This story was inspired by the song "Twister" by Remy Zero, and was originally a diatribe against Haley, but my love for N/H took over and well…just read it.
Real
by Mallory
He's leaning against the railing of the apartment's balcony, and when the door opens, he hears it, but doesn't move; he gave Lucas a key last week and assumes it could only be him. But after a moment he realizes that the footsteps are too soft, too soft for Lucas' Nike sneakers, that they are a girl's sandals, a girl who always preferred sandals, even when she finally started wearing heels, but he still does not turn around.
She doesn't say anything, but walks slowly up to him, and then stands next to him and leans against the railing. She does not look at him and he does not look at her. Finally he says, "Why are you here?" And his voice is defeated.
She does not say anything. He runs a hand through his hair. "Why are you here?" he asks again, and his voice is a little bit louder.
"I had to see you," she answers after a moment.
He closes his eyes and hates the fact that she can come and go.
"And what are you going to say this time, Haley?" His voice is bitter. "Are you going to say you love me again? Because I am so tired – " he rubs his temples – "of hearing that. You're never coming back."
She places her hand on top of his. "Nathan," she says. "I'm here to say good-bye."
He looks at her for the first time since she came in. He doesn't know what to say. He never – even when he thought he wanted her to – he never dreamed that she would tell him that she was leaving him. For real. For good. And now that she has, he suddenly feels frozen, like his whole body has been plunged into ice, and he can't move, can't even breathe.
"Good-bye," he whispers.
"Yeah," she says softly, and he's not sure what he hears in her voice.
She looks at him, and even though he's staring at his hands, he knows that her eyes are on him. It is a fleeting glance, and then she inhales, and says, "Good-bye, Nathan." She turns and slowly walks away, and her feet make no sound, but he twists around to watch her, as she slips out of the door and silently closes it behind her.
He closes his eyes and hates the fact that he is still in love with her.
Lucas comes over a few hours later. It is late, because it was already late when Haley came, and when the door opens, Nathan lets himself believe for a second that it is Haley, beautiful Haley, and that she is coming back from grocery shopping, that there is no Chris, and there is no music, or, rather, there is, but it is still only for him, and that she will set the groceries down on the counter and run to him and kiss him and…he looks up and sees Lucas.
"Hey, man," Nathan says, willing his voice not to betray him. There's nothing left to burn, or tear, or break, or shatter; there's nothing left to destroy. All that remains is the aching behind his eyes and the warm tears that trickle down his cheek and the waver in his voice.
Lucas looks at him for a moment, appraisingly, and says, "Haley's around."
"I know," says Nathan, voice trembling.
"She came here, then. She didn't say."
"What did she say?"
"Said she needed a place to crash, just for a couple of nights."
"And what did you say?"
"Nathan – "
"So she's staying with you. Do you have any idea what she said to me tonight? Do you have any idea?" Lucas opens his mouth to speak but Nathan cuts him off. "She came here, and she – she put her hand on top of mine and she said – she said good-bye." He pauses, shuddering. "And that was it. I mean. That. Was. It. The end. The absolute end to everything between Haley and me. With just one word. Just one fucking word."
"I'm sorry," Lucas says quietly.
After a moment, Nathan says, "It's all right." And then, abruptly, "I'll see you later then." He opens the door. Lucas looks at him, wordlessly, and exits. Nathan closes the door behind him and then leans against it.
The next day, Nathan walks down to Lucas's house, basketball in hand. He's going to ask his brother if he wants to go to the River Court and play a game of one-on-one, and it's not until she answers the door that he remembers Haley is staying here, and that maybe he shouldn't have come, and all he can do is stutter out, "I'm here to see Lucas."
"Lucas!" she yells, and disappears.
Lucas comes to the door, scratching his head. "Hey. What's up?"
Nathan says, trying to forget that Haley was just standing here, not looking at him, not even really speaking to him, "I thought you might want to go play some ball."
"Yeah, sure."
Lucas puts his sneakers on and closes the door behind him. They walk, slowly to the River Court, Nathan bouncing the ball in an irregular rhythm. Finally, Nathan says, as they are nearing the Court, "Why is she here?" His voice is both irritated and miserable, and demands an answer that no one can give him.
"I don't know, man. I really don't know."
A couple days later Nathan walks down to the River Court. He shoots a few baskets, and after missing the third, sits down on top of the picnic table dejectedly and stares at his hands. He hears Lucas's car, but does not look up, and even when his brother sits next to him, Nathan still doesn't look at Lucas, but concentrates fixedly on the dirt under his left middle finger nail. "Are you okay?" Lucas asks, quietly.
He doesn't say anything for a long time, and Lucas wonders if he's heard him. Finally, Nathan exhales. "If she would just give me something. God, please let her give me something," he says, and his voice cracks.
Lucas pats him awkwardly on the shoulder. "It'll be okay," he says. "It'll be okay."
"What?" Nathan says bitterly. "You think I'll just get over her? You think I'll find someone else?" Lucas doesn't say anything. "You know, until Haley," Nathan continues, "I never thought that there could be just one girl. The girl. But that was Haley. Haley was the girl. And now. She's. Just. Gone."
Lucas looks at him helplessly.
"But the thing is, she's not just gone," Nathan says, "She's here. And she won't leave. And she's fucking haunting me, when I see her at your house or at the café or at Tric or at a party. Doesn't she have that goddamn music tour to keep her busy? Why the hell is she still here?
"And she doesn't even – doesn't even act like I'm around." He isn't even talking to Lucas anymore, isn't even really sure of what he is saying; the words just push past his mouth desperately. "If she would just give me something. Because, you know what, I could be what she wanted me to be. I'm not that guy that she doesn't want anymore. I'm – I don't know – I'm a guy that she could want."
"Nathan – "
"No, you know what, I know. I know she's never coming back. And everything I thought I wanted from her, and God, everything I told you I wanted from her, is what she's done. She's – she's let me go. And I thought I'd feel – so – so much better. I thought that I needed her to say goodbye, because my life was just – stopped, and I was hanging around Haley James like I couldn't let go, because I needed her to let me go, and now she has."
Lucas doesn't know what to say.
Nathan throws the ball down and walks away.
Karen's café is closed, and he checks his watch, and realizes that it is late. He is about to turn and go, when he notices something through the door. He turns back and sees Haley standing, pressed up against the glass door, looking out at him. He is reminded, strangely, of another time when they had stood there like this, when she had locked the door against him.
He turns and begins walking away. He hears the door open behind him. "Nathan!" she calls, and he turns back to her. She's running toward him, and he stands and waits for her. She comes up and stands so close to him that he can feel her breath on his skin.
"You're different," she says, breathlessly. "I didn't notice until now. But you are." She touches his cheek with the back of her hand.
He places his hand on top of hers and breathes in and feels that this – this is it. It is warm where her skin touches his, and they are looking at each other, really looking, and she has given him what he needs – another chance. And he promises her silently as they gaze into each other's eyes that he would make it work this time.
"Let's go home," he says, knowing and hardly believing that she would say yes.
She holds his hand as they walk home.
The next day, Nathan wakes up, and she is blissfully, blissfully, wrapped in his arms, and it's as if she never left, and that just yesterday he had woken up like this and kissed her awake. He smiles, and reaches out to touch her hair, and she smiles and opens her eyes and looks at him.
"Good morning," she says, voice sleepy and happy.
"Good morning," he whispers. He'd forgotten how perfect this felt, enveloped in each other's arms, and looking – just looking. This was the feeling he had missed, this was the feeling he had longed for, and now he had found it again.
She kisses him and he kisses her back and it feels just wonderful and oh so right, as if his lips were made for hers and hers for his, and he sinks into the feeling. She breaks the kiss, and looks at him, eyes warm.
She sits up suddenly. "I'm making breakfast. What do you want? An omelet? You like those; I remember."
She gets out of bed and he watches her, and he can't seem to stop smiling, and feeling that this is it, that this is where he's supposed to be, and he says, "I don't actually think there's any food in the fridge."
She smiles at him. "I can make due."
So they have toast that morning, toast with butter, because that's all Nathan really has, and when she puts it on the table, he's surprised by the fact that the bread hadn't gone moldy. And then she sits down next to him, and puts a piece of toast to her mouth, and he watches her, and all thoughts of moldy bread just disappear.
She stays three days.
At night they stand out on the balcony. There is a light breeze, and it is playing with her hair.
He says, "I love you, Haley. So much."
And then she says, "Nathan, I need to go. I need to – this is goodbye. I'm leaving Tree Hill. I'm going back to New York. I thought I could make this work. But I can't. I'm sorry." She looks like she's going to cry, and all he can think is how strange it is that she feels that she must always break his heart on the balcony.
And he wants to say, But aren't I the person you wanted me to be? Didn't you come back to me? Did I beg and plead with God for you to send me a sign? And didn't you send me that sign? You came home, Haley. How can you just leave me again?
But he says nothing.
She packs her bags and leaves, and he watches her go.
And all he is left with is an empty apartment, an empty apartment that is clean now, clean because she had forced him out of bed two mornings ago to clean it with her, and his memories. All Haley has ever left him with is memories.
It takes a while, but Nathan Scott gets over Haley James.
Slowly, he realizes that Haley is a lingering, quiet daydream that is all at once beautiful and transient, and that, for him, she will never be real.
And once he's over her, she comes back.
"Why are you here?" he asks, voice emotionless.
"I was wrong," she says, voice trembling. "I thought you needed to change. But I was – I was wrong. It was me. I was the one who had to change. And now I have. Or I can."
"Why are you here?" he asks again.
"Because – because I love you Nathan, and – and I'm – I'm miserable."
He turns away from her and goes into the kitchen and gets a soda out of the fridge. She follows him. "Aren't you going to say anything?"
"You know, Haley, you might be for real this time, but you know what? I really don't care. You've lied to me too much, and you've hurt me too much. And you come back because you're miserable? What about me? What about all those nights I lay awake just praying for you to come home?"
"But – but we love each other, Nathan. I know you better than anyone."
"You know what," Nathan says, walking over to the front door and opening it, "I don't think you do." He gestures to the door.
"You don't mean – "
"Get out, Haley."
She looks at him, stunned, and runs out the door.
A couple days later, Lucas drags Nathan down to the River Court. They play for a while without talking, but it's clear Lucas has something he wants to talk about, and Nathan knows it's probably about Haley, so he wishes Lucas would just hurry up and say it.
"Haley's staying at my place again," Lucas says finally, as he watches the basketball go through the hoop.
Nathan catches it as it falls, and says, "Really?"
"Does that bother you?"
"Not in the slightest."
"You've gotten over her, haven't you? I mean you did say you had a couple weeks ago, but you're really over her, aren't you?"
Nathan shoots the ball. "Yes, I am."
"Nathan…," Lucas begins, and stops. Nathan looks at him. "Nathan," Lucas begins again, "I think that's incredibly sad." Nathan shoots the basketball again, and doesn't say anything. "Look, Nate, what you had with Haley – that was real." Nathan looks down at the ground. "And you shouldn't just give it up for – for nothing."
"It wasn't for nothing," Nathan interjects angrily.
"Whatever. The point is – she came back to you. She loves you. And she wants to make it work this time."
"She wanted to make it work last time," he says, voice bitter.
"I'm not saying she didn't say that. And I'm not saying she hasn't made mistakes. Because she has. But she's different now. She's changed. And she really wants you back."
Nathan doesn't say anything.
And then Lucas says, looking at him, staring at him, "It was real, Nathan. You know that."
Real, Nathan reflects when he gets home. Haley is never real. Her promises are always too weightless, and she leaves too noiselessly. Haley, the Haley he knows, is made up of air. Beautiful, ephemeral wisps of air. And no matter how beautiful she is, and no matter what she says, that's all she is: air.
And their relationship, he says to himself, or, rather, repeats to himself, because he's been telling himself for weeks, ever since she left, is weightless and light and insubstantial also. Ever since the beginning when…
Well, he supposes, he hadn't been real in the beginning. And she had forgiven him for that. He sits up in his chair, and thinks she forgave me. He stands slowly, and then walks out the door, and to Lucas's house.
She opens the door.
Some things are real.
