I apologize for the late update and for the out of context chapter, but
I promise to get back into "typical" stride next time. It just feels
weird because I had to move things along a little faster and I'm not
very good at that.
Thanks very much to all the kind reviewers ( :
I would write for one, but it's nice to have a crowd. Thank you a lot
-THREE-
Lucas' heart was pounding so hard, surely everyone could hear it... difficult to breathe, he wet his lips for the thousandth time and shook a few strands of wet hair from his forehead.
Slo-mo. Slow motion-ah, the beauty and terror of it.
Nathan was in his element, the home crowd's roars surged, almost silent swish of perfect basket.
Whereas his brother seemed to ride the waves of sound, even rose to meet the attention with spectacular ease, Lucas flinched from the noise, the smell, the feel of thousands of eyes all intent upon him. Whitey said Lucas would learn to love this...it was intoxicating.
For the dozenth time he stole a glance toward the stands, hoping to spy Karen. Along with the nervous tingle in his body was the sharp pang of betrayal. She hadn't come.
He fumbled, almost tripped. One of the players had jostled him. Lucas swept his blue gaze out wards-knew it was a purposeful maneuver to unnerve him.
Almost laughed hysterically. "No need to try that, fellas, I can do that to myself, thank you very much..."
The ball, in his hands. Cool, inanimate. His chance. His shot...
Time...slipping toward eternity...silence
Coach Whitey slapping him on the shoulder, hard. Avoiding any scenery but the scuffed floor...
The breeze stirred stray leaves, red sunlight sparkling through the trees...discarded wrappers and empty pop cans. Reality.
Lucas slumped against a trunk, the rough bark earthy and reassuring. Closed his eyes. Felt the nausea fade.
He had to go to school tomorrow. He had to go home and deal with Karen's not-quite-direct stare. The things missing from his room. The team's dislike. The look on his father's face. Not cool, nor smug, nor mean. A nod and tight lipped smile that Lucas read as intended.
Like he'd lived up perfectly to Dan's expectations. Zero. Zero was what he was. At least-it was where he was at.
How did one move up from zero?
It helped to walk. Clear his mind.
Lucas let his head fall back, allowing the cool breeze play over his features. Ignored the slow moving cars. Just forget about him. Maybe he'd go back to his world and never step into that gym again. Let them have their game, Ravens whatever.
"Crap." Kicked out. What was wrong with this world. Needed Haley. Needed his mom-wry smile. Needed a Dad, was what.
Lucas turned off, headed for the place where he could be himself and it was good enough.
Stepped right in front of someone. The protesting screech of tires, a firm stop. Lucas had to raise his eyes from the sidewalk; no Peyton, wide eyed and indignant.
"Get off the road!"
Lucas involuntarily stepped back and stumbled against the curb. He caught himself and jerked his head away, fists clenched in sweatshirt pockets.
"You know, Scott, it's pretty obvious you can't handle your game, but crossing the street?"
Lucas started walking the way he had come, there was no peace to be found. Anywhere. Might as well go home.
school
Maybe someday in time things will go my way...
Trapped inside this body, these silly fears so small...trapped inside this room, trying to look indifferent, really all unrest...how come she looks she calm? Why is he so full of himself? How can I deal with all this...how should I?
Coy smiling girl in the corner...
Overconfident athletes...
Self-labeled blond brooder, center back...time, ticking away the seconds, underlying it all.
Lucas pushed his pen into the desk, pent up sigh evaporating like the half baked puddles outside his school.
Say it's not forever...
Maybe he'd outgrow this.
Or not.
Crowded halls, sun dappled sidewalks...summer heated asphalt, the smell of fresh mown grass and sticky tar.
Lucas weaved through the knots of students, intent on the headphones he adjusted almost relievedly over his head...a clear, safe signal. Let me be.
Maybe he avoided friendships this way. Missed the bright hub of popularity...a lie to say he didn't care, but the loss was far less than the gain.
He didn't feel rejection, he wasn't embarrassed; his actions showed the world he accepted the loner's path, it was his choice, Lucas Scott was fine.
Or not.
The tall blond cast one last glance behind his shoulder, hoped Whitey would understand, his skipping out of basketball practice. Lucas mentally caught himself. He wasn't skipping-he was quitting.
Uh. Decidedly unpleasant word, especially when applied to one's self. Lucas Scott was through.
"You coming to the party tonight?" Haley, leaning in, lips almost touching his ear.
"Party?"
"Ya, the under dogs are hosting, everyone's going."
Lucas looked genuinely confused. "Sorry, Hales...I didn't get an invite."
"Luke, it's us. I mean, the lesser peoples of Tree Hill High. You must have forgotten."
Lucas smiled, Haley's maternal instincts were in overdrive.
"Hales, I didn't hear about it. I'm just going to hang out by myself tonight."
"Well, if you're not coming-"
"Then you'll still have a great time."
"Why is he always doing that?"
Lucas followed Haley's frown, that peculiar little pucker of the forehead he found absolutely girly and met Nathan Scott's gaze.
"Hales?"
"Wait a minute, Luke, I didn't mean to cause any trouble-"
His tone had dropped an octave. "There is trouble. You haven't caused anything."
She assumed a meek face as he turned back to her.
"How long has he been eyeing you like that?"
Uncomfortable. Haley crossed her arms, scuffed the toe of her sneaker around and around.
"Just this week."
"All the time, Hales?"
"Well, yes, but maybe he was just staring to stare-I mean, Nathan probably looks at all the girls, Luke, we know what he's like-"
"Yeah, we sure do." Lucas slung his arm around Haley's shoulders, half protective, half making Haley feel like she was a bone being guarded.
"Is he coming to this party tonight?"
"All the guys are going. You know how wild the beach things can get."
"When do you want me to pick you up?"
Neither Scott broke eye contact.
Haley suppressed a twinge of uncertainty.
Call out the dogs of war.
Thanks very much to all the kind reviewers ( :
I would write for one, but it's nice to have a crowd. Thank you a lot
-THREE-
Lucas' heart was pounding so hard, surely everyone could hear it... difficult to breathe, he wet his lips for the thousandth time and shook a few strands of wet hair from his forehead.
Slo-mo. Slow motion-ah, the beauty and terror of it.
Nathan was in his element, the home crowd's roars surged, almost silent swish of perfect basket.
Whereas his brother seemed to ride the waves of sound, even rose to meet the attention with spectacular ease, Lucas flinched from the noise, the smell, the feel of thousands of eyes all intent upon him. Whitey said Lucas would learn to love this...it was intoxicating.
For the dozenth time he stole a glance toward the stands, hoping to spy Karen. Along with the nervous tingle in his body was the sharp pang of betrayal. She hadn't come.
He fumbled, almost tripped. One of the players had jostled him. Lucas swept his blue gaze out wards-knew it was a purposeful maneuver to unnerve him.
Almost laughed hysterically. "No need to try that, fellas, I can do that to myself, thank you very much..."
The ball, in his hands. Cool, inanimate. His chance. His shot...
Time...slipping toward eternity...silence
Coach Whitey slapping him on the shoulder, hard. Avoiding any scenery but the scuffed floor...
The breeze stirred stray leaves, red sunlight sparkling through the trees...discarded wrappers and empty pop cans. Reality.
Lucas slumped against a trunk, the rough bark earthy and reassuring. Closed his eyes. Felt the nausea fade.
He had to go to school tomorrow. He had to go home and deal with Karen's not-quite-direct stare. The things missing from his room. The team's dislike. The look on his father's face. Not cool, nor smug, nor mean. A nod and tight lipped smile that Lucas read as intended.
Like he'd lived up perfectly to Dan's expectations. Zero. Zero was what he was. At least-it was where he was at.
How did one move up from zero?
It helped to walk. Clear his mind.
Lucas let his head fall back, allowing the cool breeze play over his features. Ignored the slow moving cars. Just forget about him. Maybe he'd go back to his world and never step into that gym again. Let them have their game, Ravens whatever.
"Crap." Kicked out. What was wrong with this world. Needed Haley. Needed his mom-wry smile. Needed a Dad, was what.
Lucas turned off, headed for the place where he could be himself and it was good enough.
Stepped right in front of someone. The protesting screech of tires, a firm stop. Lucas had to raise his eyes from the sidewalk; no Peyton, wide eyed and indignant.
"Get off the road!"
Lucas involuntarily stepped back and stumbled against the curb. He caught himself and jerked his head away, fists clenched in sweatshirt pockets.
"You know, Scott, it's pretty obvious you can't handle your game, but crossing the street?"
Lucas started walking the way he had come, there was no peace to be found. Anywhere. Might as well go home.
school
Maybe someday in time things will go my way...
Trapped inside this body, these silly fears so small...trapped inside this room, trying to look indifferent, really all unrest...how come she looks she calm? Why is he so full of himself? How can I deal with all this...how should I?
Coy smiling girl in the corner...
Overconfident athletes...
Self-labeled blond brooder, center back...time, ticking away the seconds, underlying it all.
Lucas pushed his pen into the desk, pent up sigh evaporating like the half baked puddles outside his school.
Say it's not forever...
Maybe he'd outgrow this.
Or not.
Crowded halls, sun dappled sidewalks...summer heated asphalt, the smell of fresh mown grass and sticky tar.
Lucas weaved through the knots of students, intent on the headphones he adjusted almost relievedly over his head...a clear, safe signal. Let me be.
Maybe he avoided friendships this way. Missed the bright hub of popularity...a lie to say he didn't care, but the loss was far less than the gain.
He didn't feel rejection, he wasn't embarrassed; his actions showed the world he accepted the loner's path, it was his choice, Lucas Scott was fine.
Or not.
The tall blond cast one last glance behind his shoulder, hoped Whitey would understand, his skipping out of basketball practice. Lucas mentally caught himself. He wasn't skipping-he was quitting.
Uh. Decidedly unpleasant word, especially when applied to one's self. Lucas Scott was through.
"You coming to the party tonight?" Haley, leaning in, lips almost touching his ear.
"Party?"
"Ya, the under dogs are hosting, everyone's going."
Lucas looked genuinely confused. "Sorry, Hales...I didn't get an invite."
"Luke, it's us. I mean, the lesser peoples of Tree Hill High. You must have forgotten."
Lucas smiled, Haley's maternal instincts were in overdrive.
"Hales, I didn't hear about it. I'm just going to hang out by myself tonight."
"Well, if you're not coming-"
"Then you'll still have a great time."
"Why is he always doing that?"
Lucas followed Haley's frown, that peculiar little pucker of the forehead he found absolutely girly and met Nathan Scott's gaze.
"Hales?"
"Wait a minute, Luke, I didn't mean to cause any trouble-"
His tone had dropped an octave. "There is trouble. You haven't caused anything."
She assumed a meek face as he turned back to her.
"How long has he been eyeing you like that?"
Uncomfortable. Haley crossed her arms, scuffed the toe of her sneaker around and around.
"Just this week."
"All the time, Hales?"
"Well, yes, but maybe he was just staring to stare-I mean, Nathan probably looks at all the girls, Luke, we know what he's like-"
"Yeah, we sure do." Lucas slung his arm around Haley's shoulders, half protective, half making Haley feel like she was a bone being guarded.
"Is he coming to this party tonight?"
"All the guys are going. You know how wild the beach things can get."
"When do you want me to pick you up?"
Neither Scott broke eye contact.
Haley suppressed a twinge of uncertainty.
Call out the dogs of war.