I've been really spoiling you guys with these quick updates, huh? I've had a lot of time and plus, I'm super excited to finally get to this part of the story. This chapter and the next are HUGE. Although, the next chapter is considerably bigger. But they go hand-in-hand. You're gonna love me at some points, and you're gonna hate me at other points. Just trust the process. Have I ever let you guys down before?
Important info..sort of: I know some of you have expressed concern about Nathan's behavior towards Haley in the last chapter and I know that some of you aren't going to agree with what Nathan does in the coming chapters, either. I just want to remind you guys that he's in kind of a tough spot. He's terrified of Damien and he's fighting like hell for his freedom. That doesn't make what he's doing right, but in Nathan's eyes, he doesn't believe that he has any other choice. Haley is kind of tough spot, as well. She's aware that Nathan has his secrets and has a past that he's not proud of. She's not ignoring that. She's struggling herself with finding ways to get him to open up to her, without pushing him too far. Hopefully that helps to put some things in perspective for you guys! Thanks again for your support and enjoy!
P.S My knowledge on basketball is very...limited. I apologize for errors, I tried my best, haha. Also sorry for any errors.
"Hi."
Haley tensed at the sound his voice. Her grip on the metal edges of her locker tightened as she fought the urge to look at him. It'd been almost forty-eight hours since she'd last seen him and it was the longest forty-eight hours of her life.
She was so exponentially angry at him—so angry that she bitterly ignored every one of his phone calls and pleading texts. Anger towards Nathan was a foreign feeling for her, which was how she rationalized the twinge-y way she was acting. There had been miniscule moments of irritation and aggravation, but never anything more than that. A small part of her brain knew that she was being immature and irrational. Relationships were about communication and problems or tiffs didn't often get solved by the silent treatment.
Her confusion was another thing that was her holding back. Nathan never snapped at her like he did that night. When they first met, he was cold towards her and tried his hardest to keep her at arm's length. That occasionally translated into snippy comments and rude brush offs. But he never talked to her with a clipped edge, bordering on complete disdain and spineless consternation.
Even though the room was dark, moonlight barely seeping in through the crevices of the closed blinds, there was no mistaking the storm raging in his blue eyes. He was terrified of something, she just wasn't sure what that something was.
He did bolt after they shared a hot night together, leaving her feeling like she was some cheap whore. That wasn't something she could just brush off with a bat of an eyelash. The insecurities that ate away at her—constantly reminding her that she might not be enough to measure up to the girls he'd been around the block with—wouldn't allow that.
Despite her better judgement, Haley peeled away from her locker to look at him. The stoic expression on her face relaxed without resistance when she saw how off balance he seemed. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders hunched forward. His lips were curled up in an easy and apprehensive smile.
"I, uh, left you a few messages," Nathan mumbled lamely, rocking anxiously on the balls of his feet.
"I know," She replied quietly. "I was ignoring you."
He expected her to be angry. He even predicted that she wouldn't answer his calls or texts. Even that didn't stop him from flinching at the cold and guarded expression on her face. He wasn't naïve. He knew that there was nothing proper about the way he left her at Brooke's party and he was angry at himself for it.
Nathan might have called her to apologize countless times, but he still wasn't sure how to explain his behavior. There was the prospect of the truth, but he'd rather her be angry. She'd be safer that way.
"I deserve that," Nathan said pathetically, pulling his hand out of his pocket to rub the back of his neck. "Err, can we talk?
His eyes were pleading and cutting straight into her soul. Haley had two choices. She could've continued to be petty and turn away from him, leaving him to feel as defeated as she did when he left her. Or she could be mature and talk this out. She chose to be mature, mostly because the awkwardness dancing between them was starting to suffocate her.
They walked through the hall and out into the courtyard, finding an unoccupied table near the back entrance. Haley swung her back-pack on to the table and straddled the bench. Nathan mirrored her position, resting his elbow on the table.
"I'm sorry," Nathan blurted out. He kept his eyes trained on hers, watching every emotion flicker in the specks of brown. "I shouldn't have left you like that."
"Why did you?" Haley interrogated. With baited breath, she waited for deflection he was most likely going to give her.
Nathan sucked in a gulp of air, casting his gaze away from her open and trusting eyes. That was the part of his apology that he was unprepared for. He hated the fact that he wanted to tell her the truth, but the fear still had a chokehold on him. The words were lodged in the back of his throat, fighting to be set free. He swallowed them down and did something that fueled his self-hatred even more.
He lied. Sort of.
"I panicked," Nathan finally answered. When her face crossed in hurt and confusion, he quickly shook his head. "Not about us. Or about you. About…. basketball."
Haley's face softened, her shoulders losing their tense posture. There was a shakiness in his voice that made her uneasy and something pulled at her gut. "What about it?"
Nathan's knee bounced up and down as he strung his words together. They weren't necessarily lies, because he meant every one of them. They were taken out of context, however.
"When we were laying there, I let my mind wander. I started thinking about playing again and the implications of all of it," Nathan explained. His breathing had turned erratic. "It all crashing down on me at once and it felt like I couldn't breathe. I got scared and I just felt this need to run. I shouldn't have taken it out on you, Hales and I know that. I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve that."
Haley listened to him talk with furrowed eyebrows. He was struggling to get the words out and she could physically see his chest constricting in pain. She believed what he was saying, but she couldn't help but feel like he was holding something back. He seemed to be only scratching the surface of what was really going on in that counterintuitive brain of his.
The anger she was drowning in moments before receded, replaced by the burning need to completely shattered that shell of his. It was already cracked in some places, she just needed to apply more pressure. She was walking a thin line with that thought, though. If she applied too more pressure, he would completely shut down and she'd be back where she started.
Scooting towards him on the bench, she placed her hand over his. He jumped slightly at the contact, glancing expectantly at their connected hands. She ran her fingers over his warm skin, down the back of his hand to the curve of his wrist.
"I don't want you to be sorry," Haley consoled, dipping her head to catch his stare. "I don't want you to run. I want you to let me in, whatever it is."
Nathan swallowed hard. The words of truth were crawling up his throat again. His insides were shaking with fear, collectively closing down to cage himself in. On the outside, he was calm. On the inside, he was actively trying not to combust at the seams.
"I want you to talk to me when things like that happen." She emphasized her point with a squeeze of his hand. "I'm here for you, Nathan, always."
The only thought he could focus on was that he didn't deserve her. The patience and faith that she executed towards him was astounding. Anyone else would have thrown the towel in a long time ago. He worried that maybe he was taking advantage of her grace and of her kindness. He couldn't fathom the thought of breaking those qualities she possessed be being too avaricious with them.
"I'm sorry," Nathan repeated. He moved the hand that she was caressing and tucked her hand underneath it, lacing their fingers together.
She smiled softly at him and closed the distance between them. Pressing a soft kiss to his lips, she used her free hand to palm his cheek. "Just promise me that next time, you'll talk to me."
"I promise."
There was more, she was sure of it. But at least she got him to talk about something that he was feeling. That was a victory in and of itself.
"Good," Haley said anxiously, chewing on the inside of her cheek. There was still something gnawing at her, though. Something so silly, but it wouldn't leave her alone.
Nathan's forehead creased in confusion. "What's wrong?"
Haley took in a shaky breath. "It's nothing. I'm just being silly."
"I'm sure that it's not," Nathan assured her.
"I thought that maybe you left...because you regretted what we did together or that you weren't happy with it. I know that's a silly thought and I feel stupid even saying it out loud, but I can't help it," Haley rambled anxiously, her gaze fixated on the concrete.
Nathan inwardly cursed. He really was an asshole. "God, baby, no, that wasn't it all. I'm sorry that I made you feel that way."
Haley shook her head. "I know, I know. I was just being stupid."
Nathan cupped her face in his hands and brushed his thumbs along the curves of her cheeks. "You were not being stupid. I was the one being stupid. Listen to me, everything that we do together is perfect to me, okay? I could never regret anything, not when it comes to you."
Haley sighed contently. "You really are a charmer, you know that?"
He just chuckled.
"Am I forgiven?" Nathan hesitantly asked a few seconds later, his body tensing up slightly as he waited for her answer.
Haley exhaled deeply as she nodded her head. "But this is your strike one. You get two more and you're out, my friend."
Nathan chuckled, internally breathing out a sigh of relief. The guilt was already chewing away at him, but that wasn't anything he wasn't used to. His stomach was coiled in a tight knot and he just prayed to God that he'd find some solace soon.
"Practice start's today, doesn't it?"
The knot in Nathan's stomach grew larger. Being back on the team didn't quite feel real yet, and he assumed it wouldn't until he was standing on the court.
"Technically, conditioning starts today. We'll be running basic drills, nothing too concrete. Our first real practice is on Wednesday and then we have a scrimmage Friday night," Nathan explained. Those words felt odd coming out of his mouth.
"Scrimmage?" Haley asked for clarification, her forehead creased.
"It's like a pre-season game. We play another team in our division for practice, basically. It doesn't count towards our record or anything like that."
"Ah, I see. Are you nervous?" Haley asked, even though she was sure she already knew the answer.
"Terrified," Nathan answered with a dry laugh. "I'm oddly excited, though. I wasn't sure if I would ever feel that emotion again."
A small frown tugged at Haley's lips at his admission. "You're gonna be fine. This is a good thing, remember?"
"Yeah, I know," Nathan breathed out. "Speaking of practices, when does yours start?"
"Wednesday, too," Haley answered while standing up from the table, slinging her bag back on her back.
"And when do you get the uniform?" Nathan asked next, wiggling his eyebrows.
"You are so pushing your luck, buddy."
~x~
Nathan was only four years old the first time he held a basketball between the palms of his hands. It was bigger than the size of his head and he struggled to maintain a grip on it between his tiny fingers. The leather was rough around the edges and was scarred from years of use. He could still remember the way the musky smell of it tinkled his nose.
It was Dan Scott's first leather basketball and he it passed on to Nathan as a birthday present. Nathan's face had light up like a Christmas tree when he first saw what it was. He propelled himself off the living room floor, disregarding the other presents he still had to open. Nathan begged and begged to play, until Dan finally relented, joking about how all he wanted to do was finish eating piece of birthday cake.
Nathan couldn't dribble even a little bit, accidentally kicking the ball away from him every time he tried. The basketball net was way too high for him to reach. When he tried to shoot the ball, it only raised a couple of inches before crashing right back to the ground. Dan would pick him up and place him on his shoulders, allowing him to dunk.
That was his first taste of basketball, and that was all it took for him to fall in love with it.
He was ten years old when he first realized that he wanted basketball to be more than just a hobby. Dan had signed him up for a recreational team down at the YMCA. It was meant to be just something fun for Nathan to do after school and the weekends. After their first practice, Nathan noticed that he played a lot better than the other kids. He was fast on his feet and could knock down shots without thinking too much about it.
Nathan quickly realized that he loved the sound of sneakers on polished floors. He loved the rush of adrenaline he felt whenever the ball landed in his hands. The cheers and the constant appraisal was addicting. It brought him a sense of self-worth and undeniable happiness. Nothing felt more right than stepping on that court and holding that ball.
Except he lost it all the moment he lost his dad. It was a part of him that he feared he would never be able to find again. Evidently, he was wrong.
He was standing that same gym that he abandoned just a few years ago. He'd been there a few times since being kicked off the team, but he never took the time to really soak in its energy. He'd avoided looking at the court and he'd definitely avoided looking at the banners hanging on the ceiling, specifically the one with his father's name on it.
The gym still looked exactly how it did the first time he stepped through the double doors, with the exception of a few new banners and flags. The dimmed lighting couldn't stop the polished hardwood floor from shining. If he closed his eyes, he could almost picture being a freshman again.
He expected there to be a stab of pain or guilt. There wasn't one. A calm came over him and he felt another small piece of his shattered heart mend itself.
"Well, well, Nathan Scott. I didn't think I've ever see you in my gym again."
Nathan whipped around to see Whitey Durham approaching him. Coach Durham was a short old man, with lines like tire tracks of years on his face. He was almost always smiling. Sometimes it was cynical, a gesture of mockery. On very rare occasions, it was genuine. Right now, Nathan guessed it was genuine.
He was wearing his usual white polo, the words "Athletic Department" embroidered in blue letters above the left pocket. A clipboard was attached to his hip and pen was tucked behind his ear, that much hadn't changed about him either. He was still as intimidating as ever, with his animated eyes and gruffly looking mouth. There was a certain kind of peace that Nathan found in that.
"What? You didn't think I'd take the offer to be back on the team? I thought you thought more highly of me than that," Nathan joked lightly, pulling the strap to his athletic bag higher up his shoulder.
Whitey chuckled, shaking his head. "No, I didn't. In fact, when Keith first called me about some pretty girl wanting to get you back on the team, I thought it was an early April Fool's joke."
Nathan just hung his head. A smile spread across his face at the mention of Haley.
"This girl mean something to ya or is she just some groupie?" Whitey asked, clicking his tongue.
Nathan laughed at Whitey's sour tone over the word "groupie." One of his biggest pet peeves when it came to his players was when they started paying more attention to the girls batting their eyelashes at them than to the plays of the game. That usually only happened to the overly cocky players who cared more about the girls and attention, than their stats.
"She's my girlfriend," Nathan informed him. "She was just trying to give me the push that I needed, I guess."
Whitey's perked up at that revelation. "That's one hell of a gesture. Must be pretty serious between the two of you, eh?"
Nathan rocked backwards on his heels, clearing his throat. "I guess you could say that."
"She ain't gonna mess with your game, is she? You know how I feel about my players lollygagging up cheerleader's skirts when they should be focusing on the game," Whitey grumbled, his eyebrows folding in.
Nathan shook his head. "No, sir. If anything, Haley is going to keep me more focused on the game."
Whitey nodded in approval.
"What made you decide to give me another chance, Coach?" Nathan asked after a few moments of silence.
"Because I know that you're a hell of a player," Whitey answered without a moment of hesitation. "I saw so much raw potential the first time I saw you play. You played the game the right way. You didn't play it for validation or for popularity. You played it for you. And your teammates and this school. Some of the best players are the ones who are the most selfless."
"I've made a lot mistakes, Coach. I've done a lot stupid things," Nathan muttered shakily. "I'm not the same person I was when you first met and I'm sure I'm the same player, either"
Whitey clapped a hand on the back of his shoulder. "We've all done stupid things, son. We've all made mistakes. But none of those things take away your talent. And none of things can take away your heart, if you don't let it."
Nathan's breath was ragged. "I know."
"I gave you a second chance because, I know that the person you allowed yourself to become isn't the person you want to be. But seeing you here today, tells me that you're ready to get your life back on track," Whitey observed, squeezing his shoulder.
Nathan nodded. "More than ever."
"That's what I like to hear. Your dad would be proud of you."
Nathan's heart cinched at the mention of Dan. He swore he could feel tears prick in his eyes, but he remained grounded. He longed to argue that point, to explain how his dad had probably rolled over in his grave way too many times. The mournful and nostalgic glint in Whitey's eyes stopped him.
"I wish he was still here. I wish I could still look over at the first row from the bench and see both my parents cheering me on," Nathan admitted. Those thoughts had crossed his mind a million times, but he couldn't recall ever saying them out loud. It felt good.
"They are still here, Nathan. I feel your dad every single time I step into this gym, and you will, too. Believe it in your heart," Whitey said, giving Nathan's shoulder a squeeze.
"Thanks, Coach."
"Anytime, son. Now go get changed, we've got a lot of cardio to get going on!"
~x~
Scott -23
A white piece of masking tape marked his locker. He was almost positive that this was the same locker had as a freshman. Was this tape always there, anticipating his return? Or was it freshly written and slathered on. He secretly hoped that it'd always remained there, some kind of concrete proof that this is where he was meant to be.
He slowly opened the locker, his hands shaking as he wiggled the lock out of the hole. It was empty inside, save two complete practice uniforms on hangers and an used water bottle. Sliding his bag off his shoulder, he quickly unzipped the smallest pocket on the front. He carefully pulled out two pictures.
One picture was of his parents after his first game when he was ten. A young Nathan was on Dan's shoulders, his head tossed back in a laugh. Dan was gripping his ankles, doubling over in laughter. Deb, despite her smile, was point at Nathan and most likely reminding him to be careful. He carried that picture with him everywhere, especially to events that involved basketball. That day was a turning point for his love for basketball and it was also one of the happiest days of his life.
The second picture was one of him and Haley. Brooke had slyly taken this picture at her Thanksgiving dinner. It was extremely candid, but he loved it because Haley had the biggest smile on her face. She was laughing about something and he swore he could hear her laugh through the photo. Everything was around her was blurry, even his figure. He was never symbolical person, but he believed that, that picture perfectly represented how she was the clarity in all his chaos.
Once the pictures were taped to the inside of his locker, he felt a little more on balance. Every time he opened that locker, the three most important people in his life would be staring back him. They would be his motivation.
A roar of conversation had Nathan jumping. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as the rest of the team piled into the locker room. They were talking loudly, smacking towels around, dropping bags hastily on the floor, swinging lockers open, and tearing clothes off. None of them seemed to notice him yet, and he was grateful for that.
Turning back to his own bag, he pulled off grey t-shirt and reached for the medium blue practice jersey. His heartbeat was increasing with each passing second. This was actually happening. It was a conversation or an afterthought anymore. Suddenly, he felt sick.
"You doin' okay?" Lucas popped up next to him, working on unlocking his own locker.
"I'm suddenly really nervous," Nathan admitted. Although, seeing Lucas seemed to calm him down a-bit.
"You're gonna be fine. It's just conditioning today," Lucas said as if it were no big deal.
Nathan nodded as he glanced around at the other guys on the team. Some he recognized from try-outs all those years ago. Others he's seen around the halls and in some of his classes, but he hadn't said a single word to any of them. Any of the teammates he played with when he was on the team were long graduated. These players were just nameless faces.
"What about them?" Nathan motioned towards the other teammates, making sure to keep his voice low. "I'm sure they're not gonna happy about a new player on the roaster."
"That's where you're wrong," Jake chimed in, squeezing his way past them. He stopped to put a hand of Nathan's shoulder. "You're not a new player, you're a protégé. Practically a legend."
Lucas swatted his towel at Jake, laughing. "Come on, man, It's only the first day. Don't feed his ego that much."
Nathan just laughed as he un-did the button to his jeans and kicked off his tan boots. He grabbed his shorts and slipped up to his hips, before bending down to put on his shoes. The nervous energy was still flowing through his veins, but it was quickly morphing into adrenaline. That was what he longed to feel.
"Wow, I didn't know they let 'has beens' in here!" A deep and snarky voice called out.
Nathan turned around to see a dark-skinned boy standing in the center of the locker room. He was already in his uniform and Nathan didn't fail to notice that it was in peak condition. He looked to be about an inch or two taller than Nathan and had a self-righteous smirk on his face that immediately made Nathan's fists clench.
"Nathan Scott," The boy said, starting a slow clap with his hands. With each clap, he inched closer to Nathan. "I've got to say, it's is an honor to meet you."
Nathan narrowed his eyes the boy's condescending tone and extended hand. His jaw locked defensively and he squared his shoulders.
The locker room grew quiet, causing the tension to escalate. The rest of the team had stopped what they were doing to watch the exchange between the two boys. They were on the edge of their seats, their eyes shifting back and forth like asking the question "who's gonna throw the first punch?"
"No hand shake? Alright," He backed away, his hands in the air defensively. The smirk he was wearing was starting to piss Nathan off.
"What do you want, Quentin?" Lucas spoke up beside Nathan.
Quentin chuckled dryly, propping his hands on his hips. "Just wanted to make sure that our new player knows where his place is."
"Oh, yeah? And where's that?" Nathan rebuked, taking a step forward. He didn't know what this guy's problem was, but his patience was wearing thin.
"Nathan…," Jake warned, but he just ignored him.
"I've heard all about you, baller, we all have." Quentin made a show of motioning towards the rest of the team. "You're Nathan Scott—first freshmen to make Varsity in like fifteen years, had one hell of a jump shot, and had the best defensive stats in the state. You would have been one of the greats, until your dumbass got messed up with drugs and shit. Got yourself kicked off the team before the season even started."
Quentin's words cut deep, but Nathan remained apathetic. He wasn't going to allow some punk to get a rise out of him, no matter how much the anger was bubbling up inside of him. It just wasn't worth losing his second chance at happiness.
"Don't think that you can just waltz in here and claim your spot on the team. It don't work like that," Quentin sneered. "This is my team and I ain't got time to waste on players who just want to fulfill some fantasy. You had your time and you threw it away."
Nathan clenched his fists and surged forward. He felt Lucas' hand on his arm, but he shook it off. His eyes were alight, the anger burning through him like a wild fire. "I think you're feeling a little threatened, huh? You know that I'm better than you and you're afraid I'm going to take everything from you."
Quentin let out a puff of breath, his eyes narrowing. "That's—
"Boys!" Coach Durham boomed, barreling through the door from his office. "What the hell are you doing in here? Puttin' on make-up?! We got drills to run, come on. Move!"
The team scattered at the demands. Quentin and Nathan remained toe-to-toe for a couple seconds, sizing each other up with narrowed eyes and harsh breaths. Finally, Quentin took a step back and his cocky smirk reappeared.
"Game on, Scott."
~x~
"Looks like someone forgot how to shoot. You know the ball is supposed to go through the hoop, right?" Quentin taunted, jogging passed Nathan with a jarring laugh.
Nathan clenched his teeth as he braced his hands against his knees. Sweat trickled down his face and the back of neck. His heart was slamming in his chest and his lungs burned every time he attempted to breathe. Every muscle in his body was begging him to stop, to take a breather.
"How you are feeling?" Jake asked with a knowing smirk.
"Exhausted," Nathan huffed out. "I didn't…. think I was…that out of… shape."
Jake chuckled, slapping Nathan on the back. "It happens to the best of us. It gets better, I promise."
"Hopefully," Nathan mumbled under his breath as he stood up. An ache shot through his lower back and he winced, his hand rubbing at the ache. He wobbled behind the rest of the team towards the locker room, the muscles in his legs contrasting painfully.
His head was spinning with thoughts of disappointment and self-loathing as collapsed on the bench in front of his locker. Grabbing his towel, he dabbed the sweat off his face and tried to catch his breath.
It wasn't like Nathan expected to step on out on the court and be perfect. Years had gone by since he last played with a team and practiced even some of the basic drills. Most of the time he just shot around at the River Court or played against Lucas and Jake. He expected to be rough around the edges, but he didn't expect to completely suck.
He was slow. It was like boulders were attached to his legs and he had to drag them in order for them to move. His reflexes were late, causing throws to be dropped from his fingers or to slide right passed him. Easy shots that he could knock down on the River Court seemed like rocket science now.
It didn't help matters that the team seemed to freeze him out, with the exception of his brother and his best friend. Quentin was a hell of a player and he intimidated people easily. Lucas might have been the captain, but no one dared to cross Quentin or disobey anything he ordered. It killed Nathan that Whitey didn't seem notice.
Quentin's side remarks weren't doing any good, either. Way back when, Nathan used to live for trash talk. He used it for motivation. Making people eat their words was one of Nathan's favorite pastimes. Quentin's trash talked was more than just trash, though, it was the truth. He knew it in his heart.
Lucas and Jake tried help out as much as that could, but it was futile. He felt a failure, there was no other way around it. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…
~x~
"So, let me get this straight, he completely bolted, with no explanation, after you gave him a hand job?"
"Quinn!" Haley exclaimed, her cheeks flaming red. "Do you have to be so crude?"
Quinn's musical laugh floated over the receiver. "That's what they're called, Haley Bob."
Haley just rolled her eyes as she turned over on her bed. Grabbing one of her pillows, she curled herself around it. Originally, Haley called Quinn to let her know how Lydia's first appointment with the therapist went. The conversation eventually switched Nathan. Quinn claimed that Haley didn't tell her enough about him at Christmas and that she demanded to know more.
She told Quinn as much as she could about him, without over stepping her boundaries. Like Haley, Quinn had a big heart and almost cried when she found out all that Nathan had endured. Haley even indulged in some of the…dirtier secrets, because, that's what sisters did, right?
"What was his explanation when you talked to him?" Quinn pondered.
"In simple terms, he said that he had a panic attack over basketball and needed to get away," Haley explained softly, picking the lint off of her pillow.
"Do you believe him?"
"Yes and no," Haley sighed. "I believe that he was freaking out about basketball, but I don't think he told me the whole truth."
"Do you have any idea what he could be hiding?"
Haley rolled over so that she was on her back, staring at her rotating ceiling fan. She ran her fingers through her hair, before twirling a few strands around her fingers. "I have no idea. He's not like us, Quinn. He holds so much back. I have to fight tooth and nail to get him to open up sometimes."
"Well, that's not really a surprise, considering the trauma that's he been through," Quinn commented sadly.
"I know," Haley lamented.
Quinn exhaled deeply. "This is the first time he's ever done something like this before, right?"
"Yeah."
"And he apologized, right?"
"Yes."
"Then I would just leave it be for now. If he really was having a panic attack, that would explain his sharp attitude and sudden outbursts. Panic attacks usually activate our fight or flight responses. If this 'ditching you' thing starts becoming more of a habit, than I would definitely press the issue," Quinn rattled off.
Haley giggled, playfully rolling her eyes. "Are you done psychoanalyzing my boyfriend now?"
"Hey, I gotta put my degree to use somehow," Quinn guffawed. "You did say that this was his first relationship, right? There's bound to be some hiccups here and there."
"You're right," Haley admired, sliding her hand one of her pillows. "Thank-you, Quinn. I just needed to know if I was crazy or not for forgiving him as easily as I did."
"No, not at all."
The sound of a car door slamming shut had Haley popping up on her elbows. Nathan's car was in the driveway. She could see the top of his making its way towards her front door, disappearing underneath the awning a few seconds later.
"Hey, Quinn, I gotta go. Nathan just got here," Haley quickly said into the phone, her already hovering over the "end" button.
"Oh, did he come back for round 2? You must have blown his mind."
"Goodbye, Quinn!" Haley bellowed, her cheeks burning. Quinn's laughter was the last thing she heard before hanging up the phone. She tossed it back on her desk and quickly glanced in the mirror to fix her bedhead.
Once she was content with her appearance, Haley bounced out of her room. Just as she was rounding the corner, she collided with something hard and tumbled backwards. A pair of arms encircled her waist and pulled her upright. After the whiplash had subsided, she looked up to see Nathan smirking at her in amusement.
"Hi," Nathan chuckled, pulling her flush against him.
"Hi," Haley said back, a shiver running down her spine at their close contact. Her arms automatically wrapped around his neck. "How'd you get in?"
"Your mom let me in," Nathan answered, bending down to capture her lips in a quick kiss. "She doesn't mind you having a boy in your room?"
"She's liberal," Haley joked, untangling herself from his arms. Lacing their fingers together, she led him back into her room. "Besides, she knows that I'm too much of a goody-goody to do anything when she's home."
Nathan laughed, the tension from his first practice slowly simmering away. He always felt more at peace around her. Gently, he pulled her backwards, until her back collided with his chest. He wrapped one around her midsection and used his free hand to brush her hair away from her neck. Leaning forward, he pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses to her flesh.
"Really? Not even if I kiss you like this?"
Haley's eyes fluttered shut as she melted into Nathan's embrace. They were supposed to be studying, that was the main reason Nathan had come over. Their finals were at the end of the week and those were vital to Nathan's graduate and future on the Ravens.
"Y-you're not going to distract me," Haley gasped out. She bit her lip to keep from moaning when the edge of teeth brushed against a sensitive patch right under her jaw.
"Wanna bet?" Nathan challenged. He didn't really want to study anyway. Dropping his hands to her hips, he squeezed them before shifting them beneath her t-shirt.
Haley's eyes popped open at the feel of Nathan's cold hands massaging the curves of her stomach. She fell limp against him and breathed in deeply. Come on, Haley, get it together. Study first, and then you can make out with him all you want. When Nathan's began to travel further north, she knew she had to stop him. She was teetering on the edge of losing her self-control and neither of them could afford that.
Grasping his hands, she slowly pulled herself out of the haze she was in. She blinked hard a few times, before turning to face him. "Baby, as good as that felt, we should really study. You want to graduate, don't you?"
Nathan huffed out a breath of air. "I guess."
Haley laughed at the pout on his face, pinching the corner of his chin. "I'll kiss you later, I promise."
Nathan grumbled to himself as he collapsed on Haley's bed. He winced when his muscles ache and contracted. He rubbed gingerly at his ribs, hoping to relieve some of the pressure. Damn, it was going to take a while to get used to being a seasoned athlete again.
Haley sat down at crossed legged at her desk chair and pulled out her notebook. Glancing over at Nathan, she frowned when she noticed his eyes were closed. "How was practice?"
"Exhausting," He answered without skipping a beat.
She trailed her eyes over his body and her frown deepened. He did look wiped out and she could hear the exhaustion in his hoarse voice. The bags were prominent under his eyes and his face was drained of color. He was wincing in pain even with the slightest of movement.
"That kind of comes with the territory, doesn't it?" Haley murmured.
He cracked a smile. "Yeah, I suppose."
"Other than that, how was it being back on the team?"
Nathan inhaled sharply. "I sucked."
"Nathan…"
He shook his head as he sat up. His shoulders were slumped in defeat and his throat felt scratchy as he spoke. "It was absolutely humiliating. It was like I had completely forgotten how to play."
Haley's heart broke at the crushed look on his face. Sighing, she crawled out of her chair and on to her bed. Placing a hand of his shoulder and another one on his thigh, she rested her chin on the curve of his shoulder. "Babe, you can't expect to be perfect on your first day back. You haven't played organized basketball in a few years. It takes time."
Nathan ran his fingers up and down her arm in a smooth caress. It killed him to say these things out loud. It physically made his stomach churn in pain. "I know that. But, Hales, you didn't see me. I couldn't even make a simple jump shot or free-throw. I'm starting to think maybe this wasn't a good idea. Maybe my basketball days are over."
"Don't say that," Haley scolded.
"It's how I feel," Nathan sighed.
"Can I ask you something?"
Meeting her gaze, he nodded.
"Despite the exhaustion and despite how poorly you might have played, how did it feel to be on that court again? For you, personally. Not for the team or their satisfaction," She inquired.
He mulled over her question for a few moments. "It felt…good. Right, even, like I was finally earning a piece of myself back."
"I want to show you something." Haley beamed at his answer. She quickly pecked his lips, before scooting off the bed and grabbing her laptop. When the screen lit up, she typed in her password and quickly opened the file she was looking for. Enlarging the pictures, she stood up and reclaimed her place next to Nathan.
"Look at these."
Nathan furrowed his eyebrows as she scrolled through a set of pictures. They were all of him playing basketball at the River Court. In some pictures, he was smiling. Others he was laughing. Regardless of his facial expression, he looked at relaxed. There were no worry lines or bags under his eyes. He barely recognized himself, because he looked…free.
"How—Where did these come from?" Nathan stammered.
"I took them."
Nathan's eyebrows shot up. "What? When?"
"Well, uh, most of them were taken before I really knew you," Haley answered nervously. "I saw you and Lucas playing the first night I was in town. I snapped some picture, because…well, that's what I do."
Nathan couldn't help but smirk at the blush on her face. "So, what you're saying is that you were stalking me?"
"What? No!" Haley quickly denied.
"Yes, you were."
Haley rolled her eyes and playfully elbowed him. "I wasn't. There is a point to me showing you these pictures, and it's not for you to make fun of me."
Nathan laughed and waved towards her computer. "Okay, go on."
"It's not only about how good you are, although you are pretty damn good. It's about your happiness, too. See that guy in these pictures? He looks happy. He looks care-free. He looks like he is doing exactly what he was born to do," Haley insisted, still scrolling through the album
"Hales…"
"You're meant to play basketball, Nathan," She cut him off. "Deep down, you know that and these pictures prove that. You can't give up, because you had one bad practice. You have to give yourself a chance."
Nathan stared at her, his eyes gleaming nothing but admiration. She had this insistent way of always being able to calm his biggest fears and loudest worries. Without wasting another second, he reached over and cupped her cheek, pressing his lips to hers in a lingering kiss. When the pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers. "I needed to hear that."
Her lips curled into a small smile. "I figured you might."
He chuckled hoarsely, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. "I was having a diva moment, wasn't I?"
Haley giggled. "Just a little."
~x~
Nathan yawned, dragging a hand over his tired face. It was only Tuesday night and Nathan had already used all of his energy allotted for the week. Between basketball practice, studying for finals, and catering to Damien, he barely had time to breathe. A hot tub party that Damien required he go to was the last place he wanted to be. The steam from the hot tub was burning his exhausted eyes and the loud music was giving him a headache
Luckily, Rachel seemed to have finally gotten the hint. She kept her distance from him the entire night.
. He glared at Damien, who was lounging in the hot tub. Two blondes were draped over, alternating between kissing his neck and his chest. A broken piece of mirror with thin white lines and a rolled up hundred-dollar bill was being passed around like a party platter. Nathan briefly thought back to a time when he would have eagerly accepted that party platter and felt sick to his stomach.
Peeking at the time on his phone, Nathan groaned. It was almost two-thirty in the morning. Leave it Damien to throw a party, starting at one in the morning, on a Tuesday night. He had his first real practice tomorrow and a final exam. This was the last place he needed to be.
When the song changed to yet another annoying, techno song, Nathan knew it was time for him to leave. Pushing himself out of the chaise chair he was sitting on, he headed back inside the pool house to grab his coat and keys. When he went to grab his keys, a bright light caught his eye. Furrowing his eyebrows, he looked towards the source of the light and his heart plummeted to his chest.
It was Damien's office and it was unlocked, unattended.
Nathan quickly glanced down the hall. There was no one in sight and the pool house was quiet. The chatter and thumping of the music from the hot tubs sounded miles away.
It was like there was a gravitational pull between Nathan and Damien's office. His feet were moving on their own accord, inching closer and closer to the office. Once his brain caught up to what his feet were doing, he frozen. His heart was banging in his chest.
What if this was a trap? But what if it wasn't? What if this was his only chance to get that lock box open? He couldn't pass that up, no matter how much of a risk it was. He knew getting involved with Damien again would mean taking risks. He just had to be careful and take it one step at a time.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and walked a little faster towards the office. All he had to do was see what kind of code the lock box contained. That way, he could try and crack the code without physically being in Damien's office.
He reached the open-door way and paused again. A cold sweat broke out on his skin. Come on, Nathan, you can do this.
Pushing every thought out of his mind, he crossed the threshold. He crouched below the desk with his heart pounding in his ears and his hands shaking like leafs. He reached for the box when everything came crashing down.
"What the fuck are you doing?!"
Busted.