Colossal Mistakes and Tiny Miracles

by scatteredlight

AU Nathan Haley, friends to lovers to exfriends to more? story.

4. The Cycles of Love and Loathing

Chapter Three – The Cycles of Love and Loathing

The first few days are hard. Harder than anything I've ever been through, and things haven't always been rosy in the past. This, though, this is so personal to me, so it just hits harder.

I can tell that Brooke is worried about me, so I guess that means my effort put towards putting up a good front are completely for naught. I don't want her to feel like she has to worry about me, but she is right now. She's been awesome, though, and I really don't know what I'd do without her.

We don't talk about him or any of the things that led to me staying here. There is just nothing about that I'm ready to talk about yet, not in terms of Nathan. Brooke saw him when she went over the day after I left to get a few things for me, and she said he looked rough, but I requested that she not tell me anymore. I just wasn't ready to hear it.

Now, though, I'm thinking of asking her what happened when she went over there. She won't like it when I do; she'll accuse me of acting weak towards him again and giving him an opening, no matter how unintentional. I can hear it now. 'Haley, you can't let him in again, he's just going to hurt you. Look at what he's already done,' she'd say.

And she wouldn't be wrong. Oh, how painfully aware of that fact I am. The blows he threw at my ego are astoundingly huge, and in some ways it feels like the bruises left behind keep getting bigger and bigger. It's logical to assume that everything within me, all this pain and frustration and anger will dissipate someday, and maybe I won't even think about it, but in the here and now, it is consuming.

"Haley James!" Brooke yells from the kitchen of her house, "Get your scrawny ass down here now!"

I jog into the kitchen, looking at her expectantly. "What the hell are you bellowing at me for? You knew I was just in the other room."

"I just wanted to get your attention," she smiles sweetly. I roll my eyes at her and sit down at the counter on one of the barstool. "So, I figure we have two options," she announces once I'm settled, "One, we stay here and you mope tonight, or two, we get dressed up all fabulously and hit the town."

"I don't know," I sigh, knowing which option she'll obviously push for, "I don't know if I'm ready to go out. God, what if we run into you know who?"

She snorts in amusement, "Oh, honey, there is no way that will happen." I raise an eyebrow at her, the question unasked. "Look, I know you didn't want me to tell you about what he looked like when I stopped by there, but he was trashed. Someone kicked his ass but good, and judging by the bruises and cuts on his hands, he did his fair share of ass kicking. So don't feel sorry for him."

It's my turn to snort. "Please, like I'd feel sorry for him after everything. I'm just sorry I wasn't the one to kick his ass."

She laughs, genuinely this time. "So, can we talk about a few things I've found out?" she asks tentatively, "Because you might not think you want to know, but you'd kick my ass later if I didn't tell you."

"Okay," I drawl out, "Go ahead, I guess."

She looks nervous, and that surprises me. I can't imagine what she'd have to feel nervous about in terms of discussing Nathan with me. "Here, you should see this first," she tells me, handing me the newspaper.

I take it with a shaking hand, the part of me that is bitter against Nathan steeling myself for whatever it says. Another, kinder, gentler part of me, is genuinely curious as to what the paper holds. Scanning the article Brooke points out, my eyes raise to hers in surprise. "It was a joke?"

She shrugs. "Yeah, I guess so. They printed a retraction, and Javey apologized publicly for it."

"Okay, wow," I mumble, feeling dizzy over this development. If I was wrong about this, could I be wrong about anything else?

"Don't even think it," Brooke warns, "Don't let those wheels start turning and making you think that maybe he's not the planets biggest, evilest jerk ever."

"No, he's not," I correct, smiling a little when she looks dubious. "Believe me, I met that man, and Nathan has nothing on him."

"Right," she says slowly, "Well, I still hope you're not thinking that this absolves him because he doesn't deserve that. Not after what he did to you."

I shake my head. "I can't," I say simply, "I think the only thing I'll always remember about this is that he dumped me in my own bed. Basically kicked me out. God, Brooke, he never even kissed me on the mouth. What does that tell you?"

"You had bad breath?" she wonders, shrugging.

"I'd have figured you'd be a 'Pretty Woman' fan," I comment, laughing at her bewildered look, "Sorry, it's just in the movie, Julia Roberts' character was a hooker who wouldn't kiss her, um, clients on the mouth. Too intimate. So the fact that he didn't kiss me on the mouth suggests that he didn't really want to be intimate with me, right?"

"Did he kiss you in other places?" she asks, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

I roll my eyes at her juvenile giggling. "Yes, he did, but that's beside the point. He didn't kiss me, not really."

"So what? For the record, it sounds like what he did was way more intimate, at least in my estimation. But more importantly, who cares? He treated you like crap all around. What difference does that make?"

I shrug. "I don't know, it just mattered to me. And it kind of feels like it sums up everything between us, you know? I'm worth so little to him that he can't even kiss my lips when we're – we're, you know."

"If you can't say it, you shouldn't do it," she teases. I flip her off tiredly, and she just smirks at me. "Look, I'm not trying to make you feel bad, really. Make that worse, he's already made you feel bad enough, I guess."

"Brooke," I sigh.

"Sorry, sorry. Um, maybe I shouldn't point this out, but did you read all the way through the article?"

Picking it back up off the counter, I quickly skim through to the end, gasping when I read that Nathan and Susie have since broken up. "Oh, my God, they broke up. The day that the engagement was made in the paper. Brooke!"

"Don't get all excited about it, Haley!" she exclaims, "Look, I showed you this because you needed to know, not so that you'd think maybe he wasn't such a creep. Because he is a creep! Don't let yourself forget that just because he broke up with that little twit."

"I'm not forgetting that. I couldn't even if I wanted to, and I don't. I'm just reacting to the news, that's all," I groan, defensive, "Not only is he not engaged, but he's not even seeing Susie anymore. I don't know what to make of that!"

She shakes her head sadly at me. "You're so going to give into his shit again, aren't you? Because it is certainly starting to look that way to me."

"Like I said, I couldn't even if I wanted to." I rest my chin on my hands. "Brooke, even if I forgave him, I don't think I could forget, you know? Even if he had intended on breaking up with Susie all along, which I doubt he did, he still made it perfectly clear that sleeping with me wasn't something he cared that much about."

She nods. "So, who is the hot blonde guy that was at Nathan's when I went over to get those books you forgot?"

I shrug, a little stab to my heart when she refers to it as just Nathan's place. "What'd he look like? It was probably a guy he plays pick-up ball with."

"Blonde, spiky hair, like he's a dumb boy who doesn't know how to make it look normal. Um, really gorgeous blue eyes, built nicely. Know him?"

"I don't know. Brooke, you know Nathan and I haven't been spending much time together, it stands to reason that I wouldn't necessarily know this guy."

"He knew you." I glance at her in surprise. "Yup, he sure did," she confirms at my look, "I don't know, there was a weird vibe between him and Nathan. Almost like they didn't even like each other much. You'd think that from all the glaring. Well, Nathan couldn't really glare, what with the one eye black and the other swollen almost shut, but you get the picture."

My breath catches in my throat and concern for him threatens to overwhelm me. "How bad was he hurt? Was he okay?"

She looks at me in a pitying, sad way, but doesn't say anything. "I don't know, he looked like he got his ass kicked. But if Susie broke up with him, he was probably looking for a fight. And it just looked like he got it. He wasn't dying or anything."

She keeps giving me that look like I'm mentally ill for still caring what happens to him. "He was my best friend since the first day we met," I begin softly, wanting her to understand that some bonds can't be broken overnight, "A fifth grader was picking on him. We were in kindergarten at the time, and I stopped that jerk from picking on him."

"Typical," she snorts, "He needed you to do something for him. Did he ever do anything for you? Anything to protect you?"

"All the time," I answer softly, sadly. "When we were in the second grade, our class was doing an outdoor project, and one of the kids other disturbed a beehive. When we were running away from it, I fell and was getting stung. Nathan was the only one, including the teacher, who came back for me."

"He was seven then," she reasons, "He still had plenty of time to realize his full asshole potential from that point. Which he did."

"And then, when we started junior high, I was still really shy, and these popular girls were picking on me. Nathan made them stop, and throughout the rest of high school, he was never once nice to them. And our freshman year of high school, I took my parents car out for a 'test drive' before I got my license, and when I hit the mailbox, he fixed the mailbox and tried to take the fall for taking the car." I smile at the memory. "My parents saw through it, but he insists to this day to them that he was the one who did it."

"Once a liar, always a liar," she sighs.

"And then, when my high school boyfriend broke up with me because Nathan was my best friend and I wouldn't turn against him, something I wasn't going to compromise no matter the relation between them, Nathan was the one who stood by me. He never treated me badly for dating Luke, even though he hated him as much as Luke hated him."

"Okay, I'm officially confused by this story, but do go on," she rolls her eyes.

"Luke is Nathan's brother," I explain, "And they were taught to hate each other as they grew up. Nathan saved Luke's life one night, and they've had a truce of sorts ever since but it is still never easy for them."

"Maybe that's who was at Nathan's apartment," she muses thoughtfully, "I mean, the blonde hair kind of throws you off that track, but it seems like they could be brothers."

"No. No way. I cannot imagine a single scenario in which Luke would come to town. He – he only tolerates Nathan to the point of obligation and gratitude, and Nathan is still so uncomfortable and unsure around him. There is just no way those two would voluntarily spend time together like this."

She shrugs. "I don't know, whoever it was, they had some really weird vibe between them. It seemed weird the blonde guy was there."

"Damn, maybe it is Luke," I sigh, now worried about Nathan having to deal with him.

"Well, maybe it's him, maybe it isn't," she sighs at my expression, "And who cares anyway? It's not like you want to hang out with anyone associated with Nathan, do you?"

"No, of course not," I agree, knowing it is what she wants to hear from me, "I don't want Nathan to have any part in my life, but at the same time, I still don't want him to be hurt, not the way Lucas could hurt him, anyway."

"You're too soft," Brooke sighs, "You should be out for blood with him, Haley! He did everything that you shouldn't want to have done to you, and you still feel bad for him! I don't get it!"

I shake my head, understanding her point, but not agreeing with it wholeheartedly. "First, I can't turn off my emotions with the flip of the switch. You know that. And second, I know the whole story of the Nathan/Lucas saga, and I know it is filled with harsh words, lies, tragedy, and grief. And I know that even if I'm angry with him and want to cut him out of my life, that Nathan still doesn't deserve to relive that through Luke's visit."

She's quiet for a minute, digesting my words. "Well, I don't want to see you hurt again, not by that slick piece of slime, and I'm afraid you're going to put yourself in that position. I'm sorry, but I don't have the desire to watch him drag you through the mud again. He's left you dirty enough this time."

"Brooke," I cut in, stopping when she puts a hand up in the air.

"No, listen to me, Haley! I can't make your decisions for you, and even if I even keep trying, you'll probably just grow to resent and hate me, anyway. So I won't do that. But I will also tell you this right now: Nathan is a grade A asshole. You couldn't change it before, and I don't see a chance in hell of you ever being able to change that. He's a womanizer and he's a liar, and he treats even his best friend like she's an object for him to use, to play with. I'm sorry if this isn't what you want to hear, but from where I'm standing, it's the truth."

I mull over her words quietly, ignoring her as she waits for my response. "I know these things. I know that nothing with Nathan will ever turn out the way I'd let myself hope it would, and I know that he'll never want me the same way I wanted him. Believe me, no one understands that better than I do. It's just that, even knowing he'll never feel the same, and he'll never be what I want him to be, there is this part of me that does still think of him as my best friend. I think that is the part of me that rebels against wanting to see him hurt."

She walks around the counter and puts an arm around me. "I'm sorry that you've been so hurt by him. All I want is to make sure he doesn't get the chance to do that again. You understand that, right? Where I'm coming from, I mean?"

"I'd do the same for you," I smile, hugging her back. "So I do understand, even if I do think you're being too hard on Nathan in general. He's not so bad, he's just…a little messed up, I guess."

She shrugs. "Well, are we going out or are we going out?" she chirps, changing to a much more pleasant subject.

"Yeah, we can go out," I smile, sort of relieved to have a chance to get out of the house for awhile. Aside from class, I've been spending all my time here for the most part. I haven't even gone to the grocery store for fear of seeing Nathan.

It's a ridiculous and unfounded fear. I have no logical reason to feel these nerves, this sense of apprehension at facing him. The day where I do will come, and most likely sooner than later. I run through scenarios in my mind – what he'd say to me, what I should say to him in response. None of it is flattering, most of it is angry, and I would probably regret all of them later.

I neither want nor need anymore regrets where Nathan is concerned. Perhaps that is where at least some of the apprehension comes in. Fear of making things worse. It is not something that should concern me, as it shouldn't matter whether things get even more difficult between us since we'll never go back to how we were.

Brooke leaves to run some errands and to pick up some alcohol so that we can do a little pre-funking before hitting the bars tonight. It sounds good to me – I know I'm going to need something to help me relax, and while I know alcohol isn't the best thing for that, I'm not too worried about it for the time being. If I have to use it as an icebreaker to make it through classes, then that's a problem. But this isn't so bad.

It's good, though, that we'll be getting out of here tonight. Maybe I'll even manage to have some fun. If Brooke is correct and Nathan isn't in the shape to be going out, then maybe I'll even be able to put him out of my mind and not be nervous that we'll run into him, which would be horrible. I can just see Brooke going after him.

It doesn't matter, though. It won't be hard to ignore him if he shows up, and in fact, I'd take great pleasure in doing just that. Nothing pisses off Nathan Scott more than being ignored, and I know for a fact he will probably be desperate to talk to me. In effect, it would be the best revenge I could get on him.

But it is irrelevant, because if Brooke is right, he's too shame-faced to go anywhere these days. Which is good, and serves him right. After what he's done, I don't feel much pity for the state of his social life. If it sucks, that's his own problem, and it has nothing to do with me. He made his bed.

"Hurry up, Brooke!" I giggle, already warmed from the alcohol I've been consuming, "I'm ready to go!"

"You're pushy when you're drunk," she smirks, "I think I might like this side of you." I roll my eyes at her in the mirror. "Usually its me pushing you to hurry so we can go out, I can't complain about the tables being turned, you know?"

"Well, you shouldn't, anyway," I reason. I twirl in a little circle, nearly falling on my face when I trip over one of Brooke's shoes.

"Good going, dork," she snickers, "Are you even going to make it through the night? You're pretty well toasted already. If you puke, I'll kill you."

"Oh, I will so not puke," I mutter, glaring at her, "I haven't even had close to that much yet!"

"Then why are you so giggly and happy already?" she mutters, "Because you're chirping like a hyper bird on crack."

"You over-exaggerate," I laugh, "I'm just excited to be getting out of this place, even if it is only for the night. Besides, school is almost out for the summer, and I've got a great internship to look forward to, and then voila! Med school!"

"You get excited about weird things," she points out, twisting her hair up into a twirly bun I'm immediately jealous that I didn't think to do with my hair.

"Brookie?" I pout, trying not to laugh when she rolls her eyes, "Do my hair all cute and up like yours?"

I'd already curled my hair, and it looked cute if not a little young. "Sure, I'd be happy to," she grins as we trade places so that I'm sitting in front of her, "I thought you were going to ask something hard or something."

"Like what?" I laugh, unable to get far enough into her crazy mind to figure out what she would possibly be thinking.

"I don't even know," she admits with a shrug, "But I'm sure it would've been something terribly irritating or something."

"Gee, thanks," I reply in a dry manner, "You can't hear that you're irritating often enough, now can you?"

"Hey, I hear it way more than you!" she protests.

"Well, that's because you are intentionally irritating to certain people." She nods in agreement. "So, don't get all 'poor me' on me now."

"Oh, fine," she smiles, "As if I'm ever that bad!"

"No, you're not," I agree. And it's true, Brooke is a whole lot of things, but a whiner isn't one of them. And even if she was, she's a damn good friend, and I doubt I'd condemn her for it.

"Alright, let's go!" she grins, jumping up from her chair, her breasts practically spilling over the top of her tube top.

"Brooke," I groan, gesturing, "Are they going to do that all night? I really don't want to be stuck on decency patrol tonight! I want to have fun!"

"Want to bet whose top falls down first?" she smirks, "Because yours isn't holding up all that much better than mine."

I glance down, seeing she's right. "Oh, God, I'll got get the double stick tape."

"None for me, thanks," she winks, and I roll my eyes at her. "Hey, Mr. Football Stud might be there tonight, and I need to impress upon him how worth skipping class I am."

"Are you still mad at him for that?" I ask, incredulous.

"Why shouldn't I be?" she gripes as she grabs her purse. I add the tape to my ensemble, making sure none of it is noticeable, rolling my eyes at her. "I can't believe you're using that tape," she sighs, before re-launching into her ranting, "Anyway, he might not have thought I was worth a nooner with if it meant missing his class last week, but he won't have any doubt in his mind which is the better option after tonight."

"Oh, my God, you're hopeless," I mutter, checking my purse for my keys, phone and pepper spray. All the better to run into Nathan with. Ahem. Not that I'd do that. Right.

By the time we get to the house that the party is at, things look like they're pretty much out of control. People have spilled out onto the lawn, and the music is loud enough to hear down two blocks away. There are several kegs on the front porch, and plenty of people walking around with their own personal fifths of liquor swinging wildly. I practically feel hungover just looking at them, and I make a mental note to go easy tonight.

"Where are we going if they bust this up?" Brooke asks, already making plans so that her party won't stop all night.

"I don't care," I shrug, "Anywhere you want."

"Will you kill me if I say the basketball house?" I give her a look. "I'm sorry, it's just I ran into Mark yesterday in class – probably the first day all quarter we've both been in there since syllabus day – and he told me they're having a thing tonight, too. Not like this, but medium sized. He won't be there, you know he won't."

"Brooke," I begin, not wanting to deal with people who know both Nathan and me. Sighing, I decide to give in and go on the hope that this party doesn't get shut down. "Fine, whatever," I agree.

"Great!" she squeals, "It'll be fine if we go there, I promise!"

I nod, and drop the subject as we walk into the party. It is so crowded that I can't even get far enough away from anyone to even know if I recognize them or not. Of course, I don't know all that many people who hang out with the football team, anyway, and I'm such a dorky bookworm most of the time that I'm studying when everyone else is partying. Brooke would probably disagree with that, as she has dragged me out at least one night each weekend for about the past two years, but still.

Brooke still has a hold on my wrist as she drags me through the sweaty hordes of people towards the mercifully cooler area of the kitchen. It is off-limits, but Brooke being Brooke, has connections, and we are immediately let in. There are a few guys and some girls that actually look like they might be down to earth enough to like, so I relax a little and make small talk when Brooke introduces me.

I'm actually having fun, and don't object when the rest of the people I've met, along with Brooke, want to move out to the dance floor. I take another shot, and follow them out the door. Its fun, dancing in the dark of the living room, even though it is crowded and hot, and I don't even object when one of the guys I just met pulls me to him. I just laugh, and go with the flow, something I'm not usually so good at.

But it feels good to let loose tonight, break free of the bonds I've put on myself. It helps me forget things, and that's nice for a change. Brooke dances to me, and throws an arm around my shoulder, and dances with me and the guy I was dancing with. We're all laughing and smiling and singing along with the music, and it is a genuinely fun time for me.

When it gets too overwhelmingly stuffy, I make my way back to the back porch, and take a seat on the edge, letting my feet dangle into the grass below. There are a ton of couples out here, all in various degrees of making out, and usually I think I'd feel uncomfortable both being alone and just watching them. It seems irrelevant tonight, possibly due to my newfound ability to throw caution to the wind and engage in sex in public.

Funny how an event like that can color your perspective so drastically.

It has, though. I feel like everything has changed, all due to one night of sex – mind-blowing sex – with Nathan. It's odd; everyone says or assumes that your first time will change you, change things. Not so, at least for me. I didn't feel different after, I didn't feel like the world had changed. Not even my outlook changed.

My night with Nathan changed everything – me, my perspective, the way I feel, the way I act. I suppose that this constitutes giving it too much power, but I can't stop feeling this way, like everything is fundamentally different. I feel fundamentally different.

And I don't want to. I don't want him to have this much power over me still, even after the way he just dumped me in my bed and left the next morning. He doesn't deserve anything from me, not after the way he acted, not after the way he got me into his bed even though he clearly didn't want me there.

No one has ever had the power to make me feel as bad as Nathan does, and that's my fault not his. I've given him this incredible power to hurt me, and he's used it. Maybe the fault really lies with me, then. I just don't know anymore.

And maybe it is time to stop caring. Maybe Brooke is right, and I shouldn't worry about what happens to Nathan. I'm dealing with the consequences of my actions, and he should have to deal with the consequences of his. And anyway, it isn't my place to worry about him or what happens to him now. He made that clear.

"Cops are out front," Brooke casually announces as she wanders onto the deck, snickering as the clearly under-aged people go scattering. "So, we still going over to the basketball house?" she asks.

I shrug, getting to my feet. "If you want to, I won't deny you that pleasure," I reply, still not thrilled about the idea, but she's right – he probably won't be there.

"Yeah?" I nod. "Look, I know I said something along the lines of 'I won't take no for an answer', but I totally would."

I nod again. "I know that. And maybe that's part of the reason I'm willing to go there with you. For you." She laughs, linking her arm with mine. "Okay," I say, releasing a shaky breath, "Let's go before I change my mind."

It's a short walk, and we're both quiet on the way there. Brooke keeps looking at me in concern, but she doesn't annoy me by asking a thousand times if I'm alright. As we're walking up the path, she does squeeze my hand, though, and I grin at her, letting her know that no matter what, I'll be fine. Tonight, tomorrow, always.

The door swings open before we even knock, and we are greeted by Markus, who seems to always be on door duty. He gives both of us huge hugs, keeping his arm around me as he begins talking a mile a minute to us.

"Haley Bo Baley," he grins, bringing me back to the conversation. I'd been looking around inside, trying to make sure that Nathan wasn't there and that I wouldn't have to deal with him tonight. "What brings you out tonight? Couldn't resist coming over and trying to get with me one last time before graduation?" he teases with a wink at Brooke.

"Why would she do that when I've already told how not worth it those scant two minutes are?" Brooke retorts smugly.

He bites back a smile, nudging me. "Lack of interest in partner is what that amounts to," he whispers just loud enough for her to hear him. I can't help but laugh at the two of them, shrugging out from under his heavy arm and making my way into the house.

"Have fun," I call to them over my shoulder. They both half nod at me, paying way more attention to each other than me. I imagine I'll be going home alone tonight, and that I'll be picking Brooke up sometime tomorrow.

There are plenty of people here, and I have to step carefully not to stomp on any hands of the people sitting on the ground in circles playing card games. But it isn't crowded like the last hell we were in, and being keenly aware of the fact that there is no Nathan here, I relax immediately.

Jake, the guy behind the bar, is a senior I've known practically since my first minute of college. He was Nathan's roommate in the dorms, and he's just an all-around nice guy. We've hung out with him a lot over the years, and he's also pre-med, so he and I have a lot in common and have always got along well. He smiles when he sees me approaching.

"Hey, Jake, how's it going? I haven't seen you in forever," I comment, smiling when he hands me an ice water. "You're a lifesaver," I remark after taking a sip.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," he grins, "I've been busy trying to ensure I graduate with honors. Since I'm not going to get drafted, I figured I better make sure I get the best med school possible."

"Good for you," I smile, a little sorry for him. He's not like Nathan and Markus and some of the other guys who always seemed to just play basketball with a natural ease and effortless talent that most would envy; he always had to work hard and fight for every position he got on a team. "Which schools are you looking at?"

"It was hard to realize the NBA wasn't for me," he admits as I step around the bar to get out of the way, "But I've gotten used to the idea, and I think I'll make a good doctor eventually. I've been accepted at Penn, Duke, and UNC. Haven't decided yet. I'm one of those procrastinators."

"I think you will make an excellent doctor," I agree, taking another sip of my water.

"What about you? Which lucky med school gets the talented Ms. Haley?"

I nod. "Ugh, I'm going to Duke," I sigh, only half sorry about it. I can live in Tree Hill, this way, and save on rent. He smiles knowingly. "I've wanted to be a doctor since I was six and Nathan's mom gave me one of those toy doctor's bags for my birthday, and I'm not going to let the fact that I don't to live with my parents again stop me."

"Good for you. Speak of the devil, where is Scott tonight?" He shakes his head. "Ever since that stuff went down last week with Susie and Javey and the fight and jail, he's been making himself scarce. What the hell happened to set him off?"

Jail? I'd love to ask about that, but at the same time, I don't want to give him more of a reason to ask questions of me. So, I shrug, definitely not wanting to go into anything. "I don't really know. I'm staying with Brooke now."

"What?" he asks sharply, and I want to smack myself for telling him of all people. He knows how close Nathan and I were, and he knows that it would take something drastic for one of us to leave the other.

"I – it's nothing, Jake. I don't want to talk about it, anyway." He looks at me sharply, possibly understanding too well. He is one of the few people here who have figured out that I felt more for Nathan than I cared for him to know, so of course he is equally aware of how one-sided it is. Oddly enough, he is the only one who has ever tried to make me think it isn't as one-sided as I know it is.

"Bullshit, what'd he do this time?" he asks shrewdly, "I mean, you don't blame him for that stupid prank that Javey pulled, do you?"

I shake my head, sighing. "Look, it has nothing to do with that. I mean, that is completely between them and Susie. I don't even know any of the story behind it, okay?" I ask, my voice coming out sharper than I'd meant for it to.

"Hey, sorry," he sighs, putting his hands up in surrender, "I won't push, but you can't tell me that it's nothing. Nathan is in a fouler mood than I've ever seen, and he's close to blowing everything, Haley. Rumor has it he's blowing off getting an agent, having to deal with court bullshit isn't going to make him more desirable to any teams that might be scouting him."

How have I not heard of any of this? "Jake, I really don't know. I didn't even know he was in trouble with the courts, okay?" I admit.

He blinks in surprise. "You didn't know that? How long have you been gone?"

I shrug. "I left last Sunday. Haven't even gone back for the rest of my stuff yet," wincing at his look of shock, "It's complicated, Jake, let it go, okay?"

He shakes his head. "You know I'm not going to do," he responds with a wry smile, grabbing my glass and guiding me toward the stairs. He signals for someone to take over the bar, and he marches me up the stairs. We go into the game room, which is empty, and take seats on the chairs in there. "What the hell happened? And don't give me nothing, or tell me it isn't a big deal, because I know you both, and I know that whatever it was, it is a big deal."

I let myself sink back into the cushions of the big, overstuffed recliner I'm sitting on, rubbing my hands over my face. "It was awful," I admit, "I – we just let things go too far one night, and it was all too clear in the morning what a mistake that was, and I left. I couldn't take it, I couldn't stay there knowing how little he wanted me."

"Oh, Haley," he sighs, looking sorry for me, "You just up and left? Without talking to him about it first?"

"He left first!" I cry, "I woke up that morning, back in my own bed when we'd been in his! He moved me out of his bed, and then he left! What was I supposed to do, to think?"

"Hey, I'm not accusing you of anything," he protests, "I'm just trying to figure out what the hell is going on." I nod, fighting the tears threatening to fall again. "How'd it happen?"

"How'd we end up sleeping together?" I ask bitingly, "Oh, this is great. He took me down to the beach, a spot where you had to the hop the fence to get to. And I hate fences, but I did it anyway, for him, that's how stupid I am. We just talked about things that I'm probably the only one he can talk about with, and I don't know, what started out as comfort led to something more."

He smiles sadly. "I'm sorry, Haley. I always figured that when you two finally got together that it'd be a good thing, and that you'd both be really happy."

I sniffle, looking away from him. The pity is too much to take right now. "I just – I kept my space from him for so long so something like this wouldn't happened, but it did anyway. And I knew he didn't feel the same way, but why was I so repulsive to him he had to move me out of his bed?" I cry, trying not to breakdown into full out sobbing.

He moves over to me, sitting on the arm of my chair, and awkwardly leans down and wraps his arms around me. "I'm sorry, Haley, I shouldn't have made you talk about this." I nod, and he pulls me closer. "He's crazy, you know. To not want you."

"I'm the crazy one," I retort, "To ever have let my guard down around him, to ever think that maybe – just maybe – he felt even a sliver of what I did. I'm so dumb!"

"No, you aren't. I thought he felt the same way," he sighs, "I really thought I saw something, some change when he was with you, around you, even talking about you."

"Then you're dumb, too," I manage to joke, sliding over so he can sit down next to me on the chair. I throw my legs over his lap when he's situated.

"At least I'm in good company," he agrees with a smile.

"I'm glad someone thinks so," I laugh, brushing away the last of my tears. "What happened to Nathan? You mentioned jail?" I ask incredulously.

"He got drunk and belligerent last Sunday, and ended up trespassing and kicking the shit out of the property owner. Rumor has it that his lawyer is negotiating to get the guy to drop the charges. No one really knows much," he admits.

I shake my head, pretty stunned that Nathan would get into a drunken brawl and get his ass hauled off to jail. "What was he thinking?"

Jake shrugs. "Probably not much. I wasn't here Sunday, but the guys said he was in pretty bad shape. Drank an entire fifth of whiskey, never talked to anyone but Mark, and would've fought Javey if the guys hadn't stopped, said some serious shit to Mark before stumbling out of here."

"Wow," I breathe, "I can't believe he got into a fight. I mean, Nathan is a lot of things, but he's never been a fighter. Not since he and – well, he hasn't fought with anyone in a long time."

"Yeah, well, I hear he worked that guy over pretty good. I also heard he looks just as bad, so who knows?"

"I – well, I hope he figures out a way to get out of that," I mutter, not wanting to feel any sympathy or ponder his motives in this matter, "Sounds like he's dug himself a big hole."

He sighs, sensing my withdrawal. "Well, I guess we'll see what happens. It's in all the papers, a lot of people are talking about it. I can't believe you missed it."

I shrug. "Frankly, after what happened Sunday morning, I had no desire to know what was going on anywhere. I guess it's odd I didn't hear anything about it in class, though. Why Brooke didn't tell me, though," I trail off, sighing.

"Nah, the dorks in our classes have all our nerdy science things to talk about. They aren't interested in which basketball player is getting in trouble this week," he jokes.

"Watch it! You might be a dorky science guy, I'm not a science dork, thank you!," I laugh, elbowing him. "Thanks for telling me all of that. And thanks for letting me cry," I add, "Brooke's great, but I think her perspective is a little off when it comes to me and Nathan."

He snorts, "A little? I've never seen someone hate someone so much for so little reason. Seriously, what did he ever do to her?"

I shrug. "Nothing that I know of, she's just protective of me."

"Okay, that's weird," he points out, "Maybe she's in love with you."

"Oh, Jake," I laugh, "As if. She's more in love with herself, bless her, than she'd ever be with anyone else, let alone me. She's just a good friend."

"Then I'm glad you have her. And I'm glad she likes boys, because she's so hot it'd be a shame to lose her," he grins, "But keep in mind that when it comes to Nathan, she has a huge bias, and she's probably not the best person to talk things out with. I'm just saying."

I nod. "I know that. It doesn't matter, though, because she was right, wasn't she? I mean, she said he was a worthless jerk, and she wasn't too far off."

"I don't know about that. Come on, Haley, you know Nathan. He can be of questionable morality, but has he ever done anything to hurt you? To hurt anyone he really cares about?"

"That's beside the point now," I counter, not giving him the answer we both know is the truth. "I just – I can't trust him anymore, and so even if he didn't do it intentionally, it's there. It is out there, and I can't see past it."

"Okay," he agrees, groaning as he pulls his big body out of the chair, "Let's go rejoin the party."

"I better stop in the bathroom and make sure I don't have raccoon eyes," I laugh, knowing I must look pretty gross after all the sweating and crying I've done tonight.

"Good idea," he winks.

"Hey, you're supposed to be a gentleman and say I look great, no matter what. What kind of friend are you?" I joke, feigning shock.

"The honest kind that won't lie to you, even to appease your vanity?" he guesses.

"Oh, aren't you just too good to be true," I roll my eyes as he hoists himself out of the chair, "A real prince among men."

He grins at me as he lets go of my hands. "Don't you forget it, little lady."

"Oh, I take back every good thought of you I've ever had," I intone dramatically, crinkling my nose in distaste, "I can't believe you called me 'little lady'!"

"It's a label of endearment," he says goofily, "And what's this about you having thoughts of me? Sexy thoughts, by any chance?"

"Oh, Jake, how highly we think of ourselves, hmm?"

"Hey, I know I'm a stud," he grins, looking proud of himself, "Plenty of little hotties want me. Plenty of the not-so-hot ones, too."

"I don't doubt it for a second," I smile, patting him on the arm. "Bathroom," I point, and go in. He was right: I do look frightening. There are tiny streaks and pools of mascara under both eyes, and my cheeks are flushed.

I wash my face and reapply mascara and a little lip gloss. Since the double sided tape is bothering me, I remove it from my shirt and then step back out, surprised to find Jake waiting for me. "Hey, you could've gone on without me," I tell him.

"Now, why would I do that? You're clearly the most interesting person here to talk to, and since I haven't seen or talked to you in a really long time, now seems like a good time to catch up. Unless you have more important people to hang out with?"

"Who could be more important than you?" I grin, linking arms with him as we head for the stairs. It has grown a little busier up here as couples are stumbling around in and out of doors looking for available rooms. Jake and I roll our eyes at each other. "Gross," I laugh.

"Gross with those boys, yummy with me," he winks, and I smack him on the arm, exasperated. "What, come on, the jokes are fun," he protests.

"The jokes are fun, but somehow I doubt you're joking here as you build up your sense of self," I tease.

"What sense of self?" he asks, "I have no sense of anything. I'm completely senseless in every way."

"Now that I'd like to see," I laugh. We walk into the kitchen where Brooke is sitting next to Mark with a bunch of other people crowded around the table playing some game. She climbs over onto Mark's lap when she sees us, and waves us into her vacated chair.

"You two can share that chair, and then join our little game," she announces loudly, giggling as Mark's hand creeps under her shirt. Nope, definitely not coming home tonight.

"Thanks, Davis," Jake says cheerfully as he playfully pulls me onto his lap, "Your permission to do anything is all I needed to be happy in this world."

"Happy to oblige you," she grins, clearly drunk past the point of having an ability to recognize sarcasm.

"You're drunk," I comment loudly to her, scowling at Mark as his hand slides higher and higher. He just grins at me.

"I know! Everyone should be drunk! It's Saturday, Hales!"

"Now she's a calendar," Jake jokes, loosely wrapping his arms around my waste, "Brooke, you just get more flexible every time I see you."

"Thanks, I've been practicing. It's hard to be as limber as I am. But I have found that it makes the sex more enjoyable if I can be more flexible for certain – "

"Woah, there Tiger," Mark jumps in as the rest of the table laughs, "There are a few things that not everybody needs to know about, okay?"

"Oh, don't worry, even if they want me, I'll still go home with you tonight," she assures with a pat on the cheek. I try and stifle my laughter, and I can feel Jake doing the same.

"Well, this is educational," Jake intones. "Anyway, what are we playing?" he asks when things around the table quiet down.

"Strip Go Fish!" one of the girls sitting across from us shouts out enthusiastically, and now that I've noticed her, I see that she has indeed already lost her shirt in the game. Or so I assume it is gone because of the game.

"Strip Go Fish?" Jake echoes dubiously, "I mean, out of all the games in the world, this is what a group of somewhat intelligent college students come up with?"

I elbow him, trying to shush him. I, for one, think this will be at least somewhat amusing, if not completely hilarious. Especially since I'm pretty much sober now.

"Just go with the flow, Jakie," I encourage, groaning when he bounces me, "Stop, I'll be sick! And you do not want me to be sick!"

"Both of you shut up!" Brooke orders gleefully, clearly in charge of this little gathering. The other girls at the table are looking her like she's a queen, so they are clearly freshmen. Everyone obeys her, including Jake and I, and the table quiets down. "Okay, so, I'll go first because….well, because I said so!"

The game starts, and we actually do play Go Fish, which is about the most bizarre thing I've done since being in college. It is fun, though, and Jake and I end up winning every hand – probably because we've had the least to drink – and end up not needing to take any of our clothes off.

Just as things are finally winding down, everyone falls silent, except Brooke, who is trying to talk Markus into removing his boxers instead of his shirt. It takes me a second to divert my focus from their little escapades, and when I do, I'm immediately sorry. For some awful reason, Nathan has apparently decided tonight was the night for him to come out of hiding.

I tense on Jake's lap, moving to get up and run away, but his steadying arms around my waist stop me. "Don't let him drive you out of here," he whispers in my ear.

"Why's everyone so quiet all of a sudden?" Brooke yells out, looking around, "Hello, somebody tell Mark – you!" She practically starts hissing when she sees Nathan, but he doesn't even take his eyes off of me long enough to acknowledge her. "What in the name of Michael Jordan do you think you're doing here, you sorry piece of shit?" she barks out at him, fighting to get away from Mark who has her tight around the waist.

"Brooke, stop it," I whisper at her, glad to focus my attention on her instead of him. She gives no indication of having heard me, though, and continues yelling at him.

"What, now you're too good to even answer? How dare you? How fucking dare you?" she screams as I jump off of Jake to help Mark calm Brooke down.

Everyone else in the room is staring at Brooke and Nathan like they're on fire as Jake heads over to Nathan, and I can quietly hear him asking him to leave.

I don't do anything, just stare at the wall behind Brooke and wish that the floor would swallow me up. I hear Nathan protesting that he just needs to talk to me, that if I'll talk to him for a few minutes, he'll leave and won't cause anymore of a scene. Jake manages to convince him to leave, something I am forever grateful for. I just don't have the energy to face him right now, not all tired and drained and recently crying like this.

Things settle down quickly after that, and aside from a few prying glances, no one makes a big deal out of it and no one asks any questions. The little side party we had disperses pretty quickly after that, leaving just Brooke, Jake and Markus in here with me.

"Well, that was interesting," Markus comments, eyebrows raised, "What the hell happened with you and Nathan?"

"Brooke can fill you in later," I sigh, "I do not feel like talking about him anymore tonight. Are you all clear? No more talking about him. I don't want to hear anyone say the N-name to me again tonight."

They all nod in agreement. We all sort of just stand around and stare at each other for awhile, until Brooke drags me over to a corner of the kitchen. "I'm going back to Markus's place tonight. You don't care, do you?" she slurs, her eyes looking glazed over. "And you're okay, right?"

"I'm fine, Brooke. And no, of course not, do your thing. Nathan has already been here and said his piece, so there won't be anymore trouble on that front," I tell her, "You're okay to go, right? You look dangerously close to passing out."

"Ha-ley," she sings out, patting me on top of my head before asking in her best 'duh' voice, "Have you seen Mark? He's like, only the hottest thing ever! Of course I'm okay to go! I need to practice my fleb – felx - ?"

God. "Flexibility?" I prompt, laughing when she beams at me.

"Yes, that!"

She takes off with Mark, leaving me here alone with Jake. Feeling desperate to prove – to whom, I don't know – that seeing Nathan doesn't affect me, I grab Jake and pull him to me for a kiss. I fist my hands in his hair as I step close to him, rubbing against him and trying to will my body to react in that breathless, tight way it does when Nathan is around.

His body stiffens against me at first, and I can feel him fighting with himself before he finally sets me away from him. "Haley," he groans, running a hand over his face, "Come on, don't do this to me."

"Do what, Jake?" I step close to him again, winding my arms around his neck. "Don't kiss you, like this?" I plant a small kiss on the corner of his mouth before tracing the edges of his lips with my tongue. "Don't touch you, like this?" I let my hand slide down his back, dragging my nails over him, landing on his butt, which I squeeze. He moans as I pull him closer to me. "Don't press against you, like this?" I move even closer to him, rubbing my breasts against his chest, not caring that my shirt is falling down.

"Those are all things you shouldn't do," he agrees, swallowing hard, and I can see that I'm affecting him. Just like I wanted. "We can't do this, Haley. You don't even really want this, we both know that. And I – I'm not willing to be a one night substitute for Nathan Scott, okay?"

I nod, tears forming in my eyes. "I'm so sorry," I whisper, ashamed at the game I was playing, knowing how foolish it was. "I didn't – I shouldn't have tried to use you like this, I'm so, so sorry, Jake."

"I know you are," he sighs, stepping away from. "Um, your shirts, uh, down," he blushes, averting his eyes. Sighing I pull it back up, covering myself. "Its okay, Haley," he says as I continue to cry, "We didn't do anything. No harm, no foul."

I nod, sniffling. "Look at me, trying to mess up another friendship with sex. Because I have such a good track record with this so far," I mutter sarcastically, "I don't know what I was thinking."

"You were thinking that this would be a really good way to piss Nathan off, get him back," he says gently, no anger evident in his voice. I start to protest, but he stops me. "It is okay that you'd want to do that, Haley. It's human nature, you know?"

"Doesn't make it okay. Oh, Jake, you have no idea how sorry I am," I sigh. "I mean it, I wasn't thinking beyond the fact that you're nice, and hot, and sexy. I'm sorry."

"Haley, its okay," he laughs, "Don't worry about it. I won't. Okay, I'm going to go grab you a sweatshirt, and then take you home."

He jogs off, probably thrilled to get away from me and stupid antics. I cannot believe I thought that trying to seduce was a good idea. Hell, I don't think I was even thinking, really. I just wanted to forget Nathan, and even though I tried to put all my thoughts and energies towards Jake, I was still thinking of Nathan in the back of mind. Is that ever going to go away?

Jake reappears at my side with a sweatshirt and another offer of a ride home. I turn him down, though, thinking that the walk will do me good.

"Come on, let me drive you. Who knows what kind of creeps are out at this time of the night?" he cajoles. "Actually, I think we know exactly what kind of creeps are out now," he reminds me pointedly.

I shake my head. "I'll be fine. There are only main roads to Brooke's, and you can't go out on them at this time of night without seeing a cop or two every single block. Don't worry, the fresh air sounds really nice right about now."

We argue for a few minutes before he capitulates. He does extract the promise that I'll call him immediately upon arrival at Brooke's place, and that if he doesn't hear from me in twenty minutes, he'll get in his truck and drive around looking for me. I laugh, agreeing, and leave, breathing deeply of the slightly chilly air. Despite his insistences it wouldn't be, it was still uncomfortable to stand there and banter with him after throwing myself at him.

It feels good to be out here, despite the goose bumps. And it is even nicer to have a few minutes on my own. Sure, everyone is great to me, especially Brooke, but she's been really hovering this last week, and I didn't realize how cloying that is until now. It isn't hard to remind myself that she really does have my interests at heart, though.

It's late enough that there really aren't a whole lot of people out, just a couple stragglers here and there, most of them in small groups or pairs. Like I reminded Jake, there are police officers driving by on a near constant patrol, so I feel safe despite the lack of people around.

"Haley?" a quiet voice to my right asks. I know that it is him immediately. I don't respond, just keep walking. "Hales, come on," he pleads, "One minute. Just give me one little minute to apologize."

"There is nothing that you can say to me that I want to hear, Nathan," I tell him stubbornly without turning to face him, "Let's just leave it at that, okay?"

The approaching footsteps let me know that he isn't listening, isn't giving in like I expected he would, despite the fact that I'm practically jogging I'm walking so fast.

"What part of 'I don't want to talk to you today, tomorrow, or ever again' don't you understand?" I bite out, fighting not to look at him. I'm not worried that I'll cave when I see him; I'm worried I'll attack him or something.

"Please," he says in a low, urgent voice that sounds almost broken.

"No!" I exclaim, "I don't want to see you! I don't want to talk to you! I don't want to listen. Don't you get it Nathan? I don't want anything to do with you! Nothing, not even the tiniest thing. I don't even care if I never get my stuff back from that damn apartment if it means a guarantee that I won't see you!"

"You don't know the whole story!" he pleads, "Please, Hales, just one minute, one minute for all the years of friendship we've had. Just one."

"I know enough of the story to know that there isn't anything you can say in one minute that will make me feel differently. Make me forget how you used me, and how you tossed me away when you didn't want me anymore. Nothing."

"Sixteen years," he reminds me, frantic sounding, "Almost seventeen. Come on, how can you just walk away now? How could just leave and not even put a note on the fridge?"

"You do not want to have this conversation with me tonight," I tell him, whirling around to finally face him, "Because I am pissed off, and I am tired, and right now, I don't give a shit what I say to you. And on top of it all, you have no right to bring our alleged friendship into this, and you have no right at all to try and make me feel guilty."

The bruises and cuts from his fight last week are still evident on his face, dark, angry marks that demand attention, but mostly what I see when I look at him now is anger. "Please," he whispers, "Please just listen to me." His voice is so quiet and so broken that I have to strain to hear what he's saying.

"I can't, Nathan. Look, if you ever cared about me, even a little, then just back off and leave me alone. I'm tired and I don't want to see you."

"Please, Hales, you're killing me here! I've been worried sick about you, about what I did, everything, and now you won't even listen to me for a minute? I just want to tell you how sorry I am, how much it hurts me to know what I did to you, to know how I hurt you. Won't you even let me make sure you're okay?"

"Okay? Okay after what you did to me? After how you treated me? What do you want me to say? That everything is fine, that I absolve you from whatever is you're feeling now? Because I won't – nothing is fine, and I can't give you that absolution."

"Can't or won't?"

"Nathan, I don't know what game you're playing, but I'm not playing with you. What happened between us just showed why things needed to change, and I made that change. Now you need to back off and let me live my life in peace, and get your own back together."

He doesn't say anything, just nods slowly, staring at me as I back away from him. He looks downtrodden and just devastated, and the part of me that has protected and loved him for seventeen years wants to run to him and make everything better.

"Haley," he calls out one more time, and as I pause, ready to give him another piece or two of my mind, he says words that nearly break me, "I'm so sorry. You're the last person I ever wanted to hurt. Especially not after what we – "

"I can't, Nathan," I choke out, "Not now, okay?"

He doesn't listen, though, and moves closer to me. I freeze, not knowing what to do. A part of me wants to run, to escape the sorrow and the guilt and the anxiety that being here with him are causing me, but another part wants to stay and see what he does. He reaches a hand out, brushing his fingers over my cheek.

"Nathan," I whisper, involuntarily leaning into his touch, "Don't do this. Please don't do this to me! I just can't deal with this right now."

He pulls his hand away like I burned him. "I just want you to know that I didn't want you to leave. God, I wish you were still there with me. You have no idea how awful it is for me there without you. You're all I've ever had, and now that you're gone, I have nothing. Don't you know that?"

I shake my head him, furious at myself for still being here, furious at him for making me feel things for him I don't want to. "I can't. I really can't. Just let me go to Brooke's place, okay?"

He nods, and I turn my back on him and jog off before he can see the tears that are falling. I run so fast that by the time I'm back to Brooke's house, I'm panting, hard. He finally got it that last time, and didn't try and follow me, so I'm alone when I arrive at the door, taking the key out of its hiding spot.

I call Jake and let him know I made it back here, and that I'm fine, not freaking out about seeing Nathan or what happened between me and him. He extracts a promise that I'll call him if I need anything, and I thank him for being a really good friend. We hang up, and I sit alone in the deafening quiet of the kitchen.

Out of all the looks he had on his face, the image of Nathan that stays with me tonight is his face when he told me he was sorry that last time. I don't think I'll ever forget that look. In all the years I've known him, and through all the bad times he's been through, I've never seen his emotions that raw on his face.

It pains me to see him like that, even if it shouldn't. If the only thing, as Brooke says, that I should feel for him is anger, then I'm failing miserably. Because in all honesty, a part of my heart does go out to him. I can see that he's in a bad place, probably the darkest he's ever been in, and I want to help him. I don't believe he deserves it, and I don't know if I could do it, but I look at him, and I want to make things better for him. To wipe that expression off his face.

It's not that simple, though. If it were, everyone would probably be a lot happier right now, most of all Nathan and me. In some ways, maybe this will be good for us. Maybe I'll learn that I can't fix everything for him, for anyone, and maybe he'll learn how to get his shit together and take care of himself.

I can't be responsible for him, though. There is nothing I can do to fix his actions, and wanting to fix him is probably completely unrealistic, considering I can't even fix myself. It is so quiet in here that I am completely lost in my thoughts when a knock on the door startles me.

I open it cautiously, afraid that Nathan decided to get pushy, and followed me here after all, but it is Luke instead. Someone I might actually care to see even less than Nathan at the moment. I cannot believe that he is here, in the middle of the night, showing up without calling.

"It's 3 in the morning, Luke," I point out by way of greeting.

"Yeah, I figured you'd be home for sure now, so I thought I'd drop by."

"How'd you get the address to this place? She just moved here, even Nathan doesn't know where it is," I mutter quietly, too tired to put up a huge fight and order him out.

"I cheated," he admits, "You left your address book behind. I just figured it out from there."

"So, you're a stalker," I accuse without heat, "Now, tell me what you're doing here so that I can tell you to go home and then I can go to bed. I'm really tired, considering how late it is."

"Aren't you going to ask why I'm in town?" he asks curiously, "Let's face it, I'm not showing up to see you or Nathan very often, and it isn't like I know anyone else here."

I shake my head. "If it has to do with Nathan, I don't want to hear about it Luke. Look, I'm really sorry you came over here and wasted your time, but you should go. I don't feel like very good company right now."

"Shouldn't that be up to me to decide?" he asks as he steps through the door, "I think you'll be just fine. Where can we sit?"

"You're an even bigger ass than your brother," I grumble, "And he's damn close to the top of my list right now."

"We come by it honestly," he points out, his tone bitter and hard as he references Dan, "I guess that's something, huh?"

"Why do I doubt that you're here to discuss your daddy issues with me?" I question, hoping to get him to the point and out of here.

"You used to be nicer," he complains, "Get bitter when you and I broke up?"

"No, got smarter then. Got bitter when you showed up at my door in the wee, small hours of the morning. Why is this such a hard concept for you to grasp?" I wonder.

"Oh, Haley, chill out. Look, I'm on your side. And your scary friend's side. She was really scary, you know," he grins, shaking his head.

"Lucas, get out," I growl.

"Sorry, got sidetracked. Anyway, I don't blame you for being pissed at Nathan. God knows he deserves to be on the world's shit list once in awhile."

"And what do you know, Lucas?" I drawl out, 'You're just a whiny little snot who never accepts responsibility for any of the shit you've done. And why do you care so much about what's happening with Nathan? No one needs your permission or approval on how we feel about him, and I for one don't need you showing up in the middle night to discuss him. This has nothing to do with you, so you need to let it go."

"Look, he and I are trying – "

"Trying to what?" I snap, unable to reconcile within myself this defense of Nathan, "You're trying to repay him for saving your life? You already showed how much regard you had for that by what you did to me afterwards. Come on, you think I'm buying your faux concern now? If Nathan wants to, that's his deal, but I'm not. I see through your lies and fake help and whatever it is else that you have to offer."

"You're still bitter about what happened back in high school, Haley?" He shakes his head. "Time to move on, don't you think?"

"I've moved on, but I haven't forgotten. And when you show up here, ostensibly to help Nathan, it tends to set those warning bells off in my head."

"You don't know everything," he counters, "I bailed his ass out of jail, and I'm trying to help him with his court stuff. And do you know why I'm doing it? So he doesn't have to call Dan. Still think I'm being selfish?"

"Honestly?" He nods. "Probably. I don't know for sure, and it seems like it might be legit, but I know you. And I know the things you've done to hurt Nathan in the past. So why should I think you're here for any reason other than to rub his troubles in his face?"

"I wouldn't wish Dan on anyone," he sighs, adding, "Even Nathan."

"You know, I actually believe that. But it doesn't matter. There's nothing for us to talk about, Lucas. I can't help you, and I certainly can't help Nathan, so why don't you just go? If you need to talk to me again, snoop through my things and get the phone number here instead."

"Don't make me go yet," he sighs, staying put in his chair to my dismay. "Look, I know I haven't given you many reasons to think I'm a great guy, but you know I'm not the scum of the earth."

"Maybe not," I concede, "But that's beside the point because I can't help you. I don't know any details about Nathan's current troubles, I don't know why he's acting the way he is, and I don't know how you're going to get him to stop. I can't help you."

"Look, I know you don't believe me, but I'm here to help him. Nathan, he has this gift, and he's throwing it away. I can't even figure out why, but I know it has something to do with you." I roll my eyes at him. "He hasn't spoken much," he continues, "But occasionally he'll answer when I ask a question. You're the only thing he can talk about. How guilty he feels, how much he wishes he hadn't pushed you. I know you're mad, and like I said before, I don't blame you. But don't shut him out."

"Why shouldn't I?" I ask, "Give me one good reason I shouldn't."

"He loves you, and he needs you. I think you're the only person he truly cares about, ever has, and I know you're the only one whose opinion matters to him," he says softly, even gently. "What he did was shitty, but I don't think he wanted to hurt you. I really don't."

"It doesn't matter, though, does it? The end result was the same either way," I point out, standing up, "Luke, I appreciate that you're trying, but I really need you not to. Please."

He stands up, nodding. He looks frustrated. "Yeah, I get it. You won't help him out, even though he needs you more now than ever. It's crystal clear."

I shake my head at him as we walk to the door. "If I wasn't so tired, I'd throw in your face that you told me you understood how I felt."

"I do," he corrects, "But I still kind of thought you'd come around and try and help him get back on track."

"It's not my place," I remind him as I open the door for him to step through, containing a sigh of relief as he does.

"I disagree, but you know that. So, if you change your mind, you know where we are," he offers, and I nod, waving goodbye to him. He nods, and walks off into the quiet night, leaving a mess of things for me to stew over.

Now I'll never get any sleep tonight.