A/N: Thank you again to everybody who is reading this and special thanks to all of you who take time to leave a review. Your feedback is greatly appreciated, good or bad. Love you guys.
Hope you enjoy this chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or any of its characters.
Haley approached her regular table in the quad, where Luke, Skills, Mouth and Junk already sat. She plopped down on the seat beside Luke in exasperation. "Is today over yet?"
The four boys threw her a look of wonder. Classes for the day hadn't even begun and Haley James was never one to complain about anything school related. The girl absolutely loved school.
"Bad tutoring session?" Lucas asked, knowing she'd had an early morning session in the tutor center.
"I swear if he asks me out one more time, I'm going to scream," Haley grumbled. "I mean, how many times does a girl have to say no thank you, before the guy gets it?"
"Damien still?" Lucas questioned, knowing she'd been having problems with the guy.
"Who else?" Haley answered with a nod. "You know, I'm trying to be polite about it and all, so I don't, you know, bruise his male ego, but I think I've made myself quite clear that I'm not interested."
"What's the matter, Haley?" Junk teased. "Not into the whole popular jock thing?"
"Not that one at least," she fumed.
"Oh, so if it were Nathan," Mouth joked, remembering how she'd ogled him in the gym that day.
Haley sighed. She wasn't in any mood to be teased. "Look, I'll say this again; I do not have a crush on Nathan. He's eye candy. That's it. End of story. Got it?"
"Ok, ok," Mouth surrendered. "I was just kidding."
Haley's shoulders slumped as she instantly regretted her sharp tone. "I know, Mouth. I'm sorry. I'm just so frustrated with this whole situation with Damien. I mean, yeah, at first it was flattering that this jock was interested in me, his nerdy little tutor, but he's not letting up. And he gets this look in his eyes every time I say no." She shuddered at the thought of it. "It just creeps me out."
"What are you saying, Hales?" Lucas asked in concern. "That you're actually afraid of this guy?"
"Well yeah, sort of," she admitted. "I can't pinpoint why though. He hasn't done anything that would normally scare me. It's just a feeling I get when we're alone in the tutor center."
"Yo, Hales, I'd say it's time to quit tutoring him if he's messing you up like that," Skills advised.
"But I can't quit," Haley informed him. "I was assigned as his tutor by Principal Turner."
"Then get him reassigned to someone else," Lucas told her. "You can't keep working with a guy who makes you feel uncomfortable."
"I'll have to if things don't change," Haley agreed. "But I told him something today that hopefully will make a difference."
"What?" the four guys asked in unison.
Haley glanced hesitantly at Lucas and then proceeded to blurt out. "That my boyfriend, Luke, and I are in a committed, monogamous relationship."
Lucas grinned in amusement. "Now, Hales, how many times am I going to have to pretend to be your boyfriend?" he asked, remembering she'd told that same story at the beginning of high school in fear of any guy asking her out.
"And how come the rest of us don't get that chance?" Junk asked, with Skills and Mouth in agreement.
"Because I'm better looking than you three," Lucas boasted with a grin.
"Yo, watch it, dog," Skills warned. "I see them Scott genes showing through."
Lucas chuckled, standing up and grabbing his bag at the sound of the bell.
–––––––––––––––––––––––––
Damien clenched his fists tightly as he watched Haley walk into the school with Lucas Scott. As if being turned away by Peyton, for Nathan, wasn't bad enough, now he was being shot down by Haley, for Lucas. His hatred for these damn Scotts was rapidly growing. Something had to be done. But what? He couldn't openly get revenge on Nathan. The guy was like a god in this school for some reason, so if Damien did him any direct harm, Nathan's loyal followers would be right there to back him up. No, he'd have to take a more roundabout approach to get to Nathan. He'd have to stick close to him and wait for an opportunity to strike. Which meant he'd have to apologize to him for the locker room incident, as well as to Peyton for trying to kiss her yesterday, even though it was her own damn fault for leading him on in the first place. The idea of apologizing to either of them didn't sit well with him, but if they both cut him completely out of their lives, then his chance for revenge was practically nil.
As for Lucas and Haley, well no one would care what happened to them. All he had to do was figure out a plan.
–––––––––––––––––––––––––
"What happened to you?" Dan asked Nathan when he showed up at home for their morning run. Dan had called his cell last night insisting Nathan needed to shape up for the next game to avoid a repeat of last game's catastrophe.
"Nothing," Nathan answered with a shrug.
"What does the other guy look like?" Dan asked knowingly.
"Worse than me"
Dan nodded, not surprised by the answer. It's exactly what he'd have said to his own father back in high school, hell, probably even now. "Does it hurt?" he questioned.
"Not really."
"Good, because you need to be in top form for tomorrow."
"Dad, the Eagles aren't that good."
"I know, but it's your chance to rectify the mess you've made of your scoring average last game."
Nathan rolled his eyes. "It only went down two points," he said. "I checked."
"Two points is two points. So it's 23 now?"
"Yeah."
Dan shook his head in disappointment. "I want it up to 26 with tomorrow's game."
Nathan frowned. "You know how many points I'd have to make to bring it up by three?"
"About thirty five, I'd say. Should be easy enough. Like you said, the Eagles aren't that good."
"Well yeah, but it's not like they're the Tigers. They don't suck that bad."
Dan sighed in aggravation. "Are you telling me you can't do it?"
"No…"
"Good, cause the last thing you need is a negative attitude. If you expect to fail, then you will. You understand that, son?"
"Yeah, I understand, Dad. It's just…"
"It's just nothing," he said firmly, indicating the subject was closed. "Now where have you been the last two nights?"
"At Peyton's"
"She took you back, did she?"
"I told you she would," Nathan responded.
"That you did," Dan agreed with a shake of his head. "Pretty damn cocksure of yourself, huh?"
"Yes," Nathan admitted freely.
"And the other girls?"
"What about them?"
"You know what about them," Dan replied, annoyed that his son was playing dumb.
Nathan sighed. "We going for a run or what?"
"Nathan…"
"Look, Dad, I heard your whole speech the other day, alright. I don't need a repeat."
"It seems you do," Dan contradicted. "You're taking advantage of the fact that she loves you enough to keep forgiving you. No girl deserves to be treated like that."
"And no guy should be forced to make a commitment he's not ready to make," Nathan argued.
Dan laughed. "Son, you don't want a commitment, then don't have a girlfriend."
Nathan rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. "It's not like she's my wife. You see a ring on my finger?" he asked, holding up his hand.
"Now that one goes both ways," Dan replied. "I never saw a ring on her finger either, but something tells me that if she did what you do, you'd go crazy."
"Whatever," Nathan mumbled back. "Let's just go," he added, breaking into a jog.
–––––––––––––––––––––––––
Nathan and Peyton lay in bed that evening, arms wrapped tightly around each other. Damien had apologized to them both today, although neither spoke of it to the other. Peyton had debated telling Nathan about her incident with Damien, but had thought better of it, knowing what his reaction would be. She felt partly to blame for Damien's actions – she had led him on, made him think he had a chance, so it wouldn't really be right to let her boyfriend loose on him. Plus, he'd apologized so everything was fine now. Except that she still felt that same feeling in the pit of her stomach in his presence, that voice in her head telling her this guy couldn't be trusted. She'd tried her best to shrug it off, not for Damien's sake, but for Nathan's. They were friends and Peyton didn't want to cause trouble between them. And yet she just couldn't shake the feeling that something was off with this guy.
"What time does your old man get here tomorrow?" Nathan asked. She'd told him her dad had called her again to confirm his leave.
"I'm not sure. It's usually some time in the evening. Why?"
"Just wondering. I don't want to be here when he gets home, so if it were in the morning, I'd have to go home tonight."
"Oh, no worries. He never comes in the morning." She smiled at him. "So you can stay," she said, leaning over to kiss him, a kiss he deepened immediately. She'd given up trying to push him away in order to save him from catching her cold. He didn't listen anyway.
"Peyton, you home?" they heard, before Rachel suddenly appeared in the doorway.
"Hey, I just brought your homework…" Rachel trailed off when she saw Nathan. Not that she was surprised, since she'd seen his car in the driveway. She'd known Peyton would take him back, but she hadn't expected to find them making out, considering Peyton was sick. Thank goodness they were fully clothed. Peyton glared at Rachel, knowing what the other girl was thinking, yet silently challenging her to say something about it.
"I brought your Math and English," she said, setting the books down on the desk. "So how are you feeling? Brooke said you had a cold," she asked, letting Peyton know she wasn't here to judge her decision. She didn't agree with it, but it was, after all, Peyton's choice.
"A little better," Peyton admitted, glad Rachel wasn't throwing an 'I TOLD YOU SO' at her. "But that could be the pills. They knock me out when I take them."
"Literally," Nathan said, still amused at how earlier she had been talking to him one minute and fast asleep the next.
"Well good. Lots of rest is what you need," Rachel said.
"That's what I keep telling her," Nathan said.
Peyton rolled her eyes. "It's just a cold, you know. I'm not on my last leg."
"I know," Nathan answered with a grin, lowering his lips onto hers.
"Get a room," Rachel teased.
"We got one. You're standing in it," Nathan joked.
"You know, you shouldn't be kissing her while she's sick," Rachel advised.
Nathan shrugged. "I want to," he replied simply.
–––––––––––––––––––––––––
Wednesday morning, Nathan stood at Peyton's kitchen counter, slicing various fruits that he'd purchased, and placing them on the food tray before him. He'd decided on this since his every attempt at cooking or providing a hot breakfast for her had failed. It was her birthday and he didn't want anything to go wrong this time. And what could go wrong with fruit, right? Just as the thought came to his mind, the knife slipped and cut into his finger.
"Ow! Shit!" he hollered, quickly pulling back from the food so as not to drip any blood onto it. He ran it under cold water, found himself a band-aid and went back to his task, much more carefully this time.
Once he'd finished, he stepped back to examine his handiwork. He frowned in displeasure. As careful as he'd been to place everything nicely and make it look like the picture he'd seen on the front cover of the cooking magazine at the grocery checkout line, it just looked like a bunch of different fruit thrown randomly onto a tray. He should have bought the damn magazine, he thought with a frustrated sigh. Instead he'd relied on his own memory. Bad choice.
He heard the front door open and looked up to see Brooke.
"Oh good, you're here," she said, letting herself in.
"You didn't know that? My car's right outside."
Ignoring his grumpy tone, she said, "I mean, good you're here, as in downstairs, not up there, with our sick birthday girl. How is she this morning?"
"I don't know. She hasn't woken up yet," Nathan answered. "But she was starting to feel better last night."
Brooke nodded. She knew that because she'd called her last night, apologizing profusely for not going to see her. Peyton had cut off her explanation as to why she hadn't, knowing that whenever Brooke got a cold, she couldn't shake it for weeks. Brooke's assurance that she'd be there if it were something more serious was also something Peyton hadn't needed to be told. She knew that.
Brook handed a gift bag to Nathan, which he took.
"Thanks, you shouldn't have," he couldn't resist joking, despite his sour mood over the tray arrangement.
"Very funny. Give it to Peyton for me. What's this?" she asked, looking at the array of fruit. "Did the produce department explode?"
Nathan scowled at her but Brooke could only laugh as she began rearranging the fruit. "That's better," she said smugly.
Nathan glanced at it, fully agreeing with Brooke's assessment. "That is better. Thanks, Brooke."
"Just make sure my name gets mentioned. Don't be taking all the credit," she joked. "Be grateful too, not too many wives would do this for their husband's girlfriend."
Nathan chuckled. "Ex-wife, remember?"
Brooke smiled, showing her dimples. "Well, even less ex-wives would do this for their ex-husband's new…old…whatever…girlfriend."
Nathan smiled at her. "You're the best ex-wife a guy could ask for," he said, looking over the tray again. "How do you girls do it? Make everything look so…fancy?"
"We have all sorts of hidden talents."
"Such as?" Nathan asked with a grin.
"Such as buying the best birthday gifts," she bragged. "No offense, but my present is gonna go over way better than this little fruit thing you got going, even if it is arranged fabulously."
Nathan laughed. "Oh, this isn't her present. This is just a bonus. Trust me, whatever's in that bag, it's not gonna top what I got her. Not even close."
"Oh yeah?" Brooke said, pulling out a garment from the bag. "See this shirt?" she asked, holding it up. "Peyton's been eyeing it for weeks, but she didn't want to buy it because it was too expensive."
Nathan shook his head, so she started taking out various other items she knew Peyton would love, but he scoffed at each one.
"Ok then, hotshot, show me what you got her." She rolled her eyes as he reached into his back pocket. "Ok, so the only thing small enough to fit in your pocket that would be better than my stuff is a ring…or the concert tickets," she added when he showed them to her. She slapped his arm hard. "You suck! I thought they were sold out! Where did you get them? And why didn't you tell me?"
Nathan laughed at her. "They were sold out. I've got my ways. And I didn't tell you because I didn't want Peyton to find out."
"Meaning I can't keep a secret?" she asked, almost hurt.
"Not from Peyton," Nathan answered.
Brooke crossed her arms over her chest. "I can too," she defended childishly, making Nathan laugh harder. "It's not funny. Why don't you just call me Tim from now on since you think I can't keep quiet any better than he can?"
Nathan stared at her in wonder. "Are you seriously mad or just acting?" he asked. He had to admit she was good so it was hard to tell the difference.
She threw him a scornful look.
"Ok, so you are. But why? I mean, you didn't tell me what you got her either until just now."
"That's different," she complained.
"How?"
"Because yours is better than mine," she whined. "She's totally gonna love your present more."
Nathan rolled his eyes. "You want me to add your name to it?"
Brooke's eyes lit up as her mood instantly changed. "Yes! That'd be great!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands. She gave him a quick hug. "You're the best!" she said, before pulling away and skipping toward the door. She opened it, but before bouncing out, in a burst of energy, she turned around to face him again. "Oh, and you can totally take full credit for the whole fruit thing."
Nathan shook his head upon her exit. He'd just been played by Brooke. Again. "I'm going to," he muttered to himself, slipping the tickets back in his pocket.
He glanced at the tray and was about to grab it, but as an afterthought, he went to the fridge and reached for the can of whipped cream, grinning mischievously as he did so. He set it in the middle of Brooke's effortlessly decorated display, took the entire thing, and made his way up the stairs, careful not to trip.
–––––
Already awake, Peyton sat up when she saw him."Uh oh," she said apprehensively when she noticed what he carried. What kind of disaster had he put together this time?
Nathan smiled, knowing what she was thinking. "Why don't you tell me what you really think?" he teased lightly.
She began an apology but fell silent when he set the tray on her lap.
"Happy Birthday, Beautiful," he said, placing a soft kiss on her lips before climbing in bed beside her.
It took her a few moments to find her voice. "Nathan, you did this?"
"You don't like it?" he asked, worried by her lack of response.
"No, I love it," she assured him. "Thank you," she added, kissing him sweetly on the cheek.
"Good," he said, smiling in relief. "Well, dig in."
She began picking at some of the fruit. After a while, she took the can of whipped cream in her hands. "What's this for?" she inquired with humor.
He grinned at her. "The strawberries. What did you think?"
"Oh, I thought maybe it was for this." She lifted his shirt and squirted the bottle; slowly licking the cream she'd sprayed onto his toned abs. Just as quickly, she pulled away, returning to her food with a careless shrug. "But hey, if you say it's for the strawberries..."
Nathan grabbed her wrist as she reached for the piece of fruit, and claimed her lips hungrily with his own. Soon their tongues began a dueling match, both fighting for dominance. As things heated up, Peyton took the tray and set it on her night table, but kept the can of whipped cream.
"Peyton," Nathan muttered between kisses, as she slid her hand inside his t-shirt.
"Hmm?"
"I have to be at practice in an hour."
"So we'll be fast," she replied breathily, trailing kisses from his stomach up to his chest."
"And I haven't given you your present yet."
"Later," she told him, continuing her ministrations.
Nathan swallowed hard. "Your dad will be here later," he argued weakly.
She didn't stop and so he gave up. Not that it was much of a fight. He slid his shirt over his head and they began playing around, taking turns spraying each other with the whipped cream.
It was a lot of fun, until the sudden sound of a male voice, clearing his throat, caused them to pull apart abruptly.
Peyton pulled the covers up instinctively even though nothing was showing. She stared at the figure in the doorway nervously. "Dad!"
