Hey, thanks to everyone whos reviewed and been reading so far. Sorry its kind of rough, im pretty new at this. I know that the chapters have been quite short, but once all the stories introductory chapters are finished and it gets into the more dramatic parts I'll try and make the rest of the chapters a bit longer.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 2

Not many 15 year olds in Tree Hill had jobs. But Ollie did, every Saturday and some days after school she worked at Karen's Cafe as a waitress. Today was fairly quiet though so she was in the kitchen just chilling. She thought about last night at the river court and smiled at the memory of thrashing her dad at one on one. Her father still loved basketball, she had seen some of his play tapes from high school, and he had been good. Really good. Yet when it came to playing her he almost always let her win.

"What's got you so far away?" asked her boss Karen smiling warmly at her.

"Oh, it's nothing", she answered returning the smile.

Karen was her Uncle Luke's mom. To Ollie she was more like a surrogate grandmother than a boss. When she'd been young and Nathan had been at college and later at work as a basketball coach Karen had often looked after her. As far as Ollie knew her family had always been close, apart from her grandfather who had died in prison just after she was born, and her own mother. She and her dad were always over at her Uncle Luke's and Aunt Peyton's babysitting their three kids or just hanging out and her dads mom Deb came to Tree Hill for every birthday and holiday without fail. So far as she was concerned no one was missing from her life at all.

"Chicken Panini, table 4", the chef called from the kitchen.

Picking up the order, Ollie headed toward table four. She had a habit of always checking who the people she was waitressing for were, just in case she needed to prepare herself for awkward conversation, or even the possibility of having food thrown at her by a cheeky kid. The person was partially obscured by the booth, she knew it wasn't a child but she couldn't make out who it was, as she moved toward the booth the person turned and looked directly at her.

"Oh My God" she breathed nearly dropping the food she was holding.

"30 suicides", shouted Nathan to his team, The Tree Hill Ravens, "speed it up."

As Nathan watched his team, the blue banner hanging from the gym ceiling caught his eye, North Carolina High School Boys Basketball, State Champions, 2004, it read. At the time that banner was hung, playing basketball in the NBA had been his only dream.

In his first year of junior college, scouts from all the best colleges watched his games, wanted him for their teams. He turned them all down. Everyone was shocked. He knew people were always gossiping about how the hotshot basketball star had turned down the opportunities of a life time. But Nathan didn't care what any of the no-life gossipers were saying. Because his dream had changed when one day he taught his daughter the game he loved. That's when he realised his dream wasn't to play and be the best. It was to teach others to love the game as much as he did.

Noticing the team finishing up their suicides, he called them in.

"Good work to day guys. I think we've got this weeks game." Slapping hands with the boys in his team, they cheered and laughed at the thought of winning, again, before they headed into the locker room. Nathan chuckled and finished packing away the rest of the balls.

Soon he heard the last of the boys leaving and glanced around the silent gym. His jersey as well as his mentor Whitey Durham's still hung on the wall, now accompanied by jerseys from members of more recent teams. Soon he hoped his teams jerseys would join them.

The legacy of the Tree Hill Ravens was still going strong.

He switched off the main light watching the bulbs turn off one at a time in a long wave until he was standing shrouded in the darkness and silence of the place where he became the man he was today.

Smiling slightly, he headed to his car.

A small private jet was currently flying through the air somewhere between New York and Washington. It was a windy day and as a particularly strong gust hit the side of the jet, Haley James awoke from her slumber. Glancing around at the flash but empty compartment, she realised she must have dozed off. On her lap lay her latest album, Goodnight Goodbye, that had been released just before the tour she was currently on. From L.A. to New York she'd performed 9 concerts in the past two weeks. Now she was on her way to Washington to perform her second to last concert, ever. She was also on the way to Washington to officially announce her departure from the music business. She was saying goodbye. Then after Washington, one final concert, Tree Hill, North Carolina. That is where she was going to end her musical career forever.

In just 2 days she would be home to perform, once more, on the first stage she ever performed on, in front of the first people she ever performed to. She knew that she needed to make up for her mistakes; she just hoped it wouldn't be as hard as she had a feeling it was going to be.

Hearing some one approaching she peered behind her to where the footsteps were coming from.

"Hey Chris" Haley said as he perched down in the chair next to her.

"Ah, I see you've woken up. Been dreaming about the Keller? Chris smirked cockily.

Haley rolled her eyes, "Yeah right Chris. Are we nearly there?"

" 'Bout a half hour away." He had a look of inspiration on his face. With Chris this was never such a good thing, "So, I was thinking that we should have an encore concert in L.A. the day after the Carolina gig. I know its short notice but I've got a venue and with door sales it'll be sold out. Its all set.

"Chris!" Haley seethed exasperatedly, "Look, I've already told you, after we've performed in Tree Hill that is it for me, no more recording, no more albums and no more tours or concerts. I'm done!"

Chris smirked and raised his eyebrows, "Not like I haven't heard that before James, you've said that every tour is going to be your last, yet you keep coming back to the Keller."

"Not this time," Haley muttered as she turned away from Chris and plugged in her iPod, blocking out the sounds of what her life had become.



"Oh My God" she breathed nearly dropping the food she was holding.

The person at the booth had dark brown hair that hung into his equally dark eyes. He was wearing a grey vintage Radiohead t-shirt over his lanky frame and was looking directly at her grinning ear to ear.

"Ephraim Davis!" Ollie shrieked dumping the tray on the table and flinging her arms around his neck, "Why didn't you tell me you were here?"

"Surprise" Ephraim laughed wrapping his arms around Ollie and returning the hug.

"How's New York? How long are you here? Where are you staying? Is Brooke here? Have you moved back?" Ollie questioned frantically.

"Whoa, slow down there buddy" he chuckled holding her at arms length with his hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes.

Ollie let out a breath and sank into the booth next to him. "I missed you Rai".

"Er, not that I didn't miss you too Ollie, but I think you're meant to be serving me my coffee", He joked noticing Karen watching their exchange, as Ollie whacked him on the arm.

She stood up, playfully poked her tongue out at him, turned on her heel and quickly walked back to the kitchen.

"Ollie?" she heard Karen call.

Ollie turned with a guilty look to face Karen, "sorry."

"Oh don't be silly sweetie; you can have the rest of the day off if you want to. It's quiet today anyway."

"Seriously? Thank you so much Karen, you're the best!" Ollie gushed. "I promise I'll make up the hours."

Karen nodded, "Go, have fun" she said nudging Ollie out of the kitchen toward Ephraim's table.

Karen stood behind the bench and watched as the two kids' one with an arm over the others shoulders, both with massive grins on their faces left the cafe.

What really got to her though was how much these two kids were so much like certain two other kids were at their age. And knowing how her own son ended up in that friendship, she couldn't help but feel slightly worried.