Disclaimer: I own nothing unfortunately. Not even the computer I type on.
Author's Note: I 've had this idea spinning in my head for a while, and decided to go ahead and post it today. The first few chapter might be a little scattered, but that's done on purpose. You'll soon figure out the rest as the story progresses. Trust me. Hope You enjoy, and a BIG thanks to Janet for my wonderful banner!
There are choices we make when we think it won't count. And things we do when we believe nobody is watching. But sometimes in that one second when the line between right and wrong is blurred, we change our lives without even skipping a beat. It's only then, in looking back, that we are truly able to see what road we should've taken, and what road we now walk upon.
The Outside World is of No Concern
Nathan never lets himself get bored. He never has to. He's rich, good looking, and star of the basketball team. He has precedence in his highschool, dominance over others. He can get anything he wants whenever he wants and no one will complain. They wouldn't even dare it. He has all the commodities readily accessible to him when he wants. He is a superstar, among a town of small people. And everyone knows it.
Most days he fills his time with basketball. Practicing, playing games, watching it on ESPN, whatever. When he's not there, he holds parties at his large, but always conveniently empty house. He can be with or have anyone he wants. His name comes up often on the lips of a number of Tree Hill's most eligible and not so eligible female population. Most recently, with the school's number one resident beauty: Brooke Davis.
He doesn't have to find things to amuse himself with, because people usually find him first. He's not cocky when he says this. Ever since he was little, people have always flocked to wherever he was. It makes his father proud and worries his mother more than he cares to know. But he figures that's just the way things go.
Everyday he gets in his custom made Black Range Rover and drives from his gated home, all the way to the less nicer part of town where Tree Hill High school resides. He always parks in his usual spot at the front of the parking lot, the one that was saved for him his junior year when he single handedly won the State championships. He goes to his locker, picks out a notebook and a pen, leaves the textbooks, because they're too much bother to carry around, and he'll end grabbing notes from one of the straight-A students anyway, and then heads to first hour class. As usual, he is first stopped by his buddies' Tim and Vegas. They grumble back and forth about coach Whitey pounding their ass's at practice last night, and 'did anyone do the homework because they forgot?'
Brooke sidles up beside Nathan, amongst all the talking, and loops her arm around his like a little trophy wife. Nathan wonder if his friends can't decide whether to gag at the perfect picture of couple-dom he's fallen into lately, or cheer him on that he's getting laid, regularly, by the hottest girl in school. They show no opinion, regardless.
As his buddies continue their meaningless babble back and forth, he can feel Brooke stretch up on her tip toes to whisper something naughty in his ear. This makes him smirk down at her and she smiles.
In the distance the first warning bell for class can be heard and students all over the hallway begin to scatter to class like six-legged insects.
Nathan's in no hurry though. He stays behind, and lets Brooke sticks her tongue down his throat, lets her hands roam over his back, down and around his ass, until they glide to the front of his crotch where she gives it a quick little squeeze, before pecking him once more on the mouth.
He's about to tell her he'll see her later, but he doesn't want to make that kind of commitment so early in the day. Instead he gives her a little pat on the butt and makes his way to History.
After school he shoots baskets while the other boys sit on the bleachers during break time. They yell at him to sit down, chill out, give it a rest, but he ignores them. If there's anything he's learned from his overbearing, generally obsessive, wanna-be father, it's that perseverance is the road to success. So let the boys take their breaks, he thinks. When he's front and center in the NBA, nobody will have the balls to ever yell at him then. He'll be a God among men.
He moves farther back on center court as this thought floats through his head. He brings his arms up smoothly, positions his hands correctly over the ball and effortlessly shoots.
It's all net.
But that's nothing new for him either.
When he gets home later that night, the house is dark and empty. On the outside it looks gothic like, and intimidating. On the inside it's just hallow.
Nathan wonders for a brief second where his father is, before he decides he really doesn't care. His mother, the actual absentee parent of the two is somewhere in upstate New York at the moment. Doing some charity work for homeless starving children, living in third world countries. She's helping to make the world a better place she tells him before she leaves. He smiles back at her wistfully, and nudges her out the door a little bit faster than usual.
She's helping to make the world a better place -- Yeah, one-neglected child at a time, right mom-- Nathan thinks. And then goes about his regular business, notifying his friends, rechecking with his connections, using his speed dial to make sure the keg will be at his house before ten o'clock this time.
Nathan figures in the long run, he should probably be a nicer to his mother when she comes home next. Then decides, it doesn't much matter, and heads up the long spiral staircase in the foyer that leads up his room, to take a shower.
He tries not to think too much when he's alone like this, his only company the sound of water hitting the porcelain tub. Thoughts break through regardless though. Practice that day, his missed free throws, Jake's bad defense, Kerri Allen's invitation to come over this weekend, his father's constant nagging, Brooke's hands on his body, his mother's continual absence, soft lips and smooth skin, warm breath against his neck, soothing words in his ear, his overdue English paper. He shuts it all out. Figures if he can't focus on the thoughts that do give him satisfaction, he won't think about anything then.
When he gets out, his silver and black covered flip phone is vibrating on top of his dresser drawers. He picks it up and checks who it is. Brooke. Again.
He could really go for a good lay right about now, but he isn't quite so sure he's ready to deal with the endless amounts of chatter that will spew out of her mouth before they get there. He remembers Jackie. Jackie was a blonde petite waitress he'd met one crazy night after a game with the Huskies at a club outside of Chapel Hill. She wasn't very bright. She had big breasts, and a decent face, but she was as dull as a bag of rocks. She also didn't talk much. Something he came to greatly appreciate throughout their time together. Brooke on the other hand is gorgeous and great in bed. She, however, likes to talk. Too much. Which Nathan hates.
He's getting tired of their relationship. Tonight. In general.
Right now though he needs to make a decision, and both of his options consisting of actually talking to her or not answering the phone will result in an uphill battle either way. And so taking the easy road as always, Nathan flicks open his phone.
"Yeah," he spits out, his voice low and filled with irritation.
"Where the Hell were you? I've been calling you for the last two hours," Brooke screams back at him into the receiver, and he has to pull it away from his ear it's so loud. He rolls his eyes and sets the phone close to his face again when she appears to have calmed down.
"I was out. What do you want," he replies, but it comes out more mellow than it sounds inside his head. He can hear her huff and puff across the line, considers hanging up right then and there, until she speaks again. This time her voice is softer. Takes on a kitten-ish like quality as she purrs to him.
"For you to come over."
"You come over here," he beats back without even flinching, throwing the towel he had wrapped around his waist into a pile of clothes in the corner of his room. The hamper sitting empty only two feet away.
"Why," she whines at him, as he grabs a pair of boxers, slips them on and then slides down onto his bed. The heat from his shower is still seeping out into his adjoining bedroom, keeping him sufficiently warm and relaxed. He could almost fall asleep if he wanted. Yet there's still Brooke.
"Because I said so," he lets his eyes flutter closed in the semi-darkness of his room, the only light coming from the bathroom.
Brooke pauses and then snaps. "You're such a dick," she barks at him and thinks about ending the conversation then and there, gives it a good ten seconds of thought and then realizes she wouldn't get to see him if she did, so she waits for his reply.
"Whatever. Talk to you later Brooke," he says and snaps his phone shut, ending it himself. Sure he might get bitched at when she gets there, but at least he doesn't have to get up.
The next morning when he comes downstairs, his father is sitting at the island in the kitchen, the sports page in one hand, and a black coffee in the other. Nathan goes straight for the fridge, grabs a bottle of apple juice and takes a seat at the counter.
"The next time you have friends spend the night son, remember to close your door. I don't appreciate getting woken up in the middle of the night," Dan turns a page of his paper, and sips at his coffee gingerly.
Nathan shrugs even though it goes unnoticed and reaches across the counter to grab a bagel. He bites into it roughly, tries to remember his plans for this weekend. He thinks Tim got them tickets to a Sugarcult concert, but he can't be sure.
"Nathan," Dan Scott calls to him, and he glances up. "Did you hear what I said?"
"Yeah," he nods definitely and begins to get up. Time for school, means time to leave. It's not the best escape, but it'll do.
Dan has the courtesy to acknowledge his son as he's getting ready to leave. He reminds him of his game on Friday, and tells him he has to work on his conditioning some more. Scouts are coming soon. If he wants to play for a good college team he better be ready to give a 110% to everything. Got that?
Nathan nods again, says "Got it," and picks his backpack up before he leaves. He wonders if all parents don't say goodbye to their children when they leave for school.
At school he completely forgets his math homework, and when Mr. Howard asks him where it is he just shrugs as per usual. It gets a few laughs from some kids in class, but his teacher looks none too happy. After class Mr. Howard comes up to him as he's leaving.
"Nathan, can I have a moment with you please," he looks earnest, and oh so helpful and Nathan wants to laugh. These guys gotta know that their sympathy is for shit. Well-intentioned gestures and expressions doesn't get anyone anywhere, this Nathan knows.
He sighs long and deep. He doesn't even try to appear concerned. "Yeah."
"How's the team doing," Mr. Howard asks, and he seems to really be interested. So Nathan tells him about their scores, their chances of winning State, and how they've only lost one game all year, so it's looking pretty good for them.
Mr. Howard blinks his small beady brown eyes, and nods his head, his unruly brown hair flowing into his face at weird angles. "Well keep up the good work ok, and try to get your homework done," he pats Nathan on the back and then heads to his desk.
Nathan says 'thank you', and then makes his way to lunch. He looks down at the blank worksheet he turned in for homework, and half expects to see a zero on the front instead of the 'EXEMPT' that is written there. He cracks a smile at how spineless the teachers in this town are when it comes to sports, and throws the sheet in the trash can as he walks by.
Later that day at practice he causes three fouls and gets into a fight with Jarred Stewart. He ends up arguing with Whitey for twenty minutes for asking him to leave practice early, and all that gets him is kicked out of the gym.
He thinks about just going home and shooting a few hoops, but doesn't want to run the risk of seeing his father there. He'd have to explain why he was home so early, and it just wouldn't be worth the trouble. So he goes to the locker room to change back into his street clothes.
In the hallway, he goes to his locker and picks a few books out. He remembers he's got a paper due in English by next Monday that he hasn't even started on. It's supposed to be about some Russian poet, or maybe it was a French Poet, he can't recall. He shoves a good amount of papers and books into his bag, and is in the process of zipping it up when he turns around sees her.
She's standing across the hall from him, a little to his right, and she's rifling through her own locker. The Hallway is empty and bright in the late afternoon, and only a few students scuttle around by the staircase at the opposite end of the hall. Nathan thinks about how predictable things are getting to be lately. And how that needs to change. He needs to find something, a distraction maybe, or a new toy. He's not sure yet.
As if on Que with his thoughts, the petite brunette he's watching begins to shove her arms full of books into her locker. He can see that if she isn't careful the entire pile might tip over and fall to the ground, but she seems to be handling it with a infinitesimal amount of grace. Nathan watches her in fascination, the curves of her body, and the flow of her hair. She's shorter than most girls he's dated, her movements somewhat clumsy yet intriguing. Her hair pulled away from her face in a messy ponytail that falls onto her tomboyish blue shirt and plain jeans. She's mismatched all over and it makes Nathan chuckle to himself.
Still, despite the nerdy exterior, the horrible hairdo, the ugly clothes, she wasn't bad to look at. In fact, she was actually quite stunning underneath it all. He wonders why no one has ever noticed her before, or if he's just always this fortunate.
Leaning back against the wall to continue his view, he watches until she finally gets all those books stuffed into her locker, picking up a few that had fell here or there, and giving Nathan a small peek of her creamy white back, as she bends over.
When she turnes around slamming the locker door shut, her face flushed, wisps of her hair hanging in her eyes, the first thing she sees is Nathan starring at her.
Never one to be modest, he simply smirkes, and gives her a quick head nod.
Taken off guard, she doesn't acknowledge his greeting, like he knew she wouldn't. Instead she just continues on her way down the hall, her steps uneven and quick like a mouse.
Nathan intentionally follows her into the second story Library out of interest. It's a rather foreign place to him all other things being considered, and seeing as he has nothing better to do, he's curious to see what she's up to. He remembers a few trips here, them mostly consisting of him and Tim goofing off, waiting till the teacher wasn't looking and skipping out of class. Taking a closer look now, it feels a little bit more mysterious, or maybe even forbidden. All these high racks, filled with books, and dark corners where the light just isn't able to reach. It's a wonder this place isn't filled with more students during the day.
Sitting her bag onto an open table, and then treading back to one of the corner racks, Nathan follows behind the girl nonchalantly, trying to appear as if he has purpose, but not really wanting to hide himself either.
When he moves down the last isle, he see her standing, flipping through a small paperback, her eyes intent on what she's reading. Nathan stares at her for a moment and expects her to look up at him, say something, or possibly even roll her eyes. But she doesn't. She stays put, eyes focused and unwavering.
Nathan takes a quick peek at the cover of her book, and slides forward. "Are you using that book, because I need it," he says smoothly, and with the utmost charm.
She looks up at him now, her eyes big and brown and not amused. "Excuse me?"
"I said," he smiles at her, flashing all of his pearly white teeth, his body standing tall and proud above her, "Are you using that book? Because I need it for a paper."
"You need this book? This exact book," she holds it up in front of him, and he forces himself not to laugh at her total attitude towards him. Her complete indifference. He finds it highly entertaining.
"Yeah that book," he replies, and starts to reach for it. She pulls her arm back sharply and her brow creases in question.
"Seeing as there are two other copies on the shelf behind me, can I just ask why you need this one so desperately," she challenges, and crosses her arms in front of her. If nothing else Nathan can give her credit for her determination. It's been a long time since anyone's been able to refuse him something he wanted. And it's definitely not going to start now, and not with her.
"I need it because you're holding it," he says sickly sweet tone, moving forward until he's completely in her comfort zone, his board chest inches from her face.
She has the decency to appear shocked, all though he knows she's not, "Are–are you hitting on me, or are you just generally this much of a jerk?"
"Neither actually," Nathan laughs. "I just need the book."
"Well you can't have it. I picked it up first."
"That's very mature of you," he counters, breathing down on her. She tries to focus on his words and not his body heat. She steps back a little, her face still set in stone, but she can feel her cheeks becoming hot.
"What? As apposed to you following me down this isle, waiting for me to pick up the book and deciding you need it?"
Nathan moves closer to her again, and she steps back almost touching the wall at the end of the isle. He tries to appear empathetic
"Ok it's like this: I have a paper due tomorrow and this book is the one I want. So hand it over, and I promise to give you whatever you want."
She rolls her eyes and tries to step away, but her back hits the wall. She straightens up and looks him right in his gorgeous blue eyes. "I highly doubt there's anything you have that's of any interest to me."
"Is that right," Nathan questions, his mouth curled into a naughty smirk.
She nods, even as he moves in on her, placing his arm against the wall by her head and leaning down, so that their faces are inches apart.
Her heart starts booming inside her chest and she considers saying no, but she refuses to give someone like Nathan Scott the satisfaction."Yeah that's right," she says confidently, and he looks at her somberly and begins to pull away.
Her eyes flutter closed for a second.
"Well just to be sure, why don't we test your theory then," and before she can open her eyes, he's scoops her face up in the palm of his hand and pushes her all the way against the wall roughly, their lips colliding like thunder.
His kisses are jagged and hungry on top of her mouth, and he can feel her lips motionless and cold.
He can't tell if she's shocked by his sudden actions or aroused by them, because before he can move away he feels her begin to suck on his bottom lip, her whole body coming alive.
Responsive to her light touches and soft mouth, he leans into her small body. She pushes him away when his weight becomes too much. Gasping for breath, her eyes are confused, yet wanting. He thinks maybe he pushed to far this time and half expects her to walk away.
But she stays still beside the racks, her breathing erratic, but her body relaxed. She straightens out her shirt and runs a hand through her hair, she can feel Nathan's eyes on her, searching her.
"Whoa! What the Hell was that," she sputters out, trying her damndest not to look surprised, despite the twinkle of lust that's shining in her eyes and over her pink tinted cheeks. "Did you sprout a second libido today Nathan, or are you just bored?"
A rich silky toned laugh, barrels out of Nathan's chest at her response and he figures she liked his aggressiveness today. Sauntering back over to her again, he shoots his arm out and pulls her body flush against his. "Me? Bored with you Haley James?.......Never." She finally smiles up at him at that, and then his mouth is on hers, and he's kissing her again.