A/N: Hi everyone! I hope everyone had a wonderful Easter weekend. Mine was pretty swell. I was on a sugar high the whole weekend. I'm still trying to regain consciousness. lol And I noticed that not a lot of people replied to the last chapter. I know that it was short and just lacked NALEYNESS, but it was needed for the story. But I'm making it up to you in this chapter. There's totally more NALEY and OLIVIA/HALEY bonding. And for those of you who don't like Brooke in the story, you'll be happy with this chapter. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW. I'd like to know what you think of it! ENJOY!

-Annie

Chapter 7//Mad About the Boy

"Grams, how many cups of sugar do I add?" I asked as I stood in the kitchen trying to create molten lava cakes.

It's my third week here and I was still learning how to perfect the simplest of desserts for the bakery. The molten lava cake was the last thing I had to create before I was really allowed to bake anything for anybody. Everyone's been telling me that I've been doing great -still a few egg shells here and there- but other than that, they said I was improving. I just hoped it was good enough for the customers. I didn't want to scare away any of them. Since the bakery was closed today, I decided to practice back at Olivia's house.

"Gram!?" I called out again as I started searching through her kitchen drawers for the measuring cups.

"Yes, Haley?" she replied as she entered the kitchen. I turned to her and saw her leaning against the door frame, looking washed out.

"Where are your measuring cups?" I asked, turning back around. I opened another drawer and started rummaging through the utensils trying to find what I needed. "I can't seem to find them."

I heard her foot steps glide across the room and I glanced up. She opened one of the top drawers and grabbed all of the measuring cups. "Sorry, I forgot to tell you where they were," she said, placing them on the island. "Most of my baking material is up here in this cabinet. If you need anything else, it's in here," she added motioning towards the opened cabinet which had almost everything you would need for baking.

"Oh thanks," I smiled. I gathered all the ingredients together and observed them as I thought which ingredient I was supposed to start with. Olivia still stood beside me, watching me and observing me like a professor. She was my boss, after all. But it was kind of nerve wracking. It was like I was being tested. Good thing she was also my grandmother - someone who didn't judge me or criticize for all my faults. I could make one mistake in this batch, and she wouldn't dare scold me or yell at me. She would tell me, "Try again, sweetie. Just one more time," and then everything would be fine again.

"The chocolate," Olivia stated, softly.

"Oh, right!" I snapped. She let out a giggle as I reached out to grab the chocolate candies.

"Did you have fun with Brooke and Peyton last night?" she asked as I grabbed a small pot from one of the bottom cabinets.

"Oh, yeah it was fun. I only hung out with Peyton though," I answered as I took the pot with me towards the sink. I turned the faucet on and started filling the pot half way up. "Brooke had something more important to do. I think she still hates me. I don't know what I did, but I really don't care anymore." I turned the faucet off and walked up to the stove, placed it on top, and turned the knob on high.

Yesterday was supposed to be our girl bonding night. Peyton told me that it was mandatory for all of us to show up, but Brooke decided to go somewhere else. I wasn't surprised that she didn't come because everywhere I seemed to be, she would find the nearest exit. I think I have some sort of disease that she didn't want to catch or maybe she was allergic to my clothing, hair, or maybe even my feet. Whatever it was, whether it was about her insecurities or thought that I was the devil, I wasn't going to let it phase me.

Although Brooke put a little damper on Peyton's night -knowing that she was her best friend and all- we decided to just have a night of our own. She invited me over to her house at the plantation. It was even more beautiful in the inside. She had this long set of stairs with a beautiful glossy finish on the banister. I even saw the clay replica of the Pieta that Ellie was talking about. It was placed in the living area for all to see and it was utterly impressive. The walls of the house were an off-white color with fancy molding. Portraits were hung from wall to wall. There was even one where a young Peyton was running along this large green lawn in a fancy yellow dress. The photographer captured it perfectly with her blonde hair flowing in the air as if it was painted there. She said that the picture was taken one summer in England where she visited her grandparents' house. It was the last summer that she ever spent in England. Now the only time she would visit them was once every two years for Christmas. She told me she didn't even know them anymore.

I was sad for her because she lost touch with them, but it made me feel appreciative for my grandmother. Olivia actually wanted to stay in touch with me, even if it had to be through letters. She made a promise to me that we would always have each other even if we were living on two different sides of the country. E-mails and phone calls were too easy. E-mails could be deleted and phone calls were just phone calls. Letters meant so much more because you could reread the words, the memories and really get a feel of the emotion that was written on that paper. It was old-fashioned, but it kept us connected through all these years.

Peyton and I spent time listening to her incredible vinyl collection that she had displayed on this tall shelf. I was in a state of shock from all the bands that she had. She had almost every classic rock band on vinyl, even the ones from when my grandmother was a teenager. I couldn't believe my eyes and ears when she started playing them on her bad-ass record player.

As I was lying on her bed looking through the sketches, I started asking her about Nathan. I didn't want to sound like I was interested even though Peyton already knew that I had a developing crush on him. No matter how hard I tried to keep my feelings for Nathan platonic, I ended up liking him anyways. Every time he was around, smiling with his perfect lips, I felt a twitch in the pit of my stomach. I don't know what it was, but it felt kind of gratifying. I just had to know what his love life was like, and if he was more than what I had imagined.

"Nathan's a real gentleman," she began."He's been kind to every girl he has ever dated, except for the clingy ones. Clingy ones are obviously one of his pet peeves. They just push him away and annoy him." I laughed at that. "But he wasn't interested in all of them. There were only about one or two girls in the past that he actually grew really fond of. Unfortunately, further down the road, they weren't the type of girls he thought they were."

"Clingy?" I asked.

"No. He told me that they weren't right for him, like he couldn't imagine himself being with them more than a year."

"Oh, so he has relationship problems then."

She shook her head as she was reorganizing her vinyl collection. "Nathan doesn't have relationship problems. He's just the type of guy who likes girls a lot." She laughed. "But he never seems to find the right one, you know what I mean?"

I sat up from the bed, placed her sketch book on my lap and nodded. I thought about Aaron Armstrong and the boy before him. Both who have broken my heart, hurting me through our short term relationships, and figuring out that they weren't the guys I thought they were either.

"I know exactly what you mean."

She smiled at me as she slid one of her vinyl into its case and pushing it back into her collection.

"He also has this weird thing about offering rides in his car," she stated. "He has this tendency to always meet up with girls at a location or at a party rather than picking them up at their houses. Sometimes he would pick them up; either in Lucas's car or my car with someone else inside, but never in his car alone. He rarely lets someone ride in his precious baby with just him," she said. "Which makes you special," she added, smiling at me.

I thought about our ride the other night, listening and jamming to his CDs as we talked about our favorite musicians. I remember it clearly, watching him steer the wheel coolly; smirking at me while he looked at my direction. The silence wasn't half bad either. I was oddly thrilled to know that I was one of the few girls that Nathan Scott offered a ride to. Thinking about it almost made my stomach flip.

"Are you blushing?" Peyton asked, leaning against her shelf.

"No!" I snapped, hiding my face from her.

"Yes, you are," she smiled.

"Whatever. Maybe it's your room. I think it's getting stuffy in here. I should advise you to turn on your air conditioner."

She let out a laugh as I returned back to her sketch book.

"But if you wanted to know, I think he's interested in you," she stated again. "Not that you would care at all, since I know you won't admit that you actually like him, but I just wanted to let you know that."

I didn't look up at her when she mentioned that because somehow my lips were forming a smile. I tried to hide it by covering it with my mouth as I flipped through the pages of her sketch book. I also wanted to stop myself from smiling because I didn't want to get my hopes up. Not this summer and not with Nathan. I didn't want to wear my heart on my sleeve because that was a disaster waiting to happen.

As I was preparing the ingredients for the lava cake – with Olivia still guiding me through the process – the home phone rang. She jogged towards the wireless phone that was hanging on the wall and answered it

"Hello?" she greeted. "Yes, this is Olivia." I glanced at her as I watched the chocolate melt above the pot of water. She gave me a smile before she focused back to the voice on the other side of the phone.

"Oh," she said. "Well. . ." she said as the low voice began to speak on the other side. She let out one of her scratchy coughs again and tried to clear her throat. She was definitely catching something. For the past week, she's been complaining about how painful it was to swallow. She's been trying to drink more liquids, but somehow it wasn't working. I tried to convince her to visit the doctor, but she refused to go. "We're closed today, but I can kindly take your order for you," she smiled. She walked towards one of her cabinet drawers and grabbed a pen and paper.

"Okay. . . chocolate and vanilla swirl . . . with butter cream icing. . . two layers. . . chocolate bow. Would that be it?" she asked, as she started scribbling the order on the paper. "Happy . . . Birthday Beatrice, alrighty. I have it written down. K, bye!"

As I was stirring the chocolate, I couldn't help but noticed how happy my grandmother looked even though she was looking sickly. I remember her coughing that one day when we were shopping, but then she said it was just from her sore throat. I'm guessing her soar throat was getting the best of her.

"I guess we have an order due for tomorrow," she stated, walking away from the phone. "Are you up for the challenge?"

I glanced at her as she turned on the faucet to wash her hands. "Um, I don't know. I don't want to make a mistake," I replied hesitantly.

"You won't," she replied. "I'll just ask Eliza to help you out here and there, but I think this would be a good start in the business," she said. I noticed that she tried to swallow and she squinted when she rubbed her throat.

"Yeah, let's pray that I do a good job," I smiled, still looking at her concerned.

"Of course you will," she said slowly. "Um, I think I'm going to lie down, sweetie. I'm feeling a little ill." I nodded as she started walking toward the kitchen door, then she turned back around. "I have the recipe for the lava cake in the cabinet, follow them carefully. I don't want the Scott brothers coming over here to water down a burning house." I laughed and promised to read the directions. Then she left, squinting as she tried to swallow again.

After combining all the ingredients together and following the directions just like I promised, I poured the batter into separate custard cups. I filled up about 6, placed them on a metal tray and slid them inside the oven. As I set the timer, I cleaned up my mess and searched for Olivia. I just wanted to see if she was feeling okay. She was really worrying me. Someone of her age getting sick can be critical.

I peeked through the living room and found her lying on the couch, on her right side with her eyes closed. I walked closer to her quietly. I knelt down in front of her on the couch, moving the piece of hair that had fallen on her face. The moment I touched her skin, it was hot, almost burning up. I slowly placed the back of my hand against her forehead, then cheek and I just knew something was wrong. I heard her move a little bit and then moan.

I immediately headed for the kitchen. I glanced at the cakes in the oven to make sure they were okay, and then I grabbed a big bowl from one of the cabinets. I packed the bowl with handfuls of ice and washed it over with cold water. Then I grabbed a clean towel from the linen closet and came back into the living room where she lay.

"Haley, what are you doing?" she asked, awakened from her nap.

I kneeled down, placing the bowl next to me and soaked the small towel into the icy water. "You're burning up. I need to cool you down," I answered as I twisted the water out of the towel and placed it over her head. "I don't want you to get sick on me, Grams. "

I gently placed the towel on her forehead, letting the iciness cool down the warmth of her skin. As I was holding it down, I heard her laugh.

"You worry too much," she stated.

"How could I not? You're my grandmother whom I haven't seen in years and I really don't want you fading out on me now."

"I'm not going to die, munchkin. I just have a fever."

"What if it's pneumonia? Or heart disease? Or leukemia!? You know how those stories go. Granddaughter visits her long lost grandmother, but finds out that she's ill and she dies and there's no more memories to make," I stated in one breath. I always had the tendency to ramble about the impossible, always thinking of reasons for every situation. Some that are a bit exaggerated and some that don't even make sense. I make my self scared of something that I shouldn't be scared of.

Olivia looked at me with her wrinkly eyes, shook her head amused by my overreaction. Then she lifted hand and softly caressed my cheek and said, "Sweetie, I wouldn't bring you here for the summer just to spend time with me because I'm deathly ill – which I'm not. I'm probably the healthiest old lady in town, but I do get sick sometimes. I get fevers, headaches, and body aches, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to drop dead right at that moment."

I pouted, letting out a big sigh and placed my chin against the cushion beside her. "You're right. I worry too much." She started petting my hair as I watched her like she was a precious gem. She is getting older and someday she will die, and that's what scares me the most. Knowing that she's closer to death than I am makes my heart ache. We've been apart for eleven years, writing to each other in pen and paper, without seeing each other in person. Now, we finally get that chance to be grandmother and granddaughter. Summer is only two and half months – for me at least. And somehow I feel like that's not enough for me.

I sat there for a while and then realized that I had the cakes still in the oven. I hurried off the floor and rushed into the kitchen. Thank God that it had just about one minute left. So I stood there, waiting for the seconds to go down and I took out the tree. The aroma of the cakes smelled incredible as I placed them on the counter. I had the slightest feeling that I made these perfectly with no egg shells in sight. I turned off the oven, and kept the tray there until the cakes were cool enough to eat. I grabbed a glass of water for Olivia and returned to the living.

She certainly looked like the fever was taking over. At first, it seemed like she couldn't even tell that she was heating up. I guess that happens sometimes. I remember when I was younger and I had a temperature of 103 and didn't even realize how sick I was until a few hours later. She gently grabbed the glass of water from me and took a few sips of it.

"Thank you, honey," she said. "I can smell the cakes from here. I already know they are going to be phenomenal." I smiled and sat myself at the end of the couch, near her feet.

"Gram, I don't have to go in tomorrow. I'll stay here and take care of you."

"No. You can't take off on your first day of work. Who do you think you are? The boss's granddaughter?" I laughed and patted her leg.

"But I don't want to leave you here, alone. That would make me a bad grandchild."

"Oh hush, you are not," she replied. "You are a good grandchild." I rested my head against the couch and smiled at her. "You are the only one that I've gotten to know the best. Out of all of my grandchildren, you are the one that I could relate to the most. It's like you are me when I was younger; intelligent, beautiful, and . . . scared."

------

Olivia was getting worse throughout the night, coughing and vomiting like no other. I just couldn't leave her like this. It was impossible. I felt like something worse was going on in her body, she just didn't want to tell me. But maybe I'm worrying too much like she said I was, or maybe my conscious was right.

I slept in the living room during the night, making sure she was okay. I didn't get a lot of sleep because I didn't want to take my eyes off her. Sometimes she shook in her slumber like she was freezing so I would add a few more layers of blankets over her. A couple times, I would refill the icy water and then replace the towel against her forehead again. And it was repeated throughout the night. She wasn't shivering anymore, and somehow her fever was going down. It wasn't normal yet, but it was reaching to a point where it didn't worry me as much.

Soon enough the sun rose. It shined through the windows, stinging my eyes in the process. I had trouble opening them from my lack of sleep. I had slept on the recliner near the television with a thin blanket over me because the floor was too hard. I glanced towards Olivia and found her still sound asleep. I noticed her chest moving up and down normally and I was satisfied. The towel that used to be on her forehead was now against her cushion beneath her shoulder and I climbed off the recliner to pick it up.

Today was the day that I was going to start my summer job as a real employee at MO's bakery. I was nervous and happy at the same time. I had tasted the molten lava cakes I made last night and impressed myself. Olivia didn't get to eat any since she was too sick to eat. But if she wasn't, she would've been proud.

I hurried up the stairs to take a shower and dressed up for the day. Then I returned downstairs and found Olivia slightly awake. She turned the television on to one of her favorite sitcoms.

"Are you feeling better?" I asked, pinning my bangs back.

"Slightly," she replied with a raspy voice. "Are you excited?"

"Kind of. I'm a little nervous."

"You'll be great. Just ask Eliza or Jon or even Merriam for help. I'm sure they'll be kind enough to offer you some."

"Thanks, Gram." I replied. I walked over to her and grabbed her empty glass, ready to fill it back up with water. "I'm going to call someone to watch you. Is that okay?"

"Um," she began as if she was thinking of someone in particular. "Can you call Jim?" she asked.

I looked at her confused. "Who's Jim?" I asked curiously.

"Oh he's a friend of mine. He just lives down the street."

I smirked at her, lifting an eyebrow. "You never told me about a Jim. Did you forget to mention him?" I asked, intriguingly.

"Haley, just call the man, please," she replied, almost as if she was trying to hide something from me. I couldn't help but feel very entertained by this. If this was some man she was crushing over, I wanted to know more details immediately. "He's a retired doctor and he sometimes helps me when I'm ill."

"You got a personal doctor now?"

She rolled her eyes at me and told me Jim's number. When he arrived moments before I left, I couldn't help but notice the light that appeared in Olivia's eyes. I've never seen her so enthused to see a person of the opposite sex before. Maybe this was what her face looked like when she was around Grandpa. Jim was a kind and handsome man. He looked a bit younger than Olivia, not that it would matter since they were both old, ha. He came in wearing a brown sweater, with a blue collared shirt peeking from underneath. He looked well groomed. His hair was blonde, a really light blonde that was almost white. His eyes were like Nathan's – a greenish blue shade. But somehow deep inside of me I didn't want her with him. I felt like she was betraying Grandpa by finding a certain attraction towards Jim. Who am I kidding? You can't help who you fall for.

When I arrived to the bakery, I immediately found Nathan dozing off on his chair by the register. I slowly walked closer, without making a noise and leaned over to poke him in the rib.

"Hey sleepy!" I greeted, loudly. He quickly jumped out of consciousness and looked at me, wide eyed.

". . . 'the hell!" he exclaimed. I leaned back and waited until he found reality again. Then he glanced at me, squinting. "Hey," he finally greeted.

"Rough night?" I asked.

"I was on call yesterday. Lucas and I were putting down a fire over at Trinity street. It took a couple of hours to put down."

"Was it huge?"

"Nah, it was small, but the fire just wouldn't budge. It was later in the evening and I was already tired from playing basketball with the guys," he answered as he grabbed a chocolate from the oh-so familiar candy basket.

I sighed deeply. "That stinks. Hopefully we can both catch some sleep soon."

"You had a rough night too?" he asked, looking up with his irresistible blue eyes. They looked different this time, almost as if they were brighter than they usually were. Maybe it was because my feelings towards Nathan were more than platonic now and it's making me look at him differently.

"Yeah, I was up all night watching over Grams. She's sick to the bone," I answered.

"Poor, Olivia," he replied as he put the chocolate into his mouth. "Wait, she's sick and you're here? Why aren't you with her right now?" he asked curiously.

"She didn't want me to miss my first day on the job. Just because I was related to one of the owner's of the bakery doesn't mean I get special privileges." I lifted one eyebrow at him, reminding him of our first encounter. He noticed and stuck his tongue at me. "Plus, she asked me to call this Jim guy to stay with her until I got back." I walked around the counter and grabbed myself an apron and wrapped it around my waist. My back was towards him as I struggled to a tie a knot.

"Jim Bob." I heard him say.

"Huh?" I asked.

"That's his name." And for some reason his voice was now much closer. I could feel his energy behind me; his breaths now clear. Out of nowhere I started feel my blood rushing through my veins causing me to warm up underneath my skin. When he gathered the strings my hands, I felt this sudden jolt between our fingers. It was almost electric. Then I felt him tug the two strings from the apron together and managed to tie the knot that I was struggling to make. He smelled like fresh laundry detergent and expensive cologne. I knew a lot of guys who wore cologne, a lot of it, and it always made me sneeze. But Nathan wore it right. He didn't have too much or too little. It was perfect.

I turned around, smiling up at him. "Thanks," I said. Right then, things were a bit hazy. We were so close to each other that if we moved an inch, we would practically be touching. He was looking at me differently, like he was observing every pore on my skin. Then I started to get uncomfortable so I quickly looked away from him.

"Jim Bob, huh?" I questioned, stepping back and pulling my hair up in a pony tail. "You know him?"

I looked at him, still standing where I had left him. He appeared to be in the middle of shock – stunned and confused at the same time- just like me. Then he shook off whatever thoughts were rolling in his mind and glanced at me.

"Yeah, um, he's a regular customer."

"Really? I never noticed."

"It's because you're always in the kitchen training," he replied, settling back down onto his seat behind the register. "It's hard to spot him. He arrives around 1:15 in the afternoon almost every other day to grab a chocolate éclair, his favorite. He would talk to Olivia for a few moments, exchanging small talk and then he would take off."

"Are they . . ., " I began.

"It seems like it," he cut in with a smirk. "They're always flirting like they're teenagers," he added, almost looking disgusted then his expression disappeared and he turned to me. "It's almost kind of cute."

I stared at him for a moment, our eyes connecting as if we were destined to and then I thought to myself that I shouldn't be having moments like these. I had a few of them before -moments that were so endearing and pleasant that it made my heart ache – but I had them at the beginning. Beginnings were always so subtle and vague. We get so lost in the moment and attraction that we forget what we're actually looking for; truth and love. Maybe I'm just lusting over Nathan because of his good looks and admirable qualities, but then something else is luring me towards him. It was the way he joked around with me, always making his way to keep a conversation going, and never losing interest; the way he wanted me to find confidence in myself and advising me to read people better like he was helping me; and his courage. I was so confused right now. The only thing that I truly knew was that I had feelings for Nathan. I just refused to show it.

"So when are you going to sing to me?" he asked, leaning forward on the counter.

"I'm still thinking about it," I answered.

"You know you have to do it, right?" he asked. "I'm not taking 'no' for an answer. I completely refuse to let you say no," he stated, smirking at me.

I scoffed. "You can't force me to do something that I don't want to do."

"It's your fault." I looked at him confused. "You made me think that you were actually going to sing to me. And you made me wait too long, so now you really have to do it."

I rolled my eyes, annoyed. "Are you kidding me? I will not."

"Maybe not today, but soon."

I glared at him playfully and stuck my tongue out at him. "If I sing to you, you have to sing to me then." I smiled. At first, he looked surprised like I hit him right in the gut then his lips grew into a thin line.

"Fine," he agreed. "But don't be shocked if I sing better than you," he added.

I let out a loud giggle. "I'll try not to be impressed."

"Haley!" I heard Eliza call out. We both turned towards the entrance of the kitchen and then turned back to each other.

"I forgot, I'm a working woman now."

"Yep, now chop, chop! You have a cake to bake!" he smirked. "The world is depending on you."