Chapter 6
Haley and Nathan rushed into the front door together, slamming it behind them. The
sound of dripping water echoed through the dark entryway. "Let's go upstairs,"
she said motioning upward with the hand they shared. "That's where all of the
candles are lit." She started towards the staircase as he wondered how on earth
he could be in such a negative mindset right now that he didn't have a
suggestive comment to offer about that. They were going up to her romantically
lit bedroom, and he had nothing. Yet another reason to hate his parents right
now, he groaned.
"Nathan, sit down," she said signally towards the bed. "I'll go get some
towels." She began to walk into the dark hallway, stripping her sweater off in
the process and depositing it on the ground. He chuckled lightly. "What?" she
asked looking down at the pile of wet wool. She smiled slightly and responded,
"I'll pick it up…eventually." She flittered off towards the linen closet in the
hallway.
She was so cute, he thought as he wandered over to her bed. He decided he
couldn't sit on it though. Too much in his life was destroyed. He wasn't going
to start sullying her stuff too.
She walked back in carrying four big fluffy towels. "I'll trade you a towel for
an explanation," she said daggling one towel out in the air.
"I'm a Scott. Do I need an explanation?" he quipped.
"Nathan," she said dropping the towels, concern lining her voice, "what's going
on?"
He looked down; water still clinging to every part of him like the desperate
storm that just wouldn't go away. The cold gusts' cries still audible from
within Haley's walls. "I had to leave," he breathed. "They were screaming and
yelling so loud and they wanted me to choose. But they weren't even listening,"
he sighed, looking back up at her. She was slowly absorbing his words. She was
listening. "They weren't listening," he refocused. "Not to me or each other.
And god, Haley, everything is so bad. Everything sucks so much right now.
Everything but you." It was the truest thing he had said all night. Her lips
curved upwards, just for a moment. She tilted her head and waited, so patiently.
"So I ran out, and this is where I came," he finished, "just like last time."
He could tell his voice was waning, about to break from the intense emotions.
"Everything is falling apart."
She closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. Her arms circling around
his waist. Her small form molding into his. Their soaked, battered, and beaten
bodies relaxing against each other. "It'll get better." It was an awkward
response. A verbal filler intended for no other purpose but to carry a hopeful
sentiment in a hopeless situation.
"No. No, it won't Haley," he sighed. He knew why, he was just having difficulty
putting it into words. "It won't because…" He stopped and pulled slightly away
from her to search her eyes for judgment or ridicule. What he was about to say
seemed insane, and he couldn't make it through if she wasn't unconditional with
her feelings. She gazed back with confusion, no judgment, with patience, no
ridicule. "It's because I won't let it," he said slowly, the words finally
registering in his mind. "I'm going to pick my dad, Haley," he exhaled, "and I
don't know why. It's like he has this hold on me that I can't break," He pulled
her in close again, tears shining in his eyes. "I'll break my mother's heart
just so I won't disappoint him. I'll break myself," his voice faltering over
the words like a harsh pill, "just to…just to what? Make him happy?" he asked
fear and doubt swimming in his tone? "What is it? Why do I do this to myself?
Why do I keep knocking myself down?"
*****************
I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
Cause you presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone
******************
He was shaking now. Even Haley's warmth wasn't enough to put the shuddering to
rest. "I wish he would just go – just disappear -- because I can't leave him,"
he whispered into the slow air. A thought washed over him, trying its best to
blow him down. The voice, in his dream, it was so familiar. It was familiar
because it was his own. He was holding himself down.
He was forcing his body to the ground.
However, standing here in the dimly lit room, flooded with emotion and wetness,
with Haley in his arms, he was still upright.