Chapter Summary: Lucas and Nathan try to control the court with unexpected results while Peyton, Brooke, and Haley look onward. And things take a turn when Jake/Haley, Nathan/Brooke, and Lucas/Peyton spend some time alone.

Disclaimer: I don't own OTH, shocking I know.

A/N: I tried to churn out an update faster this time, but I'm not sure when the next will be so enjoy the long update.I also tried out something a little different in this so I hope you all enjoy and for those who cared Jake/Haley scenes are back, told you it wouldn't be long. I tried to flesh out all the characters a little more in this one, how they see each other and what they wish they had that the others do. If you read plase review, I like to know what my readers think of this little fic of mine.

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Chapter Eight: The Games We Play

Guilt, shame, fear, and determination surged through Lucas' body as he stepped onto the court. Another game. Pressure piled onto his shoulders, threatening to bring him down. He clenched his teeth tightly together and planted his feet firmly into the hard floor. He had something to prove. Not just to the team. The town. His mom. But to himself. Playing on River Court all these years had filled him with a sense of pride. A deep and abiding love for the game. A respect that he didn't see reflected in the eyes of his teammates. To them it was just a game, a competition, but to him it was more. He lived and breathed the game. Every thought, every move he made on the court was in honor of basketball. To allow his mom walk into that gym every week with her head raised a little bit higher than the week before. To show her how much the sacrifices she made for him meant. He didn't play on this team to hurt her, every day he struggled with the guilt it caused him. Knowing how hard it was for her to see him wear that jersey. To look over the crowd and see Dan's smirk.

Dan. His father. The man who had abandoned him before he was born. His mom hadn't been enough for him. He wasn't enough. High expectations that were unattainable. A man who made him feel disgust and loss in one glance. He had taken so much away from his mother and him. He wasn't willing to give up something he loved just to make things easier for Dan. He deserved to suffer. To cringe at the reminder of his past. A past that was tainted. A game that he had loved and was taken away from him. A game his son's owned. Better than he was. Something that filled him with envy and hatred. Lucas wasn't stupid; he knew where Dan's fire came from. It was obvious. To him at least. It filled him with a tiny spark of satisfaction that he made Dan uncomfortable. Being a reminder. Being better at the game. To have a possible future playing the game. A game he loved more than Dan ever could.

He scanned the bleachers, nodding at Keith before turning back. Keith. His uncle. A man who was more of a father to him than Dan could ever hope to be. To the world he was an unsuccessful mechanic, but to Lucas he was a man who did the best he could. He lived life the way he wanted. Doing the best he could in the circumstances he was dealt. Never loving Lucas any less for being who he was. The kind of man he hoped he'd be someday. To love without conditions or boundaries.

"Go Ravens," he faintly heard Peyton's voice as she cheered next to Brooke. Peyton. Radiant smile. Brilliant wit. Cunning sarcasm. Beneath it all a heart just as tender as his own. Just buried beneath a wall she put up. A wall she sometimes made holes in for him to see through. Moments he held close. Like that night in her room after he pulled her out of the pool. Her vulnerability had been moving. He thought of that night sometimes. It gave him hope. Hope that someday she'd let him all the way in. That she'd let him show her who he was too.

"Get your head in the game," Nathan said lowly, running past him with the ball. Nathan was always goading him. Looking for a way to outdo him, to prove himself to someone. To show off to the world. Having to be the best. The best son. The best player. Nothing less would do. He couldn't share the spotlight with anyone. There was something about that guy he didn't like. Never had. Probably never would.

Nathan ran to the basket, pounding the ball against the floor and jumped up, up into the air with the ball, effortlessly plowing it through the net. The ball never touched the rim, but he did. Hung there for several minutes. Triumph filling his body. Adrenaline strumming through his taut body. He dropped to the floor and looked at his dad, his mouth twisted into a smirk. His father sat stock still in the front row, shock filling his face. Nathan watched the crowd cheer for him, his name echoing throughout he room, satisfaction filling his bones as his father shifted uncomfortably. He turned back to the game. He had won this round, but the game had only started. One flawless basket wasn't going to cut it. He had to make more, take control. Show his father who was the real winner.

He ignored the ache that briefly pierced his heart at the reminder his mom wasn't there. Never there. Always away. Working for charity. He couldn't blame her. He would leave too. His dad only became more unbearable as the years passed. More goading, more hard, more difficult. But he wished that once…she was here. To see him win. To beat Dan. Every basket made up for the years he had spent fighting his dad. It was the only thing that drove him on.

Another round. Jake passed the ball to Nathan, he was double-teamed. Lucas was close by. Open. But he couldn't pass it to him. No. He would never live it down. His dad would never let it end. He couldn't. He threw the ball and it was stolen by the other team. A sharp whistle sliced through the air. "Time out," the ref shouted and Nathan grudgingly ran over to Whitey with the rest of the team. "Why in hells name did you make that shot Scott?" Whitey's voice boomed across the tight circle of heaving bodies.

Nathan wasn't looking at Whitey as he answered, his dark gave planted on Lucas. Years of fury directed at the brother he had never known. The lucky one. The one who didn't suffer Dan's wrath. He'd never tell anyone that. How sometimes he wished he was Lucas. On the other side of the bizarre soap opera that was their dad's life. "I didn't see any other way coach."

"Lucas was right there, he was unguarded." Obvious. Everyone knew it. They had all seen Nathan take a risky shot.

He still wasn't looking at Whitey, his gaze cut into Lucas' face. "Couldn't pass it to him, coach." Lucas shifted uncomfortably.

"Why the hell not?" Whitey's white eyebrows snapped together in aggravation. "Look at me when I'm talking to you Scott."

Nathan's eyes moved to Whitey's disgruntled face. "He doesn't belong here," he said evenly.

It was Lucas' turn to glare at him. His hands unconsciously clenched at his sides. He wanted to strangle him, but he kept his hands still, balled into tight fists. He had never been violent, but something about Nathan brought it out of him. He knew how to look at him, how to say things that made him sick. Sick that someone who barely knew him would say it. Things his father probably said. The thought prickled inside his mind. Stabbing into his brain. Failing a father he had never really known. A man who he hated and missed in equal measure. At least the ideal of a father. Not really Dan. His blows towards Nathan were really directed at Dan. The lines were so blurred, he couldn't tell the difference anymore.

"Guess what, Scott, it's my team, not yours. You do what I say, now get back out there." He pointed at the court and growled lowly for Nathan's ears only, "And if you make another move like that, I'll bench you."

"You wouldn't," Nathan taunted with raised eyebrows.

"Don't tempt me," Whitey's voice was live gravel. He motioned to the ref to blow the whistle and turned away.

Nathan snapped his head around in frustration. His eyes landing on Jake who had been staring at Whitey, hearing the words he had just uttered. "What are you staring at Gaegalski?"

Jake shook his head. He had never gotten along with Nathan. Sometimes he felt outside the team. Someone who played, but wasn't really considered one of them. After Jenny came into the world he had considered giving up basketball. Wanting to spend every ounce of free time he had raising his daughter. Ultimately he had come to the conclusion that he couldn't let his whole universe revolve around her. He was allowed to have a life outside her. Even if she was the single most important person in his life. He still had to live for himself. Keep doing the things that made him happy, but being more careful. He couldn't just think about himself anymore, he had someone else to consider. Someone else to look after. His baby girl. The light of his life. She's what kept him distant from the guys on the team…that is everyone but Luke.

Then there was Haley. They had grown close in their short time together. She knew a lot about him and he hoped he knew just as much about her. Well…she knew about everything but Jenny really. A secret he still couldn't tell. Was afraid to tell. Haley wouldn't judge him, she would probably welcome Jenny with open arms, but he had to take Jenny's feelings into consideration. He couldn't risk her getting attached and then losing someone else. Was Haley the right girl to bring into her life? She made him happy, but…Lucas tapped him on the shoulder and jerked his head toward the court. A silent gesture that broke Jake away from his thoughts. He smiled and followed Luke back onto the court. Game time again.

Peyton shook her head as the team went back to playing. "Nathan's being an ass again." She muttered under her breath. Sometimes she wondered what she had ever seen in him. You're a bitch, remember, her brain sneered. Deep down he was misunderstood, Dan had damaged him more than she had realized.

Brooke glanced over at her and smiled at her between shakes of her pom poms. "Did I hear Nathan and ass? I have to say it is damn fine."

Peyton rolled her eyes, "He's being an ass." She got tired of their conversations sometimes. Sex. Boys. Sex. She vaguely wondered if Brooke would ever grow out of it. If she'd ever understand all the shit she went through on a daily basis. But then again she knew Brooke had baggage. She had met her parents after all. They just dealt with their issues differently. Sometimes it was frustrating. She couldn't talk to her about things…Brooke wanted to bury it under booze, sex, or shopping. Peyton buried under sarcasm and sketches no one understood.

"He can wear it well," she cocked her head to the side and grinned.

"Whatever. You're just lust struck."

"Jealous," Brooke scoffed, "why Peyton green isn't a good color on you. Don't be mad at me just because you aren't getting any from wonderboy over there." She pointed at Lucas running down the court with the ball. His turn this time to show Nathan that the team wasn't really his. That he had competition now.

Peyton ignored the comment and watched Lucas. He moved like a panther across the court. His steps were sleek. Well-calculated. Measured, Precise. His eyes were focused. Dedicated. He handled the ball with care. Holding like it was a delicate object. Something fragile. The way he had touched her face that night he had told her wanted everything with her. The night she had screwed it all up. Her insecurities. Her issues. Her fears. Her avoidance. She had known it then and she knew it now. She was the only thing keeping them apart. It wasn't because she had no feelings for him because she did..she just didn't know how to handle it. To be what he wanted. To not let him down.

She shook her head to clear away the thoughts of her feelings. She had enough going on in her life…she couldn't deal with this right now. He shot the ball and it swished through effortlessly. His handsome face broke into a wide grin. He loved the game. It was in the way he presented himself while he played, the way his eyes looked when he talked about it. It was just there. It wasn't about anyone but himself.

A shaft of guilt sliced through her stomach. Obligation. Sacrifice. Some people didn't have the luxury he did. To do what they loved, no matter the cost. Not having to please anyone but themselves. Unlike me, her thoughts beat against her temples. Cheerleading had never made her happy. Not even when she had started. It was like a chain around her ankle, always there, slowing her down, causing her pain. But she had learned to live with it. Drawing made her feel the way Lucas did when he played. Free. Happy. To just be herself and not put on the many masks she wore. The layers that covered her.

"Hello, earth to P. Sawyer." Brooke's voice broke through the clouds in her mind.

"Uh…yeah?" She moved her eyes back to Brooke in slow motion. Everything felt surreal.

"We're supposed to be cheering here,"

"Right," She lifted her white and blue pom poms in the air, swishing them around. "Go Ravens," Not a lot of pep, but there were other girls to get the point across.

Brooke shook her head, most nights Peyton's distance would annoy her, but tonight…she understood. It wasn't always easy pasting on a smile and adding cheer to every motion. Sometimes she wished she were more like Peyton, less happy and a little more…honest. Not that Peyton was always honest about how she felt, but at least she didn't parade around pretending she was okay when she clearly wasn't. She knew she wasn't always on Peyton's level. Peyton thought about things too much. She didn't just enjoy things. Like with Lucas, she should just go for it and stop thinking about it so damn much.

She watched Nathan's muscles bulge and strain as he stole the ball from the other team. Speaking of having fun…she needed him tonight. To get lost in him. His kisses. His body. She needed the release. To forget her mother was a wreck and her father was an absent asshole. In some ways she felt addicted to sex. It wasn't always about pleasure. It was about pain. Pressing against someone so hard it hurt. Like her heart was when she thought of her life. Her home. All the guys she had fucked. It wasn't always easy to be talked about. To be called a slut. She knew she was. She let guys use her even if she was using them too. It was better than trusting them. Loving them. If she had learned anything, that was it.

Haley blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. Boring. She had always found basketball dull. It didn't help that Lucas would talk about it constantly every time they hung out. It was basketball, books, or Peyton. All subjects he had run into the ground time and time again. She always looked interested in the game though. She had learned that if she pressed her elbows into her knees, rested her head in the palms of her hands, and squinted at the court she could appear engrossed in the game. She'd just try to figure out math problems in her head that she either had to solve for class or for her own entertainment. No wonder people call me a nerd, she laughed inwardly. Doesn't help that you tutor either. Tutor girl. Oh god, I'm so bored I'm talking to myself. Thankfully Jake rarely talked about basketball. If he did, she'd have nothing to say. She'd end up smiling and nodding at him like she did with Luke on a regular basis.

She watched Peyton and Brooke cheer the team on with furrowed eyebrows. She had thought that maybe Peyton would have given her a chance. To be her friend. To let her in. They hadn't spoken in a few weeks. An occasional nod in passing. A tiny smile. Something. Haley really didn't have any friends outside Lucas and well…Jake of course. Or whatever they were. They had grown close. So close she had a major crush on him. Maybe it was a bad idea. To jump from one basketball player to another. But with Jake..it was different. He made her feel good. Confident. Something she only felt when tutoring or around Luke because he was harmless. Other guys had always made her feel antsy. Lacking in some way. The way she felt at home when her parents ignored her. She popped her gum, banishing the thoughts of her home life before they could grow. It was nice…to feel this way.

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"Ravens win, forty-two to thirty-five." The announcer's voice crackled into the microphone. Barely louder than the cheering crowd. The players were in the locker room now. Basking in victory and sweat. Hard-won points. No collaborative effort. Scott pitted against Scott. Making the win tense. Awkward. Everyone on Nathan's side save Jake. Following the harder Scott. The one they feared and respected in equal measure.

Whitey walked in, a scowl filling his wrinkled face. "In my thirty years of coaching I've never seen a team like you." The players smiled at each other, missing the annoyance laced through the statement. "Player against player." He stared pointedly at Lucas and Nathan. "You two," he gestured towards them. "Until you can learn to play nice, you're off the team."

"Whitey you can't do that." Nathan stepped towards Whitey threateningly.

"The hell I can't, watch me." He moved closer, his face mere inches from Nathan's, so only they could hear. Lucas had moved toward them as well, knowing he should listen. "For the next two games, unless you come to an understanding, you'll keep the bench warm."

"I'm your best player, without me there is no team." Nathan stared at Whitey coldly.

"I'm the coach. Teamwork is more important than winning, you remember that."

Lucas stared at Whitey numbly. No basketball..? He had worked so hard to get here. To prove something to everybody, to himself and now the game was being ripped away from him. Just because Nathan was impossible to get along with. He respected Whitey so he had to respect his demands. Maybe they could learn to work together. And maybe hell would freeze over.

"Two weeks, you have two weeks." Whitey stalked away from them and then turned, "No practice either."

"Nice going, punk ass." Nathan glared at him as he pulled off his shirt.

"Excuse me?" He couldn't believe Nathan was blaming him for this. They had both asked for it. They shouldn't have been hogging the ball. Refusing to pass it to one another, "You heard him. It's both of us."

"Whitey didn't have a problem with me until you showed up." He said matter-of-factly, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a white towel. "First you steal my spot on the team then you go after my girlfriend," he slung the towel over his shoulder, "and now I'm suspended."

"All that is your fault." His voice rose as anger bubbled in his veins, "You are good, but not good enough." Feelings he had always felt when it came to Nathan and Dan. Not being good enough to be included. To be called a Scott. A title he no longer wanted, but a pain that was old and deep. "Peyton just saw the error of her ways and you got us suspended. You could have just passed the ball to me, idiot."

"And let you win?" Nathan sneered, "Fuck no."

"Whatever," Lucas grabbed his gym bag and stalked out of the locker-room. He was fed up with Nathan's shit. There was no way in hell he would ever get along with him. It was more possible for ….

"Hey," Peyton's voice interrupted his raging thoughts.

"Hey," he smiled into her pale face. Her eyes looked haunted. By what he wasn't sure. Her eyes looked as broken as they had that day she had told him about her mom's death. But they were also different. Dissatisfied. Stuggling. "Ready to take me and my mom home?" He had learned not to push her. To force her to tell him anything. She would in her own time.

He was looking at her strangely. Expectantly. Like he was waiting for her to say something. Could he tell she was thinking about what she had found in the attic? She hadn't been able to get it out of her head. "She said she'll meet you there later." She said casually, letting the words slide from her lips naturally. "Your uncle is taking her home."

"Are they going to rendezvous or something?" He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. Trying to distract her from whatever it was that was troubling her.

She laughed at the expression on his face. Her worries falling away into her laughter. "Nah….Keith is taking her out…sort of a big goodbye dinner thing."

"It's pretty late to have dinner," Dinner after nine at night? It seemed strange even for his mother and her eating habits. Once they had eaten dinner at eight to be more European. Suffice it to say that only happened once. She was a creature of habit and routine.

She shook her head. "I think it's a date, loser."

"My mom and Keith?" He had thought about them dating before, but now that it was a possibility it was kind of strange. And amazing.

She wrinkled her brow in feigned thought, "I think that's them…or their clones,"

"Weird."

"Clones usually are," He cocked his head and smiled at her, not responding to the words. "Bad weird or good weird?"

"Good, definitely good." He beamed at the thought. He had always considered Keith his father even if he technically wasn't. He stopped that train of thought before it could take off. It was just one date. His smile faded as Nathan exited the locker room, reminding him of his suspension.

Peyton didn't miss the change in his eyes and face. "What's up?"

"Uh…." He watched Brooke approach Nathan. He didn't want to talk about it right now. Not here. Not when her ex-boyfriend and best friend were within earshot. "I'll tell you later."

"Good game, superstar," Brooke said with her lips tilted upwards in a sly grin, "Now it's my turn." She ran her tongue over her bright red lips. The color had become her trademark. Seductive. Making her teeth glow even more than they would otherwise.

He refused to look at her lips, knowing she brought attention to them to achieve her aim. To make him want her. To inspire desire. Damn, he thought as his loins hardened at the image in his head. He didn't have to see it to want to kiss her. But he wouldn't. She wasn't going to win. She was just a girl. He could get sex anywhere, "Where's the jacket?"

"What jacket?" She raised her eyebrows slightly in mock innocence.

"Don't play games, Brooke, just give it to me." He wasn't in the mood for her mind games. To play back. He was tired of this cat and mouse game. His plan to make her want him to the point of frustration, but not give her anything was already old. It wasn't his style.

"Shouldn't that be my line?" She purred, touching his arm lightly. Her fingertips barely against his skin, making it burn where they rested. Her body aching at the contact. She had never wanted anyone the way she wanted him.

She wouldn't give up. Not until he gave in. Or at least appeared to give in. She'd get bored of him. She always did. They had played this game before. Long before Peyton had entered the picture. Only it was more innocent then. He had been different. And his body hadn't burned this way. Wanted to claim what she was offering. But resisting it. Pretending he couldn't feel her fingers on his forearm. "What's it going to take to get my jacket back?"

"Well…." She paused and tilted her head to the side, squinting her eyes in thought. Her face lit up when a seemingly innocent idea occurred to her. "You could give me a ride in your fast car."

Haley observed the exchange between Nathan and Brooke with little interest. A few weeks ago it would have bothered her, but it didn't anymore. She just wished Jake would come out of the locker room already. She shifted her eyes and saw Lucas and Peyton standing a few feet away. I should go say hi, she thought as she jumped off the bleachers and made her way towards them. "Hey," She smiled.

They turned towards her simultaneously. "Hey Hales," Luke grinned.

"Hey," Peyton nodded slowly. She hadn't known how to talk to Haley after the party a few weeks ago. She knew she had said some pretty shitty things that Haley hadn't deserved. She was probably too good for her. Like Luke. They were both…so good. So innocent. So pure. It just made her feel like she was a black stain covering their lives. Hurting them by her actions and her words.

"So how many math problems did you do in your head while I played?" Lucas said teasingly.

"Oh…god, you knew that?" She laughed, her face coloring slightly in embarrassment.

"You…Haley James" he looked around and said quietly, "…are predictable."

"Shut up!" She smacked his arm. "I'm not…predictable."

The last word they both said at once.

"See my point," He winked as Jake approached them.

"Hey," Jake smiled at Haley before turning to Lucas and Peyton. "Luke sorry about…"

"Uh…don't worry about it." Lucas cut in. He didn't want to talk about this now. Or ever if he could help it. He would eventually, but it was still too raw. Too new.

Jake got the hint, "Well Haley and I should get going…" he coughed nervously.

"Yeah us too." Lucas said, "See you later man." He stuck his hand out and Jake slapped it.

"Later." Jake and Haley walked out of the gym, having only eyes for the other.

"What was that about?" Peyton raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing…" he lied. He knew guilt was written all over his face. He had always been a terrible liar. But for once…he didn't want to talk about it.

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The late evening breeze ruffled Brooke's feathery red-brown hair. Pushing her hair up off her forehead and back, out into the wind. Free of the constraints of the ponytail she had her hair pulled back into during the game. It was a tangled mess. Whipping out behind her then suddenly wrapping around her face. Altering back and forth. The car lurched forward, going faster than it had before. It was dangerous. Reckless. Her heart accelerating along with the engine. It wasn't just the car. It was the guy driving it. Sexy. Brooding. Dark. Not just in the literal sense but inside. Beneath the surface. She could detect it there. Appearances were always put on for a reason. Masks to hide reasons. He was hard, like her. The world was always taking away innocence. Leaving something different in its place. Something that can survive the harshness. A shield that can't be penetrated. One that covered them both.

She had never felt understood. She knew Peyton had had a hard life. But their problems were different. Different reactions. But Peyton had gotten her through more than she had ever thanked her for. Always there for her best friend. Peyton knew more about her than anyone else. Secrets she'd never utter to another soul. But there was still something that kept them from truly understanding each other. The walls they had both built around themselves. Their own demons. Their differences in dealing with them. Sometimes looking at Nathan she felt he just…got it. But he was probably like everyone else. Thinking the same things about her everyone else said.

She just couldn't explain the feeling that filled her chest when he was around. Desire most of all. And sometimes flashes of sympathy. Understanding. Something deeper. But she'd quickly force those emotions down. She had no room for them in her life. No room for a relationship. Trust. Or love. Not with a male. It would never be more with her and Nathan. Because he wasn't one of those guys who would have sex with her and think it meant something more. He wouldn't cling to her and beg. He knew how to let go. So did she. The only one they had both ever held onto was Peyton. Maybe it was because they had grown up with her and were there through so much or…

He turned the radio up, Dashboard Confessional pounding through the open-topped convertible. "You're kidding." She frowned at him, recognizing a CD of Peyton's when she heard it. Too angsty. Too depressing. Life was like that enough. She didn't need her world to be filled with reminders of it.

He turned his head and raised his eyebrows, his forehead crinkling. "What?"

"This CD has P. Sawyer written all over it."

He had dated Peyton so long he had collected her music. CD's she had left in his room. In his car. Gifts given on birthdays. Thrown into the backseat, ignored until they had broken up. Music he had criticized during the span of their relationship he had grown attached to. Missed. He had been over her for a while, their relationship had died long before it ended, but he still missed the girl. The friend. Sometimes the music. He shrugged indifferently, "It's not so bad."

"It makes me want to slash my wrists," she felt a prickle of jealousy stab her chest. She quickly shoved it away before it could grow into something unmanageable.

He laughed, "Me too."

"The world is depressing enough," she stuck her right hand out the window, waving it in the cool night air.

"Then what do you suggest? If you say Avril you're getting out of my car."

"God," her laugh tinkled in the night air, touching his face, bringing a small smile to it despite his desire to resist. "No."

He switched the radio off, silence filling the car once again. They had been driving for an hour. Barely talking. He had planned to take her to the beach house, but tonight he was so pissed at Whitey and Lucas he would probably give in to Brooke just to take his mind off it. Sex was the best way to release his frustrations and tensions. Peyton used to cry sometimes when they had sex. On nights he was too pissed. Too drunk. He was too rough. She would never let him see, she'd turn her head, but he always knew. It had made him feel like a bastard. He couldn't do that to someone else. Again. Not even Brooke. Who was blatant about her intentions. Probably just as rough as he was. Just as hard. But that wasn't the point. He couldn't let himself become another guy to her. Another conquest. He could play those games, but he wouldn't let someone do it to him.

She let the silence roll into her mouth. Sucking it in. It wasn't awkward. It was just…there. Quiet. "This wasn't exactly what I had in mind," she said finally.

"Ohhhh….yeah?" He pretended to be ignorant of her meaning.

"I was thinking me, you, rolling around in the sheets for a couple of hours. Writing. Moaning. Clinging. Sweating." Her voice husky, seductive, wrapping around him like a warm breeze.

She wasn't shy. No one could ever accuse her of that. "Brooke, Brooke, Brooke…" he shook his head in amusement. "You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"

"Mmmmm…" she cocked her head to the side. Her hair falling out of the wind onto her shoulders as she did so. Observing him through hooded eyes. The way his jaw clenched. His hands gripping the steering wheel until the veins popped up. His eyes set on the road in front of him.

"I don't fuck with just anyone." His voice hard, the tiny hint of emotion it had contained now gone.

"I like a challenge,"

"And you never give up."

"No…charming isn't it?"

"Hardly."

The car rolled down her street, she hadn't noticed until now. He was taking her home. She wanted to scream in frustration. She didn't want to face that reality. Not so soon. Not when she could spend a few more hours with the guy at her side. "Taking me home, so soon? And I thought you liked to have a little fun."

"I do, but with someone a little less predictable." He stared at her pointedly as he stopped the car in front of her mansion. The house dark, the only lights coming from the streetlights.

She shoved open the door and slammed it shut. She leaned through the rolled down window, making sure her breasts were visible to his piercing eyes. "This is hardly the end Scott."

He stared at her boldly, enjoying the view, but unwilling to let it be more. Not tonight. Not ever. "Goodnight, Davis."

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"So they have your standard flavors, vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, but they also have the kind of ice cream no one can really figure out. Like superman, raspberry twist, double chocolate fudge…" Jake pointed to the barrels of ice cream through the clear glass of the local ice cream parlor. He leaned close, the soft puffs of breath that escaped his lips tickling her ear, "Personally I go for plain old chocolate."

"What a coincidence, I'm a plain vanilla kind of girl." Her teeth shone in the dimly lit room.

"It must be kismet,"

"Fate," The guy across the counter rolled his eyes. "My good man," she said in a mock New Yorker accent, "I'll have a vanilla ice cream in a waffle cone and my friend here," she pointed at Jake, "will have a chocolate ice cream in a plain cone."

"Yes m'am," the man drawled lazily, his movements just as slurred.

"You really know how to show a girl a good time," she chuckled. She found it cute that he wanted to take her out for ice cream. It was on her level. Nothing dangerous or reckless. Just simple. Honest.

"That's what all my dates say," he winked in exaggeration.

"So this is…a date?" she held her breath, hoping he'd confirm that his feelings for her reflected hers for him.

He colored slightly at her inquiry. "Ahhh…well friends can hang out in date-type atmospheres."

"Oh," she shoved the disappointment out of her voice.

"That will be five forty-two," the man's voice cut through the awkward moment. Haley handed over the money and grabbed her cone. Jake took his and smiled politely at the disgruntled worker.

They left the parlor, stepping out into the cool October night. "I can't believe it's almost Halloween,"

"Me either, seems like just yesterday…" Jenny was born. He had been about to say it. Would it ever feel right to tell her? He had just made a mess of things..now wasn't the time or place.

"What?" She arched her eyebrows.

"That it was summer." He hated to lie. It didn't settle well in his stomach.

"Yeah," she said softly. She felt like there was more. But she wasn't going to pry when it was probably just her own paranoia rising to the surface. "So outside basketball, what do you do for fun?" She licked her ice cream, letting the cold sit in her stomach. For October it was unusually warm.

"I play a little guitar, nothing special," he shrugged. He had only played for Jenny, no one else had ever heard it. Or knew about it really. Telling her felt natural. He wanted her to know about his life. It was hard opening up to someone again. After Jenny's mom had run out on them he hadn't let anyone get this close to him. It scared him sometimes, but it also felt good. Right.

"Yeah? I sing sometimes, not well." She laughed nervously. No one knew about that. Not even Luke.

"Yeah? I bet you have a beautiful voice," he said sincerely.

"I remember once I was an angel in the school Christmas play in fourth grade," she shook her head at the memory, "I had to sing and when I walked on the stage all the words went poof, right out of my head. Everyone just stared at me and after five minutes I ran off the stage crying. I was so embarrassed."

"Did you have a halo?" He grinned. He had gone to another school in fourth grade, it was always nice to hear elementary school stories. It made him feel like more a part of Tree Hill than he did. He had always felt outside the town. A stranger who could never fit in. Haley made him feel wanted. A part of something bigger.

"A bent one," she laughed.

"I think I was a sheep in a Christmas play once,"

"A sheep? Are you serious?" her laugh was deep and loud. Free. Forgetting the awkwardness that had existed between them earlier.

"It was a very strange play," they laughed mutually as they turned the corner at the end of her street. They had dropped his car off at his house after the game, deciding to walk to the ice cream parlor and back. "I'll make you a deal,"

"What kind of deal?" Intriguing.

"If I play my guitar for you sometime, you have to sing for me."

"Hmmmm, I'll have to think about that." She said as they reached her door, the crickets chirping around them.

"Okay," he said softly, "Goodnight Haley."

"Night Jake."

---------------

Peyton studied the pictures lining the hallway between the living room and Lucas' bedroom. He had given her a tour of the house, it was small but cozy. Warm. He had hesitated to show her his room, but she had insisted. If it had been any other guy she would have questioned his intentions, but with Lucas it wasn't like that. He wouldn't try to take advantage of her. Not that she wouldn't be willing. She shook her head, trying to banish the thought. Where had this all come from? This longing. To touch him again. To continue what they had started that night of the basketball party. To just get lost for a night. To not think about the consequences. Or her messed up life.

She turned her attention to his moving body. How perfect and…golden he was. Everything about him. She had never met anyone like him. So caring. So compassionate. So giving. Not wanting to take, but give. Just give. Something Nathan had never done. And she wanted to take him. Consume him. Brand him. Burn her body into his. Tearing into his heart. Splintering everything good inside him. That's what always happened. If there was an ounce of purity in someone, she could stain it. She was torn between taking him and giving him back. To the world. To someone better than her. Someone good. Someone radiant. Someone else. Someone who wouldn't twist his heart into knots. Make it bitter and black. Someone he wouldn't resent after seeing into the depths of her soul.

He could feel her eyes boring into his back. Intense. Focused on her thoughts. He wished he could see into her mind. Hear her thoughts. Then maybe he could understand why one minute her smile would fill him with hope and the next it would crack, making him feel just as broken as she did. Seeing something she could have, but wouldn't take. Couldn't take. And he wanted to give to her, give it all. He had wanted everything with her, to share it. To give and take all she had to offer. But it was too much. And said too soon. But still there. He still meant it though he had been trying as hard as hell to get her out of his head. To pry her away from his heart. But she kept getting closer and closer. Even though they were only supposed to be friends. He still felt more. Couldn't stop it.

He stopped in front of his door, pushing it open to expose it to her eyes. He stepped inside and she slowly followed, taking in the surroundings. It was tidy, a few magazines lying here and there. His bed was unmade, his green sheets peeking out between his dark blue comforter. His pillows looked mauled, creases pressed into it every inch of them. She walked to his wall that held old childhood trophies. She touched them lightly, reading the titles. "You went to basketball camp?"

"Yeah, my mom thought it'd help me build character. Hone my skills, teach me about teamwork." He smiled at the wonder on her face, as if she were touching sacred relics instead of old camp trophies and medals.

She turned from the shelf, her loose ponytail bouncing up quickly before staying in place, "Did it?"

"Yeah," her eyes were wounded. Full of something he couldn't make out. Couldn't read.

"That's why I went to cheer camp," she said softly. Her voice low, seeing an old memory. An old pain.

"Yeah? When was that?" He leaned back against his desk, crossing his legs casually.

"The summer before my mom died, its where I met Brooke." Before her world changed. She hadn't liked cheerleading even then. Her mom had fought with her about it. Peyton had always been full of fire and opinions. Even then, at the tender age of eight. Then her mom died and it all changed. She had gone back every summer until she was old enough to start cheering at school. Chained to something she hated out of guilt, shame, and obligation. To honor her mother. To make up for the fight they had the night before she died. Putting so much into something she hated. Just to erase the shame.

He waited for her to continue, letting the silence dip down. The room still. Humming in wait. Like him. He could see pain in her eyes, but she wasn't going to share. Say anything. Maybe she had already said too much. The hurt in her eyes made his heart ache. He wished he could help her. To ease that pain. But he knew he couldn't. "Oh yeah?" He said finally, not sure what else to say. Not wanting to step across the boundaries she had set for them.

She nodded slowly, "That was the summer of the boy band obsession."

"You mean like…N'Sync and Backstreet Boys?" Moving on. He would roll with it. Letting the tense moment pass.

"You were a fan?"

"No," he laughed, "I did have a best friend who thought Nick Carter was god."

"Brian was always my favorite,"

"You had a crush on a Backstreet Boy?" amusement laced through his voice.

"Don't tell anyone, you'd live to regret it." She threatened, half-joking, half-serious.

"I can't believe it….just please stop playing games with my heart."

"Shut up!" her mouth hung open as she thought of what to say next. "It was a phase. A very bad phase when I had no taste in music."

"I hear they have a new CD out, bet you have it in your car."

"Haha, I told you a dirty secret, now it's your turn." She tilted her head to the side, waiting for him to confess something.

"Why would I do that?"

"It's only fair."

"Okay, okay," he walked over to his closet and pulled down a box, he dug around until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a ratty, old brown teddy bear. He approached her, standing so close, their bodies were almost touching. "This is Snuggles, my childhood playmate."

"You have a stuffed bear named Snuggles?" A shout of laughter emitting from her throat and she had to hold her stomach as tears of laughter poured from her eyes.

"Shut up, its not that funny." He grinned, glad to see her laughing even if it was at his expense.

"But it is. Snuggles the bear."

"You can stop now,"

"Okay, I'm sorry." She smiled, staring at his lips. Suddenly realizing how close he was. She could feel his breath on her chin. Gentle puffs of air. His cobalt eyes bore into hers, capturing her gaze, refusing to let go. She leaned in closer subconsciously, her hands pressing against his chest. Instead of pushing him away she set her lips against his. Softly. Lips barely touching. He opened his mouth slowly and she gently sucked on his bottom lip. He tasted like garlic bread. Normally she would find that disgusting, but her insides were shaking. Her heart rattling against her chest. Her head started to spin. She was falling, falling into his kiss. His lips. He pulled away and she moved with him, not wanting to break the contact. To face this moment.

"Peyt…" his breathing was ragged. "We can't do this."

She felt dizzy, her head was spiraling in wide circles. She couldn't believe she just did that. Let that happen. "I'm sorry…its been a really long, weird day."

"No…" he rested his forehead against hers and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, moving her closer, "what I said that night at the basketball party…I still want that Peyt. With you. I've tried not to. Because you asked for my friendship and I wanted to give you what you wanted. What you're ready for. God…" he sighed into her eyes, the garlic on his breath flooding her nostrils. She wrinkled her nose, the smell not as pleasant at the taste. "I want this so much, you know? To just kiss you and pretend like there isn't…this barrier between us." He squatted down until their eyes were level, bumping up her chin so she could look into his eyes. Know what he was saying was true. To face it. "But I can't do that not until you want the things I want. With me. And it isn't about sex with me. I can't be that guy for you. But if you the time ever comes when you want more, you can kiss me again."

She lightly scratched the blue tank top he was wearing, letting his words soak into her tired mind. "Don't wait on me Luke,"

I can't help it, his heart ached. But he knew if the words left his mouth she would run away again. He wasn't going to lie to her either, "Okay."

She tore herself away from him, afraid she would get lost in his words and arms, never finding her way back out. She couldn't depend on someone that way. Couldn't let him need her either. Which she found more terrifying she didn't know. She just had to leave. "I...uh should go."

His heart contracted. She was leaving again. He had expected it, but at the same time he had hoped it would be different. "I'll walk you to your car,"

"No…I can find my way." She backed out of the room, practically running.

"Okay,"

"Goodnight Lucas," she called over her shoulder as she left the room.

"Night, Peyton." When he heard the front door shut behind her he said to the empty room, "I'll be here."