...🏀...

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟒

A sigh escaped my lips, and I wiped down the counter when a doorbell chimed. I lift my eyes, and a small smile graced my lips at my best friend.

"Hey, Luke," I said. I placed the rag in my hand down. "I haven't seen you since the party. Are you avoiding me?"

"A little," Lucas said.

A frown creased my brow. "Why?"

"Haley was telling me to take Nathan's side, and then I felt like you were too," Lucas said. "He's such a jerk, and I just wished you guys would see that."

"Listen, I'm not saying he's a saint, Luke," I clarified. "But you're a Raven now, and I just worry you'll be looking over your shoulder all the time."

"I get that," Lucas said, leaning his arm against the counter. "At least we can still be honest with each other."

I offer a firm nod. "Of course, Luke."

"So, if anything were going on with you—anything important or weird or confusing—I mean, you could still be honest with me about that, right?" Lucas said cautiously.

"Always, Luke," I reassured him.

Suddenly, my breath hitched. My blue ribbon tumbled from Lucas' hand, landing on the counter with a soft plop. Its baby blue color mocks me. I snatched it up, tracing the satin with trembling fingers.

"I thought I lost this," I blurted, blinking rapidly.

"You left it in his car," Lucas revealed flatly.

My gaze flew to his face, hurt blooming in my chest. I swallowed hard, worry twisting in my gut.

"Do you want to explain," Lucas grumbled, his voice laced with suspicion. "Because I'm thinking the worse here, Mya."

The words I needed, the explanations, were stuck in my throat.

"Did you know that after you left his car," Lucas continued, his voice low. "He drove into another car parked on the side of the road."

"No," I whispered, shaking my head.

"He was going to ditch it," Lucas said. "But, being the nice guy I am, I towed his and the other car to Keith's to fix it. To my surprise, I found one of your favorite hair ribbons in his car."

"Luke," I stammered.

"Mya," Haley's voice cut in. "How about you and Luke talk outside? You know, away from prying eyes."

I glanced around, noticing a few customers stealing curious glances. Hastily, I ripped off my apron, grabbed my jacket and ribbon, and rushed out of the cafe.

"Just explain to me why you were with Nathan," Lucas demanded when we were outside.

I zipped up my jacket, my voice strained. "He was giving Haley and me a ride home."

"I don't buy that." Lucas scoffed. I looked at him, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. "I mean, considering the past few weeks and what he's done..."

I folded my arms defensively. "I can't."

"You know how I feel about him, Mya," Lucas muttered, shaking his head and turning away.

"Fine, Luke!"I shouted, forcing him to stop. "I know how you feel about him."

"So why?" He demanded, his voice laced with confusion. "After everything he's done."

A single tear escaped my eye and traced a path down my cheek. "Because I'm doing it for you, Luke."

He blinked. "What?"

"I'm tutoring him, but only on the condition that he leaves you alone," I explained, my voice tight. "So yes, I understand you're angry, but believe me, I'm doing this for you."

With that, I spun on my heel and walked away, leaving Lucas speechless in my wake. The weight of my secret and the fear of losing my best friend pressed heavily on my chest.

...🏀...

"You didn't come to your brother's game."

Before he could speak, I scooped up Leila, her wails ceasing instantly in my embrace. "You mean the first game."

"Yes," Dad confirmed, a frown creasing his brow.

"Haley couldn't watch Leila. She had a shift at Karen's, and—" I started.

"So you skipped it altogether?" he cut me off, his tone accusatory.

I cradled Leila close, humming softly as I rocked her back and forth. "I made a choice, Dad."

"The wrong one, apparently," he scoffed.

My gaze darted towards the doorway as Mom entered, a gentle smile on her face. "Nap time, sweetheart?" she cooed at Leila.

I nodded gratefully, handing my precious daughter over. As Mom left with Leila, a wave of longing washed over me, a desire to escape the impending argument.

"You need to be there to support your brother." Dad lectured.

I hated it when he transformed into this version of himself. While I loved him dearly, basketball season was his kryptonite. All that mattered was getting scouts to notice Alex, not Nathan. It was a constant competition with Dan, a game Dad was determined to win at any cost.

His following words pulled me from my internal rant. "You seem overwhelmed," he observed. "Maybe a little too overwhelmed."

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come.

"I'm getting rid of your piano," he revealed.

The blood drained from my face. "Dad!" I shrieked, scrambling to my feet.

He raised a dismissive hand. Moments later, security guards materialized in the living room, heading straight for my beloved piano.

My breath hitched as they dismantled it, a crushing sensation blooming in my chest. They were taking away one of the few things that kept me grounded.

"It's for your own good," he said, touching my shoulder. "Besides, you shouldn't waste your time on something so frivolous anyway."

He left me reeling, surrounded by the wreckage of my dreams. Collapsing onto the couch, I buried my face in my hands, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Oh, honey." Mom sighed sympathetically.

My lips quivered. She settled beside me, her arms wrapped around me warmly. "Why is he so controlling?" I choked out, the question echoing the storm raging inside me.

"It's going to be okay," she murmured, stroking my hair. "I'll talk to him."

All I could do was cling to her, the silent sobs wracking my body as the unfairness of it all washed over me.

...🏀...

I frowned, staring up at the field house and wishing with everything in my heart that I could be home in my bed with Leila by my side. But on Dad's order, we all had to be at the father-son basketball game to watch so that we all knew that Dad still got it.

"It's just two hours, honey," Mom soothed, sensing my frustration.

"It doesn't feel like it," I sighed, twisting the bracelet beads between my fingers. Let's just get this over with."

"Have you been taking your meds?" She asked, concerned.

I met her gaze, a lie forming on my tongue. "Yes."

The truth was, I hadn't needed them since the piano. It had been my escape—a melody woven from the nightmares that haunted me, a sanctuary where I poured my anxieties onto the keys. Now, that solace was gone.

"I'll get us a seat." Mom said, walking from me to the school.

"Got a sec?" Nathan's voice reached my ears.

I sighed. "First, why did you crash your car."

Nathan looked at the field house, tensing. "Because I'm a jerk."

"I don't believe that," I told him. His eyes found mine. "Did you do it to get back at Lucas?"

He shook his head. "Every minute of my life is planned—classes, friends, parties. My dad orchestrates it all. I needed a moment of freedom, a crack in the facade."

If anyone could understand someone controlling their life, I did.

"Okay, what did you want me to see," I asked, curiosity piqued.

He unfolded a piece of paper and pointed to a circled number in red. "Check that out."

My lips pulled back into a smile. "84! Wow, Nathan."

He held out his arms, and I rolled my eyes before hugging him.

"I knew you could do it," I told him against his neck.

"Yeah," Nathan murmured against my ear.

I pulled back, brushing a wisp of my curly hair behind my ear. "I'll see you inside," I said.

I rushed into the building, ignoring Nathan's gaze on my back, looking for my mom in the crowd. A sigh escaped as I found her and walked up the bleachers before sitting beside her.

"I see Lucas is here." Mom noted.

I nodded. "Yeah."

We made up a few days ago, but I still felt like Lucas was mad at me.

I cleared my throat. "Luke!"

He ignored me.

I rolled my eyes. "Hey, Scott!"

I frowned at Lucas and Nathan, who turned and stared at me with basketballs in their hands. Nathan offered a half-smile before looking away. I raised my brows at Lucas, and he turned from me.

"I wonder what that was about," Mom murmured.

"Yeah," I muttered. "Me too."

The announcer's voice boomed through the gym, kicking off the game."Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. And welcome to the Tree Hill Ravens' father and son charity basketball game." A cheer echoed through the gym, and I clapped. "Tonight, we have special guests, basketball legend Matthew Evans and his son Alexander Evans, playing on opposing teams." I smiled at my brother on the other side of the gym. "The fathers battle the sons, and the winner gets bragging rights. Ravens son league MVP Nathan Scott. And for the fathers, the all-time leading scorer in the history of Tree Hill and a member of the state championship runner-up, put your hands together for Dan Scott."

I gazed at Nathan, who glanced at me, and all I could do was stare as Dan muttered to him. I watched the referee throw the basketball into the air, and Dan jumped, pushing the ball to his side.

As the game continued, I watched Dan and Dad mainly score for their team while Nathan and his teammates shared the ball. I clapped as my dad stole the ball from my brother and shot a three-pointer. Alex ran backward, and I gripped my hands tightly, hoping Dad wouldn't take it too far.

𝟏𝟕-𝟒𝟓

Once halftime was over, I rushed to Lucas before the second half started, wanting to know what was happening with my best friend.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked tentatively.

"I don't want to talk about it right now," Lucas grunted, avoiding eye contact.

I grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. "What did I do?"

"I saw you with him," Lucas said.

I furrowed my brows. "Nathan?" He nodded. "He got a good grade on an English quiz, so I hugged him. What's the big deal?"

"I want to believe you're just tutoring him," Lucas began, suspicion lacing his voice. "But you're not telling me the truth."

I crossed my arms defensively. "Nothing is going on with me and Nathan."

He cocked a brow. "Nice bracelet."

I looked at the beaded bracelet still around my wrist, which I didn't want to take off. I turned back to Lucas, but he shook his head before storming onto the court.

"Well, folks, an impressive showing for Dan Scott and Matthew Evans. The kids are just too much. How do you say we make this interesting? Let's make the score 0-0, and the next basket wins," the announcer declared into the microphone.

Nathan took possession of the ball, dribbling towards the basket. Then, in a flash, Dan slammed into his son, sending him crashing to the floor. I went, glancing at Mom out of the corner of my eye, and I could see the concern on her face for Nathan.

"Well, good news, folks. Nathan seems to be okay. And the Ravens' sons still have a crack at it... Lucas Scott hands the ball to Nathan." The announcer said. "He drives—ooh! He drops the ball. It's moving. That will create a turnover. The fathers have a crack at it. Looks like it's payback time."

The ball landed at Dan's feet. A silent exchange passed between him and Nathan before Dan sank the winning shot. My gaze landed on Nathan. His face was etched with a mixture of pain and defiance. He held his hands in defeat, then slowly walked off the court and out of the gym.

A heavy silence descended upon the crowd, broken only by the squeak of sneakers and the rustle of programs. Even the cheers for the winning fathers seemed muted.

"Your dad might be controlling," Mom whispered, her voice barely audible. "But he's not on Dan's level."

I glanced at Dad, chest heaving with exertion, basking in the meager applause. "Maybe," I conceded, my voice tight. "But right now, it feels pretty close."

...🏀...

"Hey, stranger,"

A wry smile played on my lips as I shook my head. "So you're talking to me now?"

"I'm sorry, Mylah."Lucas sighed, a hint of apology in his voice. "I don't trust Nathan, but if you say that, you—"

"I'm just tutoring him, Luke," I interjected, stopping him mid-sentence. "I promise."

"Okay." Lucas sighed.

"Hey, you got a second?" Peyton called.

I jutted my thumb behind me. "That's my cue to go."

I pulled my bag higher onto my shoulder when a voice called, "Mylah!"

I stopped, a small smile tugging at my lips as I saw Nathan jogging towards me. "Hi,"

"Coming to the game tonight?" he asked hopefully.

I shrugged, feigning indifference. "I don't know."

"You should come." Nathan pushed. "We always beat. the crap out of the Pickerington Hicks."

I cocked a brow. "Hicks?"

"It's what they should be called," Nathan said. "That place is all pickup trucks and mullets."

"Interesting," I said.

"It's definitely worth the road trip," Nathan said.

My gaze drifted to his, and I lost myself momentarily in the depths of his blue eyes. "You know our families hate each other, right?" I questioned, breaking the spell.

"Yeah," Nathan nodded. "But they're both not going to be there tonight."

He was right because the Small Business League, or SPL, was on the same night as the game. I remember Dad complaining to Mom about it since he could go and see Alex play.

I gave in. "Fine."

A triumphant grin spread across Nathan's face. "I'll look for you."

I rolled my eyes playfully as he swaggered away, unable to resist a final glance back at me before disappearing into the school.

This boy.

...🏀...

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, from the stinks of Pickerington where the pirates always suck, and the livestock is nervous, I'm Mouth McFadden, and sitting in with me at tonight's away game is Haley James and Mylah Evans. Haley, how do you see tonight's match-up?"

"I'd rather not be associated with your lunacy, Mouth." Haley voiced into the mic.

I laughed, shaking my head when a voice called, "Mylah."

I lift my head, watching Nathan with a slight smile on his face. "Good luck, Scott."

"Thanks," Nathan said before jogging back to the court.

"So, do you want to tell me what's going on between you and Nathan?" Haley asked.

I shook my head, looking at my best friend. "Nothing is going on with Nathan and me."

"Sure," Haley said with a smirk.

"Mya!"

I raised a brow at my brother jogging over to me. "Yes, Alex?"

"Why the hell are you talking to Nathan?" He fumed.

"Why do you care?" I countered. Alex clenched his hands by his side. "I'm just being nice, Alex."

Alex shook his head before returning to the court to finish his warmup before the game.

Deep in my gut, I felt that my brother wouldn't let this little interaction between Nathan and me go. I just hoped that he wouldn't take it too far.

𝟗-𝟐𝟗

"So, as usual, the Ravens have a big lead early in the second quarter," Mouth droned on.

I focused solely on Alex and Nathan in a mid-court heated exchange. It wasn't uncommon for them to clash—their competitive spirits were practically nuclear reactors fueled by testosterone.

But this was different.

This was hostile.

My stomach churned with a familiar dread. If this escalated, if Alex got ejected because of Nathan, Dad wouldn't be happy. Not at all. But his anger wouldn't be directed at Alex, his golden boy, his perfect athlete. No, his fury would land squarely on me, the inconvenient daughter who dared to have a life outside his meticulously planned world.

Suddenly, the simmering tension exploded. A rogue basketball, thrown with more frustration than aim, sailed through the air and smacked Nathan in the chest. His head snapped back, and before anyone could react, he lunged for Alex, a feral snarl twisting his features.

My breath hitched. This was bad. Really bad.

Chaos erupted. Alex retaliated, shoving Nathan back. Brooke, caught in the crossfire, tumbled to the ground with a yelp. The shrill blast of the whistle cut through the crowd's roar, but it did little to quell the fury in their eyes. The entire team, a tangled mass of limbs and shouts, finally separated the two.

A referee blows a whistle. "You two!" he points to Alex and Nathan. You're out of here!" He glances at Lucas. "Him too."

I gripped Haley's hand tightly within my own as my heart hammered frantically against my chest. I looked at Nathan and Alex, and they both glared at each other while their teammates escorted them out of the gym.

"Well, that escalated," Haley murmured.

I rubbed my forehead. "Great."

...🏀...

The sterile white walls of the nurse's office mocked my growing anxiety. Peyton tapped her foot impatiently beside me. "Seriously, Brooke's been in there forever."

The door creaked open as the words left her mouth, and a giggling mess emerged. Brooke, my ever-evolving friend, limped down the hall, supported (barely) by Peyton.

"Oh boy," Peyton muttered, scooping Brooke into a hug before she could topple over completely.

My gaze snagged on a worried-looking man hurrying towards us. "Hi," he greeted, concern etching lines on his face.

"This is one of my best friends in the whole wide world," Brooke declared in a suspiciously bright voice. "Don't you think she's pretty?"

I furrowed my brow, unsure how to respond to this sudden introduction. "Uh, hi?"

The man chuckled. "She found some... pills on the floor. The nurse said she'll be fine. Just needs to sleep it off."

Brooke wriggled free from Peyton's grasp and latched onto my arm. "Hey, ooh," she slurred, her voice thick. "Call me."

A resigned sigh escaped my lips. This was definitely different from the post-game hangout I'd envisioned. Glancing towards Haley, I raised an eyebrow in silent communication. With a shared look of exasperation, we half-dragged and half-carried Brooke out of the school and towards the parking lot.

"We should totally hang out more often," Brooke declared, suddenly swiveling her head towards where Haley stood beside her. "What is your name?"

"Haley," Haley replied cautiously.

"Yeah, I don't like that name," Brooke declared with the authority of a toddler rejecting vegetables. My lips twitched, threatening to betray my amusement. "Let's call you... Brooke."

Settling her into the passenger seat of her light blue car, I gently maneuvered her foot onto the dashboard. "Make sure you keep it elevated," I instructed, bracing myself for what promised to be a long car ride.

"Where's your ride?" Peyton asked, looking at Haley.

"I'm gonna take the last fan bus back," Haley answered, jutting her thumb behind her.

"They just left," Peyton informed her.

"That's perfect!" Brooke, ever the ray of sunshine, chirped from the backseat of her car. My lips twitched. "Brooke, you can come with us," she declared.

Peyton's brow furrowed, and I released a resigned sigh. "She named her Brooke," I explained, gesturing towards Haley.

"Peyton, can she come?" Brooke pleaded, her voice thick with the remnants of whatever concoction she took in the nurse's office.

"Just don't touch the stereo, or we'll have a problem," Peyton said before entering the driver's seat.

"Road trip!" Brooke declared, brandishing a pair of glittery pompoms. I batted them away playfully.

"Seriously, no more pills," I reminded her, a hint of steel in my voice.

My sanity hung by a thread. It had been an hour since we left the school, and Brooke was still on a high, fueled by who-knows-what. Every five minutes, a glittery pompom would appear in my peripheral vision, threatening to land in my lap or, worse, my hair. My tolerance for goofy Brooke was well and truly maxed out, and today, of all days, I wasn't exactly brimming with patience.

As predicted, another pompom materialized in front of my face. This time, I snapped. I snatched it from her grasp, the plastic digging uncomfortably into my palm. "That's it," I growled, my voice low and dangerous.

Brooke blinked, surprised by my sudden outburst. Ignoring her, I ripped the other pompom from her hand and tossed it out the window. It sailed through the air, a silent casualty of my mounting frustration, before disappearing onto the roadside.

"Oh, you're no fun," Brooke said. She leaned her head forward, peering between Haley and Peyton's seats. "Don't you two like the same guys...or guy or something?" she blurted out.

Haley scoffed. "He's definitely not my type."

"But he totally seems to be into Mylah," Peyton said from the driver's seat.

"He gave her a smile!" Brooke shrieked, launching herself towards the back window in a desperate attempt to play Peeping Tom. I grimaced, grabbing her shoulders and yanking her back into her seat.

"Just be careful," Peyton cautioned, her voice laced with concern. She looked at me through the rearview mirror.

The silence stretched on, punctuated only by the rhythmic hum of the engine. Haley finally broke the quiet tension.

"Well, what about you and Lucas?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of amusement.

Peyton let out a scoff. "What about us?"

I raised an eyebrow, silently urging Haley on.

"You like him," Haley said with a playful smile. "Come on. The tortured artist meets the tortured athlete—a classic case of opposites attracting, right?"

An alarm sound pinged on the dashboard, jolting me from my thoughts. "Great," I muttered, the groan evident in my voice.

"I hear birds," Brooke chimed in from the back seat, utterly oblivious to the tension brewing up front.

Peyton threw her hands up in exasperation. "Unbelievable, Brooke! Did you not think to put gas in the car?"

Brooke, unfazed, twisted in her seat, her gaze fixed on Haley. "Answer the question, Brooke." I shot a glare at my best friend as Peyton pulled the car over onto the side of the road. "Why are we stopping?" she wondered.

Without giving her an answer, I opened the car door and stepped out into the now-frigid evening air. "Pop the trunk," I instructed.

Brooke stared at me blankly as I popped the trunk, grabbing an empty gas canister from the back. "There was a gas station a few miles back," I explained, my voice strained. "If I'm not back in a reasonable amount of time, tell Alex he's still an idiot."

"A hot idiot," Brooke said, missing the mark completely.

I raised an eyebrow, a disgusted look crossing my face. "Ew, Brooke."

Peyton jumped out of the car. "I'll come with you," she said, grabbing the keys.

Brooke, finally registering the situation, stopped her giggling. "What about me?" she whined.

A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "You're staying with Brooke," I declared, gently pushing her back into her seat.

Peyton locked the car with a sigh, leaving Haley stranded with a clueless Brooke while we trekked towards a gas station in the cold night air.

Frustration gnawed at me as we pulled up to the gas station. The deserted pumps and the darkness from the convenience store confirmed my worst fears—it was closed. Peyton yanked on the door, the handle groaning in protest before staying firmly shut.

"Great, just great," she muttered, running a hand through her already frizzy hair.

"We'll figure something out," I said, sounding more confident than I felt. My gaze scanned the desolate landscape, landing on a pickup truck parked further down the road. Hope flickered in my chest.

Grabbing Peyton's arm, I urged her forward. "Come on," I whispered, pulling her towards the truck.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she stammered, her voice laced with apprehension. "What are you doing? Stealing gas?"

"Not exactly," I replied, handing her the empty gas canister. "Just borrowing a little bit."

Spotting a siphon hose hanging from the truck bed, my heart hammered with relief and trepidation. Reaching in, I grabbed the hose and turned towards Peyton. "Hold this for a second."

A glint of suspicion flickered in her eyes. "Or you'll stab me with that knife you just pulled from your boot?" she asked, eyeing the small blade I held defensively.

I shrugged, the weight of the past hanging heavy in the air. "It wouldn't be worth it," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper. "Open the gas cap."

Peyton's skepticism remained, but she followed my instructions. "Does this really work?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of nervous curiosity.

"Let's hope so," I muttered, crouching beside the car. With a deep breath, I pushed the hose through the gas cap and positioned the other end near my mouth.

"Have you had a lot of practice with this technique?" Peyton teased, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice.

I shot her a withering glare, my hand instinctively flying out and connecting with her leg. "Ow!" she yelped, rubbing the spot where I'd hit her. "At siphoning gas. What did you think I meant?"

The moment the comment left her lips, a wave of anxiety washed over me. The thought of gas instantly transported me back to that night, a horrifying scene I relived in excruciating detail every time it surfaced.

"Look out for the golf ball!" Peyton's sudden shout startled me back to the present.

Shaking the disturbing memories from my head, I focused on the task at hand. With a deep breath, I began to siphon the gas, the sound of liquid sloshing through the hose a welcome distraction.

A few minutes later, I signaled Peyton, and she capped the canister. As I removed my finger from the other end, stopping the gas flow, Peyton gave a low whistle.

"Are you kidding me?" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise. "Dude, who knew you were like the 4th Charlie's Angel?"

Relief washed over me as Peyton, and I finally reached Brooke's car.

The backseat offered a scene of peaceful slumber. Brooke sprawled across the entire space, completely knocked out. Haley sat in the passenger seat, fast asleep and resting against the window.

Gently, I nudged Brooke over to create some space for me while Peyton poured gas into the car. With a sigh of satisfaction, Peyton hopped back into the driver's seat and started the engine.

"We need some music," she announced, reaching for a CD in the back.

As I fumbled for my phone in the front seat, the car lurched violently, sending me flying. "Peyton!" I shrieked, grabbing onto the back of Haley's seat to steady myself.

"Sorry!" Peyton mumbled, regaining control of the wheel. "Didn't see that pothole."

A groan erupted from the back. "Where the hell are we?" Brooke mumbled, slowly coming to.

Haley, still half asleep, stretched languidly in the passenger seat. "Miles from normal," she sighed, finally opening her eyes.

"What is she doing here?" Brooke slurred, pointing a shaky finger at Haley.

I rolled my eyes and gently pushed Brooke back into her seat. "You invited her, honey," I reminded her.

Peyton popped in the CD, and the car was filled with upbeat music. Brooke, however, wasn't a fan. She winced and covered her ears, her face contorted in a comical expression. I couldn't help but laugh, the tension from the night finally easing.

Glancing out the window, I watched the landscape blur by, bathed in the moon's soft glow. Peyton and Haley sang along to the music, their voices blending in a carefree harmony.

Suddenly, Brooke's voice shattered the peaceful scene. "This is so tragic," she declared dramatically. "You two don't think you're gonna be friends tomorrow, do you?"

I sighed. Brooke, bless her heart, could be a drama queen sometimes. "Brooke, she's one of my best friends," I explained patiently. "Relax."

Another voice chimed in from the front seat. "Oh my gosh!" Haley gasped, her eyes glued to the road ahead.

My brow furrowed in confusion. "What's wrong?" I asked, peering past Haley's head.

Then I saw it.

The unmistakable figures of my brother, Nathan, and Lucas Scott, standing in front of Brooke's car, headlights blazing on them. Before I could react, Peyton slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt.

The next few moments were a blur. The Scott brothers and my brother piled into the car, their conversation hushed and urgent. And somehow, I ended up on Nathan's lap, my arm loosely wrapped around his shoulders. My fingers, almost on autopilot, found their way to his hair, playing with the familiar strands.

The silence in the car was heavy, thick enough to choke on. We bounced along the deserted dirt road, the headlights cutting through the inky blackness like accusing fingers.

Beside me, Brooke slumbered peacefully, oblivious to the drama unfolding around her. In the passenger seat, Haley occasionally glanced back at me with a mix of curiosity and concern but wisely kept her mouth shut.

My gaze darted nervously between the road ahead and the broad expanse of Nathan's shoulder beside me. His arm brushed against mine, sending a jolt through me.

The miles ticked by, each one stretching the silence between us even thinner. As the first rays of dawn began to paint the horizon with streaks of pink and orange, I knew this wasn't just another road trip back to Tree Hill. This was the beginning of something else I wasn't sure I was prepared for.

...🏀...

𝐀/𝐍: I'M BACK!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 112K READS.

It took me a while to figure out how to structure this chapter, which is longer than other chapters. I hope you enjoy it.

THANK YOU TO 910 FOLLOWERS.

Anyway, in this chapter, you kinda see the Evans family dynamics along with a few Nathan and Mylah's moments. 

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: What did you like about this chapter? How do you feel about Mylah's dad? How are you feeling about the rewrite so far?

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇

-𝑀𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛𝑎𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘