Chapter 6

"Hey," Nathan said to the group as he sat down, looping his thumbs through his backpack straps, lifting it off his shoulders and dropping it on the ground.

"Hey," Peyton and Jake replied casually, as Haley remained silent beside him, watching him carefully.

Nathan could feel all of their eyes on him. None more than Haley's who were managing to burn holes right through the side of his head. He turned to her, his face still. He figured, if he wanted he could torture them by holding out, but what was the point in putting off the inevitable. Especially when Haley looked like she was about ready to jump out of her skin.

"So I talked to Whitey," he said calmly, assuming Jake had already told her and Peyton about the posted results.

"Yeah?" Haley smiled softly, trying not to push him, yet letting him know she was curious to see what his news was.

"Yeah," Nathan propped his elbow on top of the table so he could lean back leisurely. "He said I had a lot of potential and raw talent and blah, blah, blah, but he couldn't put me on JV."

Haley's stomach dropped. "Why not," she cried, completely confused. Across the table Peyton and Jake had similar looks marring their faces. This wasn't really happening was it? This couldn't be happening?

"Because," Nathan began dejectedly, "He said I'd be better suited for starting point guard on Varsity."

Haley blinked, making sure she'd heard him right, her mouth falling open into a huge O.

"Tell me you're not kidding," she searched Nathan's eyes, and watched as his mask of indifference faded into a genuine smile, his entire face beaming in the afternoon sunlight.

"Do I ever kid around with you," he smirked, and Haley let out a loud squeal, wrapping her arms around Nathan's neck and pulling him into a hug. Their entire table erupted into excited laughter, garnering a few prying eyes, but none of them particularly caring.

"That's awesome, man," Jake chuckled, reaching over the table and giving Nathan the obligatory slap on the back.

"I knew you could do it Nathan. Oh, I'm so proud of you," Haley squirmed around in her seat, unable to keep still as the smile on her face stretched wide. Her body buzzing as she remained in his loose embrace.

Across the table Peyton couldn't help the grin that cracked across her face. "Nathan Scott-Varsity basketball player. God Help us all," she shook her head and sighed. Nathan reached over and stuck his hand in her unruly blonde hair, mussing it up and causing her to bat his hands away in irritation, even as they all continued to laugh.

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Nathan came into the kitchen once he got home from school that day, heading straight for the fridge for his favorite sports drink. His mother was standing by the sink, rinsing each dish separately before putting it into the dishwasher. When she saw her son come in, she smiled at him brightly.

"Hi sweetie. How was school?"

Nathan pulled the refrigerator door open, sticking his head inside to inspect what was there. "I made the team," he answered simply, and pulled out his drink and some left over pizza.

"Oh, that's...good for you."

Nathan puffed out a quiet snort. His mother was never known for being supportive of his dreams to be a basketball player. She was in all matters, almost completely against it. But the fact that she couldn't at least show a modicum of joy for his achievement, hurt more than he could say. She might as well be stomping on his heart with every fake smile and insincere word she blew out, because in the end it did nothing but spur his anger for her and cause him more pain.

"The coach put me on Varsity. Starting point guard, actually," Nathan through out casually, shoving his accomplishment in her face.

Deb was admittedly perplexed, but chose to smile at her son. "Wow. That's a big step. Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Nathan swung the refrigerator door closed. "Why wouldn't I be," he turned to his mother defensively.

Deb kept her ever-present smile on her face. "Just be careful Nate. It's only-

"I know. It's only a game," he rolled his eyes. He didn't think he could handle hearing his mother say that to him for the next four years. Especially since he didn't understand where it was coming from. Sure his mother didn't want him to play, she'd made that fact well known. But then why the signed permission slip? And what was that bit about Whitey telling him he'd recognized him as Dan Scott's son? There were just too many pieces of this puzzle that didn't fit, and he was ready to find out some answers.

Nathan watched his mother's back as she stood at the sink scrubbing some grime off a pan. The question he'd been itching to ask her for the past few days was at the front of his mind. "Who's Whitey, Mom?"

The dish cloth that was pressed between the dirty pan and Deb's hand stilled for the briefest of moments. "You're new coach? Am I right," she began scrubbing the pan again.

"Yeah," Nathan replied, walking around the island to the other side of her. "But how did you know that? I never told you his name."

Deb chuckled at her son condescendingly. "Well everybody knows of Whitey, sweetie. He's lived in this town for over sixty years."

She had a point, but Nathan still didn't think it fit. "He said he knew Dad."

"You're father played basketball a little in highschool Nathan. He told you that," she replied, slipping the pan into the dishwater, closing it up, and then wiping her hands on the blue and cream colored apron she had wrapped around her waist. She came up to her son and placed a soft hand on his shoulder.

"Listen Nate, there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about..."

Nathan stayed in his place, watching his mother's face like a hawk.

"I've decided to go back to work."

"When?"

"In a week or two probably. I know you don't like the idea of me doing this, but I can't sit around this house any more without anything to do. Plus, Emily down at the Care House mentioned needing some extra help, it won't be so bad. Just a few days here and there."

Yeah right. Nathan knew how ibad/i it was before his Dad died and his mother was working. He knew it would only be worse now. Inwardly he rolled his eyes and moved to leave the room. "Congratulations on going back to work. That's great Mom. Really. I hope you have fun. Try to stop by one of my games if you have time."

"It won't be like before," she tried to reassure him, but he shook his head. He knew how it went. He always knew.

"Yeah, until you start staying late and leaving town on the weekends, right. Because we both know that's going to happen, don't we," he spit out at her and then spun around, stomping down the hallway to the stairs.

"Nathan," Deb called as he left.

"Forget it," he yelled back, not wanting nor needing to listen to his mother spew out more empty promises that she would never fulfill.

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"So Whitey said this was what, like a trial-run," Haley asked, lounging on the end of Nathan's bed.

She'd come over right after her last tutee had left for the day, eagerly wanting to know more about what Whitey had said during their meeting, and why his name wasn't on the list like the rest of the boys. Nathan explained that Whitey did it in the interest of saving the other freshman hurt feelings, due to his astounding talent that just blew them all away. At that point she had hit him with a pillow and declared him the most arrogant boy she'd ever met, to which he responded that it wasn't arrogance if he was just that good, and things had went down hill from there.

When Haley finally got him back on track twenty minutes later, he'd said that Whitey was giving him a one chance opportunity to prove to him that he was ready to play with a team largely filled with Seniors and a few Juniors. And if it wasn't meant to be there was always next year, but he was willing to take the risk with Nathan. Nathan hadn't forgotten that part.

"No, not really. I'll still be on the team if I screw up, I just have to choose whether I want to sit on the bench for the rest of the season or jump to JV. But I'm not worried about it."

"Of course you're not," Haley exhaled, knowing there were no bounds to how high Nathan's confidence could go. "So when's practice start?"

"Tomorrow," he snatched his toy ball from his desk and plopped down on the bed next to Haley.

"Already?"

"Yeah, that's kind of the point," he laughed, trying to spin the ball on the tip of his extended pointer finger.

Haley watched him attempt to get the ball to spin a few times before she glanced at her watch and noticed it was nearing nine, and her mother would want her home soon. Not to mention the math test she had to begin studying for, and the student counsel proposal she needed to review before Thursday's meeting and...she had to go now.

Pushing herself up off the bed, she grabbed her bag off the ground and fit it on her shoulder. "Well, call me when you're through. You're going to need somebody to help bandage the wounds."

"For what," Nathan caught the ball in his hand and met Haley's eyes.

"From all the Seniors that are going to kick your ass tomorrow," she teased, sticking out her tongue.

"They'll have to get their hands on me first. And, come on, we all know that's not happening," Nathan replied with pure cockiness.

Haley scoffed. "Whatever you say ball-boy. Just remember to deflate your head before you go to bed tonight. You wouldn't want all that pent up air affecting your beauty sleep."

"That's true." Nathan stayed still for a moment, smiling.

Surprised by his lack of reaction Haley moved to leave when she saw Nathan lunge off the bed. He swiftly caught her by the arm, pulling her to the ground and tickling her until she couldn't breathe.

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The next day, 15 minutes or so after his last period, Nathan walked into the locker room and changed his clothes. When he was done he treaded out onto the court, taking in shallow breaths. Several of the Varsity players were scattered across the bleachers, some talking to the cheerleaders, others talking to each other. At the far end of the gym a group of upperclassmen stood around in a loose circle. One of them took notice of Nathan and nodded for the others to look Nathan's way.

A senior that Nathan recognized as Dillon Neevus stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest menacingly as he set his eyes upon him. "Welcome Freshman," he said, his mouth curving up into an offensive smirk.

Nathan put on an unaffected mask and walked toward the group, even as the underlying feeling that he'd just thrown himself into the hornet's nest scratched at the back of his neck with a dull edge.