Twisted
You lie to yourself
Nathan
"A new year, a new record," Whitey shouts, drilling yet another speech into me and my team mates. My best friend Tim is slumped against the back of the bench we're sat on, his eyes visibly drooping. I look over at my older brother Lucas being a geek as usual. His back is ram-rod straight and he's listening to every word that Whitey is saying. Sometimes it's so embarrassing that we're related.
"Please tell me its over," Tim groans beside me, leaning forward and dropping his head between his knees.
"But before I bore you to sleep," Whitey is saying, making Tim grunt beside me. I bite back on a laugh. "I'm going to let you get to your first lesson of the year on time". Wait, this isn't fair.
"We've got to go to lesson?" I ask in confusion, I thought we'd get to practice. I mean, Whitey has drilled it into us that this season is going to be tough, even for the Tree Hill Ravens.
"I think your academic studies are just as important as your game boys," Whitey says with a knowing smile. Lucas is swinging his bag over his shoulder and looking all nerdy and ready for lesson. I groan and grab my own back, swinging it over my shoulder. Whitey waves at us then heads for his office.
"So Nate, what have you got first?" Tim asks, jumping over the bench and dropping his bag, spilling its contents across the polished floor of the gym. What a goofball.
"American Lit." I state bluntly, clearly not in the mood.
"Hey, Brooke Davis has got that lesson," Tim yells, putting his hand up in a high-five gesture. I stare at it and head for the other side of the gym.
"And?"
"And Brooke Davis is one hot female. And she's pretty easy if you know what I mean," Tim raises one eyebrow in what he thinks a suave suggestion, but just looks like he's got something in his eye.
"Don't you guys ever get tired of treating girls like meat?" Luke asks, joining us at the door to the gym with his new best friend, Jake Jagelski.
"Don't you ever get tired of wasting my time?" I ask. Luke rolls his eyes. What annoys me most about my big brother – who is only older than me by three months by the way – is the fact that he always takes the moral highroad. He's like an old man stuck in a teenager's body.
"Hey man, it's not our problem if your girlfriend is like the mouldy meat that nobody wants," Tim says, cracking up and tapping my shoulder, expecting me to do the same. But for some reason, I only feel even more annoyed. Jake takes a breath in and I can feel Luke's calm façade starting to wear thin. His girlfriend is a sensitive issue with my older bro.
"Tim that wasn't funny," I say evenly, hoping to diffuse the situation a little. As much as I hate Lucas, I don't want to get into a fight with him in the gym in front of Whitey who could suspend me from the game. And knowing Whitey, he probably would.
"Too right it wasn't," Lucas mutters, pulling his bag up to his shoulders and storming past us. Jake follows him without a word. I throw one last withering glance at Tim and head for Miss Leblowski's American Lit. class.
"Nathan Scott," Brooke Davis greets me when I enter the class. "Park your butt down there," she instructs pointing to the chair in front of her. I smirk at her, her sparkling eyes, sexy smile and perfect figure. Tim's right, she is pretty hot, just not 100 right in the head. She likes Luke, explains everything. But still, I'd probably do her – and I will. I always get what I want.
"Hey Brooke," I say, taking in the fact that no-one else I know is in the class. I look at the girl beside Brooke and feel a heavy thump in my stomach. Haley James, Luke's deranged and annoyingly squeaky-clean girlfriend. Fantastic. I consider sitting besides Rory McGregor, the only empty seat left in the room, but realise that could hit my popularity a little. Rory has jam jar black glasses and a retainer for Gods Sake, like we didn't get rid of those in the seventh grade. I take the seat in front of Brooke and throw my bag under the desk, making sure that Haley knows I've seen her, and I'm purposefully ignoring her. Hey, I get kicks out of her hating me, what can I say?
I turn towards Brooke and slash my trademark smirk at her, the one that usually has girls collapsing because their knees have turned to jelly.
"So you got trapped in this class as well?" she asks with a cheeky grin. I nod and turn towards Haley.
"How's Luke?" Haley looks at me and sighs, like she's fed up which is absurd because I've only started talking to her, I've got the rest of the lesson to go yet.
"I really wouldn't know Nathan. He was with you in the gym so I'm guessing he's probably annoyed as hell," she says getting her pens and pencils out of her bag and placing them on her desk in order of tallest. Oh my God, I knew she was a geek but this is beyond nerdy. She sees me eyeing her pencils up and covers them with her hand indignantly, like I was looking at her underwear or something. Oh please, like I'd want to.
"Wow, I didn't know people actually did that," I say, leaning over towards her. She leans back a little and looks at me suspiciously.
"Did what?"
"Arranged their pencils like that. I though it was just the stereotype for geeks in Hollywood films. Guess their actually quite lifelike really"
"I guess they are". Haley looks me right in the eye and keeps her expression completely neutral, but there's something about her that's screaming for me to stop. Shame I never listen to what I'm supposed to do.
"Guess you and Luke are made for each other then". Haley sucks in sharply and looked around the room. I notice that the spare seat beside Dorky Rory has been taken by an unfortunate tennis player. I remember her to be Cassie Bourke, I laid her last summer.
Haley swallows and leans back in her chair.
"Suppose you can't escape that easily," I cockily smirk, purposefully leaning onto her desk. She looks uncomfortable and I notice Brooke scowling at me. Time to cool off.
"Ok Class, welcome to American Literature. I'm your teacher for this semester, Mr. Gary Dawes but you can call me Gary…"
"Why would we want to?" I ask loudly, and smile at the chuckles I receive. I turn towards Haley and she's scowling at me. As soon as I turn to her she flicks her eyes back towards the teacher and opens her eyes wide, as in she's listening. I shake my head and turn towards the front of the class.
"Thankyou Scott. I see we're going to be great friends. But for those of you in here who aren't juvenile delinquents, I'll continue my introduction. America has spurned out many fantastic writers, Salinger, Steinbeck. Just some of the better known".
"J.K Rowling," Kevin Foster shouts from the back row. I laugh at that.
"She's British you idiot," Rory turns and says bravely. Kevin Foster is 6'1 of raring energy and hard muscle. He's the hero of the Tree Hill football team. Obviously not as well known as the basketball team but still pretty good.
"It's a she?" I put in, trying to diffuse the situation for the second time today. Call me crazy but I don't want any fights on my first day. They're reserved for second. Everybody, including Kevin and surprisingly Haley join in the laughter, and I turn to the front again.
"Oh, this is going to be another fantastic year," Mr. Dawes mutters to himself despairingly, and I crack another smile.
