situation worse. He surprises her by dropping his voice to a whisper and says something that she knows is only meant for her.

"I love you."

Just like the first time she heard him say, her body warms, but the tense atmosphere prevents her from feeling it deeply.

"I love you, too."

The silence that surrounds her and Mr. Winter after Nathan disappears back into the locker room is loud. Too loud. She avoids looking at him until the awkwardness burns too harshly for her to handle. Steeling herself, she meets his gaze. His expression hasn't changed, but he's not looking at her.

She doesn't know why, but she has a strong urge to apologize. Beg, if she has to, to make this situation right. The sting of getting in trouble flares in her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…." she fumbles, unsure of what to say.

Mr. Winter still doesn't look at her, eyes set on the wall behind her. He visibly takes a breath in, like he's calming himself.

"There is a lot riding on this game tonight, Haley. I can't afford to have you distracting my players. Again."

He rarely calls her by her first name and the way he says it hurts her like it's something forbidden and vile. Her shoulders slump, a lame attempt at trying to make herself disappear. The urge to defend herself is strong, the words sitting on the tip of her tongue. But she can't say them—they're stuck.

"Please don't be mad," she rushes out pathetically. It shouldn't even be a big deal, but the thought of him being mad at her for any reason doesn't sit well.

She has no idea how to navigate this. Mr. Winter doesn't raise his voice at her. He just doesn't. He doesn't get upset with her, not like this.

"I'm not mad. I'm just disappointed."

Somehow, that is so much worse.

~x~

The Ravens won easily with a twenty-five-point lead over the visiting team, sending them into the second round of the playoffs.

The excitement in the air has increased tenfold. It seeps into her veins, wiping her clean of all her worries, including the awkward moment with Mr. Winter earlier in the night. It's unlike anything she's ever experienced—this sense of pride for not only her school but also for Nathan. She's always been proud of him, but just like her excitement, it has increased immensely.

He was on fire tonight. His focus was as sharp as it's ever been, bleeding into the way he controlled the floor and aided his team wherever it was needed. Maybe his method of ignoring the pressure, no matter how he manages to do it, worked after all.

Haley's foot is tapping against the concrete as she waits for Nathan to come out of the locker room. Every time the door opens, she holds her breath only to let it out in disappointment when it's not him. She's starting to form an itch of fear that maybe Dan intercepted him again when finally she sees him.

Unlike the last time, he files out behind a few of the other seniors. Even if the dim lighting, she can see him grinning from ear to ear, laughing at something one of the other players said. Seeing him this happy is refreshing and makes her smile, but she's impatient.

As soon as he detaches himself from the other players, she runs over to him and launches herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. He catches her easily, laughing as he spins her around in the parking lot. His skin is still damp from his post-game shower, the smell of his shampoo, and body wash surrounding her.

"Congratulations! You were amazing!" she squeals when places her back on her feet. He keeps his arms wrapped around her as she pulls him in for a kiss by the collar of his shirt.

"I'm telling you…it was you in my jersey number," he mumbles against her lips.

"I disagree," she giggles as she pulls away. "It was all you."

Nathan shakes his head but doesn't argue. Keeping an arm around her waist, he leads her over to his mustang. He finally got it back from the shop, almost good as new. The only evidence of his dad's assault on the mustang is the slight difference in paint color on the new panels.

"What should we do to celebrate?"

"I've got a few ideas." He waggles his eyebrows at her and she barks out a laugh.

Haley rolls her eyes but doesn't ignore the fission of anticipation that races down her spine. If she felt like a sex-crazed kitten before sleeping with Nathan, she has no idea what to call herself now.

"Hm, so do I," she teases back as he reluctantly detaches himself from her, walking over to the driver's side. He kinks an eyebrow and she just giggles in response.

But as soon as they're in his car and Nathan reaches for his keys, it hits her. The only way she can describe it is a burning need, a thirst that she can't ignore.

She doesn't know whether to blame it on the adrenaline of watching Nathan play his heart out on the court until he secured the win. Or if it's the way he looks right now, with his damp hair and white t-shirt clinging to his body, carefree happiness to him. Then again, it could also be the suggestiveness in Whatever it is, on impulse, it has her twisting in her seat and grabbing him by the shirt, kissing him fiercely.

He responds instantly, a hand sliding against her cheek until his fingertips are just lightly pressing into her scalp. His thumb caresses the line of her jaw as he tilts his head, opening his mouth over hers. She pushes him for more, her mouth moving aggressively over his and relishes in the way he moans into her mouth.

The center console is preventing her from being as close to him as she craves, jabbing into her ribs and stomach. This intense need to feel him takes over her entire body. Without thinking, she pulls away from Nathan and climbs into his lap without any hiccups, surprisingly. She notices the surprise on his face, but she kisses him again before he has a chance to say something.

She fears that any interruption will have her second-guessing what she's doing.

Judging by the slight falter in his lips against her, he's been caught off guard. But he recovers quickly, one hand gripping her hip while the other one pulls through her hair. The almost feverish way they're kissing makes her dizzy.

She pulls her mouth away from his while she dips her hands beneath his shirt. She drags her lips down his neck, running her fingers along the contours of his stomach. His skin is hot beneath fingertips and his shuddering breath makes it all the better. Tracing her fingertips along the edge of his shorts, just barely dipping beneath the waistband causes Nathan's hips to jerk towards. She giggles.

"What has gotten into you?" he says through his ragged breathing. He's smirking, though, keeping his hand in her hair.

"You've unleashed a new side to me," she replies with a roll of her hips, a matching smirk forming on her face when he groans. She's surprising herself with her dominance and lack of embarrassment over the way she's practically throwing herself at him. "Are you complaining?"

"Fuck, no."

"Are you sure?"

Nathan grabs her hips and pulls her tight against him. Through the layer of her jeans and the silky layer of his shorts, she feels how hard he is. Her temperature spikes on cue. His desire for her never fails to both surprise her and turn her on at a level she didn't think it was possible.

"What do you think?" He breathes against her lips and she shivers, swallowing hard.

Without breaking eye contact, he pops the button on her jeans and pulls down the zipper. Her heartbeat pounds in her chest, her breathing shaky as she waits for the inevitable. In true Nathan fashion, he teases her until she's sobbing with need. His touch dances around her lower stomach, to her hips and inner thighs, each time getting closer and closer to where she aches.

"Don't tease me," she begs thickly. "Not this time."

He smirks before finally granting her the relief she needs. She loves when he's gentle like this, slow and deliberate, drawing out her pleasure and he knows it.

"Oh, God, right there." She tilts her head back, racking her fingers through his damp hair.

His arm is bent at an awkward angle and she's sitting as far back as she can on his thighs, the steering wheeling digging into her back. Neither of them seems to care or notice, the air around them charged with arousal that it's hard to think straight.

Nathan attaches his lips to the base of her throat, never once letting up on his soft circles. He kisses his way up the column of her throat, pausing to lick and suck on the spots he knows are the most sensitive. The pleasure inside of her builds and builds, as does the volume of her moans.

"Nathan, God, please."

"Come for me, baby," he rasps into her ear. His voice carries that dominant edge that she loves so much and almost instantly, she's shaking in his arms. Her eyes squeeze shut, her nails digging the round tops of his shoulders.

She slumps against him, digging her head into the crook his neck. A very thin layer of sweat sticks to her skin as she wills her heartbeat and heavy breathing to subside.

"I'll never understand how you're so good at this."

Nathan's chuckle ruffles her hair as he presses a kiss to her cheek. "Backseat?"

She surprises herself when she nods her head without hesitation. She never really thought she would be the type of girl to let her boyfriend finger her in the middle of a party or have sex with her boyfriend in the back of his car in the school parking lot, but here she is.

She likes this side of her—the wanton side that doesn't question the feelings she's feeling or how sexy she feels.

Climbing into the backseat of his car proves to be a lot harder than she expects. Her knee knocks against the center console, while it takes some wiggling to get her foot unstuck from the space between the seat and the center console. Behind her, she hears Nathan mutter a "shit" when he hits his head on the roof of his car.

They fall back against his leather seats, laughing. But it doesn't take long for the sexual charge in the air to return, tenfold.

It's her turn to say she wants to try something.

She doesn't know the first thing about giving a blow job, not that she knew anything except the very basic principles of any of the things they've done.

She vows to herself not to overthink as she reaches for Nathan's shorts. She can feel his eyes on her, curiosity, and desire swirling in their blue color. To preserve her own sanity, she starts off slow, slipping her hand into his shorts and boxers. She wraps her hand around him and starts a leisurely drag, touching him the way he likes.

"God, you know just how to touch me," he groans, breathing heavily.

His words give her the last bit of confidence she needs and the next thing she knows, she's pushing his short down his hips. It becomes clear to Nathan what she wants and his sharp intake of breath has butterflies swarming in her stomach.

"Haley, you don't—"

She shakes her head, smiling at him. She wants to do this.

Bowing her head, she parts her lips and takes him in her mouth.

"Holy fuck," he hisses, throwing his head back. Both of his hands disappear into her mess of curls and the muscles in his stomach visibly tighten.

She clears her head, letting herself follow the way his body responds to her, repeating the actions that he seems to like. His moans and words of encouragement keep her fueled. It's addicting, watching someone as strong-willed as Nathan become so unhinged by her.

His tug on her hair is gentle just as her jaw starts to lock. She keeps her mouth around him but looks up through her eyelashes.

"Fuck, I need to be inside of you."

Reluctantly, she releases him from her mouth, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. She goes to pull the jersey over her head, but he stops her and shakes his head. She cocks an eyebrow.

"Keep it on. Seeing my number on you is so fucking hot."

When she goes to lay back, Nathan stops her again.

"What?" she asks, breathless. The intense way he's looking at her is familiar—he has an idea and her stomach churns in anticipation.

He licks his lips. "I want you to ride me."

His cadence is sultry and seductive, like velvet caressing her skin. The tips of her ears burn, but she finds herself nodding. That nervous and insecure part of her starts to creep up, but she fights it down. Instead, she focuses on the raw desire she sees in Nathan. Without breaking his eye contact, she pulls her jeans and panties down her legs.

In just the jersey, she climbs on to his lap. She's shaking and the knots in her stomach are almost painful.

"Ride me, Hales," he repeats just as huskily. "Nice and slow."

She slides down on to him, her thighs quivering both from her nerves and the fervent pleasure that courses through her at him being inside of her.

"Grind your hips," he instructs and she does as she's told. He grips her hips in his hands and aids her movements. "Fuck, yes, just like that."

It doesn't take long for her to find a rhythm, her hips rolling against hers. He meets her every thrust, sending wave after wave of pleasure through her. She grips on to his shirt for leverage.

"Oh, God."

"You look so sexy like this," he says, leaning his head back against the headrest. The tendons in his neck are straining, the upper part of his chest splotchy. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna come."

A few seconds later, he jerks, her name falling from her lips. Watching him come undone, triggers her own orgasm and she practically shouts his name. It sounds must louder in the confined space of his car.

Haley rests her head on the curve of his shoulder, sighing softly at the feel of Nathan's fingers stroking her back. Her body is still trembling, heavy breaths expelling from her lips. After several seconds, her eyes flutter open. Through the back window of his car, she sees Mr. Winter coming out of the school. Her eyes widen and the bright glow floating around her shatters into a million pieces. The back of her neck flares.

"Shit!" Haley scrambles off his lap. "We need to go."

~x~

When she gets home from school on Monday, her mom's car is in the driveway. The sight of it is unsettling, leaving Haley feeling off as she walks in the front door. To someone else, it probably seems like such an insignificant detail. But she can't explain how her mom being home from work early set everything she feared into motion.

Her house is quiet…too quiet. Her mom hates the quiet, especially when she's home by herself. The TV is almost always on, or at the very least, the radio. That feeling in her gut that's been manifesting for the past few weeks blossoms fully, swallowing her whole.

She doesn't like the way her heart starts beating wildly in her chest and her palms start to sweat. Threatening music, like the type you hear in scary movies when the serial killer is close, plays in her head, her eyes frantically searching for the threat that she can't yet see.

Tentatively, Haley walks into the kitchen, her backpack falling off her shoulder at the sight in front of her. Lydia's sitting at the kitchen table, slouched with her hands tightly wound around her favorite coffee cup. Her eyes are cast down, settled on the one scratch in the oak her dad never got around to fixing.

That sight unnerves her even more than the car in the driveway.

"Where's dad?"

It's a safe question, one to fill the silence and to avoid whatever off-balance air is swirling around her. She's found herself asking it a lot lately, so much that it has become a part of her normal routine and right now she needs something to feel normal.

She locks eyes with Lydia and the wind pushes out of her—her knees buckling. The rims of her eyes are red and puffy, more unshed tears glistening in her eyes. This type of cry seems different than the one Haley saw in the bedroom days ago. It's deeper, raw…contained in a way that's lethal.

Was this the moment that everything was leading up to or is her mom going to feed her another excuse?

Lydia's shaky intake of breath breaks through the silence like shattered glass. Haley doesn't realize she's stumbling backward until her lower back connects with the counter. Her hands reach out behind her to steady herself, fingers flexing against the granite until her knuckles are white.

Now more than ever, she's not sure she can handle what's been hidden from her for so long, even though she begged for it before.

"You were right," Lydia whispers, focusing back on the table. "I have been keeping something from you."

The sound of her heart beating growing loud, rushing through her eyes.

"I shouldn't have been keeping things from you. Or, at least, I should have been more conscious about how you feel and tried to work this out in private, not dropping obvious hints. You're a teenager and I shouldn't expect you or even allow you to worry about your parents. Not like this, anyway."

She's rambling, but it should like she's talking to herself, her voice growing quieter with every word. Haley shifts on her feet, her patience waning thin.

"Mom, what's going on?"

When Lydia looks up at her again, Haley swallows the gulp in her throat. She expects her mom to beat around the bush so more, to start denying that there's anything going on.

She doesn't.

Her shoulders rise, her back bowing as she straightens her spine. Dropping her hands from her coffee mug, she folds them together and looks her dead in the eyes. In a much steadier voice than Haley has heard recently, Lydia drops the bomb.

"Your dad's been having an affair."

And just like that…. something in her, something that she can't name at the moment, shatters. The words that leave her mom's mouth sound foreign and take way too long to click inside of her brain in the correct order.

"What?!" Her yell is much louder than she expected, the strain evident.

"He's been seeing a woman from work." She continues in that same calm and collected voice as if she's discussing a business deal rather than her husband's infidelity.

"How long?"

"A couple of months."

Her head is spinning and everything around her seems distorted like she's dreaming and she's just now realizing it.

This can't be happening. There's no way this is her reality. She knew something terrible was going on—she felt it deep in her soul for weeks—but she would have never guessed this.

"How…how did you find out?"

"He was asleep one night when his phone started going off like crazy. I only checked it because it was late and I thought it might have been his work since it wouldn't be the first time."

For the first time since in weeks, she finally notices the pain in her mother's eyes. Even through all the crying and the weirdness, she never noticed it before. It's has settled itself deep inside of her, becoming a part of her.

The betrayal cuts deep—for both herself and her mother.

She wishes that she could console her mom, to say something that would make this okay. But her mind has been wiped clean. The only thing she can focus on is this pain inside of her—the pain and the absolute shock that has managed to turn her entire world upside down with just a couple of works.

But how do you deal with something like this? What is the appropriate response? She can't make sense of anything. Not right now.

She doesn't know how long she stands there, trembling and spinning and swaying. But then in an instant, she blinks and finds herself sitting next to her mom with her arms wrapped tightly around her. The tears pouring down her cheeks barely register in her head, nor do the muffled "I'm sorry's" that come out of both of their mouths.

~x~

"Are you sure you're okay?"

She drags her eyes away from the book in front of her to where Nathan is laying on the foot of his bed. She hasn't read a single word out of the book and she's pretty sure Nathan has noticed. He's been subtly asking her what's wrong since she's arrived, but she's been avoiding the question altogether.

His concerned eyes and downward slope of his mouth cause a burn in the back of her throat.

It felt like hours had passed before Haley let go of her mom—both of their cheeks stained with tears, blotches of red patterning their skin. The air around them was thick and loud with silence. Haley didn't know what to say and apparently Lydia didn't either.

Lydia had wiped her eyes and mumbled something about going over her sister's house. Despite her urge to ask questions and talk about what happens next, Haley let her go.

As soon as the front door closed, the silence threatened to suffocate Haley. She couldn't stand being in her house, everything suddenly feeling dirty and untouchable. And, she sure as hell wouldn't be able to handle being home when her dad got home from work.

So, she texted Nathan asking if she could come over and now here she sits, trying her hardest to distract herself.

It hasn't set it in yet, she doesn't think. She's teetering on this edge of everything seeming completely normal and reality threatening to crush her. One second she feels like she has a grip on things, and then the next she feels like she's unraveling.

Haley's nod is rusty, but she doesn't trust herself to speak without crying.

She doesn't want to tell him. Not yet, anyway. She needs to make sense of it first, in her own way. To come to terms with it before she says the words out loud.

Your dad's been having an affair.

How does someone just make sense of that?

For the vast majority of her life, her parent's marriage seemed fine. Happy, even. Sure, things had been rough between them lately, but no matter how rough things got, she always believed that they would make it through. Because they were Lydia and Jimmy and they just made sense.

Her father's betrayal is more than just a betrayal against his vows and his marriage. It's a betrayal against her because she knows he knows that she will always pick Lydia's side over his. And apparently, that's not enough for him to decide not to do something that's going to make her choose.

"You've been really quiet," he states as if she has no idea and she swallows hard.

"I'm just tired," she manages. It's a lame excuse and he looks ready to argue.

He looks like he's going to call her out on her lying, but something on her face must stop him. She breathes a sigh of relief when he finally looks away from her, his gaze no longer searching and penetrating the guard she has erected in a matter of hours.

"Want something to eat? There's a new sub place that opened up downtown. We could order from there?"

She's not sure she can stomach anything right now, but she nods anyway. Nathan offers her a weak smile, searching her face once more for some kind of hint before he crawls out of the bed and heads downstairs.

He's only gone a couple of seconds before his phone, which is resting on the bed in front of her, starts buzzing with one text message after another. She doesn't mean to look, but her eyes fall to his phone. She's not someone to go through another person's phone and she has no reason to go through Nathan's.

Even so, she doesn't realize that she's reading the texts until the words start swirling around in her brain.

It was Brooke's idea.

I just thought I would make it funnier.

Can we just talk about this, please? It's really not that big of a deal.

They appear innocent or at least, not something that should concern her. But the leave her feeling even more off-kilter than before.

~x~

A lot of her decisions lately are being made on a whim. For better or for worse, she doesn't mind it.

It's a moment of weakness, or maybe a moment of strength, when she becomes too tired to over-analyze everything. Too tired to think about the consequences that may arise or the raging insecurities that she has that try to throw her off course. These weird, grey-area moments, don't come often, but when they do, she takes advantage of them.

She's spent the last few months avoiding this, but deep down, she knew what was happening. The prompt she used to guide her writing wasn't just an inspiration piece, no matter how many times she told herself that. It meant something more, maybe not this exactly…but it was always something more.

With everything else going on in her life, she realizes that she needs this. She needs something that is just for herself and no one else. Everything else in her life has spiraled out of control and she used to thrive on control. This writing contest is the only thing she still has control over—her writing is the only thing she still has control over.

Tearing into Mr. Winter's classroom, adrenaline is pumping in her veins. They haven't spoken since the game on Friday, but right now, she just wants to ignore that ever happened. That moment doesn't fit into her mission right now.

She doesn't comprehend the way Mr. Winter tenses when she walks into his room. She doesn't comprehend his clenched jaw or hard-set eyes. She doesn't comprehend anything other than what she needs to say and why.

"I think I'm going to enter in the contest," she blurts out.

His head snaps up from his computer. For a split second, she thinks she sees him start to smile, surprise and elation flickering in his eyes. Barely a beat late, it's gone and replaced by a sharp indifference. He looks away as he speaks, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of him.

"That's great."

Like someone has poked her with a pin, she deflates.

"Is something wrong?"

His anticlimactic response stings. He's been pushing this writing contest on her for months and she expected him to be at least somewhat happy about her decision. But his…complete detachment hurts a lot more than it should. Maybe she should have expected it given everything, but that felt foolish. They've always had a relationship that was stable, a mentorship that felt like the only thing she had to turn on when things got rough sometimes.

She figured that this would be no different. But maybe she's just naïve. Again.

"No."

She stares at him, embarrassment creeping up inside of her. He's now busying himself with a pointless task, searching through the papers on his desk. It's like he's not even trying to cover up the fact that he doesn't want to talk to her.

The back of her throat burns, the overwhelming urge to cry rips at her. She doesn't understand what's happening, she just doesn't.

"He's changing you," Mr. Winter mumbles as she's about to walk out of his classroom.

"Who?" She turns around to face him. She already knows who he's referring to, but finds playing dumb safer.

"Nathan."

"No, he's not."

Her quick defense of Nathan hangs heavy in the air. Mr. Winter stares back at her almost like he's challenging her and gearing up for a fight. The burn in the back of her throat shifts to frustration and anger.

"I expected him to test me," he says slowly, a hard edge to his voice. "He's got that kind of reputation. But I didn't expect you to go along with his schemes to break the rules."

"If this is about before the game—"

"It's not just about that." His voice raises in volume and her eyes sting as she winces, slinking back. He's being so cold and authoritative, cruel like he wants to hurt her. "It's all the times he's late to practice and you stroll in with him. Or, all the times you've slacked in doing something I asked you to do because you're too busy gawking at Nathan or talking to him. That's not…that's not you."

Haley opens her mouth to protest, but she closes it when she sees him stand up. There's a fire in his eyes that she's never seen before, not even when he loses his patience with repeat offenders in his class. He digs through a pile on his desk with purpose this time and when he finds what he's looking, he slaps a piece of paper down in front of her.

"Now, he's got you slipping on your schoolwork."

The bright red "F" on her latest The Great Gatsby quiz glares back at her. She remembers that quiz. It was over chapters two and three, which she meant to finish reading at the river court while Nathan played. With his promposal and the subsequent teasing, she'd gotten distracted and forgot to finish reading.

At the time, she didn't see it as a big deal. It was one quiz and with the high percentage in Mr. Winter's class, she didn't see it affecting her overall grade that much. It's true, a couple of months ago, she would have never let something like that happen. But then again, her obsession with being perfect wasn't healthy.

But right now, standing in front of Mr. Winter, she feels ashamed, like she let him down in the worst way.

"He's a bad influence on you, HJ."

Mr. Winter says her nickname as if it's supposed to soften the blow like she's supposed to bow down to him because of that simple gesture.

But she doesn't. Instead, the clarity that she thought she'd gained becomes even more muddled than before.