A/N: This fic is probably going to be somewhat different from what ya'll
are used to. Hopefully though, I'll make it work and have you enjoying
every last bit of. While the pairing is Nathan/Haley, and that will be
quite evident from what you see, there is also going to be a slightly
different twist to it.
This fic is sort-of A/U. Nathan and Haley were NOT married at the end of Season 1. Luke and Keith did not move to Charlotte. Jake and Jenny moved but returned during the gang's senior year. Other than that, everything to this point HAS happened. Without giving away the plot in its entirety, I want to make everyone aware of the fact that the fic, after this first chapter, most likely, will be a series of letters, with little actual interaction between the characters. It will all come together easily I hope. I hope ya'll enjoy!
Nervously I make my way to the podium, looking out one last time at the crowd before us, the Class of 2006, before I make my speech. As quiet as I've always been, I've been able to handle public speaking very well. But this? This is different. There are over 2,000 of our family and friends out there, anxiously awaiting what I have to say.
"Good Evening, Ladies and Gentlemen, and Graduates of the Class of 2006: Twelve months ago we were facing out last year in high school. The year we thought we'd never see, we saw but oh, so quickly. Suddenly we were savoring our last days of high school. For this we have many people to thank. We should thank our friends who helped us through the difficult times and made our high school years more memorable." My mind begins to wander back over the past year. The anticipation of being a senior. Luke and I used to sit around in his bedroom, imagining the way our senior year would end. And now, before we can even look back on it, it's over. This is it. Tonight, we graduate.
I take a deep breath, hoping to calm my nerves so I can at least speak clearly and annunciate. "Last year at Tree Hill was different in that there was an influx of students from Pinkerton District High School." Just days before classes were to begin for the school year, Pinkerton was condemned by the city. Asbestos. An abundance far too dangerous for the student population housed at the school. "Somehow, amazingly enough, everyone eventually blended together to form one school, wearing the same school colors and cheering for the same teams. I'm sure we would all like to mention some of the people who made the year more enjoyable, and –dare I say –at times more bearable."
I glance quickly at my cue cards and briefly scan the audience, allowing for my eyes to settle on my first victim. "First, we'd like to thank Coach Durham for finally showing us all what it really means to believe." We all see it just by looking at him. The man has given us all the ability to see something in ourselves that wasn't always there. The beauty. The brains. The athletic ability. All of it is now blatantly present.
I spin around and glance to my right. The guys side of the make-shift stage. "Thank you, senior basketball team, for the excitement provided with the donkey basketball game. (It's not everyday you'll see this group mounting a donkey.)" I think of the prim-and-proper guys sitting on this stage beside me. Not one of them put their image in front of the senior tradition- the donkey basketball game.
My eyes make their way through the guys, finally meeting up with one of the group. "Jake Jagelski is to be commended for showing us, in the fashion show, that John Travolta isn't the only man on earth who struts." The all too quiet father really broke out of his shell for that one. I can still see it in my mind- in his skin tight black ribbed t-shirt, the boot cut blue jeans he had really perfected his strut for that one!
"Thank you, Brian Bowing and Mike Lansing, for giving Mr. Robinson and Mr. Walker a more comfortable teaching aid: A couch!" I'll never forget the morning I walked into homeroom, the class being co-taught by two of the faculty's eldest members, each almost eighty years old. There they were, sitting comfortably on the couch, actually prepared for a lesson.
I plaster a grin on my face, knowing they'll both want to kill me after this one. It was a party at the beach house. An end of the summer bash. The entire class was there. I'm glad I had a camera handy and was able to catch the moment. I glance to my best friend and my boyfriend, finally true brothers sitting side by side, dressed to the nines. "Lucas Scott showed us what a mohican looks like. Thank you Nathan Scott, for your imitation of Lucas Scott's mohican." I allow my eyes to meet with his and wink at him, offering my prize-winning smile before I continue on with my speech. He beams proudly at me.
I turn my stare to the girls now. White gowns and caps in place, they're all sitting smiling happily that tonight is finally here. "We extend our gratitude to the Senior Girls' Cheerleading team for beating the Bear Creek at the annual Classic." This year wasn't the first time but it was just as glorious as the first. "Any team who wears silver baby bells on their cheering shoes deserves to be beaten!" I take this quote directly from one of my closest friends, Brooke Davis. Over the years we have become much closer, more appreciative of each other and our differences. Because of that, we've become so close you'd think we were sisters.
I turn to them, my two best-girlfriends. "Thank you, Brooke Davis and Peyton Sawyer, for the wonderful Spring Prom." The memory is still fresh in my mind. It was by far one of the best nights of my entire life, seeing Nathan dressed up in his tux. The whole night was magical. "Sincere thanks to Alison Goldwin for finally taking the ketchup away from Mouth, that evening; before he could destroy his dessert as well." I glance over to Mouth, who I've known since kindergarten when Luke first introduced the two of us, and offer a light smile, glad he's up for the sense of humor I have tonight.
I turn my eyes back to my list, willing myself to remember who's next. "To Mike Stanbridge, who moved the clock ahead in Canadian Lit., thanks." Mike has always been the class clown. Granted we've never been friend-friends, he's always been the type of guy you could have a friendly conversation with. His trademark smile and his good wits make everyone drawn to him instantly.
"To all those who mentioned sports to Mr. Romain, thereby precipitating a 70-minute sports talk rather than a history lecture, thank you." Mr. Romain. The most sincere physics teacher Tree Hill has ever seen. I'll never forget the day they pulled him off topic and were actually able to engage him in a conversation about the basketball playoffs.
"Thank you, S.A.C. (Student Athletic Council) for the Athletic Banquet, at which Skills thrilled us with his imitation of Michael Jackson." Luckily enough for me, I was invited by Nathan to attend the banquet as his date. Yes, I've got him referring to our outings as dates now! We had a roast beef buffet style dinner. The typical school sponsored meal.
I notice the last two names on my paper and begin to grow sentimental about the whole evening, knowing that the end of my speech means the dispersing of diplomas and the closing of the ceremony. "Finally, to sum up the year, thank you, Kelly Miller, for asking Mr. Hepworth: "Sir, why do we always have to learn?" Kelly Miller. By far the quietest, most serious student in the entire district. The Salutatorian. She never spoke. Never asked a question. Merely sat quietly in the back of the room barely making her existence known to the class. Apparently, she grew sick of Mr. Hepworth's lectures on the psychological development of monkeys in Psychology. It was the first time we'd ever heard her speak. The class got a kick out of it and instantly she became the talk of the school for a day.
I say the words over and over in my head, hoping that somewhere along the line, I don't lose them. "The last year proved a tremendous success for the class of 2006. We should thank our teachers for their support and understanding." I gaze along the line of faculty, all dressed in their gowns, sitting along the front row of the audience. As the sun begins to set in the sky, I have to squint to avoid being blinded by the light. "The students of a school are important, but a dedicated, enlightened teaching corps is absolutely essential to the continued high standards of any school. The Tree Hill teachers rave continually beyond what could reasonably be expected of any group. I would like to thank them for their work and patience and for their never-ending battle to show us how important it is to be always learning, and always seeking wisdom on and beyond the academic level."
This is the hardest part of the entire speech for me. Having to find a way to thank my parents and show them that no matter what, the ups and downs we've been through together that I'm always going to appreciate what they've done for me. "This same sort of dedication can be found in our closest allies: our parents." My eyes travel to them, instantly connecting with my father. He's never been there for me. Never. But for some reason, I still feel like I owe some of this to him. Before I give my next statement, I divert my looks towards the one person who has been more of a mother to me than my own. Karen Roe. "Their caring concern is, in the final analysis, always directed to our best interest. Our parents continually support us in our ventures, and even in our misadventures. They share our panic at exam time, and should rightly share in our elation at successfully straddling yet another hurdle, which is the purpose of tonight's ceremony. The pride our parents feel tonight is, I am sure, a reflection of the emotion we feel for them." She smiles proudly at me, as though I really am her daughter, before nodding, as if to tell me to keep going.
I turn back to my own parents and glare at them. This is for them. "What we sometimes feel is nagging or over-protectiveness, is invariably revealed as a continued attempt on the part of our parents to prod us into thinking as adults." They've never been sentimental. More like drill sergeants. I'll never forget the first time, just this school year, that I missed curfew. It was all worth it, the punishment, after the time I spent with Nathan that night.
I turn to my classmates, allowing my back to the audience. "We, the graduating class of 2006, cannot ignore the situation of the world today." I try not to let the smile that exists on my face to disappear. The country that has taken the lives of so many of our troops is soon going to be taking the most important thing in my life. Nathan. The war in Iraq is still intensifying. We've been in the country now for three years. There is no sign of the fighting dying down any time soon. "Together we must strive to alleviate the fears of all people, it has been said that we are the adults of tomorrow –and tomorrow is rapidly approaching." Our country is still living in fear. After the terrorist attacks that shook our nation in 2001, lives have returned to normal. But the fear still exists.
I turn my stare to Nathan, offering a weak smile as I speak. "As we look forward to and plan for the future, we should also remember the past. History represents the analysis of events and their effect on subsequent generations. It can only be beneficial for us to acknowledge and learn from their mistakes and successes of our forefathers. How can we hope to understand the course of current events if we fail to examine what has gone before us?" I hope he understands me clearly. He is not his father. He is not Dan. He never will be either. He is the most caring, considerate man I have ever met.
They told me when I was writing my speech to be serious. To have a good time, but to remember the important stuff at the same time. "The generations before us developed technology and it quickly became a necessary part of our lives. At present, this development is threatening to run beyond our control. It is our job to grab the reins of technology and re-establish its development for the benefit, not the detriment, of mankind. We cannot allow our lives to be threatened by the menace of nuclear war, political fanaticism or economic instability. We must fight against technology's becoming a Frankenstein controlling the very men who created it. Man must control what he has created."
As I begin to wind down my speech, the realization really sets in. This is it. "Traditionally, the Valedictory address exhorts the students to look to the future and rise to the challenge of whatever lies in their way. It is also true that the speech remains just as easily-forgotten jumble of ideas. It is understandable to be complacent and ignore, politely, of course, the whole process."
I glance out over the audience, the sun beating down profusely on all of them and then I turn back to my classmates. "However, the fact remains that we are going to inherit all the ills of generations before us. We are the successors and must make choices whether we want to or not." We have to live with what has been done before us. We have to strive to make the difference. To change what we don't agree with. But to make the United States a better place to live.
"If we choose ignorance, the price could be existence itself, in an age in which one button and one man's single decision could spell the end of civilization. Are we really in a position to sit back and remain indifferent?" I realize what Nathan is going to be doing just one month from now. It terrifies me, really. To know that he's going to have that kind of power. The kind of power where one decision can change our lives in an instant.
"If we are the inheritors of society's rich and dynamic heritage, we are in the position to tip the scales in favor of peace and security, ushering in a golden age of immense comfort and unparalleled wealth. We must be realistic, however; we cannot be all things to all men, but if as young people we seek individual peace and security, collectively this will be brought about. We must fight a long and hard battle to bring about this golden age." We have been through more in our lives than most people our age have been through. But each and every one of us realizes we can make a difference. At seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen years old, each and every one of us can make a difference.
I can feel the tears in my eyes welling up as I speak my last few words. "Our years at Tree Hill were pleasant and memorable ones. They represent the combination of work and play. This combination is essential to our happiness as adults. We shall fight so that our children may enjoy the same pleasant times we have enjoyed." I try to picture myself, twenty, twenty five years from now. Sitting here, in this audience, listening to the valedictorian speech of my own child's graduating class. It almost seems hard to imagine, but I can see it. I can see our children, my classmates' children sitting here on this law, anxiously anticipating graduation the same way we all did.
"Never forget your days at Tree Hill, for they have been years of fun and friendship."
"Congratulations, Class of 2006!" As these last four words escape my mouth the audience erupts into a roar, the cheering filling the air around us.
I don't really pay much attention as the names begin being called to receive our diplomas. My mind is elsewhere. My thoughts once again stumbling upon my girlfriend's speech. She never ceases to amaze me. "Haley Elizabeth James." Upon hearing her name I look up, desperate to capture the moment forever in my mind. Her striking smile reappears as she collects her diploma and makes her way back towards her seat, offering me a wink as she passes by my aisle on the way. The names continue until I hear that of my own brother. "Lucas Keith Scott." I smile up at him as he stands and makes his way toward center stage to accept his diploma.
"Nathan Daniel Scott." We pass each other momentarily as I make my way up for own piece of pride. It's still hard to accept. Never being able to bring my grades up to receive a basketball scholarship, I decided to take other footsteps than my own father did. During the summer before my junior year in high school I enlisted with the Army. That summer and this past summer I completed all my formal training. In two weeks time, I'm going to be leaving everything behind. Moving to Georgia. Beginning my military career.
The remaining names are called and the Superintendent of the district closes the ceremony. At once, we all throw our caps in the air, watching them rain back down to us. I make my way across the stage and take her in my arms, planting kisses along her jaw line. "You did awesome up there Hales." I congratulate her on her speech and together we head off, hand-in- hand, determined to find our own friends and family amidst the crowd.
Two Weeks Later
"I'm going to miss you, you know." We lay in each others, only the moon light illuminating the room we're sharing. She speaks quietly to me, fighting against tearing up, fiddling with the small gold band on her finger.
"I'm going to miss you too Hales. But we can do this. You know we can." I think back to the past two summers when we'd been separated as well. I know what she's thinking though. It seems so final this time. I'm not going to be returning for classes at Tree Hill. She's going to be leaving for UNC: Chapel Hill. I pull her into my arms, wishing to offer some kind of comfort. It's our last night together. One last chance to just enjoy being together before I leave for who knows how long. "Besides, we're together now. Nothing's going to tear us apart." I smile up at her lightly. We got married tonight. No one knows except us. And for tonight, we're going to enjoy it. Haley and me. Because tomorrow morning I have to say my last good-byes before I leave first thing tomorrow afternoon. Without speaking anymore we sink into each other's familiar bodies, ready to make two a perfect one.
This fic is sort-of A/U. Nathan and Haley were NOT married at the end of Season 1. Luke and Keith did not move to Charlotte. Jake and Jenny moved but returned during the gang's senior year. Other than that, everything to this point HAS happened. Without giving away the plot in its entirety, I want to make everyone aware of the fact that the fic, after this first chapter, most likely, will be a series of letters, with little actual interaction between the characters. It will all come together easily I hope. I hope ya'll enjoy!
Nervously I make my way to the podium, looking out one last time at the crowd before us, the Class of 2006, before I make my speech. As quiet as I've always been, I've been able to handle public speaking very well. But this? This is different. There are over 2,000 of our family and friends out there, anxiously awaiting what I have to say.
"Good Evening, Ladies and Gentlemen, and Graduates of the Class of 2006: Twelve months ago we were facing out last year in high school. The year we thought we'd never see, we saw but oh, so quickly. Suddenly we were savoring our last days of high school. For this we have many people to thank. We should thank our friends who helped us through the difficult times and made our high school years more memorable." My mind begins to wander back over the past year. The anticipation of being a senior. Luke and I used to sit around in his bedroom, imagining the way our senior year would end. And now, before we can even look back on it, it's over. This is it. Tonight, we graduate.
I take a deep breath, hoping to calm my nerves so I can at least speak clearly and annunciate. "Last year at Tree Hill was different in that there was an influx of students from Pinkerton District High School." Just days before classes were to begin for the school year, Pinkerton was condemned by the city. Asbestos. An abundance far too dangerous for the student population housed at the school. "Somehow, amazingly enough, everyone eventually blended together to form one school, wearing the same school colors and cheering for the same teams. I'm sure we would all like to mention some of the people who made the year more enjoyable, and –dare I say –at times more bearable."
I glance quickly at my cue cards and briefly scan the audience, allowing for my eyes to settle on my first victim. "First, we'd like to thank Coach Durham for finally showing us all what it really means to believe." We all see it just by looking at him. The man has given us all the ability to see something in ourselves that wasn't always there. The beauty. The brains. The athletic ability. All of it is now blatantly present.
I spin around and glance to my right. The guys side of the make-shift stage. "Thank you, senior basketball team, for the excitement provided with the donkey basketball game. (It's not everyday you'll see this group mounting a donkey.)" I think of the prim-and-proper guys sitting on this stage beside me. Not one of them put their image in front of the senior tradition- the donkey basketball game.
My eyes make their way through the guys, finally meeting up with one of the group. "Jake Jagelski is to be commended for showing us, in the fashion show, that John Travolta isn't the only man on earth who struts." The all too quiet father really broke out of his shell for that one. I can still see it in my mind- in his skin tight black ribbed t-shirt, the boot cut blue jeans he had really perfected his strut for that one!
"Thank you, Brian Bowing and Mike Lansing, for giving Mr. Robinson and Mr. Walker a more comfortable teaching aid: A couch!" I'll never forget the morning I walked into homeroom, the class being co-taught by two of the faculty's eldest members, each almost eighty years old. There they were, sitting comfortably on the couch, actually prepared for a lesson.
I plaster a grin on my face, knowing they'll both want to kill me after this one. It was a party at the beach house. An end of the summer bash. The entire class was there. I'm glad I had a camera handy and was able to catch the moment. I glance to my best friend and my boyfriend, finally true brothers sitting side by side, dressed to the nines. "Lucas Scott showed us what a mohican looks like. Thank you Nathan Scott, for your imitation of Lucas Scott's mohican." I allow my eyes to meet with his and wink at him, offering my prize-winning smile before I continue on with my speech. He beams proudly at me.
I turn my stare to the girls now. White gowns and caps in place, they're all sitting smiling happily that tonight is finally here. "We extend our gratitude to the Senior Girls' Cheerleading team for beating the Bear Creek at the annual Classic." This year wasn't the first time but it was just as glorious as the first. "Any team who wears silver baby bells on their cheering shoes deserves to be beaten!" I take this quote directly from one of my closest friends, Brooke Davis. Over the years we have become much closer, more appreciative of each other and our differences. Because of that, we've become so close you'd think we were sisters.
I turn to them, my two best-girlfriends. "Thank you, Brooke Davis and Peyton Sawyer, for the wonderful Spring Prom." The memory is still fresh in my mind. It was by far one of the best nights of my entire life, seeing Nathan dressed up in his tux. The whole night was magical. "Sincere thanks to Alison Goldwin for finally taking the ketchup away from Mouth, that evening; before he could destroy his dessert as well." I glance over to Mouth, who I've known since kindergarten when Luke first introduced the two of us, and offer a light smile, glad he's up for the sense of humor I have tonight.
I turn my eyes back to my list, willing myself to remember who's next. "To Mike Stanbridge, who moved the clock ahead in Canadian Lit., thanks." Mike has always been the class clown. Granted we've never been friend-friends, he's always been the type of guy you could have a friendly conversation with. His trademark smile and his good wits make everyone drawn to him instantly.
"To all those who mentioned sports to Mr. Romain, thereby precipitating a 70-minute sports talk rather than a history lecture, thank you." Mr. Romain. The most sincere physics teacher Tree Hill has ever seen. I'll never forget the day they pulled him off topic and were actually able to engage him in a conversation about the basketball playoffs.
"Thank you, S.A.C. (Student Athletic Council) for the Athletic Banquet, at which Skills thrilled us with his imitation of Michael Jackson." Luckily enough for me, I was invited by Nathan to attend the banquet as his date. Yes, I've got him referring to our outings as dates now! We had a roast beef buffet style dinner. The typical school sponsored meal.
I notice the last two names on my paper and begin to grow sentimental about the whole evening, knowing that the end of my speech means the dispersing of diplomas and the closing of the ceremony. "Finally, to sum up the year, thank you, Kelly Miller, for asking Mr. Hepworth: "Sir, why do we always have to learn?" Kelly Miller. By far the quietest, most serious student in the entire district. The Salutatorian. She never spoke. Never asked a question. Merely sat quietly in the back of the room barely making her existence known to the class. Apparently, she grew sick of Mr. Hepworth's lectures on the psychological development of monkeys in Psychology. It was the first time we'd ever heard her speak. The class got a kick out of it and instantly she became the talk of the school for a day.
I say the words over and over in my head, hoping that somewhere along the line, I don't lose them. "The last year proved a tremendous success for the class of 2006. We should thank our teachers for their support and understanding." I gaze along the line of faculty, all dressed in their gowns, sitting along the front row of the audience. As the sun begins to set in the sky, I have to squint to avoid being blinded by the light. "The students of a school are important, but a dedicated, enlightened teaching corps is absolutely essential to the continued high standards of any school. The Tree Hill teachers rave continually beyond what could reasonably be expected of any group. I would like to thank them for their work and patience and for their never-ending battle to show us how important it is to be always learning, and always seeking wisdom on and beyond the academic level."
This is the hardest part of the entire speech for me. Having to find a way to thank my parents and show them that no matter what, the ups and downs we've been through together that I'm always going to appreciate what they've done for me. "This same sort of dedication can be found in our closest allies: our parents." My eyes travel to them, instantly connecting with my father. He's never been there for me. Never. But for some reason, I still feel like I owe some of this to him. Before I give my next statement, I divert my looks towards the one person who has been more of a mother to me than my own. Karen Roe. "Their caring concern is, in the final analysis, always directed to our best interest. Our parents continually support us in our ventures, and even in our misadventures. They share our panic at exam time, and should rightly share in our elation at successfully straddling yet another hurdle, which is the purpose of tonight's ceremony. The pride our parents feel tonight is, I am sure, a reflection of the emotion we feel for them." She smiles proudly at me, as though I really am her daughter, before nodding, as if to tell me to keep going.
I turn back to my own parents and glare at them. This is for them. "What we sometimes feel is nagging or over-protectiveness, is invariably revealed as a continued attempt on the part of our parents to prod us into thinking as adults." They've never been sentimental. More like drill sergeants. I'll never forget the first time, just this school year, that I missed curfew. It was all worth it, the punishment, after the time I spent with Nathan that night.
I turn to my classmates, allowing my back to the audience. "We, the graduating class of 2006, cannot ignore the situation of the world today." I try not to let the smile that exists on my face to disappear. The country that has taken the lives of so many of our troops is soon going to be taking the most important thing in my life. Nathan. The war in Iraq is still intensifying. We've been in the country now for three years. There is no sign of the fighting dying down any time soon. "Together we must strive to alleviate the fears of all people, it has been said that we are the adults of tomorrow –and tomorrow is rapidly approaching." Our country is still living in fear. After the terrorist attacks that shook our nation in 2001, lives have returned to normal. But the fear still exists.
I turn my stare to Nathan, offering a weak smile as I speak. "As we look forward to and plan for the future, we should also remember the past. History represents the analysis of events and their effect on subsequent generations. It can only be beneficial for us to acknowledge and learn from their mistakes and successes of our forefathers. How can we hope to understand the course of current events if we fail to examine what has gone before us?" I hope he understands me clearly. He is not his father. He is not Dan. He never will be either. He is the most caring, considerate man I have ever met.
They told me when I was writing my speech to be serious. To have a good time, but to remember the important stuff at the same time. "The generations before us developed technology and it quickly became a necessary part of our lives. At present, this development is threatening to run beyond our control. It is our job to grab the reins of technology and re-establish its development for the benefit, not the detriment, of mankind. We cannot allow our lives to be threatened by the menace of nuclear war, political fanaticism or economic instability. We must fight against technology's becoming a Frankenstein controlling the very men who created it. Man must control what he has created."
As I begin to wind down my speech, the realization really sets in. This is it. "Traditionally, the Valedictory address exhorts the students to look to the future and rise to the challenge of whatever lies in their way. It is also true that the speech remains just as easily-forgotten jumble of ideas. It is understandable to be complacent and ignore, politely, of course, the whole process."
I glance out over the audience, the sun beating down profusely on all of them and then I turn back to my classmates. "However, the fact remains that we are going to inherit all the ills of generations before us. We are the successors and must make choices whether we want to or not." We have to live with what has been done before us. We have to strive to make the difference. To change what we don't agree with. But to make the United States a better place to live.
"If we choose ignorance, the price could be existence itself, in an age in which one button and one man's single decision could spell the end of civilization. Are we really in a position to sit back and remain indifferent?" I realize what Nathan is going to be doing just one month from now. It terrifies me, really. To know that he's going to have that kind of power. The kind of power where one decision can change our lives in an instant.
"If we are the inheritors of society's rich and dynamic heritage, we are in the position to tip the scales in favor of peace and security, ushering in a golden age of immense comfort and unparalleled wealth. We must be realistic, however; we cannot be all things to all men, but if as young people we seek individual peace and security, collectively this will be brought about. We must fight a long and hard battle to bring about this golden age." We have been through more in our lives than most people our age have been through. But each and every one of us realizes we can make a difference. At seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen years old, each and every one of us can make a difference.
I can feel the tears in my eyes welling up as I speak my last few words. "Our years at Tree Hill were pleasant and memorable ones. They represent the combination of work and play. This combination is essential to our happiness as adults. We shall fight so that our children may enjoy the same pleasant times we have enjoyed." I try to picture myself, twenty, twenty five years from now. Sitting here, in this audience, listening to the valedictorian speech of my own child's graduating class. It almost seems hard to imagine, but I can see it. I can see our children, my classmates' children sitting here on this law, anxiously anticipating graduation the same way we all did.
"Never forget your days at Tree Hill, for they have been years of fun and friendship."
"Congratulations, Class of 2006!" As these last four words escape my mouth the audience erupts into a roar, the cheering filling the air around us.
I don't really pay much attention as the names begin being called to receive our diplomas. My mind is elsewhere. My thoughts once again stumbling upon my girlfriend's speech. She never ceases to amaze me. "Haley Elizabeth James." Upon hearing her name I look up, desperate to capture the moment forever in my mind. Her striking smile reappears as she collects her diploma and makes her way back towards her seat, offering me a wink as she passes by my aisle on the way. The names continue until I hear that of my own brother. "Lucas Keith Scott." I smile up at him as he stands and makes his way toward center stage to accept his diploma.
"Nathan Daniel Scott." We pass each other momentarily as I make my way up for own piece of pride. It's still hard to accept. Never being able to bring my grades up to receive a basketball scholarship, I decided to take other footsteps than my own father did. During the summer before my junior year in high school I enlisted with the Army. That summer and this past summer I completed all my formal training. In two weeks time, I'm going to be leaving everything behind. Moving to Georgia. Beginning my military career.
The remaining names are called and the Superintendent of the district closes the ceremony. At once, we all throw our caps in the air, watching them rain back down to us. I make my way across the stage and take her in my arms, planting kisses along her jaw line. "You did awesome up there Hales." I congratulate her on her speech and together we head off, hand-in- hand, determined to find our own friends and family amidst the crowd.
Two Weeks Later
"I'm going to miss you, you know." We lay in each others, only the moon light illuminating the room we're sharing. She speaks quietly to me, fighting against tearing up, fiddling with the small gold band on her finger.
"I'm going to miss you too Hales. But we can do this. You know we can." I think back to the past two summers when we'd been separated as well. I know what she's thinking though. It seems so final this time. I'm not going to be returning for classes at Tree Hill. She's going to be leaving for UNC: Chapel Hill. I pull her into my arms, wishing to offer some kind of comfort. It's our last night together. One last chance to just enjoy being together before I leave for who knows how long. "Besides, we're together now. Nothing's going to tear us apart." I smile up at her lightly. We got married tonight. No one knows except us. And for tonight, we're going to enjoy it. Haley and me. Because tomorrow morning I have to say my last good-byes before I leave first thing tomorrow afternoon. Without speaking anymore we sink into each other's familiar bodies, ready to make two a perfect one.