A/N: I thank you, if you have been reading and reviewing my fic, it's been a honour! All your opinions matter, so I really do love knowing what you guys think about where I'm going with this fic! (: Hope you like this one!
Pt. 4 – Spiral
"This is crazy," Haley murmured under her breath. "Why do I even agree to her nonsense?" Mel had left her a yellow memo on her computer screen saying, 'Four more days to date!' They'd already been shopping for a new dress, shoes, jewellery, make-up and underwear. Yes, underwear. For a single blind date. Haley had almost drew the line at getting the sexy black lace garments that Mel had immediately zeroed in on. "A girl cannot have enough 'come get me' underwear, Lil," Mel had so huffily whispered under her breath. If Mel hadn't looked so happy while shopping for all the items, and dolling her up, Haley would have put her foot down a long time ago. Now, as a consequence of not stopping her, Haley had a dwindling figures in her bank account to deal with.
Suddenly, her phone beeped once, vibrating as it spiralled around and around on her dark brown mahogany desk. Haley flipped it open and read the text message from Peyton.
'Will not be back for dinner tonight. Jake back in town. Do not expect me home :) '
Haley grinned as she read it, quickly texting a reply after that. Peyton and her shared a nice apartment in downtown Boston, small but cosy, and just enough for the both of them. But Peyton usually spent a few nights at Jake's when his job brought him back in town to Boston. She still remembered her shock during her first year in Harvard when she had run into Peyton, a visiting cheerleader during one of the games, her blonde hair as curly as ever. Peyton, the least cheery person she'd known, and the furthest away from the typical cheerleader stereotype, had miraculously stuck with cheerleading after high school, even through college in North Carolina and even after she'd gotten a scholarship to Boston University to study art history. They had quickly caught up, their friendship as ever lasting as before, and had decided to share an apartment after graduation. Peyton still drew beautifully, and had recently headlined a show at a modern art museum. She had always moaned and complained about the lack of the good music and dead performing scene in Boston, and finally like the Peyton Sawyer she'd always been, decided to do something about it. The success of Tric in Tree Hill had given her an idea, and once she got an idea, she never rested. The opening of the very first branch of Tric was due in two week's time.
Jake, on the other hand, never strayed too far away from the game he loved; after graduating from Boone with a degree in sporting communications, he became a PR rep for the Boston Celtics. He had had to move to Boston after he got the job, inadvertently keeping his promise to never be too far away from Peyton. He did have to travel with the team to away games, which was difficult, but he managed to work things out with Peyton, and the two of them had a happy relationship, with Jenny in the mix, who stayed with an aunt of Jake's while he was away.
"Haley?" Liz, the receptionist at the music school knocked on her partially open office door, shaking her out of her thoughts. "Your four o'clock appointment is here. The new student."
Haley looked up, startled. "I'll be right out. Bring him to the room, will you?" Liz nodded, and went away.
She stood up, stretching, trying to clear her mind of thoughts. She never taught with a heavy mind, it wasn't fair to the student. She misplayed plenty of notes when she was absent-mindedly thinking about other things, and it wasn't good for a teacher to do that; neither was it good for the reputation of the school. Wiping her hands on her skirt, she walked out of her office and down the hallway to one of the many classes there were, stopping at the open glass door and the end.
A little boy, with a mop of golden blonde hair, sat inside nervously, fiddling with his thumbs. He wore a blue T-shirt with pictures of white airplanes, of all shapes and types, printed all over it. The end of the shirt was messily tucked into blue jeans which were rolled up at the ankle to show scuffed white Nike trainers.
"Hello, there," Haley walked in, taking a seat opposite the boy. "How're you doing?" she smiled warmly, trying to make him feel at ease. It never was easy for a first lesson. Plenty of the students the school received were young children, whose parents had insisted on music lessons. The first time, the children's first encounter with music was awfully vital; it could either spark an interest, or turn them away.
He looked up at her, blinking solemnly, with big beautiful blue eyes. He had the face of an angel, with rosy red cheeks. The blonde tuft of hair on his head stuck up in many different directions, unruly. "Okay," he mumbled. "She told me that your name was Mrs. Scott," he said, referring to Liz.
Haley nodded. "Yep, that's me. But you," she reached out an ruffled his hair, making it even messier than it had been before. "You can call me, Haley, okay?" she smiled easily down at him.
Suddenly he beamed. "Haley, that's a pretty name. It's like a doll's."
"Why, thank you," she laughed. "Aren't you such a little charmer, now? So, what's your name, kiddo?"
He suddenly grinned from ear to ear, showing off a missing tooth. "It's Elvis."
"Elvis," Haley said incredulously, a small uncontrollable giggle escaping from her throat. "Like Elvis Presley, the king of Jailhouse Rock?"
He nodded, bobbing his head up and down quickly. "That's what I call myself," he beamed. "But Mommy says I mustn't. I'm Michael Daniel, but you can call me Mike. My last name's Scott, just like yours."
"Mike it is, then," Haley said smiling wryly to herself. It wasn't an uncommon last name, that was for sure. She'd encountered plenty of Scotts over the years. Too many to count. But still, one stood out the most. "So Mike," she walked over to the piano seat and patted it gently. "Have you played before?"
He walked over to her, looking a little worried as he hoisted himself up on the seat. "Nope. But," his eyes grew wider, excitedly. "Haven't you ever felt like you couldn't do something, but always wanted to?" he asked slowly, stumbling a little over the long question, but at the same time, that childlike innocence was evident in his voice.
She smiled. "I only know the feeling all too well."
"Do you think I can play like you one day, Haley?" Mike asked, bouncing up and down on the piano seat. The little boy was a little bundle of energy on two cute stubby legs, still energized even after an hour of a piano lesson, which was usually long enough to keep the short attention spans of children at bay.
"With a teacher like me, I'm sure you will," Haley joked with him, smiling herself as she watched him laugh hysterically at her words. Mike had been a pleasure to teach, he listened when she spoke, and played like she showed him how to. He learnt fast, and picked up the sounds of the different notes quickly. "Very soon, too." She had taught many over the past year, only to know that what Mike had was a special talent. Not many five year olds played like he did, only after a single lesson.
"Do you think I can make songs?" his eyes were wide with hope.
"Write songs," Haley corrected him. "And you will, Mike. It's going to just come naturally for you, one day." i I just hope it comes again for me one day too /i , she thought to herself.
He nodded, pleased with the answer that Haley gave him. His little fingers stretched over the white keys again, and he began playing one of the simple melodies that Haley had just taught him. "I listen to a lot of music," he said, suddenly. "And so does my daddy. But my mommy doesn't. She doesn't like it."
"Your daddy like Elvis?" Haley asked, smiling. Someone must have been playing the kid a whole lot of Elvis to explain the young boy's fixation on the music legend.
His eyes lit up. "No, but my granddad does, and he says I'm not supposed to tell anyone about it. I think daddy would laugh at him if he knew," he flashed a wide toothy grin, and then held up his little pinky. "Promise me you won't tell a soul?"
Haley caught his little pinky with her much bigger one and mimed zipping her lips. "Not a single soul," she said. Mike sounded so happy when he talked about his family, about his parents. He was probably their little precious son. She wondered, letting herself away for a little while, what it would feel like to have a kid like Mike. If things had been different, she may already know what it felt like, not having to resort to her imagination.
"My daddy listens to this one singer a lot," Mike continued, oblivious to Haley's detachment. "He won't tell me her name, though. I won't sleep unless he plays her songs to me."
"You're very close to your daddy, Mike?"
He beamed proudly. "I love him very much. But he's not at home often. Because of work. Mommy's not around much either. I don't know why. So Grandma takes care of me." He looked down at his shoes. "We just moved here, because Daddy is going to work here now. He plays basketball and he's very good. And very fast. I can get his autograph for you if you want."
Haley felt her heartstrings pull as she looked down into his sad face. This little boy deserved more than parents who weren't around much. His parents were barely with him, and yet he sounded so proud, and so happy when he talked about his father. Little boys of their age idolised their dads, and Mike was no exception.
"I am lonely, sometimes. But then, I always listen to music," he spoke on, his voice getting softer as he went on. "Then, it's okay."
Haley bit down on her lower lip, almost feeling tears in her eyes. "You'll be okay, Mike."
Liz knocked on the door, "An hour's up, Haley. Someone's here to pick Mike up."
Haley nodded and turned to the boy. "Come on kiddo, time to go home."
"Must I go now, Haley?" he asked, a slight pout visible.
"You're coming back next week, you've got a next lesson," Haley said, as she felt her heart breaking. She stood up, taking his small hand into hers and leading him out into the main lounge where parents waited for their children.
"Your son is very talented, Mr. Scott," she started to say as they both neared the man, who was standing with his back to them.
The man turned around. And, suddenly she felt as though the words she had been so carefully planning to say had all just dissolved into thin air. She didn't know it yet, but from that very instant, her life would spiral out of control.
He blinked, in disbelief. "You," he finally said, simply.
A/N: Will update soon, I promise. I know it's a bit of a cliffhanger, but do drop me a review telling me what you think of it! Much love, Wendy.