Chapter Four – Desperado
Why don't you come to your senses, you've been out riding fences for so long now? Oh, you're a hard one, but I know that you've got your reasons... The Eagles
February, 2007
Valentine's Day. My least favorite day. Give me St. Patrick's Day, give me Martin Luther King, JR Day, give me anything but Valentine's Day, please. Any day of the year is better than Valentine's Day.
Hell, who am I kidding? Not even myself, that's for sure. The only reason I hate Valentine's Day this year is because I'm alone. I can't let go of my relationship with Nathan enough to date anyone else, even casually, but at the same time I can't give in and get back together with him.
I've talked to him about once a week since the big Thanksgiving blow-out, and he's sent me presents and I've sent him some, too. Things are still strained, though, and although he tries to brush it off, I know that a big part of him is very angry towards me. There's nothing I can do about that, though. Well, there is nothing I'm willing to do about it. I guess that there is a difference in that.
He hasn't asked me to get back together with him once since then. Selfishly, that hurts. I know it is exactly what I wanted, and now that I have it, well, I don't know what to think of it all. I really hate that I feel that way. I put myself in this position, and I have no right to feel like shit because of it.
The phone rings, and I fumble with my purse that is on the passenger seat of my car to grab it. The caller ID tells me it is Nathan. Maybe that ESP thing isn't so much bullshit.
"Happy Valentine's Day," I tell him, trying to sound unaffected.
"Back atcha! How are you, Haley J?"
"I'm pretty good. Caught your game last night. Saw you get your few minutes of playing time. Keep that up you'll be starting in no time."
He laughs, "Well, the season is almost over except for the tournament, and I know I won't get much time then, but thanks. How're things in Tree Hill? Still loving that car my dad coerced you into buying?"
I laugh. "Coerce? Geez, I'd have to be the stupidest person alive to turn down the deal he was offering me. But yes, I still love it. Next time you talk to Dan, tell him again how much I love it and appreciate his doing that for me."
"You've told him about a thousand times yourself, Haley J, I don't think that man's ego needs further inflating," he jokes.
"Okay, maybe not, but still, that was a nice thing he did for me."
"Yeah, it was. Nice, but surprising, which I guess isn't always the worst thing in the world," he decides.
"I should hope not!" I laugh.
"So, what's up? How's life with Brooke and Tim?"
Surprisingly, Nathan has either accepted that they are friends to me now, or has just decided this isn't a battle he wants to fight. Either way, it is much better than the open hostility that existed whenever they'd come up in conversation a few months ago.
"Well, we're going to a party tonight. Some sort of Valentine's Day BS thing. I can't decide if it is going to be really fun or a really awful train wreck. I guess that either way, it will be interesting."
"Sounds like it. You gonna be dressing up in pink and red and passing around candy hearts?" he laughs.
I shudder. "God no, there is no way I will ever be that festive! Although Brooke has been working on creating a drink called Candy Hearts for the past week. Last I heard it involved Everclear and different flavors of Pucker. I'm scared!" I laugh.
"Damn, I wish I could be there to see you drinking that stuff."
"Hey, you just know it'll knock me on my ass!" I protest, "You big brat! And what about you? What plans does the great Nathan Scott, basketball stud have for the evening?"
He clears his throat. "Uh, I kind of have a date."
Oh. Oh my. This is – well, this is really something. "So, how do you kind of have a date?" I ask, trying to play it off.
"Okay, so maybe I shouldn't say kind of," he concedes tersely, "It's just this stupid thing that some of the older guys on the team set up. Since the tournament is coming up soon, this is our last chance to have fun because we'll be focusing on practice so much. So, they hooked everyone up with dates."
"Sounds like fun!" I say brightly, probably more for my benefit than his. "I hope she's a nice girl," I tell him softly.
I can hear him sigh, so I know he was trying to get a reaction out of me. "Eh, it's nothing. Just a stupid basketball thing, but everything about my life here involves basketball, so no surprise there."
"Well, still, have fun. At the very least, you'll be hanging out with guys from the team, so that's good, right?"
"Yeah, that's not so bad. Look, I gotta go, Haley J. I have this math test that is going to kick my ass tomorrow, and I need to study for it. I wish you were here to tutor me," he informs me in a flirtatious voice.
"I wish that, too, but I know you'll be wonderful. Make me even prouder than you already have, Nathan!"
"Yeah, I will." By the sound of his voice, it really is more than an empty promise. "I love you."
"Love you, too."
I really miss him when we hang up. That's not to say I don't miss him all the time anyways, but I just feel so bereft right now that it's almost a physical pain. I just hurt. This is a feeling that I wish would go away, but don't really know if it ever will.
I guess it doesn't matter, at least not to the point of stressing over for now. I can't change it, I can't will it away. Oh, I've tried, but I've also quickly come to the realization that this is going to be a natural process and will go away when I'm ready for it to go away. Whenever that may be.
I don't have much time to think about it anyways, as I pull up to Brooke's. I've agreed to put my life in her hands and let her dress me, as well as do my hair and makeup. I'm not too sure where this will end up, but how bad could it possibly be? No, I don't even want to think of it. The possibilities for badness in this situation are endless. I am going to be her life-size Barbie doll, after all.
"Tigger, where are you?" I call as I open the door.
"In my room, get your ass up there!" she shouts back. I jog up the stairs, ready to get this torture over with.
"Hey!" she grins, partially buried in a sea of clothes and shoes, "This is going to be so much fun!"
I look at her dubiously. "Am I going to look like a hooker?" I ask, only half joking.
She rolls her eyes. "You can look hot without looking like a hooker. Am I not living proof of that?"
I nod slowly, mostly out of self-preservation. I'm 90% sure Brooke could kick my ass if she set her mind to it, so I'm not going to give her ammunition by likening her style to that of a whore.
"So, I was thinking that you look really good in red and black. How about red pants and a black top?"
"You have red pants?" Clearly she has the most vast and extensive wardrobe this side of Paris Hilton.
"Of course! And I think they'll look totally hot on you. Plus, it is Valentine's Day, and red is the color of love, so you should be festive!"
"Festive is fine, but let's all keep in mind that I'm not looking for love," I remind her, "And I would really not like it if you try and hook me up or something."
She looks at me, rolling her eyes. "First of all, Tutor Girl, it's really pathetic the way you're pining over Nathan Scott still. Second, if I'm hooking anyone up, it's myself. Third, get over Nathan already."
I laugh a little. "Easier said than done, I think. He has a date tonight, though, so at least one of us is moving on, huh?"
"Wow, really? I thought for sure you'd crack first. Well, isn't this what you wanted?" she asks, sitting beside me on the bed.
"I don't know," I shrug, "I mean, it's weird. I have been pushing and pushing for this, and now that it's here, it just kind of sucks. Besides, he says it isn't a real date, just some basketball thing."
"Well, just because it doesn't start as real, doesn't mean it won't turn into it."
I flop backwards, staring up at the ceiling. "Well, thanks a lot for that cheery thought, Tigger!"
"Okay, look, it is your life and all, but this is ridiculous. You can't have it all ways, right? So you either have to let him go and move on yourself or else call him up and get back together. Those are your only choices, Tutor Girl!"
I groan, not liking either. "Isn't there some middle ground where I can pine over him without actually compromising my belief that this is for the best? Because I like that idea best."
She stands up, grabbing some clothes to toss at me. "Put those on."
"Yes, ma'am." I pull my shirt off and slip the one she tossed me on. She looks at it critically.
"Take your bra off, the straps are showing."
"I'm not going braless!"
"Ugh. Prude. Fine, you can borrow one of my strapless ones. We're close enough, it should do the job."
I sigh, but accepting the racy, lacy black number she tosses my way. "Well, at least it fits reasonably well. Although it does kind of have a push-up effect."
"Well, duh, it's supposed to," she grins.
I roll my eyes. Of course it is supposed to. Who was I kidding? I quickly change pants, and move over to check myself out in her full-length mirror. I have to admit it; I look pretty good in Brooke's clothing.
"Okay, get your ass over here." I walk over to her torture chair, and sit down, ready to let her do her worst on me. I sit there fairly patiently – if I do say so myself, Brooke would beg to differ – and chatted with Brooke about tonight's party and some other parties that were coming up.
"Finally, perfection," she says, messing with my hair one more time before stepping away. "Go see!"
I'm somewhat worried about what I'll look like when I step up to the mirror. It isn't that I think Brooke wears slutty makeup or something; it's just that she wears a whole lot more of it than I do. To my surprise, though, it looks decent. I certainly wouldn't have applied this much myself, but she did do a good job of it, and it's fairly flattering even.
"Wow, not too bad, Tigger," I grin, kind of excited now to go to this party. The only drawback is that it's at Duke, which is about a half hour away. Still, though, it should be a blast, and if none of us are sober enough to drive home, we can find a place to crash there.
"Hello?" Tim bellows from the foyer.
"Jesus, he's loud," Brooke mutters, before shouting back at him to get his ass up here, just as loud. I barely resist the urge to cover my ears with my hand.
"You're one to talk. God, at least he didn't have anyone sitting right next to him!"
"You're fine," she dismisses with a wave of her hand.
Tim stalks – yes, he does that manly strutting thing I call stalking – into the room, leaning in the door frame. He lets out a low whistle. "Hey, you two are looking hot," he grins, "I scored in the date department tonight!"
Brooke groans, "If you even refer to me as your date anywhere within a half mile radius of any eligible men, I will kill you, Smith. Not nice kill, either. I'm talking string you up by your balls and slowly but surely removing whatever semblance of a dick you have. Capiche?"
He takes a step back, the color draining from his face. I do my best to cover my laughter with coughing. "I – yeah, understood. This is not a date. Not even as a joke. Okay."
I can't hold it any longer and I burst out laughing, collapsing against Brooke. A few seconds later, I feel her shaking with laughter as well. "Oh, my God, you should see the look on your face!" I choke out.
"You two are mean," Tim grumbles, "Look at you two, laughing at shit like that. That ain't right! You two ain't right!"
We both laugh even harder. Brooke gasps, "I'm going to have to use that line more often! That reaction was priceless!"
Both of us have tears streaming down our faces, and I don't know about Brooke, but I have one hell of a sideache from laughing so hard. When she sees that our makeup has ran, she drags me back over to the chair and reapplies mine first, and hers second.
We finally manage to get all our shit together and on the road. We've coerced Tim into driving, and I am seriously hoping that he'll stay sober enough to drive us home. Brooke and I pass a bottle of vodka back and forth between us on the way there, and all three of us laugh and sing along with the radio. It's fun and light, and I forget about my problems.
The party is at Tim's cousin's fraternity, and while this is my first frat party, it is definitely not Brooke's. So, she gives me a few pointers which are true to any party situation, and therefore completely redundant and pointless. However, it is somewhat cute that she feels protective of me, so I humor her and smile and thank her for the advice.
We head into the party after Brooke looks us all over and declares us fit. Brooke agrees to let Tim and I 'cramp her style' long enough to meet Tim's cousin, but the she's off. Or something.
"Hey Tim!" An unbelievably gorgeous guy comes sauntering over, a huge grin on his face. Brooke looks to be in absolute awe of him, and I'm sure that is reflected on my face as well. He's gorgeous; light brown hair, amazing green eyes, and a sexy, muscular build.
"He's mine," Brooke hisses, to which I roll my eyes and Tim looks like he swallowed poison.
"You can't call dibs on my cousin," Tim protests, "There is just something seriously wrong with that!"
"Ha! Your cousin is hot, he doesn't have some sorority slut draped over him, so there is no reason for me not to call dibs!" she counters.
"This is bullshit," he groans.
"What's bullshit, Tim?" his cousin asks as he reaches our group. He holds his out to me and then Brooke. "I'm Jason, by the way."
"Hi, nice to meet you," I smile, "I'm Haley."
"Back off, Tutor Girl," Brooke grins, winking at me. I roll my eyes and step back. "I'm Brooke, Brooke Davis, and it is a pleasure to meet you," she fairly purrs.
Jason looks a little overwhelmed by Brooke's attention, and after a few minutes of getting to know you's, he lets her drag him off towards the bar leaving Tim and I to fend for ourselves.
"So, James, what do you want to drink?"
"Whatcha got?" I grin at him.
"I was thinking beer. Brooke is practically molesting Tim over by the bar, and that is just something I don't need to see. And since there are beer containers everywhere, we wouldn't have to go by the bar to get our drinks!"
"I thought it was like cool with guys to watch each other get it on to a certain point. I seriously doubt they've crossed that point yet. Besides, I want hard liquor tonight, so if you won't brave the bar, I will!"
He sighs overdramatically. "Oh, fine, I'll go with you."
We walk over to the bar, and since it is self-serve, I step behind it and start mixing drinks for Tim and I.
"So, Tim, you didn't tell me that you actually had some cute friends," Jason jokes, "Why you holding out on me?"
Tim grins, "More for me, less for you!"
Brooke grabs Tim by the collar of his shirt. "Tim," she says in a deadly calm manner, "Do you remember our discussion earlier? Because we might've laughed, but behind every joke...well, you know the rest!"
She ends in a totally cheerful voice which has me cracking up immediately. Jason looks bewildered, but also bemused, so I take pity on him and explain Brooke's threat.
"Wow, you take this single thing seriously," he comments to Brooke when we all stop laughing.
"You never know who you'll meet," she grins rather obviously.
I grab Tim's hand, and we walk off. I pull him onto the makeshift dance floor, which in this case is just the common room with the furniture cleared to the side or out of the room. We dance to a bunch of popular rap songs before getting hot and following a group of people upstairs to a balcony.
"This is fun," I tell Tim, smiling, "It kind of makes me wish I'd left Tree Hill for college."
He nods, "I know what you mean." Just then a big chested blonde girl brushes up against him, obviously wanting his attention. I pat him on the shoulder to let him know it's alright to ditch me.
They go inside together, and I make a mental note to expand on Brooke's threat to him if this chick is the reason we don't get home tonight. The fresh air feels nice on my face, and I chat with a few of the people who revolve through here. I even accept a few offers to dance, but come back out in the fresh air when it gets warm again.
"Hey," calls a soft voice from behind me.
I turn around to see Jason. "Hey yourself! Brooke had her wicked way with you yet?" I ask with a smile.
He laughs. "She passed out. Was she drinking on the way here or something?"
I nod. "She and I both were."
"How come you aren't down for the count?" he asks, stepping closer. His arm is against mine now, and the heat of his body feels good.
"Oh, well, that's probably because she's much more of a champ when it comes to partying than I am, so she probably drank a whole lot more after we got here. I've only had two since we arrived," I laugh, "And that's enough!"
"Ah, so you're the sensible one?" he questions.
"I'm friends with Tim and Brooke, so I don't know how sensible I could possibly," I joke, getting him to laugh.
"So, what's your story?" he asks, smiling at me sweetly.
"My story?" I repeat, "I don't know. There is nothing that exciting about my story; nothing I can tell without having to kill ya later, anyways!"
He laughs. "Okay, how about I ask questions, and then you decide the merit of these questions and answer or don't answer accordingly. Sound like a deal?"
"Works for me," I smile.
"Single?" Well, he cuts right to the heart of things, doesn't he?
"Uh, yeah, I am." I feel so guilty saying that, and worse, I feel like a liar, but it is the truth, and if I want Nathan to move on, the best way is for me to do so as well.
"Really? Cool, me too. So, I gather you go to THCC. How long have you known Tim?"
I tilt my head to the side, thinking. "Probably since middle school. He used to be best friends with my, uh, ex-boyfriend in high school, but they stopped hanging out around the time I started dating his friend."
"Ah, so you just became friends recently?"
"Yeah, pretty much.
"Were you dating Nathan?" he asks out of the blue. I raise an eyebrow at him. He blushes, hastening to add, "Well, I mean, I knew that he was Tim's friend. I've met him a few times, years ago."
"Oh. Well, yeah, Nathan was my boyfriend." And so much more. "We broke up because he's at UCONN now, and I'm still in Tree Hill."
"That's rough. And you haven't started dating again yet?" He blushes, "Oh shit, that is probably way too personal, I'm sorry about that!"
"No, it's okay," I smile, surprised that I do mean that. "I haven't dated since Nathan left, no. It is actually really hard to move on, believe it or not."
"That's odd, with friends like Tim and Brooke, I'd think they'd be all about pushing you to move on. I'm surprised Tim doesn't hit on you left and right."
I laugh, "Oh, I think Tim knows what is good for him. Besides, that'd be a weird line to cross. At least with girls there is generally a 'don't screw with your friend's ex' rule, and even though Nathan and Tim aren't friends now, it'd be weird."
"There's a vague guy rule along those lines, too, but I don't think it is quite as strict. Basically, you just have to observe a case appropriate waiting period and then give a heads up."
I grin. "Oh, that is way more lenient than the girl rules. Of course, one of my – "I pause, unsure of how to describe my relationship with Peyton now, "Well, a friend had dated Nathan before I did, but it was one of those rare instances where the situation was just perfect and there weren't any hard feelings."
"Ah, so you've got experience with it, huh?"
I shrug. "Sort of, but not really. I became friends with his ex after they broke up, basically, so it wouldn't be like dating one of Brooke's exes or something."
"Of which I'm sure there are many, right?" he smiles.
"There's a few," I admit, "But not as many as she'd have people believe."
"She seems like a really nice girl," he comments.
"She really is," I marvel, laughing. At his raised eye, I explain, "We weren't friends. I wouldn't say we were enemies, but I'll admit I didn't have the world's greatest perception of her, either. I've really come to change my point of view in the last five months, though. Anyways, enough of me. What about you? What's your story?"
"Well, I'm from Raleigh, I'm 21 years old, I have two sisters, and I'm a Crim J major, hoping to get into law school in a year."
"Wow, law school? Which one?"
He shrugs, "You know, for awhile I thought it really mattered that I go to the best, but now? I don't know, a law degree is a law degree, and if I work hard and graduate high in my class, I'll still get hired. I kind of don't want to put too much effort into getting into Harvard or something now."
"Sounds like you've got it all planned out," I smile, "I envy that, actually. I have no clue what I want to do, which is weird because I've always been a very driven student."
"I've had three years here to figure it," he points out, "Plus, my parents wanted me to go to med school like my father did, but that held no interest for me. Of course, I also want to be rich, and law school is a good bet for that!"
I can't help but grin. "Well, we all want that!"
He ducks his head, laughing. "I suppose so. So, what are you interested in studying? You have to at least have some interest in something, right?"
I shrug. "I don't know, my life is so up in the air right now. It's stupid, but it's almost like I don't know who I am anymore."
He thinks about it for a few minutes. "Well, that sounds about right, Haley. You're what, 18? You can't possibly know what you want to do forever. Hell, I don't know for sure what I want to do forever."
"Oh, like you're so much older," I tease, rolling my eyes.
He laughs, "Fine, fine, so I'm not much older, and I'm definitely not any wiser, but still, don't freak out over not knowing. You'll figure it out, most everyone does."
"I just hate having things unsettled," I explain, "I'm weird like that."
"Oh, you're one of those neurotic, uptight, 'a place for everything and everything in its place' types?" he asks, serious.
I scrunch up my face in revulsion. "No! Absolutely not! Well, I don't think so, at least! Huh, no, I'm not."
He laughs, "I was teasing, don't freak."
All of a sudden there is a loud crashing noise from outside, and we look at each other, and head for the balcony. I was thinking Tim might be involved because he tends to lose control of his arms and legs when he's drunk, but what I see here is beyond any imagining I could've possibly done.
Tim is two floors down, hanging from a bungee cord. A fucking bungee cord that was attached to the balcony support on this floor. He's still about 8 feet off the ground, and since I know it wouldn't kill him, I'm tempted to unhook him up here.
"Tim, what the hell are you doing, you damn moron?" I scream down at him, "You could've killed yourself!"
He just laughs. The little shit laughs. "I'm bungee jumping, James, what the hell are you doing?"
I groan, burying my head on Jason's shoulder. "Your cousin is either insane or a raging moron," I inform him.
He just laughs, patting me on the back. "A little of both, I'm guessing."
"Tutor Girl!" I turn around to see if Brooke is okay, and judging by the look on her face she's none to pleased about something. She pulls me aside. "I told you I wanted Jason, why are you flirting with him?"
"Flirting?" I'm genuinely baffled, and more than a little amused if I'm being honest. "Brooke, look." I point over the balcony; she cautiously scoots forward, her jaw dropping open when she sees Tim hanging off the side of the building.
"That's Tim!" she says dumbly.
"I know." Deadpan.
"He's hanging for a bungee cord." She rubs her eyes and glances back down. "He's really down there."
"I know." I lower my voice so Tim can hear. "Dumbo down there thought it'd be a good idea to go bungee jumping off the side of a building with bungee cords wrapped around his waist. Isn't that a good idea?"
"Hey, how about instead of insulting me you guys ream out the assholes who told me this was a good idea? Or help me down, this is starting to hurt."
Brooke and I both roll our eyes, and Jason reaches over and unhooks, with a great deal of effort, the cords up here, causing Tim to crash to the ground. All three of us lean over the edge watching Tim groan and moan and rub his rear.
"Ow?" he says, looking up at us pitifully. The large crowd that has gathered up here with us is either laughing in earnest or trying their best to hold the laughter in.
"This is retarded," Brooke sighs, rubbing her temples.
I couldn't agree more. What a night.
"We could get some beer and some food coloring and make our own green beer," Brooke suggests.
"No," I protest, "Tim is still on beer ban."
Brooke laughs. "That is so not fair," he whines, "It's been over a month since the bungee incident."
"Oh, right, I forgot all about that," I laugh, "The Great Bungee Freak Show of 2007. Funny how that slipped my mind."
"You two are evil bitches, making fun of me and my accident!"
"Tim! How can you consider hooking yourself up to bungee cords and hurtling yourself over the edge of a three story balcony an accident?" Brooke sputters. "That's just stupid!"
He shrugs, "Well, what was the big deal? I mean, it's not like I broke anything." We both just stare at him, open-mouthed. "Okay, nothing besides a couple of ribs. That's no big deal. And it was fun. You two need to have more fun, that's all there is to it!"
I roll my eyes. "You are so ridiculous."
"Yeah, but you love me anyways," he grins, batting his eyelashes at us, which is kinda creepy, actually.
"Ew, don't do that," I laugh, swatting him on the arm.
"Seriously, Timmy, she's right, it is downright creepy," Brooke agrees.
"Again with the meanness," he pouts, and we crack up at him. If nothing else, Tim is good to lighten up pretty much any situation.
Brooke and I are lying side by side on the couch, kind of spooning in that way only really close girl friends can do. The first time we did it, Tim looked like he thought we were about to engage in porn-like behavior until Brooke got up and slapped him upside the head and informed him it was just a thing.
The TV is on in the background, but we've gotten to a point where we don't need that buffer anymore. We can just sit and talk to each other and laugh together with ease, and no need for extraneous conversation starters. Of course, it isn't until this instant that I really realize how close to them I've become. Hell, Brooke and I are girl-spooning!
My phone calls with Jake, Nathan, and Lucas are becoming fewer and farther between. I don't think it lessens the bonds I share with them, but maybe I have to admit to myself that the times, they are a-changing. We're still close, but it is different now. I have new friends, and so do they. Lucas is dating a girl he met at school; she seems really nice from the times I've chatted with her on the phone. Jake found a group of teen/early 20s single parents to buddy up with, and is now dating one of the girls he met there. And Nathan, well, he's got his buddies on the basketball team, and although he hasn't explicitly said so, I'm getting the feeling he's seeing someone.
I don't want to ask him – I'm afraid of what his answer will be. I try to tell myself that I'd be happy for him if this is the case, but that's not true. As much as I love Nathan and want him to be happy, I still don't think I can, not entirely anyways.
How do you get exactly what you wanted, or at least insisted you wanted, and be more miserable than you ever had been previously? Because that's me. Every time I think of Nathan or Nathan and I together, I feel crushed. It's my own doing, but no matter how many times I remind myself – which is a lot, I know – it doesn't matter. It doesn't get easier, nor does it hurt any less.
"What are we doing this weekend?" Tim asks, his voice startling in the silence that had overtaken us.
"Dunno," I tell him, too tired to think hard enough to come up with something interesting. Of course, even when I think I come up with something that is interesting, these two usually shoot me down in favor of something they cook up. Admittedly, their ideas are generally more interesting and definitely more exciting than mine.
"Let's go to the beach," Brooke suggests, "I know it's only March, but it's been warm the last two weeks. It'd be fun to get some sun."
"Oh, we could even bring our homework and do it there," I suggest, "It'll almost be relaxing."
Tim rolls his eyes. "You don't go to the beach to do homework, James! You go to the beach to drink and toss a Frisbee. Study, that's just – I don't know what it is, but it's something that isn't good!"
"You're so eloquent!" I retort, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "A great orator if ever I did hear one!"
He grins. "I don't know what that means, but I know it was mean. I won't hold it against you, though, I know how hard it is to be the one who thinks that a day at the beach involves books and learning!"
"Asshole."
"Geek."
"Okay, children," Brooke laughs, "You two need to grow up now, act your ages. Or something. But stop bickering!"
Tim and I join in with her laughter. "I was just thinking that we could stay caught up on homework that way. I was trying to be responsible," I defend.
"And no fun," Tim smirks.
"You're a brat, Smith."
He smiles proudly. "And I try very hard at it," he grins. "Very hard, indeed."
"We should go get ice cream," Brooke decrees, "I have a craving for mint chocolate chip. Or butter pecan."
I sigh. "Now I have a craving for ice cream. Why'd you have to bring that up?" I demand, poking her in the side.
Tim jumps up, grabbing his shirt. "Let's go, I'll drive!"
"No, you won't," Brooke counters, getting up off the couch, "Haley will. Your car stinks, and hers has that new car smell still."
He pouts, "Mine isn't that bad, Davis. I don't know what you're talking about it; I bought one of those air freshener things, and it's nice."
"Quit arguing," I order, "We'll take my car, and we'll all be happy about it. And we're going to get at least two flavors of ice cream because I feel like mixing!"
We file out to the car, joking and laughing with each other. Brooke shoves Tim when he teases her about her hair sticking up funny.
"Oh, guess what?" Tim says.
"What?" Brooke and I say in unison.
"I said 'guess', doesn't that mean anything anymore?" Brooke and I both groan in dismay as his grin grows at his stupid joke. "Okay, fine, spoilsports. Anyways, I got an 'A' on my Civ test last week, and since I owe it all to you two, I thought I'd take you out to dinner as a thank you. You cool?"
I gasp, clapping my hands together in delight. "Tutor Girl, get your hands back on the wheel!" Brooke commands.
"Sorry, Tigger," I grin, "I'm just really excited for Tim. That is so fabulous; I'm proud of you!"
He blushes a little. "Thanks, I'm kinda proud of myself, too. It's stupid, but it feels like a big accomplishment. Can't remember the last time I got an 'A' on something!"
Brooke pats him on the head. "Good job, Timmy. While we're buying ice cream, I'll buy you a cookie, too," she grins.
"You're a bitch, Davis," he grumbles, "You gotta go on and rain on my damn parade, don't you? Thanks."
"Aw, I'm teasing, Tim! Calm down, don't get your panties in a twist!"
"Not my panties, yours," he retorts, "Got 'em out of your drawer yesterday when you were searching for your math notes."
"Oh, God," I groan, "You both need to stop right now, this is going nowhere good." I fake a shudder.
"Seriously, Smith, some jokes aren't funny," Brooke snots, "And perversely joking about panty theft isn't funny."
Tim laughs. "You're just a big baby that can't take a joke! Come on, it was funny!"
I shake my head. "Disturbing, yes. Funny, not so much."
I pull into the parking lot, park, and we all jump out, running into the store. It turns into a little race, and Brooke and I gang up on Tim to hold him back. We're all laughing as we head for the ice cream aisle.
"Mint chocolate chip!" Brooke squeals, grabbing a carton. Tim takes it from her, setting it back down.
"No way. Chunky Monkey, all the way. Definitely Chunky Monkey," he grins, "And Rocky Road."
"Oh, no, Smith, you are not even dictating the ice cream choice tonight," I tell him with mock severity, "And if you are even gonna try, you're buying your own!"
"Seriously," Brooke agrees, "And if you take my mint chocolate chip away from me again, I will kick your ass from here to Raleigh."
Tim smirks. "Ooookay, note to self: never mess with Brooke's ice cream. File that away under 'good to know'."
"You two are such dorks," I smile, grabbing a carton of butter pecan. "And we're getting this, no fighting."
"You're gonna let us duke it out over the second flavor?" Brooke asks, eyes wide.
I laugh. "Why don't we each just choose one? I mean, we're at Tim's all the time, the ice cream will get eaten, right?"
Tim nods. "I'd eat it even without you guys," he grins.
"You better not; if I'm paying good money for ice cream, I expect it to be there when I get there!" Brooke asserts.
"Good money? It's three bucks," I point out.
We grab our ice cream, and wander through the rest of the store grabbing other random items. Tim grabs pretzels, claiming they're great with ice cream. Brooke and I just shrug, figuring it's a guy thing or something.
"We should get popcorn, too," Brooke decides, "You never know when you'll need popcorn for a movie night."
"As long as it is movie butter, I'll buy," Tim smiles.
"Cool." Brooke tosses some into her basket.
We embarrass the hell out of Tim by going to the feminine aisle, where Brooke spent ten minutes debating on the merits of different types of tampons with the stock boy, who looked as embarrassed as Tim. I just try to contain my laughter, occasionally voicing an opinion in Brooke's debate.
"You two are evil!" he exclaims when Brooke finally gets bored and we walk towards the checkout stand, tampon free. "I mean, I knew you were a little mean, and maybe even a little evil, but we're talking El Diablo here. Evil."
I ruffle his hair. "You're cute when you're embarrassed."
"You're cute when you're embarrassed," he repeats in a girly voice, mocking me, "And you are both still evil. Flattery does nothing to change that!"
"Aw, don't be mad." Brooke hugs him from the front, so I hug him from the back. "It's a Tim sandwich," she giggles.
"Isn't this cozy?" a bitter voice says from behind us, causing me to cringe inwardly. Recognizing it, I turn around to face him.
"Nathan, hi!" I step towards him to hug him, but seeing the implacable look on his face stops me. "I didn't know you were coming, did I?
"Obviously not," he smirks, gesturing to the three of us.
"I'm glad you're here," I smile at him, still cringing inwardly, though. "How long are you here for?"
"Just the night," he mutters, "Look, I'd better go. Have fun with your friends." He turns and walks away.
I glance at Brooke and Tim who are staring at us slightly open-mouthed. "You guys, I'm – I – I – "
Brooke nods, cutting me off, "Just go, Tutor Girl. Do what you have to, okay?"
I nod, choking up. I hug them both and run after Nathan, dropping my basket, and turn around long enough to toss my car keys to Brooke. "Nathan!" I scream as I run through the parking lot.
He turns around and glares at me briefly before turning around to continue on to his car. "Just go back to your friends, Haley. I don't have time for this bullshit tonight."
I finally catch up to him. "Nathan, stop! What are you doing? Why are you so mad at me?"
"I'm not mad, Haley," he says, sounding formal, "I am just finally giving you what you want – I'm moving on. Coming to visit you was a stupid mistake – I could have and did disrupt your bonding session with your moving on partners."
I grab his arm, sliding my hands down to hold his. "Nathan, what are you doing? Why are you so mad at me?"
He shrugs. "Who said I'm mad? I'm just realizing how stupid I am. Has nothing to do with you, really."
I haven't seen him this way in years. He used to freeze me out like this occasionally, but not for quite awhile now. It's unsettling, him doing it now.
"Nate, please. Talk to me! I don't deserve you freezing me out like this; I haven't done anything wrong!"
He seems to deflate at these words. "No, you haven't. But I have, that's the whole point. I've been holding onto this really childish hope that you weren't so serious about breaking up, that if I just saw you again I could convince you otherwise. I was wrong, though, it's obvious that's not the case."
"Are you mad that I have friends now?"
"No, I'm not. But it did drive the point home. You have a life that doesn't even remotely begin to include me, Haley, and it took seeing you with those two to realize that," he spits out. His face darkens as he looks over my shoulder. I glance behind me to see Brooke and Tim walking through the parking lot staring at us on their way to my car.
"That doesn't lessen what I feel for you," I tell him urgently, "You weren't just my boyfriend, Nathan, you were my fr – "
"No, I wasn't just your boyfriend, and I wasn't just your friend. I was your goddamn husband, too. Something you conveniently forget on a regular basis these days."
It hurts that he mentioned that. "Yeah, you were," I say quietly, "And I wouldn't change that, Nathan. Not for anything."
He spins away. "Just stop. I don't want to do this now. Hell, I don't know if I want to do it all."
"So, what? You're going to walk away? Leave me here in the parking lot by myself? That's great, Nathan," I say sarcastically, "Thanks a lot."
"Is it my fault your precious friends left?"
I throw my hands up in the air. "You know, you say it's not about that, it's not about them or me having new friends, but here you are, undermining them every chance you get! What the hell, Nathan?"
"Look, it doesn't matter anymore. You just do whatever you have to do, drive all of your old friends away. Just like you did with Peyton."
I just stare at him. I don't even know what to say to that; that comment is just that unfair. To his credit, he does flinch under my gaze, probably knowing he went too far with his uncalled for comments.
I turn and walk away. There is no way I can continue to do this with him. It hurts too much, and it honestly isn't getting either of us anywhere.
"Haley, wait," he calls, sighing. I ignore him and keep walking. "I'm sorry, that was low, and I didn't mean it," he says when he catches up to me.
"You're damn right it was low!" I explode, bursting into tears, "You have no idea how much guilt I have over everything that's gone on with Peyton!"
He wraps his arms around me, my back to his front. "I'm sorry, I know, baby, shh."
I continue sobbing, my knees going weak. Nathan lifts me into his arms, taking me to his car. "Why does it have to be so hard?" I ask him between sobs.
He sets me in the passenger seat, kneeling beside the car. "Shh, Haley J, it's okay, don't cry, baby. God, I'm sorry!"
I nod, laying my head on his shoulder. "It's okay, I'm sorry I hurt you."
He nods, brushing a kiss on my forehead. "I know. And I'm sorry I was an ass. You don't know how hard you are to get over, Haley James. I guess I just resent that you're asking that of me sometimes, resent how easy it is for you to move on."
I pull myself together enough to pull back and face him. "Oh, Nate, if you think it's easy for me, you just don't know. It is so hard. I miss you every day, and I even question breaking up with you. But then things like this happen, and it just reminds me of how hard it would be if we tried to maintain a long distance relationship. We'd be doing this – "I gesture between us, "All the time. I don't want that for us!"
He nods miserably. "I know, baby. Hang on a minute." He runs over and gets in the driver seat. I reach over and take his hand.
"You okay?"
"Nah. You?"
"Nah." I squeeze his hand. "At least we're both miserable, huh?"
He chuckles a little. "If you say so. Hey, I'm sorry I said that Peyton thing. I know you had nothing to do with it, and it was just unforgivable of me to suggest otherwise."
Lucas had held true to his promise and discussed getting Peyton help with Larry, who promptly flew up to New York City to confront her behavior. She ended up in the psych ward of a hospital up there, and we haven't heard anything from Larry or Peyton since. Nathan knows the whole story and all the details about Peyton's mental health problems.
I shake my head. "No, forget it. I know you, Nathan, and I know you didn't mean it. But you sure know how to get to me, don't you?"
"Hey, I was married to you, I ought to know a whole lot about you, right?" I'm surprised he's joking about that, it's not a subject either of us generally touch, even when things between us are perfect. "I am sorry."
"Me too. For so much."
He smiles at me. "You should go hang out with your friends. You guys looked like you were having fun," he says wistfully.
"We were," I agree, "But you're here for one night. Number one, they'll understand, and number two, I want to spend time with you. Come on, let's go to my house. My parents are in Williamsburg visiting Matt and his family." Of course they'd want to spend time with my oldest brother rather than me.
"Yeah, that sounds nice. Uh, Haley J? What about your car?"
"You can drop me off at Tim's apartment complex tomorrow, and I'll pick it up then," I decide, not wanting to worry about that for now.
"Alright, let's go."
And so we did."So, was it break-up sex?" Brooke asks, puzzled. Nathan left two days ago, but I was busy at the café and Brooke's parents showed up to feign an interest in her long enough to force her to attend some party, so this is our first chance to talk about it.
I shrug. "Hell if I know. It just was. Maybe it was closure sex or something, I don't really know."
"Was it as good as together sex?"
"It was the same," I shrug again, not sure where she's going with this. I'm even less sure if I want to know where.
"Huh. So, if it's the same as together sex, wouldn't that just make it together sex? Which would mean you're still together?"
Oh, how the mind boggles. "Uh, Brooke? We broke up months ago. This was so not together sex."
"Not officially, no, but it just tells me that you both have the mindset that you're still together. Now, that might run its course naturally, but I wouldn't be so sure."
I snort, very indelicately. "You're full of shit, Tigger."
"Yeah, I know," she laughs, "But still. I'm not that far off on this one. You and Nathan are so not over, no matter what you tell yourself and him. It's kind of stupid to insist otherwise."
I shrug. "Well, what can I do about it? I can't change how I feel, and I can't change how he feels. Circumstances just aren't on our side."
She smiles at me. "I know. And it'll turn out okay, just think positive."
"Since when are you all up on the power of positive thinking?"
"Er, since my parents hopped back on the plane outta Tree Hill," she grins, "God, it was shitty having them here."
I laugh. "Well, then I'm glad for you that they are gone. And thanks for understanding why I had to spend that night with Nathan. I didn't want to ditch you guys, but he was only here for one night. And things were so messed up."
"I still can't believe he threw that Peyton bullshit in your face."
"Well, he felt really bad about it," I say, "And he apologized about a thousand and one times."
"And well he should," she laughs, "I really am glad for you both that you've worked something out. I know it isn't the perfect resolution, but it's something."
Nathan and I had made a deal date other people. It was the only way we could figure that really made sense in terms of moving on. Brooke and Tim seem to think I should call Tim's cousin Jason, but I don't know if that's a good idea. I don't want to date anyone connected to our little group, and Jason is just too close.
But since we agreed to make an effort, the next time a guy shows interest, I won't be as standoffish as I have been the rest of this year. I'm already dreading the first time it happens; I know it will be awkward and sad and painful. Since Nathan said he might call his Valentine's Day date, I figure I should try, too.
Nobody ever said it'd be easy, though.