A/N: Hi guys. Here's the next one. Hope you like it. Thanks to all readers and reviewers, as usual. Happy reading.
...
Nathan stepped out of the shower and wrapped his lower section up with the towel before ducking back into the locker room. Like the rest of the team, he was still psyched about this latest win. It was four easy victories in a row now—two there in L.A. and two away games. Had they started this sooner, they might have had a chance at getting into the championships. Maybe next season they'd start their winning streak earlier, but as it was now there were only two games left and it was too late for a championship for them.
He well knew that the reason for this was because some of the guys on the team played better because there was no longer any pressure. He wasn't one of those guys. He played well regardless, and had always thrived under pressure. He supposed his dad hammering him ever since he could hold a basketball had something to do with that.
He went to his locker, talking and laughing amiably with his teammates. Just two more games. Three more days and he'd be home.
He dressed while continuing the casual banter. Most of the guys were going out to celebrate. He was invited, of course, but politely backed out as they knew he would. They no longer gave him a hard time about it, but merely accepted it as a 'just how it is' type of deal.
Once he was fully dressed, he pulled out his cell phone from the top shelf, checking it before he'd shove it in his pocket. He had four missed calls.
All from Peyton.
His brows knit together curiously. He hadn't heard from her in nearly two weeks. She'd told him not to call her anymore so he hadn't. It wasn't easy. He'd had to refrain from dialing that familiar number several times in these past weeks, especially when he had a few drinks in him, and missing her seemed more potent.
Truth be told he missed her more than he missed Haley. He told himself that was because he'd gotten to talk to Haley every day, and Peyton was the one he'd gotten used to having in L.A. with him.
His phone went off again even as he held it. Peyton again.
He frowned though his heart thundered in his chest. According to her instructions, he wasn't to call her anymore, but she could call him anytime she damn well wanted? For a moment he thought about not answering. What was good for the goose was good for the gander, right?
But he couldn't do it. He wanted to talk to her. And besides, something might be wrong.
Something was wrong, he quickly discovered, though discerning what it was through her frantic rant was impossible. He'd pressed the button to put her call through but before he could even form a proper greeting, she was going off, screaming indiscernible obscenities—at least he thought they were obscenities. He really only caught a word here and there. He was pretty sure the words 'jackass' and 'asshole' came up more than once.
He grabbed his duffel bag and closed his locker, holding the phone away from his ear as he headed outside and toward his car. What the hell was she going on about? All he knew for sure was she was pissed.
And not just pissed. Pissed at him. What exactly had he done this time? He tried to find out, but she wouldn't let him have a word in, and now he was getting pissed too.
"Ok, Peyton, Peyton," he called in annoyance as he got in his car and sat in it. "Would you calm down," he demanded rather than questioned. "I can't understand a damn word you're saying."
"You. Are. A. Bas-tard." She spat nice and slow, but no less angry, enunciating each word in exaggerated proportion so he'd get it loud and clear.
He heard the words, but still didn't understand where they were coming from. He'd left her alone as she'd asked—demanded—him to.
"It's bad enough you wonder if you could trust me when you're the one who's done this before," she carried on, "and I'd never know if or who you'd be fucking next, but to actually renege on helping me just because I refuse to be that girl anymore is low, even for you."
Confusion rising, he tried to cut her off, but she wouldn't have that.
"You shouldn't have offered your help in the first place if you didn't want to do it. But then I guess you had an incentive before. There was still a chance I'd keep sleeping with you even though you stayed with Haley. Now that I've made clear that's not going to happen, it's not so tempting to help me anymore, is it? Sex is off the table so what's the point, right? Is that my punishment? Cause I really thought you were better than that."
He shook his head in bewilderment, rubbing the tight knots that had formed in the back of his neck. "Look, are you high or something cause I don't know..."
She scoffed at the few words she'd finally let him have. She'd hoped for an explanation but obviously she would only get his ridicule. "Oh right, I'm telling it how it is so I must be on drugs."
"No." He would have said drunk but she wasn't slurring her words. It was the only explanation for her out-of-nowhere rant. He'd done absolutely nothing to bring this on. "Peyton, what's this about?"
"It's about you being a jackass," she thundered. "Well, you know what, Nate? You're not gonna manipulate me like that so you can go to hell! Thanks for nothing!"
Manipulate her? What? "Look, what are you...?" he began, but the line went dead. She hung up on him. "Talking about?" he finished to himself. Like seriously, what the hell had just happened?
He tried to call her back but she wouldn't answer. He spent half the night trying, all with the same effect. She simply would not pick up.
So finally, furiously, he gave up, and decided that joining his teammates at the celebration party was a much better idea than sitting around his apartment all night wondering what was up with his ex-lover.
...
"Brooke!" Peyton called out, catching the brunette before she entered her store. The last thing she needed was another run-in with Bitchtoria, but she seriously needed to talk to Brooke.
Brooke stopped in her tracks and turned, heaving a great sigh as the blonde approached her. "Peyton, I don't have time for this," she said. "I have a lot to do and..."
"Make time," Peyton spat. It was the next day following her two discoveries at the lawyer's office and her rant to Nathan over one of them, and she was still fuming. She was sick and tired of crying—had done nothing but for nearly two months now—so her fury was a welcome change. Much better to be angry than sad, especially when dealing with people she'd once thought she could count on but who had proven her wrong by turning on her. She found herself developing a deep-seated rage that was no longer directed solely at Nathan—though it certainly included him—but also at those who claimed an unjustified right to criticize and judge her actions.
And right at the top of that list was Brooke Davis. She was supposed to be her best friend but, as Nathan had pointed out at that cafe in L.A., one fall from grace was enough to shatter that friendship to pieces. It was further infuriating that Brooke cut her out of her life even though none of this had anything to do with her. Clay was doing the same thing to Nathan. And why? What right did they have to take back their friendships simply because they disapproved of their behavior?
Yes, they'd done wrong. Peyton would be the first to admit that, and it was, in fact, the very reason she'd pushed to tell Lucas and Haley the truth. She hadn't been willing to let Nathan go—she was in love with him, didn't they understand that?—but had wanted to put an end to sneaking around behind their backs.
She'd done the right thing by confessing to Lucas, and his antagonism she could understand, though he carried it way too far, but Brooke? She called Peyton a bad friend for betraying Haley, which certainly had merit, but what of her? What kind of friend abandoned you for making bad choices, even if they didn't condone it? Certainly not a best friend.
This was the conclusion Peyton had come to, but still her heart wanted to give her childhood friend a chance to prove her wrong. Oh, how badly she wanted to be proven wrong. She missed her B. Davis, needed her best friend right now with the rest of her life shattering all around her.
Brooke, however, seemed uninterested in repairing their damaged friendship. It only took one look at her hard, cold sneer to figure that out.
Even so, Peyton hoped she was wrong, for another reason too. She needed someone to get through to Lucas, and she could not bring herself to go to Haley for help, despite the fact the girl knew nothing of her steamy love affair with Nathan. It just didn't feel right to ask a favor of her after sleeping with her husband.
She wasn't feeling so confident about asking Brooke either. But she had to. She couldn't just do nothing. Squaring her shoulders, she braced herself for the confrontation she expected her pleas to create. "I need you to do something for me," she began, going on when Brooke simply raised her brows and stared expectantly. "I need you to talk to Lucas."
Brooke let out a small, strained laugh, though she was clearly not amused. "And tell him what?"
"To call off this ridiculous restraining order they've issued against me," she answered dully, and then furiously, "a RESTRAINING ORDER, Brooke, that doesn't allow me within a hundred yards of Luke or my own daughter! You need to convince him how wrong that is. He knows I would never hurt Sawyer. I just want to be in her life. This is crazy. She doesn't need protection from me!"
For a second she thought she saw sympathy and regret flash in the hazel eyes, but it was quickly masked with a look of indifference. "It's not up to me to tell him what to do," the brunette said dismissively, not mentioning the fact that she had casually broached the subject with Lucas a few times, but hadn't gotten anywhere due to the anger he was still, understandably, holding onto. "It's not my call," she added, revealing no emotion.
"Brooke, I'm asking you to help me. You know this isn't right. I know you know that! So can you please try to make him see past his own ego and stop this before it gets any more out of hand? I can't take this anymore, Brooke. You have to help me."
"I don't have to do anything," Brooke retorted hotly, her tone harsh as she struggled with what she felt was right and what she felt she wanted. The truth was she was shocked when Luke had told her about the restraining order against Peyton. She'd known his lawyer had said he'd take care of Peyton's persistence at trying to see Sawyer when the courts had given Luke temporary full custody and discretion over access, but she found his lawyer's solution rather extreme. Obviously the judge hadn't thought so since it had been granted. Apparently ignoring a court order was a big no-no, and she couldn't say she agreed with it at all, though Lucas seemed rather pleased with it.
She didn't press the issue though, truly believing it wasn't her place to do so. Besides that, she was growing so much closer to Lucas and Sawyer lately, and she didn't want to give that up. Giving in to Peyton could only ruin what it seemed she and Luke were slowly developing. "I think you overestimate my powers of persuasion," she said. "Luke has his own mind, and even if I could somehow convince him to change it, I'm not sure I'd want to. Something about you standing here playing victim just rubs me the wrong way."
"I'm not playing victim, Brooke!" Peyton snapped. "I did a terrible thing, and you all hate me, fine. But the punishment doesn't fit the crime, and I think you can see that."
"You don't know what I see," Brooke returned sharply. "And, trust me, you wouldn't want to. All I can say to help you right now is if you want to avoid a prison cell, then you should be aware that you're currently in violation of your restraining order."
Peyton shook her head, confusion marking her features. "That order doesn't include you, Brooke."
"I'm aware of that."
Peyton caught her meaning like a ton of bricks had just been dumped on her. "You're saying Sawyer's in the store," she gasped.
"Points for perception."
"Oh, Brooke, you have to let me see her," Peyton exclaimed, new hope rising within her.
"Right," Brooke scoffed. "And get myself arrested? No thank you."
"Lucas wouldn't have to know. I won't say anything. Brooke, please."
"I'm not going to lie for you," Brooke returned snidely. "That's your forte, not mine."
"Brooke, in the name of our lifelong friendship," Peyton all but pleaded. "Please."
"You need to go."
"Brooke...?"
Brooke stared at her coldly while Peyton stared back desperately, willing her best friend to open her doors for her.
The door did open, but from the inside, and, much to Peyton's chagrin, out came Victoria Davis, cell phone in hand. "Everything ok out here or should I be ringing the police?" the older woman asked.
"I'm not sure," Brooke replied evenly. "Peyton? Do they need to be called or were you just leaving?"
Peyton's shoulders slumped in defeat, and without a word, she turned and walked away dejectedly. The last thing she needed was an arrest to boost Luke's chances further in court. Not that there would be court anymore.
There went too angry to cry, she thought sullenly as tears trickled freely down her cheeks on her way to her car.
Several people stopped and stared, a few asked if she was okay. She whizzed by them all without response. Damn the nosiness that was human nature.
No, she wasn't okay. How could she be while her whole world fell apart? And now that Nathan had gone and cancelled the credit card she'd been using for the custody battle, she didn't think she'd ever be okay again. How could he do that to her? He'd said he might love her, but clearly, if he could do this, there was no caring there. And that broke her for more than just the obvious reason that she still loved him with every core of her being.
She had no way to fight against Lucas now. The best she could hope for now was that he'd have a change of heart and allow her visitation rights. And that certainly seemed unlikely to happen.
She felt herself sink just a little further into the pit of depression and despair. God, the sheer hopelessness of it all was too much. When would this nightmare end? Would it ever end?
All she had was her hope, and it was fading fast.
...
It was Haley who picked him up from the airport, and as soon as he saw her, her realized how much he truly had missed her despite having spoken to her nearly every day these last six weeks. That knowledge didn't exactly help with the inner battle he'd been having lately.
Damn it, he hadn't been lying when he'd told Peyton he'd been considering telling Haley the truth. Between his desire to continue a sordid affair with his lover, and his growing guilt for feeling that way, he truly had spent a great deal of thought on it. So much so that it was beginning to grate on his nerves.
In his heart he knew Haley deserved better than what he'd been giving her. Hell, so did Peyton. But at least Peyton knew about Haley, and had known about her from the start.
There wasn't a choice to make anymore. As he'd determined two weeks ago, Peyton had made the decision for him by pushing aside his doubts that he could count on her as much as he'd always counted on Haley, and telling him flat out to stop calling her.
Apparently she didn't have to follow her own rule though, and could call him whenever she pleased, he once again thought sourly. He thought about her angry telephone spiel of a few days ago—had thought of little else since it happened—and still wondered what was going on.
He pushed all thoughts of her aside when Haley greeted him with a brilliant smile and an embrace that showed exactly how much she'd missed him.
She sighed contently as his arms wrapped around her. "Hmm, you're home," she said dreamily. And not just home, but home for the next several months. Oh, how she loved that basketball had an off-season.
He smiled and hugged her back, planting a chaste kiss to the top of her head. He was rather surprised to see she'd come alone. She generally tended to drag her best friend along. Either that or sent him by himself.
"No Lucas?" he asked as they walked to the car.
She shook her head and explained that Luke was getting back into his writing the last little while. "He has over a month to make up for, and his editor's really been on him about it," she said.
Nathan nodded in understanding, feeling the guilt rise in him again. Luke's writing was suffering because of him and Peyton. He shook the thought away. It's not like he could change it now. "No Jamie either?"
"Jamie," she began, "is with Mouth at the news station. Ever since Mouth brought him once, he keeps wanting to go back. I think we might have ourselves a future news anchor or reporter."
Nathan chuckled softly. "Well, with his height, that might not be such a bad thing. I kinda doubt he can make a career in the NBA."
"He's eight," Haley countered playfully. "Plenty of time for him to sprout."
"He's almost nine and barely comes up to my knees," Nathan returned jovially.
"Oh, husband, you do exaggerate," she laughed.
"He's the shortest kid in his class," Nathan pointed out.
"Well so was I...ok, you're right," she conceded as she realized she'd just proved Nathan's point. "He probably won't be playing pro basketball. But let's not take it off the table just yet. He's too young to have his dreams of following in his dad's footsteps crushed."
Smiling at her, he replied, "Trust me, I don't have the heart to tell him that either."
"Good. And besides, you never know, he could shoot up during puberty. Boys tend to do that, right?"
"Sure," Nathan replied, doubtful that he'd grow that much. Even he, at 6"2 was considered too short for some of the positions, and he had a feeling Jamie would never match his height.
"Well, see, there's still hope," Haley returned flippantly.
"Ever the optimist," Nathan said with a laugh, kissing the top of her head once more.
It didn't surprise him when Haley handed him the keys with a cute, little pleading expression on her face. She hated driving in heavy traffic. Not that he loved it, but it didn't make him nervous, and he did generally do the driving when he and Haley went out together.
He held his hand out and she dropped the keys in it with a happy smile.
"You don't mind?" she asked. "You're not too tired from the flight?" It's not like she couldn't drive, after all, if he wasn't feeling up to it.
"No, it's fine," he assured her as he tossed his bag in the back seat and they both got in the vehicle and buckled up. "I slept through most of the flight anyway," he added, putting the car in gear and driving off.
They were about halfway to Tree Hill before she casually addressed the topic she'd been steeling herself for since they left the airport. The topic that had been plaguing her mind for the last two weeks, and the actual reason she'd come alone today.
"So, umm, about that old MasterCard," she brought up as casually as could be, noting by the tightening grip on the steering wheel, that he'd tensed up again.
"What about it?" he questioned, just as casually.
"You said you lost it?"
"Yeah."
"Do you know where?"
"If I knew that, it wouldn't be lost," he returned reasonably.
"Right, of course," she replied. "Good thing I cancelled it last week then," Haley said, keeping her tone light.
Cancelled it? Peyton's words on the phone a few days ago instantly came back to him. '... to actually renege on helping me just because I refuse to be that girl anymore is low, even for you.' 'You shouldn't have offered your help in the first place if you didn't want to do it.'
Oh shit, that's what she'd gone off about. She thought he cancelled it because of her refusal to wait for him to make a decision about her and Haley. What had she said? 'I guess you had an incentive before. There was still a chance I'd keep sleeping with you even though you stayed with Haley. Now that I've made clear that's not going to happen, it's not so tempting to help me anymore, is it? Sex is off the table so what's the point, right?'
Wow, did she really think that little of him that she actually believed he would do that to her because she wouldn't have sex with him anymore? She said she loved him. He definitely needed to have it out with her about this.
His mind reeling, he silently figured she must have gone to use the credit card at the lawyer's office and discovered it no longer worked. Which meant she had no money to pay for the custody battle. Which meant she would automatically lose. Well, there was always legal aid, but they were kinda worthless.
No. He wouldn't let that happen. He had to see her.
But first he had to answer to his wife, who had just asked him a question. Only he'd been so lost in his own thoughts, he had no idea what she said, and she was now calling out to him, the impatience in her tone indicating it wasn't the first time. "Oh, sorry," he said, shaking his head to clear it. "What was that?"
"I asked if that was a problem," she repeated. "Because I figured since you lost it, we should cancel it in case someone else finds it and takes advantage."
He cleared his throat. "Oh, yeah, that's uh...good thinking."
Her shoulders slumped indistinctly. Ever the optimist, as Nathan had said, she'd really hoped to discover she'd blown everything out of proportion, and that it was all just a huge misunderstanding.
"You might have thought to do that yourself when you lost it," she pressed, her tone not quite so casual anymore, but nothing that would raise alarm bells in his head.
"That?"
"Cancel it," she answered with a tinge of annoyance seeping in her voice.
He heard it, but shrugged carelessly. "Yeah," he said. "I guess I didn't think about it." Damn, he wished she would drop it. "Good thing I keep you around, huh?" he attempted to tease her.
She planted a smile on her face but could not keep the rising anger out of her tone. "Yeah, good thing," she said coolly. "So, you lost it, huh?" she asked again, giving him a final opportunity to come out with the truth.
He didn't take it. He didn't even realize she was giving it to him. His brows rose in question and a small smile appeared on his face. Hadn't they just established that he'd lost the credit card? "That's what I said," he remarked with amusement.
"Yes it is," Haley returned dryly. "So, you didn't, umm, I don't know, 'get rid of it' because we don't use it anymore?" she pressed, quoting his exact words.
His smile faded at the familiar words. That was what he'd originally said, wasn't it? And his wife had just cleverly called him out on it, tricking him into tripping himself up.
"Because you also said that," Haley continued as if he needed that reminder. "Maybe you could explain to me how both of those versions could be true," she said flatly. "Or are they both lies?"