A/N: It's a miracle! Lol I have to thank Ghostwriter for giving me an ultimadum. I know, I'm horrible with updates. Bad keke. There is one thing I've forgotten to mention (besides the disclaimer: I'm holding Hayden hostage, but I don't own any of the Higher Ground characters), the thing is that this story starts a year before Horizon. I calculated everything, Scott goes to Horizon around October, his drug use was noticeable about 6 to 8 months before, which means about December or January of that year, which is about a month after football season normally ends (November is the end of the season for New England schools at least). So he's not going to get to Horizon for one looong-ass time! So he's a sophomore. Mad young! Lol okay, enjoy the chap.

The lanky blonde lay curled up on the bed, shivering. Elaine had wiped off the excess blood, but she had not removed the handcuffs. It was now 9 o'clock, and there was no hope that his wicked stepmother would let him go to school, which meant there was no hope of going to the game.

He was so helpless. Every attempt to wrench himself free of the bed only bruised his wrists further. A wave of nausea washed over him as he thought back to the events that had taken place in his bedroom a mere hour before.

You belong to me.

She had branded him like cattle. The E in his thigh gleamed crimson in the sunlight, the mark of his mistress.

Elaine sauntered into the room and examined her handiwork. Scott remember the fourth rule she had told him so many months ago, and saw the only opportunity to free himself of his chains.

"Elaine?"

She touched the wound and smiled when he flinched. "Yes?"

"You know how you said that... um... that if I wanted something, you would give it to me in exchange for a favor?"

Her eyes raked over his body. "Mhmm?"

"Well, I-I want something." Why was he stuttering? God, he was such a wimp.

Her finger slid up his thigh. "What?"

"I want to play in my game. I have to go to school in order to play."

"Oh really?"

"Please - I'll do anything."

She leaned over him and whispered in his ear. "Anything?"

He gulped and nodded.

She slowly unlocked the handcuffs and took them off his wrists. She pulled on his hands until he was standing on his knees over his bed sheets as she was doing, and touched his chest.

He fought the urge to shrink away as her hands made their presence known on his body. She thoroughly felt every part of him, watching his face for a reaction. When he didn't object, she leaned forward and kissed him. Elaine pressed her body against his and deepened the kiss, massaging his mouth with her tongue and running her fingers through his hair.

Finally, she broke away and whispered, "So you're going to do me a favor if I let you go to this game?"

He nodded silently, afraid of what she would ask him to do. She leaned back until her body hit the bed, pulling him down with her. He supported himself on his forearms, suddenly having second thoughts about what he had just agreed to. Elaine's arms slinked around his body, enveloping him in a tight hug. She smiled at the confusion on his face.

"Kiss me."

So he did. His mouth gently closed around her bottom lip before he lifted his head back up, cautiously awaiting her next command.

"Aw that was sweet," her finger ran over his full lips, "but that's not where I wanted you to kiss me."

He watched in terror as her finger slid down her torso to the most sensitive part of her body.

Scott hid out in the locker room at lunch. He clutched the bottle of pills tightly in his hand as his mind replayed the events of that morning, and a wave of shame washed over his body. He had willingly given himself to the source of his nightmares, pretended to want the body that pulled him into sin.

He had barely made it in time for the late attendance cutoff, and Mr. Stevenson had cracked yet another joke at his expense. But his mind was far away from his classes.

Scott was at a loss; he had no defense against Elaine, no shield for protection. Safety had indeed been nothing but an illusion.

He headed off to his literature class in low spirits, the pills lying in a sewage pipe deep underground.

Ms. Hunter was a middle-aged woman with a soft spot for tortured souls. Her lessons thoroughly investigated the conflict between mind and heart, but her wisdom was often lost on the restless teenagers that occupied the seats in her classroom. Still, she never stopped trying to reach them in her various ways.

"Alright ladies and gentleman," her smile was enough to get the attention of every student, "today we will all be writing a letter to someone we love."

The class groaned.

"Now, now, it's not what you think. This letter is an apology to someone you have hurt in the past. I know what is going on in your minds: why would I make you do this?" She paused to glance around the room. "Pain hurts obviously, but it can make you stronger. It can empower you to overcome whatever obstacle is standing in your way, or it can leave a nasty scar that never quite heals."

"Now guilt-guilt can be worse. Guilt can help someone see the error of his or her ways, but it can also drag your soul underwater if you let it dwell inside you. Both pain and guilt are powerful feelings. Take the Scarlet Letter, for example. I take it you all did finish the book as requested?"

Most of the class nodded.

"Hester is scorned and branded with the A for adultery, but she can maintain her dignity because her crime is known and punished. Arthur, her lover, is not discovered and free to live his life without public repentance, but the silent guilt of his crime consumes him and destroys him in the end. He too brands a mark on himself, but the pain there is metaphorical. Every time his scar seems to burn, it is his conscience reminding him of what he has done.

"You all may not completely understand the burden of that guilt right now, but you will at one time or another. This assignment is to lift some of that burden off the chests of you young people, to let someone know that you have not forgotten the way you and that you are sorry for the pain they felt and are sorry for causing that pain. These letters will be sealed in an envelope; I will save you the embarrassment of reading them. It will be your choice to give the letter to your subject."

Maybe she had gotten through to them. She noticed that both Scott and Randy had contemplative looks on their faces. At least two students would take her assignment seriously, and gave the class the rest of the period to start thinking about their letter.

Scott didn't need to think to know whom he would write to. While other students tapped their pencils or stared at various spots on the classroom walls, he took out a piece of paper and began to write.

Dear Dad,

I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't want it to happen. I wanted to tell you, to let you know what's going on with me, but I don't know how.I love you Dad. Please don't forget that. Please don't forget me. I know that you're always busy, and I wish you were here more, I wish you had been here more when Mom was around, but that's not why it happened. I didn't want revenge.

He looked over what he had written and realized that it was crap. The writing was scratched out in places and he hadn't even explained why he was sorry. He put a big X through the paragraph and tried again.

Elaine and I had sex. She came in my room, and it was storming, and she said that she was scared, so I let her stay there. But then she started touching me, and

He scratched that out too, especially the first sentence. This was completely pathetic. He couldn't even stand to see what had happened to him on paper. He wrote all those letters to please Elaine, but he couldn't write one sincerely.

I'm so sorry. I wish I had someone to talk to. I wish someone could tell me that I'm not a freak and that I'll be okay one day. I wish I could stop her, just once, to not be afraid. To be able to spit out every hateful word I've thought about her, to be the one who wins.

He couldn't fit anything together. His thoughts were a jumbled mess. His hand started writing again, almost subconsciously.

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry

I love you. Please don't hate me. I hate myself enough for the both of us. I wish I was dead. I love you. I'm sorry.

-Scott

He folded the paper and put it inside the envelope, realizing as he did it that he would never be able to tell his father the truth.

The football game-the last one of the season-was a tremendous success. Scott had scored two touchdowns, including the one that ensured Raven victory, bringing his total to fifteen for the season. Fifteen was a lot, and everyone knew it.

"Way to go Barringer!"

"Did you see him fly over that Shithead?"

"Flyyy, like an eagle!"

That last comment was from Chad. It felt so good to be surrounded by his new friends and teammates that he completely forgot about his literature homework. That is, until he saw Elaine make her way over to him

"I'm so proud of you, Scotty."

She hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. From an outsider's point of view, she looked like an older sister or friend, but Scott couldn't help feeling dirty. Luckily, Randy saved him.

"Yo SKIZZ!!!"

He was lifted up into the air and then thrown back onto the ground.

"Winning touchdown baby! Oh yeah, it's your birthday, oh yeah, it's your birthday-"

"Dudes!" Chad shimmied his way in between the two uniformed boys. "The fam is going out to celebrate. You two tanks down for some pizza, pasta and a sip of my momma's wine?"

"With those dentures, I dunno man," Scott ducked as Chad swiped at him.

The three friends made plans as they showered and changed into normal clothes, and what started out as a three-family dinner turned into the entire team.

"I'll let you know who next year's captain is at dinner!" Coach called out he left the locker room.

A giant crowd of people waited in the tiny lobby of the Bertucci's restaurant. It was just their luck that the eatery had yet to fill up, and it took a whole team of waiters to push tables together and take the orders of the famished football players. While Scott sat with his teammates, Elaine chatted with the parents, earning many tips and compliments from the other mothers present.

Finally, Coach Riddlin stood up. "May have your attention please," all chatter came to a halt, "the team captain for next year, voted on by the team and approved by me, will be..."

He shot a cheesy Kodak smile to the crowd.

"Hurry up!" Billy threw a French fry at him.

"Hey now," he exclaimed in mock indignation, "keep that up and you'll be running laps while the rest of us eat."

When the football players started protesting the interruptions, Mr. Riddlin decided it was time to announce the winner. "As I was saying, drum roll please... Scott Barringer!"

Scott's mouth fell open as his team started cheering. He had not expected that at all.

"Wait, I'm not finished yet!" It took a minute for the teens to calm down before their coach could continue. "Assistant captain is... Randy Williams!"

The crowd erupted into cheers once again. What had started as a horrible day had suddenly turned into a good one.

Now that you've read the chap, I have a question for all you avid HG watchers: Katherine says he was captain, he also says he scored 17 touchdowns his junior year. He did mean 'junior year' as in that year right? And juniors aren't normally captains; it's usually the seniors... we'll just say his school is weird. Anyone else notice inconsistencies from one episode to another?