Actually, I'm Expecting the Spanish Inquisition

Things went on much the same way for the next few weeks. Lucas, after the blowup in the bedroom, had gone suspiciously quiet, but Nathan knew he was planning something, and as much as he liked having Dan's training obsession split when Lucas was there, he'd come to dread what he thought of as the "Lucas weeks". He had talked about it with Elizabeth Holly, his therapist, where Dan, good to his word, had continued to send him every week. She had recommended bringing both Dan and Lucas in for a family session, but Dan was dragging his feet. Nathan could have told her he wouldn't go for it. Karen seemed to think it was a good idea, but when she'd spoken up, it had turned into another screaming match, the original question lost in the piles of invective and bitter history. The therapist's second suggestion, much as Mrs. Plumber's had been, had been to talk to Dan about it directly. It was this option Nathan was turning over at the moment. Given what had already transpired, he wasn't so sure Dan was the right person. He was afraid it would turn into another opportunity to belittle Lucas while praising Nathan, which was only going to make things worse. Dan had, as promised, gone to Whitey the next day to try and get Nathan moved to a different position, but Whitey, who Nathan was beginning to think knew absolutely everything that went on in the greater Tree Hill area, refused. Nathan had been secretly grateful, but Dan was furious. "For some reason Whitey is sticking with you, Luke, so you'd better start deserving it," he'd practically screamed at Lucas.

Almost luckily, his first varsity game had been a disaster. On those few occasions where he did work up the confidence to attempt the basket himself, he'd missed almost all of them, scoring a miserable 8 points. That had taken some of the wind out of Dan's sails, and sent Lucas over the moon with glee, but the relief from the pressure had been momentary, since Dan had decided the problem was not enough practice and the drills had tripled. Nathan was starting to regret he had gotten Dan's height, instead of his mom's. At least then he could have played some other sport, but no, he had to be tall. Tall meant basketball. Tall meant Dan waking him up at 6 am on Saturdays to do windsprints. Tall meant shooting endless baskets for hours at a time until he'd hear the "schwoop, schwoop, schwoop" of the basket in his dreams. Tall meant "quality time" with Lucas, playing vicious half-court one-on-one while Dan watched and coached and bullied without ever noticing Lucas' anger.

But then again, tall also meant more time with Peyton, since the cheerleaders worked out with the team. Peyton had continued her quest to make Nathan socially acceptable over Lucas' objections. She had also introduced him to Brooke, sort of. She had introduced him in the sense of "Nathan Carver, Brooke Davis" but Brooke had more than taken it from there. Sometimes he found her raw sexuality and constant innuendo intimidating. Brooke reminded him of Tammi, who had worked at the bank with his mom and whose previous job had been at the Mustang Ranch before it closed. She was taking the opportunity to go legit, as she put it, but at times she'd turn it on without even noticing she couldn't help herself. Brooke was a lot like that, but he couldn't deny that the flirting was kind of fun.

Mom had had to talk to Tammi a little sharply a few times, but she could never bring herself to fire the girl. "She's starting over, Nathan," she'd said. "I know what that's like." Like he was starting over. Old life dead. Past tense. This was the present. So he had allowed his mother's birthday to go by unknown and unobserved by anyone but him. He'd reread her last letter, and said a little prayer. If Dan had noticed the bouquet of white roses in his room, next to the urn containing what was left of Debra Carver, he hadn't mentioned it.

"Carver!" came the shout, startling him out of his thoughts. Ugh, he thought to himself. Tim.

"What is it, Tim?"

"I wanted to let you know there's a team party at my house this Friday after the game."

Nathan goggled. "And you're inviting me."

Tim smiled and shrugged. " You're on the team, aren't you?." As he walked away, Nathan stared. Was this going to be it? Whatever Lucas had planned? But if he didn't go, he'd never live it down. It was while he was debating what to do in his head that he saw Haley ahead of him, talking to someone he didn't recognize. Haley who was secret friends with Lucas. She would know what was going on.

"Haley!"

She saw him and gave him that huge grin that lit up her whole face and all the air around her.

"Nathan! What's been going on? I haven't seen you in the caf‚ lately."

"Yeah, varsity practice goes later than JV so I've just been going straight home. I'll come by and visit after the lunch rush on Saturday, how's that."

"You better, dork," she joked, punching him lightly in the arm.

"Listen," he said, pulling her off to the side. "I need to ask you a question. Do you know what Lucas has planned for this party at Tim's on Friday? Because Tim just invited me, and I'm not real sure I should go."

Haley frowned. "Listen, Lucas is my friend. I really don't want to be put in the middle like this."

"I know," Nathan persisted, "but it's gotta be a setup. I don't want to back down, but I'm not sure I can put up with much more of whatever he's got in store. I was just hoping you might know something."

She sighed. "No. If he's up to something, I haven't heard about it. But he was furious when he found out I was tutoring you, and hasn't really been speaking to me lately. I'll tell you what, though," she added. "Go, and I'll go with you. Safety in numbers. How's that?"

Nathan breathed a sigh of relief. "That would be awesome Hales. You're the best."

She punched him again. "Just don't go spreading it around. I've got enough on my plate without the groupies." He punched her back and they went their separate ways.