After an incident involving Nathan stealing a bus, and taking it on a joy ride during their younger, careless days as sophomores, resulted in more than half the team being suspended, Whitey had set a strict curfew for the boys during the season. Home by ten on weeknights, midnight on weekends.

Lucas usually followed it, finding the curfew just another excuse to stay over at her house, but Nathan was different. Nathan would stay out until two AM on a school night, just for the hell of it.

Which is why Peyton wasn't surprised to find him in her doorway at 11:59 PM.

"Hey."

She glanced over and smiled at him, feeling a little confused. All of her friends seemed to know where to find the key to her front door, no matter how many times she changed the hiding place.

"I didn't hear you come in." Peyton said, pushing some of her art supplies off of the bed so he could sit down.

Nathan laughed, kicking off his shoes before dropping down beside her. Of course she hadn't heard him, Peyton Sawyer liked her music loud.

"Well imagine that."

They sat in silence for a few moments, unsure of what to say. She really wanted to ask him why he was there so late, but he hadn't offered an explanation either.

"Nate?"

"I wanted to talk." He replied, guessing her thoughts. "You wanted to be alone the other night, but we said some pretty heavy stuff to each other."

I don't want this for us, Sawyer. I don't want you to feel like you can't come to me for something, whatever thoughts are running through your head. We used to tell each other everything.

We haven't been that way in a long time.

We could be. Come on, Peyton, I'm still your friend, I'm still here for you.

"Nathan." Peyton muttered. "About that..."

"You were right." Nathan told her. "I haven't been that great of a friend to you, Curly, and I don't ever want you to feel like you can only go to Lucas or Brooke with your problems. I'm here for you, Peyton. You're stuck with me."

She wasn't sure how it had happened, but at one point, she'd stopped opening up to him. He was right, she did go to Lucas, or Brooke with most of her problems, because she knew how they'd react.

Nathan Scott could be very unpredictable.

"Can we go back to being us again?" He asked, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "Good enough friends, where we can talk about stuff? Even when it's ugly?"

Two months after Anna Sawyer's death, they'd all spent the night at Haley's house. It was a special occasion, the first time they had been able to see Peyton since the funeral. Lucas and Nathan had stayed downstairs, the girls slept in Haley's bedroom.

While his brother snored, Nathan lay on the couch, unable to sleep. Something was wrong, he just hadn't been able to put his finger on it.

And then the stairs creaked.

There stood Peyton, with her skinny arms, and her tangled mass of curls, tears streaming down her cheeks. Wordlessly, he'd reached out to take her hand, pulling her down to sit beside him.

I really miss her, Nate.

I know.

He'd only been nine, or ten, but he'd sat up with her all night, listening to her talk. She'd told him all about the sympathetic looks she earned from relatives who hadn't even known her mother, and the strangers who treated her as if she might break if they said, or did the wrong thing.

They just don't know you, Peyton. You're stronger than that.

Nathan squeezed her hand again. He knew exactly what day she was thinking of, because it was the first time he'd realized just how important his friends were to him.

"Peyton?"

"Yeah." Peyton replied with a smile. "Especially when it's ugly. I love you, Nate."

He laughed, pulling her into a tight hug. "I love you too, Sawyer."

He was going to be a better friend, he decided, the kind he used to be before popularity and the cliques had happened. He would never make Peyton feel like she couldn't come to him again.

Nathan was going to be there for her, he was going to be there for all of them.