Winds of Change
Five
"You really don't think he'd want to be my boyfriend?"
"No," the second voice scoffed. "Look at him! Does he look like anybody's boyfriend?"
"What if I told him we would be really good friends who just sleep together?" the first continued. A look crossed her face as if she had just deciphered the cure for cancer, but her friends seemed unimpressed.
"Or you could tattoo 'GIANT WHORE' across your forehead," one snarked, and the others giggled slightly. Haley James approached slowly, and the laughter ceased, a look of reverence passing briefly over the girls' faces. Sure, they were popular cheerleaders, but Haley James was in a category higher than they could ever dream.
"Hey girls. Who are you talking about?" she inquired, hoping her tone was as breezy as she'd intended it to be. As if she hadn't been eavesdropping from a few lockers down. The way she saw it was that if they spoke in public places, it was for public ears. Besides, how else would she have dirt on the lower classes?
"Nathan Scott," was the answer, and Haley rolled her eyes irritably. Of course it was him. He was all anybody was talking about lately, quickly snatching the Big Man on Campus position away from Marc Lansquenet, who was most certainly not happy about it. It seemed like a natural transition to the students of Tree Hill High, but Haley was miffed. Not to mention, Marc was her only company in that category, it seemed. Even Brooke, regular fuck buddy of the football captain, wasn't annoyed by it. She usually enjoyed the status of her conquests, subconsciously noting that the higher the status, the more power she was exerting. A few months ago, it was common knowledge that Brooke Davis could have anyone in the school if she really wanted them. But now there was a new top dog, and Brooke seemed unaffected.
"It's a basketball town anyway, Hales," she'd shrugged.
Normally, a more dramatic reaction could be drawn by Brooke from telling her that you switched your French manicure from pink to white. She would cease whatever she was doing at the time, pause and analyze it thoroughly. Then, she would breeze forward, as if she had never stopped at all. It was just her way. It always had been, ever since the tender age of five when Brooke and Haley had initially bonded over being the cutest girls in their kindergarten class. The blonde had a hard time adjusting now, when Brooke seemed so different. She was subdued in a way that she had never seen from the perky brunette, and it scared her.
Internally, she shook herself, knowing that she was spacing and they were all waiting for a response from her.
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
"We asked what you think of Nathan, Hales," Becky, the most gutsy of the girls, pressed on. Glaring at the use of her nickname by people who most certainly weren't worthy of it in her eyes, she opened her mouth to respond when the boy himself seemed to materialize out of nowhere. She was beginning to wonder how the hell he did that.
"What do you think of Nathan, Hales?" he teased, cerulean blue eyes sparkling with mirth. Glancing from the corner of her eyes, she could've sworn she saw drool forming at the edge of a girl's mouth. Swallowing her disgust was difficult. Although he did look pretty drool-worthy today, his navy blue shirt unbuttoned, white beater in full view, displaying his abs deliciously. His dark jeans hung low on his hips, the band of his boxers peaking out enticingly.
"Excuse us," he smiled charmingly at the other girls, winking at the one who had been plotting to seduce him as if he'd known all along. His hand was laced loosely with hers now, tugging her after him. Haley looked down at their joined fingers in disbelief. How was it even possible for hands to fit together that perfectly? And why was he touching her again? Waiting for her inner bitch to kick in and muster up some indignation was taking longer than usual. It was way too early to deal with people.
With each step they took, Haley could feel the eyes boring into her back. She could almost sense the rumors starting; feel them build around them as they walked casually through the hallway. It was like an out of body experience, watching herself walk down the school's main corridor with it's newest It Boy. In fact, it wasn't until she found herself shoved unceremoniously into a janitor's closet that she finally began to see through her own eyes again, hearing the scandalized gasps from the outside world.
"I am so not making out with you," she protested feebly, unable to see him, but knowing that Nathan Scott was somewhere very very close to her at the moment. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, mingling with her own, and raising the temperature in the confined space. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the darkness, as she saw him begin to move closer. His fingers latched through her belt loops, brushing lightly over her thighs, as his handsome face leaned down. Most definitely invading her personal space, but she couldn't seem to find her voice. Haley could feel his breath against the sensitive skin of her lips, catching a whiff of his scent, knowing full well that she'd recognize it anywhere from now on. Her honey eyes drifted slowly downward, her pale pink lips parting, betraying her mind's wishes. She waited for him. He never came.
Her eyes flew open to meet his.
"Aww, you won't? But Haaaaaley Bop, I thought you liked me," he whined. His full lips pouted, but his eyes laughed.
"Why ever would you think that?" she smiled coyly. Mentally smacking herself in the forehead, she wondered what the hell she was doing. She had a boyfriend named Chris, and she was in a janitor's closet flirting with a guy named Nathan. A really hot guy named Nathan, who smelled really good, who looked really good….
Who still hadn't removed his hands from her waist.
"That's what all the cool kids are saying," he nodded solemnly, his lips quirking up into an amused grin. It was different than his cocky smirk, but just as irresistible. "So I was wondering if you were going to slip a note into my locker. You know, 'Do You Like Me?', check yes or no. But you didn't, so I was worried I'd have to get my friend to ask his friend to ask his cousin to ask his mom to ask her best friend to ask her daughter to ask her best friend to ask her sister to ask you if you wanted to be my girlfriend."
"You're an asshole," she chuckled. "And for the record, I'll tell her to tell her sister to tell her friend to tell her friend to tell her mom to tell her cousin that I already have a boyfriend."
"I think you left a few people out. You're really hurting their feelings, Beautiful."
"I'm sure they'll get over it. Now, is there a reason you're wasting my time here, or did you just want to stir up some rumors?"
"Like they aren't already talking about me," he said cockily, and she bit her tongue in mild annoyance. There was no retort. She knew it was true.
"You really shouldn't go around holding girls' hands. It looks like you're into them, and decreases your market value. You wouldn't want that, now would you, Mr. Varsity?"
"Young grasshopper, so much to learn. You really think that's a turn off? Girls always chase after things they can't have," he leaned back, holding his arms behind his head. His biceps bulged slightly at the movement, and she fought to tear her eyes away from them. She had no idea how she was so intrigued by someone she found so irritating.
"You're ridiculous. Girls do not want guys just because they can't have them," she protested, but then thought about it. There was a reason why girls hated The Elite as much as they loved them. Brooke took special pride in it when her boys dumped their girlfriends just for a chance with her. She was a firm believer in fidelity, but hell, she wasn't the cheater.
Or, at least, she used to' Haley thought with a small frown creasing her forehead.
He just smirked at her in response, and her hand reached for the doorknob.
"I think we've been in here long enough for people to talk about you impregnating me, us eloping and moving to Kentucky. Are we done here?" she spat irritably.
"Well, we could make it true," his eyes challenged her, and she felt stuck. She knew that no matter what her reaction was, his eyes would take on that glow she could never write off as either triumph or amusement. Maybe it was both for a guy like Nathan Scott.
"In your dreams," she rolled her eyes. It was her bit that never failed.
"Well, of course," he laughed, and she could feel a slight blush prickling at the back of her neck. She found herself thankful for the darkness of the closet. "Hales, you don't want to know what you do in my dreams."
"Perv," she scoffed, feeling the brush spread. "So, did you just come here to sexually harass me?"
"Of course not. Not just to 'sexually harass' you, but I can't say that wasn't an added bonus," he smirked at her, tossing off a seductive wink. Then his demeanor changed completely, his strong resting on his hand, his elbows propped on his knees. "How's Brooke doing?"
"Wha—why?" she didn't know what question to spit out first.
"Well, when I saw her two days ago, she was drugged up. Forgive me for being concerned over a girl I had to carry around because she was incapable of walking by herself," he snorted.
"You really care about what happened to Brooke?" Haley asked incredulously. Though she couldn't see him clearly, she could sense another shift in him. She knew that his eyes would be darkening, a near navy color emerging, and she could feel anger crackle off him.
"Of course I care! My God, Haley, what do you think I am?" he stared at her, outraged, for only a moment, before turning on his heel and exiting. The door slammed behind him, leaving her alone, with only the darkness and her guilt. It didn't last long though, the door flying open, revealing the group of cheerleaders she had spoken to earlier that morning.
"See!" one cheered, a relieved smile on her face. "She's not naked! I still have a chance!"
Letting out a noise of disgust, it was Haley's turn to slam the door.
Second period. One of the only classes through the day where she was with both Brooke and Peyton. Apparently it was in this class that Nathan Scott had landed, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. The grumpy oldbag ladythey called a teacher had long separated the trio, citing that they were too talkative and they disturbed the class when they were together. Other students were free to sit where they pleased. Today, Haley plopped into her usual seat, glaring warningly at anyone who tried to sit in the surrounding ones. Peyton laughed at her from across the room, tossing her head back and sending her gold curls flying. Brooke seemed absent, staring out into space.
The air in the room seemed to still somewhat, and Haley dreaded turning towards the front of the door. She knew exactly who would be standing there, and hated the cliché effect he seemed to have on everyone around. She hated it even more when it affected her the same way. Lately, they seemed to have struck a tentative friendship, where she had started to relax just a little bit around him. Her guard didn't instantly fly up anymore, and even chanced a smile in his direction every once in a while. After what she'd implied this afternoon though, she knew their truce-ish sort of thing was all shot to hell.
She swiveled slowly, waiting for the Hallelujah chorus and a beam of light to descend upon the figure of Nathan Scott. Uncharacteristically mildly, she glanced up at him. He nodded in her direction before continuing past her. Frowning slightly, she walked as he exchanged those ridiculous super-macho handshakes with random members of the basketball team, smirked at Marc Lansquenet and halted before the center seat in the very back row. When Haley, Brooke and Peyton had been separated, they'd been moved as far as possible, their chairs forming a triangle. Haley sat in the very front, to the right, directly in front of the door. It amused her, on certain days, to see how many freshmen she could intimidate by glaring at as they peeked in through the glass of the door. Peyton Sawyer had been relegated to the other corner. Each day, she would sit sideways, her back against the wall. Brooke could never sit like that, saying it made her feel 'boxed in', but Peyton found it comforting. From there, she could see all that was going on in the room, completely aware that nothing could happen without her seeing it, and it made for a reliable gossip source. Brooke, the remaining point of the triangle, sat smack in the center of the room, back row. She was surrounded by her cheerleading groupies, and was usually the life of the class. Still, they didn't compare to her best friends, and so they had devised many secret ways of conversing.
It was at this desk, this third point, where Nathan Scott had stopped. Brooke's head shot up, her bright green eyes meeting his blue ones, a defiant, wary glare upon her face. It couldn't help but puzzle Haley. When had Brooke ever been less than light and airy, especially with a hot guy? Words were exchanged between the two brunettes, and she couldn't make out a single one of them. His broad back was turned to her, so all she had to go on was the ever shifting expression on her best friend's pretty face. After what seemed like a light-year but was, in fact, two minutes, a soft smile graced Brooke's face, and he dropped into the seat beside her, leaving Bevin scrambling for a new place to sit. Not that she minded or anything.
Nathan Scott was not a touchy-feely person. From the stories already being tossed around in various locker rooms and girls' bathroom, he was most certainly doing a lot of touching, but that's not what irked Haley James. Aside from the brief handshakes he'd exchanged, too distinctively masculine to be considered "touchy", she had not once seen him make contact with another. It called to mind the incident in the closet this morning. So had been slipping into that hazy state, lust-induced and oh so much fun, and he hadn't touched anything but her belt loops. It was just bizarre. Every other "playboy" that had risen and fallen at Tree Hill High had been notoriously gropey, but Nathan kept to himself.
This may be why it was so off-setting to her when her eyes, upon scanning the scene at Tric, found him with his arm casually looping the shoulders of Brooke Davis. It was the second time that day that the pairing had caused her to exchange bewildered glances with Peyton, but the curly blonde was no where near as hung up on the issue as Haley was. She was beginning to wonder why the hell she cared. And the possible reasons were starting to scare her.
"Hey Hales!" Peyton buzzed excitedly, calling her friend's attention back. Her large hazel eyes shimmered with excitement, and she could lose herself in the emotion for just a little bit. She could be vicariously thrilled, through Peyton. Anything to save her from the angst she'd been drowning in lately.
"What's up?"
"I totally forgot, but tonight is House of Freaks!" she cheered, and only Haley, out of all the eavesdroppers around, knew what that really meant to Peyton. A long, long time ago, her friend had gained a certain attachment to music. In fact, the only person she knew with one just as strong was herself, and she really believed it helped tie the two of them together when everything else was completely crazy. They'd done impromptu road trips all over the place to see Peyton's newest obsession. Brooke loathed most of the music, but not as much as she loved Peyton, so all three would be in for the ride.
"Do we know who's playing?" Haley inquired curiously, glancing about the club for a hint as to the mystery band.
"No idea," Peyton shrugged, downing another shot. Haley could just pray that her friend only got mildly wasted, because she was in no mood to deal with her when she was drunk.
She was about to comment on exactly that when the petite form of Karen Roe made herself known on the stage. Haley tried to keep the admiration in her eyes at a minimum, but there had always been something about the woman that she had appreciated. She was quiet and well-mannered, but she could really draw attention. That was the only way to explain how an entire room of teenagers had just silenced.
"Tonight, we have a very special performer. His star's on the rise now, but once upon a time, he was just a local boy. Please welcome to the stage, Tree Hill's very own… CHRIS KELLER!"
Haley's body froze, her cup half-way to her lips as she stared, disbelieving, up at the petite woman who had just spoken. Brooke's eyes met Haley for one of the only times that night, the sparkle draining out of the bright green to be replaced with undeniable concern. Peyton's reaction was far less subtle, violently spitting her drink out, spraying the surrounding crowd with her surprise. All three knew what this meant, and it was nothing good.
So concerned were they that they barely noticed him take to the stage. He looked the same as always, Haley noted wistfully. Still a little too skinny, with deep eyes and hair that her friends just couldn't get enough of mocking. The arrogant air about him was self-satisfied as always, but there was something different about him too. Whenever she'd seen him play before, he'd hammed it up for the crowds, and she felt like just another face. This time, hers was the first face he'd seeked.
"Helloooo Tree Hill!" he trilled into the mic, and the crowd went crazy. Peyton snorted, Brooke arched an eyebrow, Haley made no motion at all. "It's been a while since I've last been here."
"I'll say," Peyton muttered irritably. The blondes were too far away to read Brooke's lips, but they were moving at hyper-speed, and her eyes flashed angrily. They most certainly all got the message.
"But I've always had a soft-spot for here. That's why I can guarantee that I'll always come back. Because someone here means more to me than anyone," he let his eyes linger on Haley.
"You do a hell of a job of showing it!" a voice called out loudly, and the crowd twittered, unaware of the meaning behind the words. Judging by her voice, they couldn't tell if Brooke was enraged or intoxicated. Maybe a teeny bit of both.
"This song is for you, baby," Chris continued on, as if he had never been interrupted. His pale eyes remained locked on Haley's soft ones.
I take a walk down to the shore
and I wonder how much longer I'll sustain these steps
It's been a month since I've been gone
And its been a month too long since
You have graced me with your presence
I smell your scent on every single shirt I wear
I found pieces of your hair stuck to my suit case
I try to call but the reception here is weak
And it will still be three more weeks until I get home
I hope your waiting by the door when I get home
I don't want anyone to see me here alone
It's not enough to say I think about you now
But that was all I had, but that was all I had
But that was all I had.
I walk the boards alone tonight
And try to fill this empty space inside my chest
I take Atlantic home tonight
And every neon light in sight spells out your name
And every morning that I wake
I make a point to check the date, in case
I slept an extra day.
I cross as many numbers out
But every time I count them
There are so much more
I hope your waiting by the door when I get home
I don't want anyone to see me here alone
It's not enough to say I think about you now
But that was all I had, but that was all…
I hope your waiting by the door when I get home
I don't want anyone to see me here alone
It's not enough to say I think about you now
But that was all I had, but that was all I had
The audience went insane, girls cooing over how sweet he was, how lucky his girlfriend must be. Haley found herself frozen to the same spot she had been in, now watching the expressions fly over Peyton's face.
"Baby". Nobody that knew Haley James would ever call her 'baby' or 'honey' or 'sweetie'. If there was one thing she loathed, it was condescension. Peyton knew it, and Brooke knew it too, as did every boy who'd ever been kneed in the groin for trying them out, along with a corny pick-up line or two. Still, the song had been so romantic that it melted even a part of her, and she turned to her best friend, defeat drawn upon her features.
Haley's eyes flitted across the room for a signal from Brooke, anything to indicate what she was thinking. They may have been in bizarro land lately, but Brooke was still a part of her. The skinny brunette merely shrugged, and Haley was surprised when her eyes came in contact with a pair of bright blue ones that shook her to her core. Nathan Scott stared back at her, shamelessly, his arm still resting nonchalantly around her friend. There was something familiar in his eyes, a challenge of some sort. God, she would live to be a thousand and never understand the boy next door, and so she settled for glaring defiantly and refocusing her attention. Peyton nodded in understanding, toasting her with a plastic cup and waving her away, only minor disappointment in her eyes.
"Go ahead," she sighed. "Even I'd fuck him after that."
And here is where I'm going to shamelessly plug myself. I have a brandy new story called Hard to Find, and it's very very very different from this one. But I'll love you forever if you review it anyway.
Thanks for reading guys. Please review and let me know what you thought.
x Sam