I awoke the next morning to the smell of breakfast. Keith was cooking? This couldn't be good. But if Keith was cooking, I would have awaked to the sound of fire trucks. Curiosity was enough to get me out of bed and put a shirt on. Haley would have disapproved of the orange shirt with my red plaid pajama pants, but she wasn't there. I still don't see why red and orange don't match, but the one time I said that to Mom and Haley, they scoffed and muttered "boys" together.

May had cooked breakfast. That would explain the lack of fire trucks.

I was up before Keith.

"Good morning, Luke. Did you know that your spare key is in the most obvious place ever? You really need a new hiding place."

Under the mat is obvious? Who knew?

"I'll put that on my to-do list," I said.

She handed me a plate of scrambled eggs.

"Thanks." I said, sleepily.

"Where's Keith? He's here, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he's still sleeping. He's not much of a morning person."

She smiled, "He never was. It took at least three alarms clocks to get him out of bed in the morning."

"Three alarms clocks? Yeah, that sounds like Keith."

"Either that or Danny would use all the hot water and Keith had to take a cold shower."

I poured myself a mixture of orange, apple and cranberry juice. Everyone seemed to think this was gross. I think they were just too scared to try it. May was staring at me stir my concoction. "What? It's good." She didn't look convinced.

May scooped some eggs in a plate for herself and sat next to me. "Did you sleep well?"

I nodded with my mouth full of eggs. I was planning on going to practice that afternoon and there was no way my shorts were going to stay on me. I had lost quite a bit of weight by not eating in so long, a fact that scared Keith more than he would admit to me.

"How about you? Where did you spend the night?" I asked, wiping away the lesser known juice mustache.

"With Deb and Nathan."

I didn't respond. Anything I said would be negative and Mom's "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all" kept ringing in my ears. That and the fact that I saw her slap Keith's hand yesterday and I didn't want that to be me.

"So..." I said, trying to think of something to change the subject. My brain was thinking too hard about ways to throw Dan and Nathan into a canyon with hot flames at the bottom to think of a new subject. Keith spared me the hassle of thinking of something to say by walking into the room, rubbing his eyes.

"Good morning Keith," May said cheerfully.

He responded with a kiss to her cheek, but no words. Knowing Keith's vocabulary in the morning, it was probably a wise choice for him not to talk.

May scooped some scrambled eggs onto a plate and set it in front of her oldest son.

And so began the day of the dreaded dinner. Keith and May spoke to each other. Normal breakfast conversation. I pretended to listen. They looked at me occasionally and I nodded, hoping that was the correct answer. It seemed to be enough for both of them.

I accompanied Keith to the shop. He wanted to spend the day with his mom, but she made him go to work. She said that she had enough to entertain herself for the day. I suspected that her "entertainment" had something to do with fixing up what had now become our bachelor pad. One glance at Keith told me that he had the same fear, but he didn't voice his fear to May.

"Your school called," Keith said in the car.

I looked up. This was never a good thing. A call from the school always meant a lecture from Mom...or Keith, for that matter. I searched my brain for something I could have done to make the school call and swing the story in my favor. I couldn't think of anything. I resisted the urge to shout, "I didn't do it." It always proved guilt.

"You can exhale, Luke, you're not in trouble. They said you have to go back to school on Monday, but they want you to feel comfortable and you can ease into your classes at your own pace."

On one hand, I was mad at them for making me go back to school, but on the other hand, I didn't want them tiptoeing around me.

"Why do I have to go back already?"

"Something about your absences. It seems that you have 5 unexcused absences. If you miss too much school, you'll have to redo the year."

He looked at me suspiciously. "5 unexcused absences, Luke?"

"I didn't do it."

"Yes you did."

"Okay, I did, but it's done now."

"Could you please not skip anymore class from now on?"

"What incentive do I have to do that?" Not skip class? What was the insanity he was speaking of?

"A diploma? Graduating before you're 21?"

Those would have seemed like good incentives a month ago, but graduating seemed like so far in the future now. I stopped talking. Keith looked disappointed. We just had a conversation that lasted almost a minute and a half. It might have been a new record.

Apparently he wanted to keep the conversation going, "They want you to go see the guidance counselor."

"Mrs. Russell? You know she's like 800 years old."

Keith laughed, "She's still there? She was 800 when I went there."

"Can you talk them out of it?"

"Maybe, but I'm not going to."

"Please?"

"No, I don't think it's a bad idea for you to talk to someone."

"I talk to you."

"No you don't. I can count on one hand the conversations we've had in the last two weeks."

In the last two weeks. We both did everything to avoid saying "since your mom died." The words "died" and "passed away" were avoid at all costs.

"Well it's not like you've really wanted to talk anyway," I said rudely.

"Don't get defensive on me, Luke. I just think having someone on your side at school would be a good thing..." he looked at me, "besides Haley."

I looked out the window, suddenly very irritated. Keith took the hint and changed the subject.

"How are things with your women?"

"Fine." I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a complete answer.

"See? When I try to talk to engage in conversation, you won't talk."

"Fine. You want to know how things are with my women? Let's see, Brooke is pissed at me, but she doesn't know that I cheated on her. And Peyton. Well, Peyton thinks I raped her." I said in one breath.

"What?!" Keith yelled as he slammed on the brake, screeching the truck to an immediate stop.

"What are you doing?! We're in the middle of the street."

"No one is coming," he put the car in park. "You raped Peyton?!"

"No! We were drunk and now she-"

"Jesus, Lucas!" He interrupted me, yelling still. "You can't sleep with drunk girls, they can call it rape. Don't they teach you anything in sex ed?!"

"Would you chill out? You wanted to know. Don't go all ape shit on my ass."

"I don't even know what that means. You want me to chill? You could go to jail for that?!"

"I didn't hurt her!"

"It doesn't matter! Drunk girls cannot consent to sex. If she wants to report it, your ass is dead."

"How do you know that?" Now this was making me nervous. Not only because Keith's intentionally loud voice was magnified in the enclosed truck, but also because this sounded like something they told us in sex ed.

"A friend of mine in high school got raped like that. She said no, but she didn't fight him off, because she was too drunk and he slept with her. She was traumatized, but she wouldn't report it because she thought it was her fault."

My head was spinning.

Keith continued, "What if it was Haley? What if she didn't want to sleep with Nathan, but she did because she was drunk. Would you want her to report it?"

If Nathan got Haley drunk and slept with her, I would kill him. I've seen enough episodes of CSI to get away with it. Or at the very least I would find some way to sabotage his basketball career. That might be worse.

Shit. This was bad. Very bad.

"I'm never telling you anything again." I said quietly.

"Fine," Keith turned the truck around, so we were headed back home.

"Where are we going?"

"You're going to talk to Mrs. Russell."

"No I'm not. I don't have to go to school until Monday."

Keith was driving dangerously fast, and he hadn't lowered his voice.

"You haven't eaten anything in almost two weeks. Don't think I haven't noticed that none of your clothes fit you anymore."

"I ate breakfast." The breakfast I ate was rumbling in my stomach, threatening to come back up. I willed it to stay down. Throwing up would just prove Keith's point.

"That hardly makes up for two weeks worth of starvation."

I didn't answer. He took that to mean that he should continue, "You never leave the house, you won't talk to me, I can hear you crying every night. I know you wake up with nightmares all the time."

I closed my eyes. I didn't want to hear this. "My mom died, Keith. What do you want from me?"

He sighed and finally stopped yelling, "I want you to talk to someone...God, Luke. I don't know what to do. I'm not a parent. I can't be your mom. Hell, I'm not even a good uncle."

"And you think that Mrs. Russell will somehow make up for your inability to stop my nightmares?" I said sarcastically.

"Don't start being a smartass, Lucas. You're going to talk to the counselor."

"No I'm not. You can't make me talk."

"Fine. Go and sit."

"No."

"Lucas!"

"No." I repeated, "I'm not going."

Keith didn't argue with me until he pulled into a visitor's parking space in front of my school. He put the truck in park and slid out of his seat. I didn't move.

He opened my door.

"Lucas, humor me. Get out of the car," He said quietly. The pleading look in his eyes was enough to get me out the truck, but it wouldn't make me talk.

We walked side by side to the counselor's office, but before we went in, I stopped him, "Don't you have like appointments, or work to do?"

"Nice try, I'm going in with you."

"I can go by myself."

"You can but you won't. You have to earn my trust back before I let you do that."

"When did I lose your trust?"

"When you raped someone and promised never to talk to me again."

"I didn't rape her!"

"I'm not having this conversation with you again. If she wanted to sleep with you, why is she so mad at you?"

Instead of responding, I took off towards the bathroom. I didn't make it all the way to a stall and threw up in the trash can, where boys would throw their paper towels away if we ever washed our hands. We don't.

I didn't hear Keith come in, but when I looked up, he was holding a paper towel out to me. I didn't take it. Instead, I walked over to sink and rinsed my mouth out. I spit a few times, trying to get the acidic taste out of my mouth. It didn't work.

"Do you have gum?" I asked, quietly, refusing to give him the full volume of my voice.

He shook his head. "Why did you throw up? Because of what I said, or because you actually ate something?"

I shook my head, showing him that I wasn't going to answer the question, and left the bathroom, letting the heavy wooden door slam behind me.

I went back to the counseling office only because I had nowhere else to go and Haley had class with Brooke this period. I sank into one of the blue chairs from the 80s and waited for Keith to catch up with me.

The cold metal arm rest provided little comfort as I buried my face in my hands. I hated fighting with Keith. I hated the sound of his loud bear voice, hated the sad look in his eyes, hated how my voice always cracked and refused to remain steady as I tried to defend myself. But most of all, I hated it when he was right.

Coincidentally, Keith walked in the door from the hallway at the same time that 800 year old Mrs. Russell walked through the door from her office to the counseling office. It was obvious right away that they knew each other.

"Keith Scott?! It's great to see you! What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Mrs. Russell. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"You're voluntarily coming into my office? I don't remember a time that I didn't have to send someone after you to drag you in here."

"I know, funny how times change, huh?"

Keith looked at me, sitting in the uncomfortable chair, trying not to look like I cared what he was going to say. "Stay there, Luke. I'll be right back."

"I can't wait," I said sarcastically.

He pointed his finger at me, threateningly, as if to say, "Watch it, mister," and he disappeared behind 800 year old Mrs. Russell into her office.

Past yearbooks and The Raven, our school newspaper, (clever name, huh?) did nothing to amuse me while Keith talked to Mrs. Russell. What was he telling her? If he told her about Peyton, would that be enough to incriminate me? This was getting complicated. I had to talk to Peyton. Immediately.

I stood up to go find where her class was, but Keith opened the door to Mrs. Russell's office.

"We're ready for you," he noticed that I was standing and said, "You weren't going anywhere, were you?"

I shook my head, but didn't move.

"Well, come on then," he motioned into the office.

I didn't move.

"If you don't come into this office right now, you're not starting on your car until next week."

"But you said-"

"I can take it back, Luke. Try me." His threatening look was back. I was beginning to think Mom somehow gave him the look before she left for Italy.

I followed him into the office.

"Lucas," Mrs. Russell motioned for me to take a seat, "I'm glad you decided to join us. I know you didn't want to come, but I'm glad you did."

I didn't answer.

"I'm very sorry about your loss. I knew your mother when she was a student here, and I liked her very much. She was-"I stopped listening. I stared at the poster with kittens and some inspiration saying about teamwork, or working together, or maybe that was the same thing, I didn't really care.

She could tell I wasn't listening. "Anyway, Lucas, I know how hard it is to lose a parent and I want you to know that I'm here for you."

"When did you lose your parents?" I asked her.

Keith looked at me, clearly thinking that I shouldn't be asking her this, but she nodded and said, "My parents are still alive." How could that be? They had to be dinosaurs.

"Then how do you know what it's like to lose a parent? They couldn't possibly teach you what it feels like in grad school."

"Luke!" Keith said warningly.

"That's a fair point. Fine. I don't know what it feels like, but I am here for you, nonetheless. I understand that you are now living with Keith."

I nodded.

"How is that working out for the two of you?"

"I'm here, aren't I? In a fucking shrink's office."

"That's enough, Luke!" Keith snapped. "You are NOT going to talk like that."

"Sorry." I muttered.

"Maybe it would be best if I talked to Lucas alone," Mrs. Russell said quietly. "Is that okay, Keith?"

He stood up. "Fine. Can someone give him a ride to my shop when you're done?"

"I don't want to go to your shop," I said.

"I can arrange for that," Mrs. Russell ignored me.

"Thanks. Behave yourself, would you, Luke?"

I waved without looking at him instead of answering and he left.

Once the door clicked shut behind him, Mrs. Russell said, "Do you want to tell me what happened today between you and Keith?"

I shook my head, "He won't get off my back."

"I believe he's concerned about you. Do you think that could be it?"

I shrugged, "I don't care. He just needs to get off my back."

"Can we play a game?"

"A game?" I repeated doubtfully.

"Yeah, you might have seen it on The Sixth Sense. We stand across the room and when I say a statement that's true, you take a step closer to me. When it's not true, you take a step backwards."

"And what do I get."

"You play the game, and I'll tell Keith that we had a good session. That might 'get him off your back,' as you put it."

I nodded. We both stood up and walked to opposite sides of the office. There were several desks in there, but hers was the only one with an occupant, giving us enough room to spread apart.

"Ready?" I nodded. "Okay, you and your mom had a great relationship. Sure you had disagreements, but you knew she loved you and you loved her back."

I took a tiny step forward. That was an easy one. Everyone in Tree Hill knew that much.

"You're mad at her for leaving her, but you also feel guilty because you wanted her to go on her trip. You keep beating yourself up about it and you don't know how to describe what you're feeling. It just hurts you inside."

I choked. My stomach rose to the region of my Adam's apple. I blinked, trying to hide the tears that I knew were starting to well in my eyes. I took another step forward.

"It's okay to cry, Lucas. There's no judging in here."

I looked down. I didn't care how "okay" it was, I wasn't going to cry at school.

"You hate your father. He left you and he can rot in hell for all you care."

I looked up. Was she allowed to say that? She smiled when I made eye contact.

"This doesn't leave the room, but I was never much of a fan of your father either."

I smiled and a tear made it way out of the outside corner of my eye. I looked down quickly and took a step forward.

"You want to go back to school because you want everything to be normal again."

I took a large step back. "I don't want to come back."

"And what do you want to do instead?"

"I thought we were playing a game. I don't have to answer that, do I?"

She shook her head and smiled, "No, you don't. Think about it, though."

"You think you miss your mom more than Keith does."

I stepped forward again.

"You can stop drinking whenever you want."

I looked up again. "What did Keith tell you?"

"Nothing that you don't already know. Is that a step forward or back?"

My eyes shot a defiant look in her direction and I stepped forward.

"You've drunken alcohol without getting drunk at some point."

"None of this leaves the room?"

"That's right."

Of course I've had alcohol without getting drunk. I didn't have to get drunk. But I couldn't think of anytime when I was drinking and stopped before I was trashed. I searched my brain, there had to be some time when I did that.

"Answer honestly, Lucas, you're not going to get in trouble."

"I don't want to play anymore."

"One more. Have you ever passed out or thrown up from drinking too much."

"I'm leaving. I don't want to play anymore."

"Sit down for a minute, Lucas."

I didn't move. I didn't trust her anymore, this was just a trick to make me think I was an alcoholic. It wasn't going to work on me.

"If you don't sit now, Keith will just drag you back here later. He is bigger than you."

"I could take him."

She laughed.

"Can I tell you a story about Keith? I bet you're curious about how we know each other."

"Okay."

"Sit down, then."

The blue chairs in her office were hardly more comfortable than the chairs outside, but outside there wasn't someone who thought I was an alcoholic and there were no fluffy kittens staring at me with judging eyes.

"Keith came to school drunk one day. Word to the wise, Lucas, don't do that. It was his sophomore year and in addition to being suspended, he had to come to me for counseling as part of his punishment."

It was not easy to imagine Keith being 16. Ever.

"He really hated it. He would skip school to get of it, and make lame excuses as to why he shouldn't have to come see me. He was a real pain in the ass, to tell you the truth."

"But you changed him and now he's a good person, right?" I said sarcastically. It was "watch it, mister" worthy. But she didn't say it.

"Not exactly. I finally added community service to his punishment, and he finally started coming to my office." She stopped and took a sip of coffee from a cat mug. She seemed like one of those crazy cat lady types. I bet she has a million cats like Haley.

"He pretty much hated me for making him do community service. He refused to talk to me for his entire sophomore and junior year. But I knew he loved cars and I got him an internship with my brother who used to own the shop he owns now. In return, he had to come talk to me once a month. I got to know him really well that year. He's a good man, your uncle. He came from a rough home, and he'll never that happen to you, Lucas."

I didn't say anything. She took another extended sip of coffee and continued, "Keith is an alcoholic."

"He's done with that." I said, even though I knew it wasn't true.

"Alcoholism never goes away. He just doesn't drink anymore. He was very worried that he somehow gave it to you."

"He didn't. I'm not an alcoholic. Besides, he's not really my father."

"His dad was an alcoholic, too. Who's to say Dan's not?"

She had a point.

"So you want me to promise that I will never drink again." All this talk about drinking was really making me want a beer.

"I just want you to think about it."

"Keith put you up to this."

She nodded, "He was concerned, yes."

She sighed deeply.

"Do you want to talk about your mom?"

I shook my head.

"When you do want to talk, I'll be right here."

I nodded. That was the right answer, wasn't it?

"I'd like to see you again Monday morning."

"Fine." I was too tired to fight her on this. Keith would just make me come anyway.

"You don't have to go to the whole day of classes. Take it at your own pace."

I fully intended on going to Pottery and that's it, but I didn't tell her that.

"You are good friends with Haley James, right?"

"Yeah, how did you know that?"

"Haley's our best tutor. I arrange the tutoring. She talks about you a lot. I can tell you're a good friend to her."

"Thanks." I said it more of a question that a statement.

"I'll get her to drive you back to the shop. I'm sure she won't mind missing a little bit of class for her best friend." She ginned at me, accentuating her generous wrinkles.

I stood up.

"Before you go," she said, motioning for me to sit back down. "We need to make some goals for the week."

"Goals?"

"Yeah, one thing that you want to accomplish before Monday."

I want to make it through a day without crying. I want to be able to keep in a meal in my stomach for more than a few hours. I want a beer. I want many beers. I want to piss Keith off. I want to play basketball. I want to buy a giant blimp and put Nathan and Dan in it and have it mysteriously explode like the Hindenburg. I want to con Haley into cleaning my room. I want my mom back.

"I can't think of anything."

"How about something with Keith? Can you try not to fight with him until Monday. Or maybe you could do one thing to make him happy."

"Sure."

"Which one?"

"The not fighting one." Making him happy would involve cleaning my room. I was still thinking I could con Haley into doing it for me.

"Excellent." She wrote on a scrap of paper. "I will try not to fight with Keith until Monday." She had me sign it and told me to put it in my pocket.

"Anytime you feel yourself getting mad at him, just feel the note in your pocket and leave the room. Or count to ten."

Take a deep breath and count to ten. That's what Mom always did when she got mad at me. Or when she knew I was about to start yelling at her, she would tell me to do the same. I felt my eyes start to water again. Damn it. Why couldn't I control my own eyes?

She saw my discomfort and made herself busy on her computer. I turned and wiped my eyes.

"Haley is in English right now. Do you want me to get her or do you want to?"

"I'll get her."

Mrs. Russell scribbled a note to excuse Haley and held it out to me.

"I will see you on Monday, Lucas."

I walked as quickly as possible without running out of the counseling office. What kind of school was this? My mom died, and then they punish me with counseling. Someone in the administration is out to get me.

On my way to the English classrooms, I ran into Mr. Jenkins. He had been promoted from 7th grade health teacher to high school vice principal. I searched for an escape, but there was none. I was just going to turn and run, but he spoke first.

"Mr. Scott," he said, trying to be threatening.

"Jenkins." I replied, not trying to be respectful. I didn't respect this man at all. My feelings toward him were closest to loathing than any other emotion. I hadn't gotten over him saying that my mom had no potential in life and getting me suspended.

"That's Mr. Jenkins."

"Mister Jenkins," I repeated, more mocking him than anything else.

"I heard about your mother. I'm sorry."

I scoffed, "I'm sure you are. Can I go now?"

"She was a very wonderful woman and I-"

"Don't try to bullshit me, Mr. Jenkins," I said.

"Excuse me?"

"I know you didn't like my mom, so don't insult her memory by trying to make up for it now. It was your loss."

I started to walk away, but he ran after me. "Do you have a hall pass, Lucas?"

"No, I don't. Where should I pick up my detention slip?"

"In my office. Now."

"I was joking. I'm not going to detention. So if you'll excuse me, I'll just be going now. Thank you for your condolences."

"I wasn't joking. I'm not going to tolerate your disrespect."

"My disrespect? It was you who told me that my mom didn't accomplish anything. Well let me tell you, there were more people at her funeral than will ever be at yours, so you have no room to talk." I turned around and walked away.

"I'm calling your parents," he said.

"Fine, you do that," I told him, without turning back around.

"So, let me get this straight," Haley said on the way to her mom's car that she drove to school. "You came up here just for the fun of it and got a letter from Mrs. Russell to let me drive you home? I don't buy it, Luke. Try again."

"I was going to the shop with Keith, but he freaked out on me and made me come talk to Mrs. Russell."

"For no reason?"

"I don't really want to talk about it."

"Okay." She gave up too easily. Haley was an "ask until they break down and tell you the truth" kind of person. Come to think of it, she was looking really distracted.

"Is something wrong, Hales?"

"No, I just- um, can I make a phone call really quickly?"

"Sure."

"And can you, like, not listen?"

"I'll do my best to temporarily recess my hearing."

Her mysterious phone call was to Nathan. She left a message. I would have been better off I could have temporarily stopped my hearing. It went like this: "Hi Nate, it's me. (In that sweet, flirtatious way. Gross.) I'm taking Luke home during lunch, so I can't go out to lunch with you. I'll go tomorrow. I promise. Lots of kisses. Bye."

Haley threw her phone back in her bag. Her cheeks were red.

"Lots of kisses?!" I repeated.

"Shut up, Luke. I told you not to listen."

"It's not really something I can control."

"Leave me alone," I didn't know she could turn that red.

"What were you going to do with Nathan?"

"Nothing."

"Liar! What were you gonna do?"

"He's been taking me home during lunch to feed my kitten."

"Feed your kitten? That doesn't sound like something Nathan would agree to."

"Well he did. You don't know him, Lucas, so you have no right to judge. He's a lot more compassionate with my pets than you are." Oh how quickly she got defense. I hate that guy.

"Ouch!"

"It's true," she said like she wanted to apologize, but she had to stand her ground.

"I'm compassionate with your pets!"

"Okay. If you say so."

"I'll feed your kitten."

"I have to take you home."

"It doesn't matter. We can take a detour."

"You're gonna feed my kitty? She does drink from a bottle."

"I know." It took all my effort not to cringe.

Feeding the kitten was painful. Physically as well as mentally. Haley put the formula in the tiny bottle that was about the size of my thumb. She heated it up as the little kitten danced around the shoebox Haley put her in. She tried to run, but her front legs were slower than her back legs and she tripped over herself, somersaulting headfirst into the side of the cardboard box. I laughed until Haley shot me a dirty look. I didn't see why laughing at a baby cat was not compassionate. Haley took pity on the little cat and handed her to me. I was still laughing.

She gave me the bottle and said, "Okay, Mr. Compassionate, feed her."

"What do I do?"

Haley put her hand over mine and put the bottle in the kitten's mouth. She put the kitten in my other hand, upside down, where she didn't even fill the palm of my hand. The kitten was obviously hungry. She clawed at the bottle and caught my fingers at the part where the nail meets the skin. "OW!"

Haley laughed. "Hold your hand higher up on the bottle."

"The kitten still reached my finger and clawed underneath my nail."

"This cat hates me!" I declared, after properly massaging my fingers and handing the demon cat back to Haley.

"No she doesn't. You did well, though. Nathan wouldn't give her the whole bottle when she tore his skin under his nail."

"See I am compassionate."

"Sure Luke."

"So your mom hasn't found it yet."

"Nope. SHE is still a secret."

"I give it another week."

"You have so little faith."

"I have faith. I have faith in your mom's ability to hear the cat meowing."

The cat was asleep my hand. Curled up in a ball, it almost took up the entire surface area of my palm. Haley looked at it like it was her child. Oh wait, it was her child.

"How did your talk with Mrs. Russell go?"

"Fine," I looked away.

"Okay, change of subject, are you playing in tomorrow's basketball-"

"What do you see in him anyway?" I interrupted before she could finish her question. This question was haunting me since I heard her on the phone with his answering machine.

"With whom? Nathan?"

"Yeah Nathan. He's such an asshole. What do you see in him?"

She took the sleeping kitten from my hand and slipped it back into the shoebox before answering.

"You wouldn't understand."

"I do understand. I understand all the rotten things he's done to me. I understand all the rotten things he's done to you. He's exactly like his father, Hales and you know what that bastard's like."

"You don't understand all the great things he's done for me."

"Like what?"

"I don't want to talk about this with you. You've already decided that he's a jerk and you can't change your mind until you decide to."

"When did you turn into Ann Landers?"

She stood up, signaling the end of the conversation and making it very clear that she was pissed at me. "I need to go back to class. I'll take you home."

"Hales," I sighed. Great, I made someone else mad. It was a new record. Let's see if I can get into the double digits for people I can piss off in one day.

"Hales I'm sorry. Date whoever you want."

"I don't need your permission to date Nathan."

"I know." I sighed. "I just think you can do better."

Haley's phone rang, stopping her response, which knowing Haley would have included either her pounding on me or giving me some kind of finger gesture.

"That's probably Nathan now," she said, answering without looking at the caller ID.

Her startled face showed me immediately that it wasn't Nathan. The angry voice that I could hear from the other end told me exactly who it was.

"Keith!"

"Haley, I need to talk to Lucas."

I shook my hands wildly. She gave me a "I can't lie to him" look. I gave her my puppy face. She shot me a dirty look and said, "He's not here."

"How much is he paying you? I know he's there."

She handed me the phone.

"I don't want to talk to him," I hissed.

"Luke, please pick up the phone," Keith said desperately from the other side of the conversation.

"Hi," I said, as dully as I could muster.

"Listen kid," Keith said, "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"Did Mrs. Russell make you say that?"

"Yes," he laughed, "And now she's back to ordering me around again."

"What else did she tell you?"

"Nothing. I asked, but she said whatever you talked about was confidential."

"Good."

"So what did you talk about?"

"It's confidential."

"You suck."

"As do you."

"At least we have that settled."

"No we don't. I said that you suck. I never said that I did."

"You should talk to Peyton."

"There's no way I'm talking to you about this."

"I don't want to talk, just talk to Peyton. That's it. I'm done."

"Good."

"Are you coming to the shop?"

"No."

"Then I'll see you at home later. Don't forget we have my mom's birthday dinner tonight."

My stomach turned over. I felt like I was going to throw up again.

"I don't want to go."

"You already agreed. It's too late to back out."

"Shit."

"Don't say shit."

"You just did."

"Whatever, Lucas. I'll see you later. Stay out of trouble."

That was weird. He didn't get mad at me for not going to the shop. He didn't lecture me anymore and he actually apologized? Mrs. Russell was behind this. She had to be.