(Mark Schwann and the WB own the characters depicted in this story I don't own anything… I wish I could say I owned the show but I don't)
It was two weeks to Thanksgiving and he was returning home, home to who he had no idea. He had spoken to his mother and she hadn't told him who was going to be there. He had a feeling his brother would be there since they had long since made up and his friend would probably be there but other than those people he was nervous about going home to his home town, he felt awkward he and his brother had played high school basketball there, and they had a legacy to live up to, neither one fully embraced it they just tried to have fun if they won a few games or hell if they had gone undefeated, that was good enough for them.
He had lived in Boston for four months and everyday was a struggle to not see her face, or see her in his dreams. It had been the longest four months he ever had lived. As he left his dorm room he glance at a photo that he had recently placed back on his night stand, it was a picture of her and him taken by his brother without their knowledge at a party before they had all left for college. He had given up trying to get her out of his mind, she was just one of those people you couldn't, it didn't help he lived with a constant reminder of her everyday he saw it. He left his dorm room ready to face his past. A past of regret, joy, sorrow, and family issues that dated back to before he was even born.
In an apartment on the UNC campus a man was getting anxious. He waited for his wife of two years to finish packing to go home to their hometown. They had lived at UNC for 4 months, they were nervous when they left that place, worried if the relationships they had formed would survive such a separation, one went to school in Boston, they went to Chapel Hill, three had gone to Seattle, and one to New York. So far the relationships had survived but it was still a shock to their systems when they realized that each one wasn't down the hall, or next door, or you couldn't just walk into those houses anymore with out ringing the door bell that sense of security was gone. They had lived like that for so long and all of a sudden in one week it was gone.
She left New York in her favorite set of comfortable clothes and pair of jeans and a gray hoody that she used as a security blanket of sorts. Sure she had pictures and other items he actually given her, but nothing meant more to her than that hoody, she had barrowed it at the beach one night before they left and accidentally kept it, at least that's what she told him when he asked her about it. Every once in a while she found her self spraying his cologne on it just to get that smell there after she washed it. This thanksgiving she was sure was going to be a good one, she was going to the place, and the only place she really felt apart of a family, with him and his parents.
The small family left Seattle just as quietly as they had come in those months before, but now they knew that was their home, the home where they were busy raising a child, together they were going to raise their family to be strong, brave, and to always stay true to yourself no matter what life threw at you. The young family had already been through more than what older families had gone through, but they had come out in the end stronger than ever, now they would go home to the place where it all started.
These young people had something in common; they were all going home to Tree Hill, North Carolina. To a large extended family of parents, friends, grandparents and honorary grandparent. The line that said 'You can never go home again' obviously never had been to this home, sure there was more drama than one person could take on alone, but this family had been through it all. And they had been through it all together.
