His first day back in school; Nathan sighed heavily at the thought. Deb had just dropped him off in front of Tree Hill High, and he had had to assure her over and over again that yes, he really was okay with going back to classes today. If only he could make himself believe it, too…

Staring at the tall building in front of him, he took a last deep breath and eventually started walking. He tried to ignore the fact that people kept staring at him like he were some freak. Everyone had known him before, he had been the basketball team's star player after all, but now the looks they shot in his direction were heavy with that other knowledge about him, knowledge that sure as hell had been the source of a lot of gossip during the last couple of weeks. The accident, the deaths of his friends, the thing about his father and Lucas…

No Tim to welcome him back this time… Just the memory of him with his head so horribly—

Nathan closed his eyes for a second and forced himself to stop thinking about those things. This was only school. He was Nathan Scott. He didn't care what people thought or said about him. He did not care!

"Nate! Hey, you're back!" someone suddenly called out behind him. It was Jake, who had run to catch up with him and was now putting his hand on his shoulder in silent acknowledgment of what Nathan had been through.

"Yeah," he said. He had tried to sound at least a little more enthusiastic about it than he felt, but it had been a too halfhearted attempt.

"Don't worry, Dude. You didn't miss much," Jake said dismissively and began accompanying his teammate into the hall. On their way he filled Nate in on the few things he actually did think were worth knowing, and Nathan made a show of trying to look and behave like he actually cared.

It was then that they came across Haley, who was heading straight for her locker, and he couldn't help but smile. They didn't have their last few encounters under the most ideal circumstances, and yet she had always tried to make it seem like there was no reason for him to be embarrassed about anything. Yeah, right. Like freaking out in front of her was no reason for embarrassment…

Once she noticed the guys, her gaze instantly settled on the taller of the two and surprise and a sudden, relieved joy at seeing him culminated in a shy smile.

"Nathan! So you're back to school finally!" she blurted out, biting the insides of her cheeks in sudden horror at having addressed him this loudly.

"Haley.—Yeah, looks like it, huh?" he drawled out, still smiling. He was acting all confident and yet he didn't feel confident at all. What was this girl—this tutor girl—doing to him?

"Good for you!" Haley said and wanted the ground to open beneath her, swallow her. Good for you? That's all she had to say to him? Seriously? Oh, Haley James, you idiot, she berated herself, feeling red heat creep into her cheeks.

"Um, yeah… well… See you later, Hales, okay?" He looked at her again, and for one short moment their gazes locked, before he and Jake moved on, down the hallway to their classroom.

He had called her "Hales" again…

Somewhat belatedly, Haley finally got out a "Yes, sure," in response, but by that time the two guys had already vanished somewhere in the crowd. Haley rolled her eyes at herself. She had behaved like a stupid 12-year-old with a crush. And she absolutely did not have a crush on Nathan Scott!

At least she had not asked when exactly they should continue with the tutoring, she thought and finally turned to her locker and made to open it. After a while, though, she swore angrily. Try as she might, the door to her locker simply wouldn't open, but how was she to help that new guy with catching up in math when she didn't have access to her books? And besides, how was she to explain it to Mrs. Rosenheim if she showed up to her class without her English homework?

But before she could start actually attacking the metal with her fists in her desperation, she suddenly heard someone laugh lightly behind her and whirled around to see Peyton standing a little to the side, watching. Haley glowered at her, then returned her attention to the stupid locker.

"Not funny," she bit out. "This. Stupid. Locker. Will. Not.—Gosh!"

"Hey hey hey," Peyton laughed. She took her friend by the shoulders and gently guided her out of the way. "Let me see, okay? Move over, tutor girl." With a light shake of her head she forced her blond locks out of her face and took a peek at the object in question. "Um, Haley?"

"What?" came the annoyed reply.

"It's just… could it be that you haven't unlocked it, yet, sweetie?"

"What; do you think I'm that stupid?" Haley huffed indignantly and shoved Peyton out of the way. Giving her a look that basically said You-have-absolutely-no-idea, she grumbled, "Ach, eventually I'll get this thing to open, just you wait and see. And if the damn door has to come lose for that to happen, then so be—oh no!" she suddenly blurted out disbelievingly and stared at her friend. "This… oh my God, you were right, I didn't—I did not unlock my stupid locker first! Oh my God." Throwing her hands up in a gesture of defeat, she muttered meekly, "So now it's official, go ahead and tell everyone that Haley James is a complete human failure. First I start babbling nonsense to Nathan, and now I'm even forgetting a simple thing such as unlocking my locker before opening it?" She sighed and let her head droop.

"Nathan's back?" Peyton picked up the new info and gently forced Haley's face up by lifting her chin with one extended hand. She smiled knowingly, which only made the other scowl at her.

"Does someone have a crush on our returned star player?" the blonde asked and couldn't help from laughing when she saw the hopeless expression on her friend's face.

"Did I hear the word 'crush?'" Brooke's voice could suddenly be heard and a moment later she was throwing her arms around both girls' shoulders. "Ooooh, I love gossip!"

No. Haley James did not have a crush. On anyone!

-o0o-

Had the hallway in front of his room always been this long, Lucas wondered as he was practicing his walking skills, crutches held securely in his fists. Ray was always close to his side, wheelchair at the ready.

"Dude," Luke muttered eventually and looked up at the nurse, "time for a little break, okay?"

"That, coming from you?" Ray wondered, but nodded and helped his patient sit down again. Usually he was having a hard time keeping the Scott kid from continuing on, long after his strength had been exhausted. But it seemed Lucas had finally begun to understand the importance of not rushing things.

It had only taken that unfortunate episode a few days ago for him to realize that maybe walking beyond one's limits didn't exactly help quicken the progress of returning to the walking world.

Lucas had been overly eager to prove to both Brooke and his mom that he was perfectly capable of walking the short distance from the entrance to his room to the reception area a little further off. He had ignored all their assurances that it was okay to stop once they had noticed him starting to sweat quite profusely and biting his lip, his expression determined, yet pain-filled.

But he had wanted to show them he could do it. It was not a long walk after all. Yet, it had turned out to be too long for him in the end. He had ended up clinging to Brooke for support when his legs had suddenly given way. He had had to endure the two women's worried looks, their scolding him for being stupid to risk his health by overdoing it. They had told him he didn't have to prove anything to them. Even now, though, he still felt like he did.

But after his leg had hurt so badly the day following his disastrous first try at walking a longer distance, so badly in fact that he had to sit out two whole days of practice before actually being able to give it a try again, he had decided it would be best to actually heed the others' words for once and take it a little more easily.

Maybe it had helped a little that the doc had given him some new prospects to look forward to when saying that he was free to go home today. He would even be allowed to go to school again—if he proved he could master what Ray liked to call a "solitary bathroom situation" beforehand.

And he had done it, complete with taking a shower! The basic stuff?—child's play! Though he'd never ever stop being grateful for being able to say that again…

School, he couldn't believe he'd finally be going back there again. He couldn't yet picture it, not really. Also, he wasn't all too happy about the fact that he'd be going back there still relying on the damn wheelchair. Already he could see the stares people would send his way, anticipated their sympathetic comments on what had happened to him—unless they went for some form of the "ignore-the-poor-cripple" tactics…

But it was school. It meant no longer having to stare at blank walls, feeding his brain solely on the homework Haley brought him every day and the odd crossword. Better food, and when he wanted it, not when they dictated it. It meant being around people—outside of visiting hours! And being with Brooke. Who cared about the rest then?

Right?

And still, Lucas couldn't help but feel an odd sort of apprehension whenever thinking about the near future.

"Come on, Lucas, hop into bed," Ray finally said when they were back in Luke's room and waited to see how his patient was accomplishing that task unaided.

Oh yes, there was definitely progress here, the kid would do alright at home. If only he wouldn't find any reason to fall back into old habits again…

-o0o-

Nate hadn't particularly liked his first day back; how the teachers had been so understanding all of a sudden, practically giving him a wildcard for most classes—"you don't have to write next week's test, Nathan, if you don't feel like it…" Yeah, right; just you go and treat me like a friggin' imbecile now, he had thought and given the respective teacher a scathing stare.

At least it was over for the day, and finally. Of course there was practice now, but Nathan didn't feel inclined to watch his teammates run suicides and practice new moves as long as his arm was still hurting so much occasionally and he would be reduced to merely sit at the sidelines and have Whitey tell him how sorely he was missed in the games. No, thank you very much.

So instead, he was waiting for his mom to arrive and pick him up. A look at his watch told him that she was running late. With a sigh he let himself drop to the curb.

"Nathan? Hi," someone said behind him and an instant later he saw Haley lowering herself into a sitting position beside him.

"Hey."

"Aren't you supposed to be in the gym for practice?" she queried, self-consciously sweeping a strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear.

"Um, not yet. No," he replied, raising his arm slightly in explanation.

"Oh, of course." Haley felt like a complete idiot. Of course Nathan wasn't yet ready for returning to active practice when his arm was still not okay again. Lucas was far from being entirely healed, either, so what had she been thinking? Nothing, apparently. Her smile wavered slightly, but she managed not to let it show too obviously that she was angry at herself.

"Um…," she made, trying to bridge the awkwardness which had ensued after her slip-up, but she couldn't think of anything to say. She shouldn't have sat down next to him like that to begin with. Already she was trying to come up with a smooth way of how to extract herself from this situation she had landed herself in, when Nathan said,

"How's Luke doing?"

"Oh, um, better. He'll actually be coming back to school soon, too, can you believe it?" (Of course he can, Haley, duh.)

"That's great… You know, I probably should have—I don't know—visited him or something, it's just…," he faltered, not sure why he was even confiding in her. But there was something about this girl that just made him want to be a better person, someone who actually did visit his brother—even if only his half-brother—in the hospital. He just felt that odd urge to explain his behavior to her; wanted her to see someone else than a careless jerk in him… Darn that girl, she made him feel self-conscious without apparent reason.

"I know," Haley suddenly whispered, her voice gentle, just like the hand she put on his good arm then, and he smiled at her. God, he wanted to kiss her, he really did. But just when he took her face in his hand and started slowly bending forward, both teenagers heard a car stop in front of them and startled, moved apart again.

Haley was on her feet faster than he, and shouldering her bag she said, "Yes, well. I guess that's your ride; because unless my mom robbed a bank or something she wouldn't pick me up driving a brand new sports car."

When Nate's gaze fell on the car, she was scrutinizing it herself so she missed how his expression changed rather quickly into a deep frown. This was not Deb's car.

Following a sudden sense of foreboding he slightly tilted his head to check on the driver and his heart sank. Dan. What was he doing here? And where the hell was Deb?

Finally sensing Nathan's hesitation, Haley turned to face him. Worried, she saw that he didn't look too pleased at seeing that particular car parked in front of them. Once she looked at it again, she quickly learned why he still stood there, waiting, instead of walking toward it, because right then his father, Dan Scott, exited the car, sunglasses in place, and flashed a bright smile their way.

"Nathan. Son. Come on, let's go. We need to get you back in shape. No more flunking practice starting tomorrow, alright? And now get moving, we don't have all the time in the world."

Nathan stood frozen, Haley's hand slightly touching his. It was weird, how she was so aware of that light contact when he seemed to be so oblivious of it.

"Nathan?" she said in a small voice, fighting the urge to grab him and forcefully lead him away from Dan's grasp.

"Where's mom?"

"Oh, you know, those pills…," Dan shook his head in theatrical regret, then continued, "She should have known not to mix them with Vodka. She's out on the couch still, so I guess that left me to come and pick you up. Or would you rather want to take the bus.

"Yeah. Actually." Nathan stared at his father defiantly, not moving an inch.

It took Dan to walk over to where they were standing and grab his son's arm in a seemingly fatherly grip to make him even take one step. Flinching, Nate tried to loosen his dad's fingers from his arm, tried to fight him off, but to no avail.

"Don't be ridiculous, son. You're in no shape to win any fight against me.—Ms. James, if I were you I'd walk a little to the side. All too often people get hurt in parking areas because the drivers miscalculated how close they stood," he sneered, grinning at her condescendingly.

Her breath caught at hearing that obvious threat directed at her and her shocked gaze found Nathan's. She wanted to say something, something. But the threat had been enough to make Nate lower his head and follow his father to the car, looking defeated.

"See you tomorrow, Hales," he said hoarsely and got into the car smiling at her lopsidedly.

"Ms. James." Dan nodded his pretend-polite goodbye and vanished out of her sight, just like his car did, mere seconds later.

Tomorrow…