Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or any of its characters.

A/N: Hey everybody! I'm back! Thanks to everybody who read and especially those of you who left a review. It is very much appreciated. I have a ton of stories and messages to catch up on now, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer while I do that. LOL. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Love ya!

"Nathan, wait!" Peyton called out frantically.

He paid her no heed and stopped only once he'd reached his car. Taking hold of one arm, she turned him around, flinching when she caught the dark, stony expression on his face. From the house to the driveway he'd gone from saddened to positively outraged. So much so that his body shook from the intensity of his emotions. She'd seen him angry plenty of times, but never like this.

He pulled away from her and pounded his fist to the hood of his car. "Is that what we were, Peyton?" he shot out irately. "What I was? A faceless jock?"

"No! Nathan, listen…"

"Cuz that would explain why you always listen to everybody else except me!"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I told you that was your mom in the picture, didn't I?"

Her eyes narrowed as her features clouded over with confusion. What did that have to do with anything? "Yeah, you…"

"But you didn't fucking believe me!" he cut her off spitefully. "You kicked me out of your house because I wanted you to look at it!" he continued, his voice as cold as steel. "But Haley, hell, if she said it, it must be worth checking out, right!"

"Nathan," she spoke softly as she reached for him. She'd had no idea this had bothered him.

He recoiled fiercely when she touched him. "And your sketches," he continued. "If it had been me who turned them in, you would have had my head. You even said so. But since it was Lucas, it's all cool, huh!"

"No, I wasn't cool with it," she said defensively. "You know that!"

"Yeah, well, you got over it pretty damn quick seeing as they're in print less than a week later."

She crossed her arms over her chest and fixed him with a pointed stare. "This is just your ridiculous, ongoing jealousy for Lucas again!" she shouted. "And now Haley too?"

"No," he denied vehemently. "This is about you never taking anything I say seriously unless you hear it from someone else too. I told you, I don't know how many times, to do something with your art and every time you got pissed at me."

"And how often did you call my art a waste of time?" she snarled back.

"Because you weren't doing fuck all with it!"

"Well now I am," she snapped.

"What? Your stupid comic strip? What a joke. Your stuff belongs in a fancy art gallery somewhere, not in some unknown town's third rate magazine."

She blinked in surprise at his comment, but he wasn't done.

"But I guess you couldn't trash yourself, your friends, your ex-boyfriend and even your mom that way."

"Leave my mom out of this."

"Why? You didn't. She's the reason you became a cheerleader, right? Because she was one? Isn't that what you said?"

"Yes, but…"

"So not only did you degrade our entire relationship with a fucking cartoon drawing, but your parents' as well."

"No, I didn't…I wasn't…trying to."

"Well, you did."

"Look, Nathan, I was in a dark place when I drew that picture. I was pissed off at the world, you in particular, and…I was just letting off steam. It's not how I really feel."

He was shaking his head, denying her claim. "Then why didn't you lock it away in your drawer with your million other private ones?" he asked in a biting tone. "Why submit it to the magazine for the whole damn town to see?"

"What does it matter?" she questioned. "It's anonymous. Nobody knows it's my drawing."

He sneered at her comment. "Right, nobody but Lucas and oh, the faceless jock himself. But yeah, what does that matter? It's not like his opinion's worth shit anyway."

She took a deep, calming breath to settle her nerves. "Nathan, will you just listen for a minute?"

"Actually," he said, taking her by the arms and pushing her up against the car, "I'm more in the mood for some of that meaningless sex," he stated harshly as his head bent and hovered just over hers. "How 'bout it, cheerleader?"

She was taken aback by the sudden move but before she could utter a word of protest, his lips were on hers, hungrily tasting the sweet nectar of her mouth. She wanted to pull away – knew she should – but his kiss was too intoxicating and she responded with an urgency that left them both nearly senseless.

He groaned into her mouth when her hands reached up to caress his chest. His own came around to cup her buttocks and draw her closer against him so that she could feel his entire length. And then it was her turn to moan.

He broke away from her lips to trail breathless kisses down her neck to her collarbone and she tilted her head back to allow him more access. "You're really gonna let me, huh," he whispered huskily once his mouth had made its way back up to her ear. "You're gonna let me fuck you right here."

That's when she noted the ice in his tone, in his callous words and she suddenly pulled back, flabbergasted. It wasn't where they were that stunned her – although sensibly she knew sex in their friend's driveway during a crowded party wasn't the brightest idea – but more his crude choice of words. 'You're gonna let me fuck you right here.' Fuck. Like she was some cheap whore. "Stop," she murmured weakly.

But he pulled her back in roughly. "Come on, don't be a cock teaser," he said harshly. "It wouldn't be very cheerleader-y. At least not according to your depiction."

And for reasons she'd never fully comprehend, when his lips claimed hers once more, she responded with the same fervor as she had the first time. Until he quoted the fourth drawing from the comic strip.

"And don't forget to smile."

She pushed him away with all her strength, crushed to realize that he was just toying with her.

"What's the problem?" he asked bitingly. "Am I not faceless enough for you?" His eyes were hard and devoid of compassion as he stared at her coldly. "Sorry, I left my hat at home, but just close your eyes and you won't see a thing."

Her jaw nearly hit the ground at his cutting remark. They'd had their fights – lots of them – and often times they'd both get so riled up that their tongues would slip and they'd say things they didn't mean, but this wasn't like that. Yes, he was angry but his words were deliberately cruel. He was trying to hurt her. He wanted to hurt her. She opened her mouth to speak but found herself at a loss for words. How did she counter such a verbal attack from the boy she loved? Especially when she never thought he'd be so upset over one of her drawings.

Nathan didn't suffer from her apparent speech impediment nor did he hold anything back. "And when we see each other next," he snarled, "you can just give me the cold shoulder. It's kinda been your ongoing routine for the past few weeks so I'm getting used to it."

"Oh, my ongoing routine," she finally snapped. "What about yours for the past year? If I degraded our relationship with a picture, then what have you done with every skank in town?"

"Yeah, turn it right back on me. That's a hell of a lot easier than admitting that you're at least partly to blame for everything," he said furiously. "Maybe I went to other girls because you were so wrapped up in your own little world half the time that you barely even noticed that I was around."

"Unbelievable! Excuse me for having interests outside of you! I didn't know the girlfriend requirement was to bow down to your every whim."

He rolled his eyes at what he considered a huge exaggeration on her part. "That's not what I'm saying. But sometimes you'd go days where all you wanted to do was draw or put your headphones on and listen to music. So what the hell was I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"Why, go screw the next thing in a skirt, naturally," Peyton threw out sarcastically. "I am so sorry for making you cheat. Obviously it was all my fault."

"I didn't say that."

"Oh, so now I can't hear right either. I guess I'm just one big failure."

"All I meant was that it's nice to be looked at like you're actually wanted."

"And I didn't do that," she challenged, putting her hands on her hips.

"A lot of times it felt like you wished I would just disappear."

"Ok, well, you know what you didn't do?" she countered. "Tell me any of this when I asked. I always wondered what was wrong with me that made you always turn to others, but you would never give me a straight answer," she hollered, angry tears starting to spill down her cheeks. "You just stuck with 'it didn't mean anything' or 'it was just sex'. I asked you over and over what I could do to improve our sex life, to keep you satisfied, but you'd never answer me. You never told me a damn thing other than it's perfect!"

"Because the sex was never the problem, Peyton. There wasn't anything to improve."

"Then why didn't you say any of this stuff before? Why let me keep thinking I wasn't enough?"

"I wasn't trying to make you feel like that. I told you that wasn't it. I always said that."

"But that's the logical assumption when you keep going elsewhere for sex and won't give a reason why."

"I didn't mean…I just…I knew if I said anything about your art or music that you'd freak out."

"So," Peyton began. "By your way of thinking, any time I went to your place and you started shooting hoops in the driveway instead of paying undivided attention to me, then I had just cause to go out and cheat on you."

"What? No!"

"Why not? If it works for you, why shouldn't it for me?"

"Considering you broke up with me, it obviously didn't work for me either," he countered. "And plus I don't shut you out when I play like you do to me when you do your thing."

"Maybe because I don't sit there complaining about the lack of attention. I don't hound you about all the time you're wasting when we could be messing around instead."

"There's no reason to. I don't ignore you when I'm practicing and I let you talk to me."

"That's ridiculous. I let you talk to me."

"Not without getting annoyed or shooting me these dirty looks telling me to shut up. And that's when you even hear me."

"I only do that because you try to annoy me on purpose so I'll put my sketch book away."

"Because when I go to your house, it's to spend time with you, not sit around staring at your walls."

"I didn't realize I had to keep you entertained every second," she shot back. "And you obviously didn't stare long enough to notice when I took all my sketches down, did you? No, you were too busy whining about Lucas and your dad, as usual."

He shook his head and grunted softly. "You gonna point out every single thing I've done wrong?"

"Why? You got a couple years?"

"You know, you're a real fucking bitch sometimes," he said, his mouth forming a tight, rigid line.

"And you're an ass all the time," she returned hotly. "Guess that makes us almost even."

"Then why'd you follow me out here if I'm such an ass? Why'd you visit me in jail? Why'd you kiss me? Hell, why'd you stay with me for a year?"

"Because I'm an idiot," she exclaimed. "An idiot who thought, maybe, one day you'd change."

"Yeah, well maybe instead of trying to fix me, you should take a look at yourself for a change. You're not exactly miss perfect."

"Ok, I never tried to fix you. All I ever asked of you was honesty and faithfulness and you couldn't do it. And I don't buy your lame excuses either. And besides that, I never said I was perfect."

"No, but you never have to own up to your mistakes like I always have to, do you? And how are your excuses any better than mine? You submitted a cartoon dissing everyone you claim to care about because, quote, 'you were mad'. How's that for lame?" Nathan ranted. "You usually are pissed about something or other so I expect next week's issue to be more of the same. Oh, but no one should take it personally, right, since it's not how you really feel."

"I didn't mean it, ok," she snapped. "I know it was stupid to submit that sketch and I don't know why I did. But at the moment, I wasn't thinking clearly. You, of all people, should understand that. I'd just found out about you and Ashley and…"

"I didn't fucking touch Ashley," he shot out irately. "And don't talk to me about lame excuses and then throw rumors at me to justify your actions. That's just another way for you to pin the blame on me and I'm sick of it. Ok, yeah, I screwed up a lot, but that sketch is on you. Even if I had hooked up with her like you insist on believing, it still doesn't make what you did right. Like you said yesterday, we're not together anymore so I can do whatever the hell I want, which also means that you have no right to get pissed off about it."

"Oh wow," she said sarcastically. "A lecture on anger from the king of temper tantrums himself. And you wonder why I don't put much stock in your words."

"Your temper's just as bad as mine, Peyton. And not just with me either. I've seen you get into some serious cat fights."

"I never put anyone in the hospital," she countered snarkily.

"Doesn't mean you won't some time."

"I'd like to think I have a little more restraint than that, thanks. If you haven't noticed, most of my emotions are channeled into my sketches."

"Yeah, so after all the bitching, screaming and punching, you can hurt people with a drawing too. You really think that's so much better than breaking a few bones? You think if it's not a physical pain, it's somehow less? Well, guess what? It's not. It's actually worse."

"Trust me, I'm well groomed on internal pain," Peyton shot out. "Besides all the tragedies in my life, you've certainly dished it out to me on a regular basis."

"You're not the only one who feels shit, you know. You've hurt me plenty of times too. Especially in the last month."

"Well, payback's a bitch, isn't it?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and she really couldn't say why.

She turned on her heels to walk away because they were both too angry and were getting nowhere. She wondered why she'd even bothered coming out to try to explain.

He grabbed her arm to stop her in her tracks. "Is that what this has been?" he demanded to know. "Payback?"

Her chin lifted defiantly. "So what if it has?" she asked coolly. Again the words spilled out. It was so far from the truth and yet she couldn't seem to stop herself. "You're not the only one who can break hearts."

His grip tightened when she attempted to pull out of his grasp. "So, this whole month, with all your back and forth crap, you've just been jerking me around?"

"Be thankful it was only a month," she said. "I had a year of it."

"You really are a bitch," he said before another voice broke through.

"Let her go, Nathan."

Nathan glanced over to see Lucas standing there, arms crossed and his blood boiled. Couldn't the guy ever mind his own damn business? He released Peyton instantly, but not because he was told to, and approached his half brother. "You've got about three seconds to walk away before I beat your ass," he threatened. "Fuck bail conditions."

But before he could do anything he might later regret, Jake was at his side, pulling him back. "Come on, buddy," Jake urged him away.

Nathan stole another glance at Peyton, who now stood beside Lucas. "The hell with this," he muttered miserably before Jake led him back toward the house.

"I wasn't hurting her," Nathan told Jake, infuriated that Lucas had felt the need to step in as though Peyton were in grave danger.

"I know, Nate," Jake replied. "I know."

"You can let go now," Nathan said. "I'm cool."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Jake let him go and gave him a supportive slap on the back. "You did good," he said encouragingly. "I didn't have to knock you out or anything."

Nathan gave him a half-hearted smile before spotting Ashley on the deck, watching him. He walked over to her, one purpose in mind – to bury his pain and anger in her warm and willing body. He had no doubt that her previous offer still stood, despite the quick brush off he'd given her.

–––––

Meanwhile, still in the driveway, Lucas had just asked Peyton if she were ok.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Not really," she replied.

Luke narrowed his eyes. "Did he hurt you?" he asked, indicating the arm Nathan had been grasping.

"You mean physically?" she asked in surprise, to which he nodded. "No," she assured him. "He never has. He's not like that."

He nodded, and was about to ask about her emotional state when he noticed she suddenly stared straight ahead. He glanced over to see what had captured her attention. Nathan and some girl making out on the deck, their hands all over each other.

"You want me to get you a drink?" Lucas asked just as the other two made their way inside, no doubt to one of the bedrooms upstairs.

Peyton shook her head. "Can you just take me home?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"Sure," Luke complied sympathetically. The ride home was silent, with Peyton barely holding herself together and Lucas not pressing her to talk.

––––––––––––––––––––

Larry was sitting on the front steps when they pulled in and Peyton simply brushed past him into the house, obviously upset. "What happened?" the older man asked Lucas.

Lucas sighed, unsure of what to say. "She kinda had a run-in with Nathan," he said simply. If Peyton wanted to reveal more, that was up to her.

Larry was shaking his head and muttering under his breath before he thanked Lucas for taking his daughter out and seeing her home safely.

Once Lucas left, Larry stood at her closed bedroom door, just listening. He could hear her sobbing and his heart nearly shattered to pieces. Damn that Nathan Scott. How many more tears would his precious little girl shed over this kid?

A/N: Ok, I know what you're thinking…or at least I think I know what you're thinking. Nathan and Peyton are getting further apart than closer together. Am I right? Well, it's kind of true, but trust me, it's all a part of the plan and steps they must go through before they can find their way back to each other and truly function as a couple. And don't worry, even though it's taking forever for them to get back together, I promise you when they finally do, the story is not over. So it's not going to be, they're back together, the end. LOL. I love my NP so I couldn't end the story when they're finally together again. Haha. Anyway, I think I've rambled enough. Sorry about that.