The Ones Left Behind

by scatteredlight

Life in Tree Hill after HS graduation. Haley's POV. Complete.

16. Carry That Weight

Chapter Sixteen – Carry That Weight

'Boy, you're gonna carry that weight

Carry that weight a long time

Boy, you're gonna carry that weight

Carry that weight a long time' - The Beatles

June 2010 Graduation Day

"It's peaceful here at night," Brooke comments about the stretch of beach we're sitting on. During the day, this place is insanely crowded as far as the eye can see.

"Cheap wine, cheap company, and cheap cover fee," I joke, laughing when Tim elbows me in the ribs.

"Hey, you're only getting away with that because it's graduation night, and I'm in a damn fine mood," he laughs.

Graduation. Another chapter of my life is finished, but of course, another is starting. Today was just a weird day. My parents weren't here, of course, and Brooke's definitely weren't, which isn't weird, but Karen and Keith are in Lansing with Eric for Luke's graduation, and Nathan is also graduating this weekend, so that's where Deb and Dan are. Even though I have Brooke and Tim, I still feel kind of abandoned, which is silly because I'm not their child. Plus, Karen feels absolutely horrid that she's missing this, and she's promised to make it up to me, even though I told her not to worry about it.

It's just a little hollow, this so-called accomplishment of mine. Aside from Brooke and Tim, there is no one to share it with. It's just us. Most of the time, this doesn't bother me, but for some reason tonight, I'm feeling it. I'm feeling that twinge of disappointment that comes from being the one left behind.

It's a weird time for all three of us, though. Tim has been offered a job in Durham which he is seriously contemplating; Brooke has another year of vet school left and is waiting to see what happens next week with Lucas in the draft; and me, well, I'm adrift. All I know is that the one thing I want is something that I can't have, and I am having a hard time defining my life otherwise right now.

"Are we going to kill each other all of us living in the same house?" Brooke asks out of nowhere.

"As long as the maid service comes once a week," Tim grins, "I will be just fine. Haley sucked for never letting me get one last year."

"Baby," I taunt, "We had an apartment that was like 800 square feet. I think we managed just fine."

"Yeah, but if we had someone in to do it, we'd not only be saving ourselves some time, but we'd have been helping the economy, James. You need to look at the big picture here!"

Brooke and I both groan. "Jesus, Tim, you are one lazy little shithead, aren't you?" she sighs in exasperation.

"And he's even proud of it," I chime in, "Look at him, look at that grin. He knows it and he loves it."

"He would," Brooke laughs. Tim just grins as we sit here talking about him. "So, really, we'll be okay, right?"

I shrug, "I don't see why not. I mean, it's a huge house, so at the very least, if someone needs space, they'll be able to find it. Besides, my parents haven't sold the house yet, and Tim has his parents to fall back on if you drive us too crazy."

She grins at my teasing, but Tim frowns. "I'm not moving back home. My parents are cool, but no thanks."

"Dumbass, she meant if you needed to get out, you'd have a place to stay," Brooke tells him, rolling her eyes.

"Oh," he exclaims, the lightbulb in his brain turning on suddenly, "I get it now. Shut up, you two."

I grab the jug of wine from Brooke. "I'm glad we did this," I comment, "There really was no other perfect way to spend tonight, was there?"

Tomorrow, on the other hand, is going to be about as far from perfect as it gets. Tomorrow is Tim's graduation party, which of course I will be attending. Also on the 'of course' front, so will Jason, along with Gina, Lola, and Marissa. It's not that I don't want to see them, but I know that they have no desire to see me, and it is bound to be uncomfortable.

If it wasn't something for Tim, I'd bail, but he's one of my best friends, and I can't and won't do that to him. Besides, if I go around avoiding my problems and my feelings forever, I'll just continue to end up in crappy positions similar to the one I am in now. And I don't want that, I really don't.

"I know we said it earlier, but who would've thought four years ago that the three of us would end up together, on a beach, drinking cheap wine directly from the bottles?" Brooke asks with a tipsy sounding laugh.

"Not me," I burst out, probably a little tipsy sounding myself, "Definitely not me. I thought I'd be all alone with no friends, holed up in some stupid library or something."

"I thought that about you, too," Tim grins, winking at me, "You were such a tutor girl back then."

"Hey, she's still my little Tutor Girl!" Brooke grins, "And I don't mean that in a bad way!"

"Give credit where credit is due," I laugh, "If it hadn't been for me, at least one of you wouldn't have made it through first semester at THCC!"

Tim covers his face in his hands. "That would be me you're referring to, don't deny it, we all know it."

"Aw, I was teasing Smith, we all know you're a lot smarter than you get credit for most of the time."

"I know you were teasing, but hey, it's the truth. I wouldn't have made it through without both of you. I hope y'all know that," he blushes as he gets a little sappy. Brooke and I, who are each sitting on one side of him, look behind him at each other, and then lean our heads on his shoulder.

"Ditto, Smith," I tell him, feeling myself choke up due to the mix of wine and emotion, "Ditto."

"We've done good," Brooke decides from her perch on his shoulder, "I'm serious for once, the three of us, we've done good as friends. You two have been amazing, I'm lucky to have you. I was just joking about the killing stuff earlier, by the way."

Tim and I laugh. "Wow, and I was really worried," Tim deadpans, "If there is anyone I'm afraid of, it is definitely you, Brooke Davis. Although, I tend to be more afraid of you when I'm awake, but whatever."

"And you better watch out for her right hook then," I join in, laughing when Brooke smacks Tim on the back of his head.

"I take back all the nice things I said about both of you," she pouts, "You two are nothing but big old meanies, and I want nothing to do with it."

"Yeah, and you're all sweet and innocent, right, Tigger?" I ask with a laugh. She leans around Tim, rolling her eyes at me.

"Shut up."

"Girls, girls, break it up. Unless one or both of you plan on stripping down to a white t-shirt and indulging in a midnight ocean fight."

"Ocean fight?" Brooke and I ask at the same time. "What the hell?" she finishes.

He shrugs. "I was just thinking, you two plus white t-shirts plus frosty ocean water equals happy Tim." He glances at me. "And you said I sucked at equations."

"Pervert," I mutter as Brooke jabs her elbow into his side.

"Seriously, Tim, face it – there is never going to be any girl on girl action featuring the two of us. You need to accept that and move on."

He grins optimistically, "You know what, though? You never know. One day, out of the blue, something could happen, and I'd be the happiest best friend on this planet ever!"

"You're crazy. And delusional. But whatever gets you through the night," I tell him, shaking my head against his shoulder.

"Believe me, these thoughts do get me through the night."

Brooke and I both jump up and away from him. "Jesus, Tim, that is disgusting! We're your friends, not some hoochies from the strip club! You shouldn't think of things like that!" I exclaim, glaring at him.

Brooke stands next to me, her hands on her hips. "Remember that time, must've been about three years ago now, that I told you if you got too close to me at a party I'd make you sorry in ways you couldn't even begin to imagine. That offer still stands."

He shudders, looking away. "Fine, I won't talk about that anymore," he pouts, "I'm scared of you, Brooke. At the very least, I saw what you did to Jason. I can imagine what you could do to more valuable parts."

"You're such a jackass sometimes," I sigh, shaking my head at him, "I wouldn't even blame Tigger if she strings you up."

"Thanks," he mutters sarcastically, "And I said I wouldn't bring that up anymore, and I won't even joke about it. Can we stop castrating me as an ass?"

Brooke and I both laugh. "Um, Timmy?" she asks, "Don't you mean castigate? Because castrating is exactly what you don't want to happen." I'm cracking up now.

"Whatever, I don't want either to happen, actually." His face is bright red, and starting to turn a little purple. "How do you know what castigate means, anyways?" he snaps at Brooke.

"Hey, it pays to have a big vocabulary. Using a big word once in awhile makes a big impression on people," she beams, clearly proud she knew what word he meant when he flubbed things.

"I'm coming to the conclusion that both of you are complete freaks," I grin, shaking my head at their banter.

"Yeah, and what does that make you?" Tim asks, "You're with us all the time, you must have some freak in you, too."

"She's Tutor Freak," Brooke laughs, taking another swig of wine, "And she likes it!"

I roll my eyes at them as they laugh like Brooke is Chris Rock nailing a comedy routine – and she is so not Chris Rock. "You guys really think you're funny, don't you?"

Brooke's drunken smile widens even further. "Oh, I know I am, but Timmy here, he's a little misguided if he thinks so," she stage whispers to me, giggling at the end.

"Ha, I am so funnier than you," he retorts, and as they drift into yet another childish argument that I do usually find amusing, I tune out.

It'd be nice if I could get into the friendly banter routine with them, but I can't. I've come off things that have had a lot of my attention before, but I've always been able to escape it with Brooke and Tim. But for the last three months since Nathan said he didn't love me in casual conversation, this particular outlet of escape has eluded me, no matter how hard I try.

I think I'm a little mad. At Nathan, for not waiting for me, but mostly at myself because I have made so many mistakes in regards to my relationship with Nathan that I killed it. I ended it, time and again through engagements, pushing him away, you name it, I did it. That's the damnedest thing, I know that there is no one else to blame besides me. Nathan pushed for me to accept that we could make it work for a really time – he had faith, I didn't. Jason, I can't blame him either, he always gave me the space needed in the beginning to figure out what I wanted and needed. All of my friends recognized that I still wanted Nathan for a long time there.

It's hard, though. I still think it was the right decision to break up – both of us needed the time and distance to gain perspective as to whether this relationship was right for us. Too bad we each ended up deciding different things, I guess.

I guess in the end it is for the best. How could it not be, right? Yeah, it sucks that I know now I'll never have that second or third or fourth or whatever chance this would be with Nathan, but wouldn't it suck worse to have him when I'm not what he really wanted? Isn't that exactly why I couldn't marry Jason when it came down to it? As far as I can tell, it would be the most awful thing ever.

So maybe it's time to be glad. Time to accept that this is the way things are, and that even if I don't like it, it is for the best. Move on. Too bad all of these things are so hard to get a damn handle on.

"Tutor Girl!" Brooke shouts, snapping her fingers in front of my face, "Where the hell were you?"

I haven't talked much about what happened after Nathan's game with either of them, and now isn't the time to start, so I just shrug. "Just out there," I say vaguely.

They both look at me dubiously, but neither push the issue. "Well, finish your jug," Tim suggests, handing my wine to me.

"Yeah, okay," I agree as I lift the bottle to my mouth. "Shit, you guys? We're too drunk to drive, and who the hell will come get us now? It's the middle of the night," I groan.

Both of their mouths drop open. "Uh, um, maybe we could stay here?" Brooke manages to stutter out, looking around the deserted beach.

"It's already getting cold," Tim whines, glancing at his watch, "And it's almost midnight, we can't call my parents."

"Tim, call your brother," Brooke orders, "He's sixteen, so he's probably up anyways. No respectable sixteen year old is asleep at midnight on a Saturday."

"God, he's probably drunk, too," Tim sighs, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "I'll try, though."

Brooke and I huddle together while he does so, picking up the blankets and brushing the sand off of them.

"You're okay, right?" she asks, peering intently at me.

I nod, smiling softly. "Yeah, I'll be okay, Tigger," I assure her, "I've got you and Luke and Tim, what more could I need, right?"

She wraps an arm around my shoulder. "You think that Tim and Luke will be able to get along?" she asks, chewing on her lower lip nervously, "I mean, I know Tim did some really shitty things to Luke in high school, but that was a long time ago, so maybe they'll be able to move on?"

I shrug, not being able to definitively give her the answer she wants. "Well, I'm sure they'll come to some sort of understanding, but I can't promise it won't take awhile. Anyways, you'll just lay down the law and guilt them both by reminding them how much they mean to you, and they'll fall in line."

"You think that's all it'll take?"

"Dunno," I admit, "But they won't act like ten year olds. Unless there is a video game involved or something. It'll work out in the end, though, I don't doubt that."

She nods. "I hope so. It'd be really nice if they could be friends, or if not that, at least friendly towards one another."

I laugh, "Well, they probably will; at least when you're in the room. I mean, they know what's up, Slugger."

She laughs, too. "I just hit him once, and not that hard."

"Tigger, he had a black eye for a week and a half or something, wasn't it?"

She shrugs, still laughing. A proud look has also crossed her face. "Yeah, I think it was actually pushing two weeks, thank you very much."

"You're terrible. And a terribly good friend," I smile, laughing as she hugs me.

"I am, aren't I?" she laughs. Tim turns back around, shutting his phone. "So, will he pick us up? I'll flirt with him," she jokes.

"Oh, God, bad visions," he mutters, "But yeah, he will. Without the promise of flirting, so you can skip that part, okay?"

"Sure, will do, sir," she chuckles.

Tim steps between us, throwing an arm over each of our shoulders. "So, this is it, the end of an era. Weird."

"You're so melodramatic, Smith," I tease, smiling up at him, "It's not like we won't be seeing each other more often now or anything."

"Don't be such a brat, James, I was just opining on the fact that our lives are drastically changing now! Let me have that, at least!"

"I can't believe you know what opine means," I laugh, as we walk up to wait for his brother. As we go, I have to let myself think that maybe things will be okay – I have great friends, and they've got me through a lot so far, why can't they get me through this?

"This is going to be a mess," I hear Brooke saying as I walk down the stairs, "Someone's ass is going to get kicked today."

"And you'll do the kicking, right?" Tim asks with a sigh.

She snorts. "I didn't say that," she snaps, defending herself, "And besides, I'd only do something with good reason and you know it."

"I just hope that they all kind of behave themselves. She doesn't need to be yelled at by them anymore; besides, it'll have been a year next week, so it isn't like it's too fresh. I'm just worried they'll pile another guilt trip on her."

It's sweet that they're worried about me, it really is. But this is Tim's day, Tim's graduation party, and he shouldn't be worrying about me before it! I walk down the last few steps and into the living room where they're standing close together.

"Whatever happens, you guys, I'll be fine. I can take being yelled at by your entire family, Tim. It's okay."

They both jump in surprise at the sound of my voice. Tim turns around slowly. "You shouldn't have to be yelled at by anyone, though, that was the point."

I smile. "It's a nice thought, that, but we both know it isn't true, and even if it is, it doesn't really mean anything. Look, don't worry about me, I will be okay."

Brooke nods. "We know you will, Tutor Girl, but that isn't the point."

"So, what is the point exactly?" I ask, although I am more than a little sure that I am not going to want to know the answer.

"The point is, when they start hounding you and making you feel bad, I'm going to step in." I open my mouth to protest, but she holds a hand up, effectively stopping me. "No, I am. They have no right anymore, a year – a year! – later, to keep harassing you about it. No right. And I'm going to make sure they are aware of that fact."

"Everything will turn out fine, I promise," I assert. They both look completely disbelieving, and I probably do, too, at least to some extent. As much as I know Jason and his family do not want to see me, that's about how much I don't want to see them either.

"If you say so," Tim sighs, "And I'll do my best to make sure they all know that it won't be tolerated if they go after you."

I shake my head. "No, Tim, don't say anything about me to them, I mean it. I'll avoid them, and things will be peachy. Try not to worry so much."

He nods. "Fine, I won't. I'm gonna go make some breakfast, either of you want anything?" We both decline, thanking him anyway.

Brooke looks over at me. "You're crapping your pants, aren't you? I can tell, don't deny it. You're nervous as hell."

I shrug. "Sure, I'm nervous. Last time I saw Jason's family, the youngest one slapped me and the other two pointed out how much they hate me. It won't be comfortable to see them again, that's for sure."

"Well, come on, let's go upstairs and get dressed. I'll even do your hair today, you have to look hot for the ex."

I roll my eyes, but comply, following her up the stairs. "This is going to be torture today," I mutter, feeling overly stressed about everything. "I can already feel their glares directed at me."

She shrugs. "Yeah, but there is nothing you can do about it. Just stay strong, and don't give them the satisfaction of making you visibly uncomfortable."

"Easier said than done, Tigger," I whine, the nerves I have overwhelming me. She just grabs my arm and drags me into her room.

"Look, we're going to deal with this the best way I know how. And that way is dress you up like you're my own personal Barbie doll," she grins, pushing me down onto a chair. "Okay, this is going to be great," she enthuses.

I roll my eyes, but let her have her way. One, it's easier, and two, this day will be easier to face if I'm looking good. No doubt about that.

"Let's do it, then," I sigh, leaning back and closing my eyes as she goes to work on my hair.

"It'll be okay," she says quietly, "I've got your back, and Tim does, too. It'll all be alright." She crinkles her nose, realizing how optimistically dumb she sounds, and laughs.

"You sound like a new-age 'all you need is love' type guru," I laugh, "And it is kind of freaking me out."

"Hey, you say that like there's something wrong with it," she accuses, tugging on my hair, "Be nice!"

"I was kidding. But you're right, it will be alright. Weird, and probably awkward, sure, but it will be alright."

"I hope so," she murmurs, picking out eye shadows for me to wear today. "Tim won't admit it, but he's pretty proud of himself, and I know he'd like everyone to behave today."

"See, this is why I didn't want to date my friend's cousin in the first place," I groan, "Shit always happens, and then there are awkward, tense situations like this. I hate this, I hate that I put us all in this situation."

"Well, it's already been done, and it was a long time ago, so everyone can just officially get over it. Maybe they'll have moved on," she says, again with the optimism.

"Pfft, in my dreams," I sigh, "But you know what? It doesn't matter – this is Tim's day, and I am not going to be involved in anything that might ruin it."

"Then there's no problem here. If something shitty happens, the blame will rest where it belongs."

"Yeah." She moves over towards her closet. She pulls a few things out and hands them to me. "I have my own clothes, Tigger," I laugh.

"I know," she smiles, "And you're dressing much better now than before we hung out, but it's fun to wear other people's clothes sometimes. And you need some fun. Besides, that outfit will be perfect."

"Ha, like we don't wear each other's clothes almost every single day," I remind her, "You're crazy."

"Just a little bit. Anyways, this is a different sort of situation, so it's not out of line for you to look extra extraordinary, especially if it rubs things in the a certain ex-asshole's face some."

I can't help it – I laugh. I laugh because she's right and I laugh because I needed to. "Thanks, I needed that laugh," I admit, "And you're right, looking good is a great way to make any situation a little more bearable."

"We must be spending too much time together if you're agreeing with me on this one," she comments dryly.

"Well, it's not like I think I deserve or even have a reason to rub it in his face, but it doesn't hurt to have a little extra self-confidence for a situation like this," I smile.

"Get dressed," she orders, stepping back to the closet to pull out her own outfit, "This is going to be a fun day. We're going to celebrate with Tim, and I'm not going to sit here waiting for Luke to call, and you're going to snap out of this funk that you've been in since you saw Nathan last."

I look up at her in surprise, nearly tripping over the skirt I'm sliding on when she says this. "What do you mean?" I rush out.

She rolls her eyes, tossing me a belt. "Tutor Girl, please. I'm not that dense that I wouldn't notice. Hell, Tim is that dense, and he noticed. Something changed there, and it obviously wasn't the way you wanted. What gives?"

"Why are you bringing this up now?" I snap, suddenly irritated with her, with Nathan, with the world in general.

"Because I'm tired of you moping over something that for whatever reason, you think you can't have. And I'm even more tired that you're moping without even trying for it."

"I tried," I argue heatedly, "I tried, and I used up all my chances, and I'm not laying myself out there again."

"Oh? How exactly did you lay yourself out there this last time? Did you tell him you love him? Did you tell him he's the only one you've ever really loved? Did you tell him that you've realized that you don't want to live your life without him?" I remain silent, which is answer enough for her. "I didn't think so."

"You don't understand."

"You're right," she agrees, sighing at me, "I don't understand. I don't understand why you would let go of something that you want so bad. I don't understand why you'd roll over and give up like this. I don't understand, and I think it's pitiful. And when you couple it with the fact that you're acting like a depressed teenager, I really don't understand and I think it's downright pathetic."

Wow, who better to lay things out for you than your best friend? "Way to hold back," I spit out sarcastically, "How sensitive of you."

"Grow up," she retorts, "Sue me for being the one to actually say it. You know, I love you, but you need to look at your priorities in life – go after something you really want for a change, hold on to someone you love."

She turns and stalks out of her own damn room, leaving me behind half-dressed with a ton of things to think about. Maybe she's right, maybe I gave up too easily. The thing is, there is such a thing as too little, too late, and that's what it was with Nathan. I was too little, and I was definitely too late.

It's okay, though. It has to be so that I can be, too. And I need to be okay, oh, how I need to be okay. It feels like years – four, precisely, since I've been okay. I've been flitting around, and while I've sustained and made some great relationships, but I haven't found what I was looking for, which is what I had all along.

I'm not unhappy, I'm really not. How could I be when I have three of the best friends anyone could ask for, right? But still, there are pieces missing; I'm not whole right now. The thing is, though, I'll never have that thing, that piece, I want to make me whole. Nathan won't be mine.

But more important things – I was an ass to Brooke just now. I've been an ass for the last three months, and I owe her an apology. I finish dressing quickly, and then step out of her room to go find her. She didn't go far – she's sitting at the top of the stairs. I sit down next to her.

"Hey," I call softly, "I'm sorry I got so snippy. And I'm even more sorry that I tried to hide the fact that something was wrong all this time."

She glances over at me, managing a small smile. "You don't have to apologize. I just thought we were good enough friends to say those things to each other."

"God, Tigger, we are! You're my best friend!" I tell her, urgently, "How could you think otherwise?"

She rolls her eyes at me, shrugging the hand I'd laid on her shoulder off of her. "Real friends can talk to each other about anything. They don't hide stuff like this, not the way you do. I really don't get it. There aren't these trust issues there, you know?"

"It isn't like that, Tigger," I sigh, "I trust you as much as I trust anyone else. This was just so hard, and I felt so stupid, and – and – and – "

"And what?" she asks softly, as I stutter, choking back tears.

"And if I say it," I whisper tremulously, "Then it is even more real. And Tigger, I don't want this to be real."

She brushes a strand of stray hair out of my face. "I'm sorry. I know it is hard, but Hales, you can't just ignore it or keep it bottled up."

"Why not?" I ask petulantly, "It's been working well enough so far."

"Has it really? Do you feel any better? Are you doing a better job of dealing with the problem? Don't answer, it is rhetorical, I already know the answer."

I shake my head. "It's just hard, Tigger, and I don't know how to talk about it, okay? I don't know how to say that he doesn't love me and he doesn't want me anymore. How do you say it? How do you say it when saying it is what makes it true?"

"You just do," she murmurs, wrapping her arms around me, "And you cry and let it out, and then you pick up the pieces and move on."

"I don't know how to move on," I whisper, "I was supposed to move on four years ago when he left, and I never did, not really. I'm afraid if I try again the same thing will happen – I'll mess it up, hurt people."

"What happened? With Nathan, I mean," she clarifies unnecessarily, "How'd you get to this point; what'd he do?"

I shake my head. "He did nothing besides be honest." I sigh, leaning back on my elbows, needing some space. "I went with his family after the game to say hi, and I was hoping we could talk. Of course everyone had seen the fight, so there was talk of that, and he asked what it was about. I explained, and he scoffed at the mere idea that anything would be going on between he and I since he knew I didn't love him, and since he sure doesn't love me anymore."

"He said that?" she winces.

I nod. "Yeah, he did. Just like that. I don't know how he possibly could have made it clearer unless he hired a skywriter. It was humiliating, especially since he was the only one who didn't seem to have a clue how I feel."

"Maybe no one else noticed, either," she says, obviously only to make me feel better. I just look at her and she shrugs, "Well, it's possible."

"No, it isn't. They all knew. How could they not? God, Tigger, how could he not?" I ask, crying in earnest now.

"Maybe he did," she shrugs. I look up at her sharply. "I don't know," she continues, "But maybe he's trying to spare your feelings or something."

"God, don't say that," I spit out with a bitter laugh, "That would be a million times worse. I don't want his pity or sympathy. Nothing like that."

"Maybe he's just a clueless typical male then," she suggests, "Or maybe he thinks you don't feel that way about him, so he doesn't want you to know how he really feels."

"Brooke, he's never hesitated to tell me before, so why would he start now? It doesn't make sense. Believe me, I've been over every single possible loophole in my mind, every possible reason he could have been lying or whatever. And none make sense. Not one."

She looks down at me. "Look, I guess you should know he'll be home next week to watch the draft with everyone."

I look at her blankly. Why hasn't the thought of him coming home even crossed my mind? "Permanently?" I choke out.

She shrugs. "Doubtful. Draft is next weekend, so he'll probably take up residence wherever he goes in that. That's what Luke thinks anyways."

"Right, of course," I nod, not having thought of that. "Well, I mean, it isn't like he'll want to hang out with me or anything. I probably won't even see him."

She rolls her eyes. "Sure you will, and we both know it. Barbeque, Dan and Deb will freak if you don't show up."

I groan, "Yeah, I know. I was pretending, though, living in denial. You could've left me there for awhile, you know."

She giggles. "Nah, it's my job to drag your ass out of there. It's better for you this way, trust me."

I shrug, pulling myself to my feet. "Well, whatever, let's go fix my makeup and get downstairs to meet Tim. It's getting close to time to go," I point out.

She glances at her watch. "Damn, we better haul some ass," she agrees, jumping up. "This is going to be a weird little party."

"Thanks, Captain Obvious, I think we all knew that one."

She slings an arm over my shoulder. "Shut up, you ingrate. Now come on, let's go."

We finish getting ready as quickly as we can, and then we rush downstairs to meet Tim.

"Bout time," he grins, "I've been waiting ten minutes for you two and your lame, primping, girly asses."

"Shut up, Tim, you spend nearly as much time getting ready as we do, and you don't even have half the amount of hair that we do!" Brooke retorts, poking him in the side.

"Hey, that is not true!" he argues, "Well, fine, maybe a little true, but that's because I'm not as naturally gorgeous as the two of you. I have to work for it."

Brooke and I look at each before aw-ing at him. "You're so sweet sometimes," she laughs.

"Sugary sweet," I agree, "I think he wants something."

"Nope, just noting that I'm aware I'll be with the two hottest ladies in town today as my dates."

"Dates? For a family barbeque?" Brooke questions.

"Well, you know what I mean," he shrugs, "Anyways, come on, let's get going. You're driving, right, James?"

"How could I say no?" I ask wryly, "After all it is your day, Smith."

I follow them to the car, and we pile in, rocking out to Rolling Stones' songs on the short drive to his parent's place. We're all quiet aside from the singing, each thinking of the possible outcomes of this gathering of people. It'll be interesting; that's the nicest adjective I can come up with to describe this thing.

We're singing along to 'Ruby Tuesday' when I pull up in front of the Smith house, parking along the street. Jason's car is here already, as is one I recognize as being Gina's. I sigh, mentally fortifying myself to handle this day with at least a small modicum of dignity and grace.

"You ready?" Brooke asks us as we step out of the car. Tim and I both know the question is more directed at me, though.

"You betcha," I say, forcing a smile. It becomes a little more genuine as Tim links arms with me in a silent show of support. "Thanks," I whisper to him as he opens the front door, Brooke trailing behind us.

"It's gonna be okay, James," he says, squeezing my arm a little.

I nod. "Yeah, I know, I'm okay."

We walk through the door and into the living room where the rest of his well-wishers are hanging out.

"Tim!" His dad grins at him as he walks through the door, "Our oldest son, the college graduate!"

I disengage myself from Tim's arm so that he can go accept the hugs from everyone who is here to see him. Brooke moves to my side, grinning at me as she lays her arm on my shoulder, resting her chin there.

"He's so cute, getting all the hugs," she laughs, delighted, "Where's Grandma Smith with the cheek pinching? She's my favorite."

I smile back at her. "Probably warming up her fingers." I don't know if it is mostly just paranoia, but I feel the heat of people's gazes on me.

"You've got some admirers," she whispers, "I mean, not admirers, but people glaring at you. Lola looks like she would throw knives at you if she had some in her hands."

"Yeah, I get it," I sigh, shaking my head at her, "But at least we haven't had to duck yet."

My attempt at joking works as she looks at me admiringly. "Haley James, bringing the funny, color me impressed," she grins, "I'm so proud of you."

"You would be," I laugh back, "I really am becoming you, I guess. And hey, it's working out well so far, so I guess I won't complain about it."

"You're doing well," she encourages, dropping her voice back down to a more reasonable level. I dare to glance up and look around the room, and I see Jason, with his back to me, talking to Gina. Lola and Marissa are standing side by side glaring at me and whispering, inevitably about me. "They're just bitter, ignore it."

"I am," I tell her, thinking that should be at least fairly obvious. "Let's go to the kitchen and get some drinks," I suggest.

"Sounds good," she agrees, leading us out. Brooke passes through the door by Lola and Marissa, but they jump in front of it, forcing me to stand and face them.

I don't say anything, just stand here and wait to see what they have to say. "I guess this isn't the time or the place," Lola says, looking me up and down like I'm shit on the bottom of her shoe, "But you don't belong here. You aren't a part of this family, and you really have no business being here."

Brooke grabs her arm from behind, whirling her around to face her. "Brooke," I begin, "Drinks, let's go."

I step around the girls, and grab Brooke to lead her off. She stops though. "Just remember, I did damage to your brother's face, think what I could do that pretty little one of yours."

"God, Brooke," I moan, dragging her away, "What the hell did you have to do that for? As if I haven't fucked everything up enough as it is. You had to go and threaten her!"

She just grins cheekily in response. "Hey, I'm just doing what I need to, and what you need me to do."

"I don't need you to threaten people who already have plenty of reasons to hate me, okay?" I remind her, imploring that she'll be on her best behavior for the rest of the day. "Besides, you promised Tim."

"Damn, that last one was a cincher," she admits, "I'll behave. Well, I'll try to behave, because I mean, we both know what 'behave' means for me sometimes."

"Yes, we do," I agree, smirking at her. "But trying is good. Very good indeed. And anyways, let's just forget about that shit, we'll stay on the opposite side of rooms, and if necessary, we'll find different rooms to hang in."

"You are sucking all the fun out of these family feuds," she grumbles, pretending to pout. "I mean, if people are going to hate you, you should at least have some fun with it."

"There is nothing fun about this," I laugh wryly, "In fact, it's the opposite of fun! This is miserable and depressing. Well, mildly depressing. I honestly think these are the first people ever to hate me. Or at least for a real reason."

"The first time is the weirdest," she laughs, "We could make a whole 'first time' metaphor out of this, you know, but since Grandma Smith just came in the room, I won't start." She starts over towards Tim's grandmother, who she just adores. "Grandma Smith!"

I roll my eyes and sit down at a barstool. "Having fun yet?" a voice asks from behind me, startling me a little.

"Uh, I'm fine," I return, tucking my hair behind my ears. "If you want to yell at me, we're taking it outside. I promised Tim that things would be kept peaceful today, for him."

He shakes his head. "I don't want to yell. Actually, I wanted to apologize. For real, this time. They way I treated you at the basketball game," he begins, shaking his head, "It was awful. You didn't deserve it. I'm sorry."

I glance sideways at him, tentative about accepting this olive branch. "Um, apology accepted." I don't know what else to say.

He moves to sit on the barstool next to mine. "How'd we get here?" he asks, picking at the napkin his drink is sitting on. "I mean, things used to be so easy, and now look at us, can't even look at each other."

"I assume that's a rhetorical question," I sigh, reaching over to grab a Diet Coke. "But I know what you mean. I still can't figure out where I went wrong, where I messed things up so badly."

"Wouldn't that be saying yes when I asked you to marry me?" he comments, but his voice is surprisingly free of bitterness.

I shake my head. "I don't think so. In that moment, I meant it. I did, Jason, you should believe that if nothing else. That was a perfect moment, and I meant then that I wanted to marry you." I fiddle with the pull-tab of my pop can. "I don't know, it was sometime before or after that, I'm not sure, exactly. I can't pinpoint it."

"Maybe it was the second you agreed to go out with me that first time."

I look at him sadly, hurt he thinks that low of me, that low of himself. "It wasn't like that, Jason. It never was. I'm sorry things got to a point where you can reasonably think that is how it was." I sigh, continuing, "Maybe, though. Maybe I never should've agreed to go out with you in the first place. I don't know anymore."

"Its okay, Haley. Looking back on things now, I know I pushed you."

The thing is, he didn't. Things progressed at a normal pace between Jason and I, but it wasn't the relationship I wanted. That's why it didn't work. But I can't tell him that, of course.

I look over at him again. "I am sorry, you know."

"You've said so many times," he smiles.

I nod. "Yeah, but I mean it, and sometimes – well, always – I don't think you realize just how sincere I am in saying it."

"I know." He turns in his stool to face me full on. "I do know. It was tough to accept – who wants to accept an apology in something like this, right? But I know it, and truth be told, I've known all along."

"Thank you," I tell him sincerely. A part of me needed to hear this, to know he knew. And I'm really grateful he told me.

"You're welcome. I guess things can't always work out exactly how you wanted them to each and every time, huh?"

I lower my eyes, sighing. "No, they sure can't. You should also know that I did want things to work out for us, Jase. It hurt me, too, that they didn't. That they couldn't."

"I know," he sighs, "I know. It just – that doesn't make it easier, you know?" I nod, understanding. "I mean, even this talking is hard."

I can feel my face falling, so I duck my head to cover it. I don't want him to see it and feel bad for me, because he shouldn't. He really shouldn't. "I – I don't know what else to say," I admit.

"Yeah, there probably isn't anything else," he concedes, "But I just wanted to say that I was sorry for the game. I was a jerk, and you didn't deserve that."

"Thanks for that," I reply softly.

"Yeah, no problem. See ya."

I watch as he walks away, and the second he's out of the room, Brooke makes a beeline for me, parking herself on his empty. "What was that?" she gasps, "Was he giving you more trouble? Because if he was, I am ready to – "

"Tigger, chill. its fine, he apologized for the game."

"He apologized?" she blinks, like it's the most foreign concept in the world. Well, in all fairness, it kind of is.

"Yeah, he did. Weird, huh?" I laugh at the shocked expression on her face. "It wasn't a big deal. He didn't absolve me of all my guilt, obviously, but he was cool. Maybe things won't suck as much if I run into him now."

She leans forward planting her elbows on the bar. "Wow, can't lie, I'm pretty surprised. That's just too much."

"Yeah, he really did give me more than I deserve from him, you know? So this is good, a good thing."

She shrugs. "Yeah, well, after a year of being a complete dickhead to you, this is the least he could do."

"My brother had every right to be a dickhead to her after what she did," Marissa says from behind us, causing Brooke to knock over her drink. I sigh, turning around to face her. She has a triumphant smirk on her face, probably for having caught us by surprise.

"Look, squirt," Brooke says in her snottiest tone, "This is Tim's graduation party, and we're here for him, not to mingle or interact or even look at you. So back off, we weren't doing anything to you anyways."

Marissa narrows her eyes at us, planting her hands on her hips. I look at her sharply. "Just go, Marissa. This isn't the time or the place, and frankly, what has happened or what will happen at any point between Jason and I is not your business. It just isn't. You might not like that, and I might not even blame you, but it is the way it is."

She glares at me, taking a step closer. "You hurt my brother; of course it is my business! You're even dumber than I thought if you don't get that."

"I get that just fine, Marissa, but this isn't necessary anymore. Believe me, Jason has said his piece, and he doesn't need you to fight his battles. And I'm sorry I hurt all of you, especially Jason, but it wouldn't be better now if I'd gone through with it."

She steps back, her lips tightening in anger. "You're right, the only thing that would've been better if you'd never come into his life, if you'd never been born, for that matter."

Brooke gasps, outraged on my behalf. "Listen up, you little bitch – "

"Brooke!" I exclaim, standing up, "Tigger, come on. We're going outside. You can tell me about the plans you and Luke have for next week." She is still staring Marissa down, so I yank on her arm. "Come on."

Reluctantly, she follows. She's still fuming when we get out back, though. "Damn her, she has no right, Tutor Girl, no right. I swear, if she wasn't young, I'd kick her ass."

"No, you wouldn't," I comment mildly, "And anyways, what does it matter? Jason and I have made some semblance of peace, so honestly, what anyone else thinks doesn't matter as much to me now."

She looks surprised. "But it was always so important that they forgive you, too," she points out, referring to Gina, Lola, and Marissa.

I allow myself a small smile. "Well, Tigger, in the words of your boy Mick, you can't always get what you want."

"But sometimes, you just might get what you need," she finishes, grinning back at me. "So, do you have what you need?"

"I don't know. I mean, my life is a complete mess courtesy of myself, but Jason being willing to talk to me a little, being willing to talk about the debacle that occurred at the game, that was huge. Really good. I did need that."

We sit down on the grass. "Well, good," she smiles, "I'm glad. At least that's a start, right? Now you can go after what you really want!"

"Brooke," I start, a warning in my voice. There is no way in hell I want to get into what I really want, which is Nathan, here, around Jason and his family.

"Don't worry, I wasn't going to say anything. But you do need to face facts, and just go for it, finally. I mean, I have my Scott brother, you should get yours, too."

The door swings open, and much to my relief, it is just Tim coming out. "Hey," I say, smiling up at him, "Enjoying the big Tim party?"

He plops down beside us. "I enjoy anything that celebrates the greatness that is me."

"You're a fool, Timmy Boy," Brooke laughs, "But there's something about you that I can't help but love."

"Must be the fact that he can tie his own shoelaces," I remark dryly, nudging Brooke in the side.

"I was thinking it was that we finally have him trained to pee in the toilet, not on newspapers."

"Oh, and I'm glad he finally stopped chewing up all of my shoes," I grin, laughing.

"Thanks, like I really needed my best friends to compare me to a puppies and babies," he laughs, lying back on the grass. "So, how'd it go in there? Saw you talking to Jase," he says to me, and to Brooke, "I saw you trying to intimidate Riss."

"She was going after my little Tutor Best Friend; I had to jump in," Brooke defends, rolling her eyes him, "Besides for such a little brat, she sure gives as good as she gets."

"She's like six inches taller than you, Brookie," he laughs, "She could kick your ass. Only one in the family who could, but hey, we've got to go with what works."

I lie back next to Tim. "It doesn't matter, it's over, crisis averted."

"So, what are you two doing out here? Enjoying the sun or hiding from certain members of my family?" he asks.

"What do you think?" I ask, rolling my eyes heavenward, "Brooke was about to throw punches."

She laughs. "Oh, no, just a nice, smart slap across the face. That would've been enough in this case."

"What happened with Jason?" he asks more quietly.

"It was okay," I tell him, "He apologized for how he acted at the game. It was, well, pleasant, I guess."

"That's an improvement," he grins, "That's good, really good. I'd like to think that I had something to do with it." I stare at him. "You know, since it's my party, and you're being nice for my sake."

"Whatever, Smith," I laugh, "My niceness to him has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me and him. I know, shocking, the world, not revolving around you yet."

We all quiet down and stare up at the clouds for awhile. It's peaceful and calm, and I feel better than I have in a long time. Coming to a sort of peace treaty with Jason is huge right off the bat, and being with Brooke and Tim like this is great. We might hang out all the time, but sometimes it's moments like this when I realize how much it means.

"So, I'm going to take the Durham job," Tim says, somewhat out of the blue. Brooke and I are both up on our elbows immediately to look at him. "What?" he asks, defensively.

"Well, that's a little surprising," Brooke points out, careful with her wording so as not to offend him, "I mean, just two days ago you were saying you didn't like them. What changed?"

He shrugs, "I don't know, it's just that I want to have something, I want to have that security you only get through having a job. And it's a good job, and who knows, maybe I'll really like it."

"Well," I say, clearing my throat, "Then I'm really happy for you, Smith, I know you'll be great at it." Truth is, he probably will. It's in marketing, which he did graduate with a focus in, and he's clever enough to be really great in that area if he tries.

"Thanks, I'm kind of excited. Nervous, too, I think, but really excited. I've never exactly had a real job before."

"You'll be great," Brooke promises, "And you'll be in Durham, so you can take your lunch breaks and hang out with me!"

Tim smiles at her, and then glances over at me. "What about you? Taking that job in Durham?" An ID firm has offered me a job, but I'm not sure if it's what I want right now. I have to think about it still.

"I don't know, I have until Friday to figure it out, though. We'll see."

"Do you have any idea if you will?" Brooke asks, raising her eyebrows at me.

I shake my head. "Nope, no clue. I don't know, I think it's too easy to procrastinate since I can always work at Karen's for some cash."

"Plus we get to live with Brooke for free," Tim points out, "Of course, we pay in other ways, and the price is very high."

"No teasing," Brooke commands, and then turns back to me, "So, really? You don't know? Tutor Girl, you better find something in this world to make your mind up about and go after. You know that, right?"

I nod. "I do, it's just that I'm not sure this is something to go after. When I went for my second interview and was talking to the guy who would be my boss, I got a weird vibe. It's hard to want to work with people who give you weird feelings. God, don't tell me I'm the only one who thinks that way!"

Brooke smiles softly. "You aren't. I'm just saying I think you should go after something."

"Subtle, Davis," Tim says, rolling his eyes at her, "I think she wants to know when you're going to fly up to Connecticut and jump all over Nathan."

"Thanks for the clarification, Tim," I say sarcastically, "And I think the answer to that would be 'when hell freezes over'."

"Liar," Brooke says softly, "Seriously, get over yourself. He's going to be here next week, you might as well do it. Go for it."

I can tell by the way Tim is nodding along that Brooke filled him in on our earlier conversation. When she found the time, I'll never know. Probably text messaged him or something.

"Look, now isn't the time for this conversation, okay? And besides, can we not talk about my pathetic excuse for a love life for a change? I know I'm typically the biggest idiot out of the three of us in those situations, but at least Brooke has a boyfriend. And Tim, you're well, you're…." I trail off.

"Sleeping around," Brooke contributes, smirking helpfully.

Tim pinches her arm. "Don't be jealous that you aren't one of the people getting Tim loving," he tells her, winking.

"Gross." He makes a face. "Sweetie, just because it's like incest," she clarifies, and he starts grinning.

"You two are such freaks," I comment idly, lying back again on the soft grass. The warm sun feels good on my face.

"James?" Tim asks, "Will you go get me a soda?"

I look over at him. "Only because it's your party!" I shake my head, and hop up, heading inside. I'm barely thinking of the people I can run into, and I make it to the bar and grab the soda before I even notice that Gina is standing there. I about jump out of my skin when I do.

"Hello, Haley," she says, calm, quiet. "How are you?"

I open and close my mouth a couple of times before I can find any words. "I'm fine, thank you. How are you?"

"Wonderful. Have you been avoiding me today?"

I'm not sure how to approach this question. "Not unless you want to yell. I promised Tim I'd do whatever it took to avoid confrontations today."

"Well, I don't want to fight with you or yell at you, so perhaps we could talk for a few minutes."

Truth be told, I'd rather not, but I can't say no. "Sure," I reply, hesitantly sitting down on one of the barstools.

"I know the girls are harsh towards you still, and from what Jason has told me, he's gone out of his way to make you feel awful. I'm not apologizing for them, because as a mother, in some ways, it doesn't feel wrong. Seeing Jason after you left him at the altar – God, the altar, it's like a soap opera – it broke my heart. Because you had broken his. So I have a hard time condemning them for being angry with you still."

I look down at my hands, gathering my thoughts before I look back up at her. "I'm not asking that they stop, but I have stopped caring as much. And Jason and I talked earlier, and I'm hopeful that if nothing else, we've made a sort of peace. Having that, well, nothing else seems quite as important."

She nods, rubbing a hand wearily across her forehead. "I hope you find the peace you need to make you happy. And this probably doesn't matter much to you anymore, but if I were you, I'd need to hear it: I don't hate you. I think what you did was rotten, but people make mistakes."

"Thank you," I say quietly, tears filling my eyes, "I never expected you would be able to, you know. Figured you'd hate me the longest."

"I wanted to," she says, brutally honest, "But how could I? When Jason started getting over it, there was no point in holding onto my anger. Besides, in the end, I think you lost a whole lot more than he did."

She could be referring to anything, but I'm guessing that specifically she means her family. I had close bonds with all of them, and I don't have anything now except hatred from them. That is a hard thing to lose.

"Maybe," I sigh, "But I know I deserve it. I wish I could go back, you know? Do things differently, realize what I had to do sooner. But I didn't, and I have to live with it forever."

She nods. "Well, I think you should get back out to your friends."

I nod back at her, standing up. "Yeah, I guess so. Oh, Gina, thank you for cashing that last check I sent you. I know you said you didn't want it back, but I couldn't not repay you."

She nods, and I wander out into the backyard, surprised to see Jason with Tim and Brooke. It doesn't look like Brooke is going to hit anyone anytime soon, so I just stand and watch, wondering if things are finally moving forward.

One can only hope.

Karen and Keith have just moved into a new house, and are throwing this huge combination party that will be part housewarming and part graduation for me and Luke and part draft party for Nathan and Luke. I guess that's why she's having the party on a Tuesday. I tried to talk Karen out of including me, but she insisted, so here I am, helping to set up like I insisted when I finally agreed.

She's bought some of those silly streamers to hang, so I'm carrying around little Eric who isn't so little anymore and trying to put them up. He's 'helping' me out.

"Hawes, let me down!" he cries, bouncing around.

I set him down, ruffling his hair. He looks like a cross between Luke and Nathan, which is kind of uncanny. "There ya go, baby, all down."

I kneel down beside him, giving him a high five. Luke taught him that last time he was here. "Play with me!" he orders, grabbing my hand and tugging. Unable to refuse this child anything, I collapse to the ground beside him, reaching out to tickle him. "Airplane!"

I groan, wishing he'd want to play something that didn't give me a full body workout, but I don't hesitate in rolling over on my back so that he can jump on my shins. I grab his hands, and start 'flying' him.

"Yay!" he cheers, laughing as I start to make airplane noses for him. "Yay, Hawes!" I laugh at his use of Luke's nickname for me. I laugh, too, always loving the time I spend with him. "Higher, higher!" he yells, and so I lift my legs as high as I can without him falling off.

"Are you ready to land yet?" I ask, hopefully. This is a draining game to play with a three year old.

"No way, Jose!" he screams. I sigh, and keep moving my legs around with him attached.

"Hey!" comes a voice from the doorway. In relief, I lower Eric to the ground so he can go greet his big brother.

"Thank God, Luke," I sigh, letting my arms drop over my head, "He was trying to wear me out."

"Looks like he did a good job of it," he says, tossing Eric into the air. Eric squeals, begging for more the whole time.

"Tell me about it," I laugh. I roll over onto my stomach, and prop myself up on my elbows. "So, how excited are you for tonight?"

He shrugs, looking more overwhelmed than excited. "I don't know, I might not get picked, so it might be a moot point."

"Do you not want to get picked or something?" I ask, genuinely wanting to know the answer to that question. The way he's acting lately, I'm thinking he doesn't.

"I don't know, I guess there is a part of me that wants to play in the NBA just to say I could, or did, but another part of me wants to move home. Eric's here, you're here, and Brooke, she's here."

I smile at him. "Yeah, but you know what? That's the great thing about loved ones, no matter where you go, and even no matter where we go, we're still always there in the ways that count."

He looks at me through cynical eyes. "When did you get all mushy gushy, Hales?"

I laugh. "That's not mushy gushy, that's just stating the facts. Got a problem with that, Scott?"

"Nah, just surprised you'd pull that line out after everything. Anyways, where's my girlfriend?"

I frown at him, admittedly hurt that he hasn't even given me a hug and all he wants is to see Brooke. "She'll be here later," I inform him, standing up and brushing my jeans off. "I'm going to go see if Karen needs anymore help."

"What's wrong?" he asks.

I just shake my head. "No, it's nothing, I'm being a brat. If you want to help, you could hang those streamers," I say hopefully, pointing to where they still sit from when Eric wanted his airplane ride.

"Hales," he begins, "Did I piss you off? And don't lie, please, because we both know I know better than that."

"Look, Luke, it just sucks that you come in here, toss Eric in the air a couple of times, have half a conversation with me, and then want to leave to find Brooke. You didn't even give me a hug, and I haven't seen you since February. I don't expect to be number one in your life, but a hug would be nice."

He looks suitably chagrined as he sets Eric down and moves closer to me. "I'm sorry, Hales, I don't know what I was thinking," he says as he pulls me into his arms, "I've missed you a lot."

"I've missed you, too. Now, you hang those streamers, and I'll go help your mom. And if I see Brooke, I'll tell her where you are," I wink.

"Thanks buddy," he grins. He moves to pick Eric up, but he shakes his head and runs over to me. "Hey, thanks Er, I'm only your brother."

"Hawes is my sister," he explains to Luke, who looks at me in surprise. I'm sure his expression is mirrored on my face. "Mommy says so."

Tears form in my eyes, and I reach down to scoop him up. "Well, I love you, baby brother," I tell him, hugging him tight.

He crinkles his nose at me, and Luke and I both laugh. Luke steps over and hugs the both of us. "This is good," Luke smiles, "This is why I want to come home. To help Eric tease and pick on our 'sister'."

"Stop," I tell him, pleading for mercy, "You're going to make me cry."

"No cry, Hawes," Eric says, putting his sticky hands on my face in a concerned gesture. Well, a three year olds version of concerned, I guess.

I give him my brightest smile to show I won't cry. "I'll try not to, okay, sweetie?" He smiles, showing off his tiny teeth. I turn to Luke, saying, "He makes me want one of my own."

Luke shudders. "That must be a woman thing, because all he makes me want is my old Tonka trucks and GI Joes."

"Boys," I say in exasperation. "Okay, I'm going to find Karen. You coming with me or staying with Luke?" I ask Eric, grinning triumphantly at Luke when he wraps his arms tight around me. "At least someone loves me best," I tease, laughing at the look on his face.

He grumbles something under his breath, but I ignore him and walk out of the room with Eric to find Karen.

"Shoulders!" Eric demands, and I groan, knowing I can't say no to this kid. I also know my neck will probably hurt for a week after carting him around up there.

"Eric, you're too big!" He shakes his head at me, and I cave, lifting him above my head and placing him on my shoulders. "Oof, you're heavy," I groan.

I carry him around for a few minutes, jumping around to entertain him. "You know, you're going to hurt yourself."

My entire being tenses at the sound of his voice, and my body becomes hypersensitive to his presence. But I manage to turn around calmly.

"Nathan. I didn't know you'd be here."

"Yeah," he drawls out slowly, "its funny how that works. Oh, except the part where it isn't, considering you haven't returned any of my attempts at correspondence the last three months."

He says it without heat, but even in the mildness the rebuke is obvious. I shrug as best I can with Eric on my shoulders. "Well, we've all been busy, right?"

He snorts, not buying that particular line of bullshit. "Right, busy. You've been too busy to take five minutes to respond to an email? Or pick up your phone once in awhile."

"Yeah, final projects and all that," I tell him, which isn't a lie, exactly. Of course, five minutes is obviously not too much to ask.

"Uh huh," he nods, reaching over my head to take Eric from me. My entire body reacts to his nearness, tingling and becoming flushed. "Want to try something that actually works?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie, stepping away from him. It's too hard to be so near him right now, with my body reacting like this and all.

"You were never a great liar, Haley J, and you are fooling yourself if you think you've blossomed into one overnight."

I look away, warming under the intensity of his stare. "Why would I lie?" He raises his eyebrows at me as he tucks Eric under his arms. Eric is barely aware that neither Nathan nor I are focused on him as he waves his arms around and kicks his legs. "I have nothing to gain by lying about this, right?"

"Fine," he concedes, "Maybe not lying, but you're being all evasive and stuff. What's up? Since when were we back to ignoring each other? I could've used you a few times in the last few months, things have been intense between school, and Dad and Lucas, and trying to keep in shape for the draft."

"Well, I'm sorry I wasn't more available," I mumble, feeling terrible now. He might not love me, but he does think of me as a friend, and it was shitty to treat him like he was nothing to me.

"How come everyone's always saying that to me? I don't even know what that goddamn word means any more," he says acerbically. "What about you, big guy, don't you hate that word?"

Eric looks at him and giggles, unconcerned by the fact that Nathan is a virtual stranger to him. "Airplane!"

"Yeah, airplane," Nathan smiles at him, chuckling softly. He sets him down, and turns back to me. "How come things with us can't be that simple?"

"Because we aren't three?" I suggest, "Or maybe because I'm not your older brother's youngest brother?"

He laughs, I think genuinely. I hope it's genuine, at least. "Yeah, who would imagine that it'd be more complicated than that even?"

He grabs my arm and drags me over to the sofa. "Sit," he orders, and for some reason, I do. "Can you tell me the truth now?"

I look at him for a second before looking away. He grasps my chin between his fingers and tilts it back towards him. "Nathan, I don't know what to say."

"The truth is always a great place to start," he grins, leaning back against the cushions, looking so good I could eat him up with a spoon.

This insane need to protect myself from him falls over me, so I do the only thing I can, the only thing I know that will without a doubt get him to drop this – I pick a fight.

"Look, Nathan, you have your dramas, and as much as I'd love to be your situation sorter outer, I can't do that all the time." My voice comes out even more harshly than I intended, and we both wince at the sound of it.

He draws back, almost as if I slugged him. "What the hell?" he bites out, "I never asked you to be my personal counselor, I never asked you to take on my burdens. Hell, I know better than that, I know that you don't want that from me."

"Look, every time you called, it was 'Dan this, Lucas that, poor me', and I couldn't take it. You – you were just putting me in the middle, and that isn't where I want to be."

He looks at me in disgust. "You said you understood, you said you cared. So that was all a lie, huh? Nice, Haley, the one time you manage to pull out a good lie, and it's when I needed the truth the most. Thanks, you make me feel really good."

I can't stand this anymore; so I do what I do best – run. I run out of the room, ignoring Nathan and even Eric as they call out my name. I run to Eric's room, because I know no one will be in there, and slam the door shut behind me. If I could get out of tonight, I'd leave right now. There is no way I want to go through the agony of sitting there with Nathan hating me all night.

But I brought it on myself, like I always do. Always. When will I learn? It would've been just as easy to give him some half-baked cop out answer, but instead I pull out the big lies and do it well for once.

I sit down against the wall facing the door so I can see if anyone comes in. If they're going to find me in here sobbing like a wreck, they may as well see it head on. I feel like a fraud, and even though it would be the easiest thing in the world to walk down there and tell him the truth, I sit here and let myself be a liar. A liar, one of the things I despise most in this world.

I am what I despise. It would almost be funny if it weren't so blatantly pathetic. I've become what I despise, and I've been fully cognizant throughout this whole downward spiral to this point.

I wipe my eyes, though – I have to put on a good face. I'm sick of being the depressed, mopey one that everyone is worried about. Tonight is not a night to put my loved ones through that, so I put fresh makeup on after I dry the tears. I stay up here for awhile, until I realize that everyone is probably here.

I head back downstairs, and find everyone gathered around the television. Tim grins at me gratefully when I walk in, looking like he feels slightly awkward, so I move over to sit by him. I have to brush past Nathan to do so, and he doesn't move out of my way, so my chest ends up brushing against his, and it is all I can do not to throw my arms around his neck and beg him to take me.

"Hey, where you been?" Tim asks. "Brooke and I were looking for you a bit ago."

"Oh, I've been around," I smile, hoping it looks real. He looks at me oddly for a second, but then smiles as I sit down.

"Yeah, well, glad you're here. How's the job hunting going?"

Earlier today I had a couple of interviews in Durham, but none of them struck my fancy. I'm beginning to think that interior design was the wrong major for someone living around here, but we'll see.

I shrug. "The interviews were fine, I guess, but I don't know if they're what I'm looking for. Of course, if opportunity knocks and one of them offer me a job, I might have to take it."

"Do what you gotta do," he advises.

"Yeah, I'll try," I sigh, thinking about Nathan.

Nathan, of course, is watching me like a hawk. I feel worse than he could ever know, because the last thing in the world that I want is for him to think I don't care, but unfortunately, that was the best way I could come up with to get him to drop why I can't talk to him. If I told him the truth, it would probably forever ruin whatever tenuous bond we still have. Of course, I'm doing a good enough job anyways.

"Hawes cried," Eric says sadly as Keith carries him in. All eyes shift to me in surprise. "She sad," he tells his dad.

"What – are you okay?" Karen asks, concerned. Tim lays a hand on my shoulder.

"You guys," I say, going for cheerful, "Of course, I'm fine!"

"They were yelling," Eric continues, and I curse myself for reading all those books to him. "Hawes and him," he says, pointing at Nathan. At this point I want to bury my head in my hands. Or better yet, the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

Instead, I jump up and take Eric from Keith. "Hey, its okay, kiddo, we're both fine. No one is sad."

"Except me," Nathan mumbles, under his breath. There is a good chance that Keith, Eric, and I were the only ones who heard.

I keep my gaze averted from him. "Really, everything's fine." Keith looks at me for a second, but realizes this is all I have to say, and moves away.

"Well," Dan says, clearing his throat, "The draft is about to start. Should we turn the TV on?"

"Yeah, Dad," Nathan says sarcastically, rolling his eyes, "The draft is the most important thing in the world right now."

"I wasn't insinuating that it was," Dan says, defending himself. Things are disintegrating rapidly. I sit back down by Tim, who looks utterly enraptured by the dynamics going on in this room. I forgot it is his first introduction to the blended Scott family.

"Well, we are here to watch the draft," Keith jumps in, looking confused by everything. "So, let's get to it."

"Great," Nathan mutters, folding his arms across his chest, "Just another chance to showcase the rivalry between me and Luke. Fanfuckingtastic."

"Nathan!" Deb exclaims, "Watch yourself."

"What's your problem?" Brooke exclaims, and Luke grabs her arm, "Why do you always have to reduce your bullshit attitude problems into something that has to do with Luke, Nathan? God, you're an ass."

"Shut up, Brooke," Nathan sighs, "This has nothing to do with you."

"Yes, it does, because your problems always have to do with two of the people I care about most in this world, Luke or Haley! And I'm sick of you taking your shit out on them!"

"Knock it off!" I yell, causing everyone to jump and look at me. "Knock it off, this fighting isn't solving anything, and it isn't even worth it."

"Yeah, you would think so," Nathan spits out bitterly, "Nothing is ever worth fighting for in your world."

Luke jumps in. "Stop! Okay, this is supposed to be a great day, so why are you two working on wreaking it? Now, sit down, and shut up. We're all going to watch the draft together, and then afterwards, I'm going to proceed with my surprise." He looks around at all of us. "Got it?"

Nathan and I nod. "Got it," we mumble in unison. Tim looks like he wants to get popcorn so he can truly enjoy this show.

The first few rounds of the draft proceed, and unsurprisingly, neither Nathan nor Luke's names are called. Things remain tense in the room, and I feel awful for causing it. What a night for me to ruin, huh?

When Nathan's name is finally called announcing that he's been drafted by Seattle, it is almost anti-climactic. He's in such a foul mood, that no one is really sure how to react.

Deb finally breaks the silence. "So, Seattle. That's far away." Nathan nods, looking dazed. I wonder if the reality of this is even close to hitting him yet – he's made his dream come true. "Congratulations, honey."

"Yeah, congratulations," everyone else begins chiming in. Luke gives him an awkward high-five/handshake/hug thing, and Dan gives him an even more awkward looking hug.

Everyone settles back down, and Nathan leaves the room to talk to his agent. He comes back in just in time to see Lucas's name called, announcing that he's been taken by Houston. Lucas grins widely, and pulls Brooke into a huge hug, kissing her neck. They're so happy with each other that it is painful for me to watch, and I look away. Tim notices, and puts a hand on my shoulder.

More congratulations are offered up, and the tensions drain out of the room some. Luke jumps up on the couch, and Karen scolds him to get off the furniture, but he waves her off.

"Okay, you all are the people who I'm closest to in this world, and you mean the most, so it is only fitting that you're here for this." He smiles at all of us as we look up at him wonderingly. "Obviously, I've been lucky in my life, and I've been gifted this great opportunity to play basketball for my profession. But it isn't what I want." Karen and Keith look at each other in surprise, and a smile spreads across Brooke's face. "I want to be here, in Tree Hill, year round. I want to be with Brooke, and I want to get to know Dan better. I want Eric to always know who his brother is. I want Hales to have her best friend around full time. I want Mom and Keith to be able to watch my children grow up. So I won't be taking what I've been offered."

No one says anything, but Brooke springs forward to hug and kiss him. When she pulls back, Dan moves forward. "I'm proud of you, Son." He whispers something else, and they're both visibly choked up when they pull apart.

"Thanks, Dad." I wipe a tear away, proud that Luke was finally able to say that to him. I notice that Nathan looks uncomfortable, and it hurts to know that he's going to be alone tonight. I know how it hurt him last time Dan and Luke had a similar conversation, and I doubt this time will be any better.

Pushing that thought out of my head for the minute, I go to give Luke my hug, too. "I'm glad you'll be around, and anything that makes you happy makes me happy."

"Thanks, Hales. Sorry I yelled earlier."

"I deserved it," I sigh, "But let's not worry about that now. Congratulations."

Karen and Keith engulf him in hugs next, and things kind of calm down. Nathan is the only one who doesn't move to congratulate him. I try and fade into the background, but Tim comes back over to sit by me after he congratulates Luke and Brooke.

"What's going on?" he asks quietly.

I shake my head. "Not now. I can't do this now."

He nods his understanding, and he doesn't say anything when I get up to follow Nathan after he takes off. I catch up with him about a block down the street – him on foot, me in my car.

"Get in," I order, my tone of voice leaving no room for argument. Of course, he does anyways.

"Why the hell would I?" he asks, sounding derisive and angry. Most of that anger is probably directed at me.

"Because I'm the only person who knows what's going on with you, and you're going to need someone there."

"That someone isn't really you, though, is it?" he asks, smirking at me.

"Yeah, Nathan, you know what? I got it, loud and clear in March, that you don't need me at all. But right now, I'm all you've got, so you're stuck with me."

"What are you talking about? Made it clear in March?"

I roll my eyes at his puzzled act. It pisses me off that he can pretend not to know what I mean. "Damn it, don't do this. We both know that you made it beyond clear that you don't need me for anything, so there's no point playing any games now."

He gets in the car. "Haley, I never said that, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Nathan, let's not do that right now. I don't want to talk about it." He looks at me like I'm insane. "Look, let's talk about what happened with Luke. Are you mad at him? Because he's doing what's best for him, and it has nothing to do with you, okay?"

He shakes his head. "You know why it's hard – Dan is so proud of Luke, no matter what. But here I am, doing what he has always wanted for me, and he doesn't care. Doesn't care! There was no emotion, no choked up hug, no pride, nothing."

"That's not true, Nate," I argue, "But you were in such a mood – which is probably my fault – that it was hard for anyone to say anything. No one knew how to approach you about it, I could see it on their faces."

He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. What's done is done, and things can't go back. Hell, I wouldn't want them to; they've always been messed up." I hang my head a little at his words; they're just another painful reminder of him not wanting me anymore. "I just can't make this shit go away."

"Then deal with it," I tell him, turning advice given to me by others back on him. "Just go talk to Dan and go talk to Luke, and get this stuff on the table. You'll never be happy until you do."

I pull into the Rivercourt parking lot, and turn off the car. He looks over at me. "When are you going to take your own advice?"

"Nathan," I begin, but he interrupts me.

"No, let me finish. I don't know what happened to you, and I don't know what I did to upset you so much, but this sucks. I deserve to know what I did to piss you off to the point where you would act like you did earlier today."

I nod, knowing he's right. "I'm sorry, by the way." He nods. "I wasn't trying to hurt you, and I didn't mean it." I don't want to tell him everything about how I feel, but I know now that I can't let him think he doesn't matter to me. "It's just hard, and I'm not dealing with it well."

"Dealing with what?" he asks quietly.

"Everything, I guess."

"What'd I do in March?" he asks, "Obviously, that's when you stopped talking to me, and then today you said March yourself. What'd I do?"

I shake my head. "It wasn't anything, really. I guess I don't always know how to be 'just friends' with you."

I surprise both of us with my honesty. He looks over at me and manages a wry smile. "How do you think I've felt all these years now?"

"You dealt with it better than I did," I tell him, matter of factly.

He shakes his head. "Not really. You must have selective memory or something. Look, Haley, I don't know what you want from me."

I shrug, knowing that I have no right to want anything from him. "I want you to be happy. That's really all I want for you."

"I wasn't asking what you want for me, I was asking what you want from me in terms of us. I need you to tell me since I'm too dense to get it without help."

I lean forward, resting my arms on the steering wheel. "There's nothing I can ask you for now, Nathan," I say as resolutely as I can muster.

"Can't or won't?" he asks point blank.

"Fine, won't," I admit, caving. I know he'll push now, but I won't give in all the way. I won't tell him what I really want; that he's all I want or need.

"Haley, I wish you'd tell me." I nod, knowing this. "You're not going to tell me, though, are you?" The question is rhetorical, so I don't answer it. "Fine, okay. I won't push you, to, not now."

"But sometime you will?"

"Maybe," he laughs, "I'm curious now." He looks at the empty court. "I'm going to let you get back to the party. I know you'll want to join in the 'Lucas Scott the hero is moving back to Tree Hill' celebration."

"I don't want to leave you if you're upset. Especially if you're still upset with me."

"I'm fine, Haley, you should go. I'll be fine here by myself."

"Are you still pissed at me?" I press, concerned. "And even if you're not, I can stay. They don't need me there, especially after what I started earlier," I sigh.

"It's not your fault I blew up," he sighs, "And I'm not mad at you, I guess. I just wish you'd tell me everything because I know we haven't scratched the surface."

"Maybe we can't talk about everything anymore," I suggest, cringing at the possibility.

He looks sideways at me. "We could a few months ago, so unless you're ready to tell me what has changed, then I don't believe that."

I shrug. "Maybe I don't have the words to say it all."

"Maybe you just don't want to," he guesses, not incorrectly. He sighs again, looking at me with something akin to regret in his eyes. "Thanks for trying. I think you're the only one who notices."

I lay my hand on his arm, trying my best not to squeeze his bicep. "They notice, they all do. They just don't know what's wrong, and they therefore don't know how to deal with it."

He nods. "Yeah, well, it'd be nice to know one of them cared and at least wanted to find out what was wrong. They don't even ask, Haley."

I let my hand trace soothing circles on his arm, and he leans closer to me. "They don't know how, Nathan. It doesn't mean they love you any less."

We're leaning so close together now that I can feel his breath on my cheek. "How come you always know?" he asks, his fingers caressing my cheek, "Does that mean you love me most of all?"

"Nathan," I sigh, letting my eyes drift shut, leaning towards him, my fingers tightening on his arm. He pulls me to him, and our mouths meet, tentative at first, but quickly turning aggressive. We kiss hotly, wetly, for a minute until he pulls away from me, his face contorting into a weird mix of horror and that shock you get when you did something but quickly realize you shouldn't have.

"God, I'm sorry," he whispers in a shocked voice, opening the door and getting out of the car. It hurts to see that he can't get away from me fast enough. He jogs across the basketball court, and then, to my surprise, keeps going. He really doesn't want to be anywhere near me.

Great. He doesn't look back once, but I'm not sure if it would've meant something if he had. I get out of the car, and walk to the center of the court and sit down. It seems like a lifetime ago that Nathan and I sat here after the first time he saw the bond between Luke and Dan. It wasn't though, not even a year.

But so much has changed, and as usual, I hate change. The only kind of change I can imagine liking now is the kind that fixes everything back to how they used to be. How they were when I had Nathan.

But that won't happen. It can't happen. He doesn't want it to happen, and I can't make it so it does. And that leaves me here, sitting in the light rain at a basketball court filled with history, all by myself. I sit down with tears streaming down my cheeks, and hug my knees to my chest, my thoughts still focused on him.

I'm so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I don't even know he's back until I see his shoes out of the corner of my eye. "You're lucky I know you always wear your Jordan's," I tell him, "You startled me."

"Sorry," he mumbles, not looking at me.

"Look, Nathan, I know you didn't mean it," I sigh, giving him the out as I hastily brush the tears away. I hate seeing him this uncomfortable.

"That's the thing, Haley J, I did mean it." Aside from a sharp intake of breath, I don't react outwardly. "I know I'm not supposed to, but I can't help it – I meant it. I wanted that kiss, I want you, and I don't think I ever stopped."

I stare at him blankly for a minute until I can finish processing his words, and then I launch myself at him. I throw my arms around him and hold him tight, and for a minute, that's how we sit – my arms wrapped around him with me half in his lap, but finally he snaps out of wherever he was, and wraps his arms around my waist.

He leans back slowly until he's flat on his back, and I'm lying on top of him fully, kissing along his jaw. The rain is starting to fall harder on us, but we are mostly oblivious. His hands are running up my back and under my shirt before sliding down over my butt. It is incredible and surreal to have his hands on me again, and it takes my breath away.

"It's always the rain, isn't it?" he mumbles when he briefly tears his lips away from mine.

I missed this. I missed him. And now, here we are again.

Wordlessly, we make our way back to my car, and he drives us out to his parent's beach house. We spend the night in each other's arms, and the conversation is minimal. There are other ways of communicating, and we take advantage of those options tonight. In some ways, it feels like the first time, but so much better, so much more magical.

In the morning, we are still fairly silent. We exchange a few smiles, though, and that lends me a slight sense of encouragement. I'm not sure what any of this means, or even if this was anything more than physical for him, but I'm trying not to worry about it yet.

"Haley J?" he asks softly, snapping me out of my reverie. I look up at him with a smile. "We – I – um, I hope you don't hate me for pressuring you into that."

I'm surprised, and I hope it shows on my face. "What are you talking about? If I'd felt pressured, I probably wouldn't have stuck around for a third, fourth, fifth go-round, right?"

He shrugs. "Guess not. Still, I just wanted you to know that it doesn't have to be anything, okay? I mean, I'm not trying to push you into a relationship."

I nod, understanding what he's saying. "Yeah, I get it, no relationship."

"Haley, I – " he begins.

"No, it's fine. Look, I'd better go, Brooke and Tim are probably worried about me. Well, at least Tim probably is, Brooke might not be home yet." He nods. "Need a lift?"

"No, thank you," he sighs, looking away. "I might invite my dad and Luke out here for lunch." I walk over and squeeze his hand.

"You should do that. It'll be good, I'm sure of it."

He smiles. "Yeah, sure."

"Um, thanks, for you know." He smiles again, a little brighter, a little more genuinely. Or perhaps I'm wishing that hard enough that I'm seeing it now. "I mean," I blush, "It was, well, good."

He laughs. "Yeah, it was good." He leans down and kisses me on the cheek, which feels so small compared to everything that happened last night.

"I'll, um, see you later."

He nods, and I lean up to hug him. "I'll be in Seattle at the end of the week for the introductory press conference stuff." I nod. "I don't know how long I'll be there. They'll probably have some rookie camps this summer."

"Oh. Sounds like you'll be really busy then." I internally shudder at the thought of him finding some Seattle hoochie to hook up with.

"Yeah, I guess so," he smiles, and I think it's settling in that he's been drafted to play in the NBA.

"I'm proud of you," I tell him, "And I'm really happy for you. I know a lot of this was Dan's dream, but it was yours, too, and it was all your hard work that's paid off. Congratulations."

"Thanks, Haley J, that means more than I can tell you, coming from you."

He walks me out to my car, and we don't say goodbye. Instead, we kiss one more time, a long, lingering kiss that steals my breath and makes my pulse race. He looks pleased with himself when he pulls away, and I can tell he recognizes the affect he has on me, and he likes it.

The only thing about this that frustrates me is that I don't know where we stand, and I don't know if I'm brave enough to ask him. I want to know, more than anything, but I'm still so damn afraid of his answer that I can't ask. And so I'm stuck in the dark, flailing around.