Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Pony’s POV

Everything was still spiraling from everything that happened with Bob, Windrixville, and the trial. Johnny was able to make a recovery that doctors didn’t see coming, but everything was still buzzing around town. I saw all the looks everyone shot at me. I didn’t want to be noticed. I wanted everything to go back to what it was like before this whole mess. Hell, even before Mom and Dad died.

I thought we were done with surprises. I just wanted to get back to life and back to normal things. But life never asks us what we want. It just keeps tossing curveballs, and Darry’s the one who has to stand at the plate and swing for all of us. I just didn’t know he was the one who was going to be throwing the curveball this time.

The whole gang was over for dinner like always. But something was off with Darry. He was fidgeting with his food, which wasn’t like him. Darry had made the family chili recipe.

Then Darry finally broke the news at the kitchen table, where most big things seem to happen in our house. Soda had his elbows propped on the chipped wood, grinning like always, but I could tell even he didn’t know what was coming.

“We’re moving,” Darry said, real calm, like he’d been rehearsing. “Tree Hill, North Carolina. I’ve got a construction job lined up. Good pay, steady hours. There’s a house we can rent, big enough for the three of us.”

For a second, I thought he was joking. Darry doesn’t joke much, but he has his moments. Only his eyes told me he wasn’t kidding. The silence rang in the house for a minute. Everyone was stunned. Even Soda.

“Tree Hill?” I repeated. “We don’t even know where that is.”

“Exactly,” Steve cut in with a laugh. “Sounds like one of those made-up places in a TV show.”

“Shut up, Steve,” Two-Bit said, though he was grinning. “So you’re really gonna haul Pony and Soda off? Leave us in Tulsa like a bunch of stray dogs?”

My brain started to spiral. I couldn’t leave Johnny and Dally. Especially after everything we’d been through. I just couldn’t fathom it.

Johnny shifted in his chair, real quiet, like he always does. His burns had healed up some, but he still wore his sleeves long.

“Maybe it ain’t the worst thing,” Johnny said, voice low. “Gettin’ outta here. Tryin’ fresh.”

Dally scoffed.

“Fresh doesn’t exist,” Dally grumbled. “You carry the old junk with you, wherever you go. It doesn’t matter if it’s Tulsa or North Carolina.”

The gang erupted then, everyone had something to say, everyone talking over each other. Soda tried to calm things down, telling them it wasn’t like Darry had much choice, that it was either pack us up or watch everything fall apart here. I sat there with my head spinning, trying to picture what Tree Hill even looked like. All I knew was it wasn’t Tulsa.

I started to hyperventilate.

Soda put a hand on my shoulder.

“Breathe, honey,” Soda said gently. “Just breathe. It’ll be ok.”

I wanted to believe him, but he couldn’t guarantee that. No one could. But I listened to him and eased my breathing back to a normal rhythm.

That night, I could hardly sleep. I didn’t want to move, but it didn’t look like I had a choice. Darry had made all the changes, so it was a done deal.

By the time the sun came up the next morning, I figured we’d be saying our goodbyes. Soda and I piled our bags in the back of Darry’s old pickup, the kind that rattled every time you touched the clutch. I caught Johnny on the curb, hands shoved deep in his pockets, and Dallas standing next to him with that cocky smirk that usually meant trouble. Steve and Two-Bit weren’t far behind, arguing about who got shotgun even though it was already clear Soda had claimed it.

“What’re you guys doin’ here?” Darry asked, eyeing the whole lot of them.

“Seein’ you off,” Two-Bit said innocently. “Real sentimental, you know?”

Steve lifted a bag from the ground and tossed it into the truck bed.

“Also, you think we’re lettin’ you run off to who-knows-where without us?” Steve said with a smirk. “Forget it.”

“Yeah,” Dally added, hopping onto the tailgate like he owned it. “You’ll need someone to stir things up in this Tree Hill dump. Might as well be us.”

Darry looked like he was about to explode. His jaw tightened, eyes blazing, but Soda clapped him on the back before he could say a word.

“C’mon, Dar,” Soda said. “You knew they’d never let us go alone. May as well make room.”

I laughed then, because somehow it made sense. We were the gang. Always had been. You couldn’t cut us apart, no matter how far the road stretched.

So that was it. Seven Tulsa boys crammed into one noisy pickup, barreling toward a place called Tree Hill. None of us knew what was waiting there, or that the house Darry rented sat right next to a lady named Karen Roe and her kid, Lucas. But maybe Johnny was right, maybe it wasn’t the worst thing to start fresh.

And maybe, just maybe, we weren’t outsiders anymore. Not if we had each other.

The truck rattled down I-40 like it was about to shake apart, but Soda swore she had another hundred thousand miles in her. He had his arm out the window, fingers tapping along to the beat of some pop-punk band crackling through the radio. Two-Bit had hijacked it at the first gas station and insisted we leave it tuned to “only the good stations.” Which apparently meant Green Day and whatever else he could find that had guitars loud enough to rattle my teeth.

The bench seat was already crowded with Soda driving, Darry riding shotgun, and me squished between them with my knees pulled up awkwardly. Steve, Johnny, Two-Bit, and Dally had staked out the truck bed, stretched out on blankets like we were heading to a drive-in instead of across three states. Every so often, someone would bang on the back window just to get Soda’s attention.

“So,” I said, eyeing the road signs that ticked down the miles, “how exactly did you guys swing this? One day, Darry says we’re leaving, and the next, you’re packed up, too. Tulsa wasn’t exactly handing out permission slips.”

Two-Bit’s voice floated through the sliding window.

“Easy,” Two-Bit said. “I told Ma I was movin’ in with my aunt for a while. She doesn’t know I ain’t got one in North Carolina.”

Steve leaned closer so his grin showed.

“My old man was too blitzed to notice when I grabbed my duffel,” Steve drawled. “I left him a note sayin’ ‘Gone fishin’, permanently.’ Bet he won’t even read it.”

Johnny’s voice was softer, but steadier than I’d ever heard it.

“I just… told my folks,” Johnny whispered. “Told ’em I was done. They didn’t try to stop me.” He looked out past the highway, hair blowing in the wind. “Guess they were glad.”

Dally snorted.

“And me?” Dally said. “Let’s just say I was between landlords. Nothin’ worth stayin’ for in Tulsa, anyway.”

I glanced at Darry, waiting for him to blow his stack, but he just kept his eyes on the road, hands steady on the wheel.

“You all realize this wasn’t supposed to be a joyride,” Dally said finally. “I had a plan for me, Soda, and Pony. A house lined up. A job. Now I’ve got six shadows trailing me.”

“Hey Pony,” Steve called through the window. “Bet you a Coke we hit the Atlantic before Darry cracks a smile.”

Darry didn’t even flinch, which only made Steve laugh harder.

The hours stretched long, broken up by pit stops at gas stations where we raided vending machines and argued over which chips were best. Two-Bit made it his mission to collect the weirdest souvenirs he could find. By the time we hit Tennessee, he had a plastic cowboy hat, a shot glass shaped like a boot, and a bobble-head hula girl riding shotgun in the back.

Somewhere outside Asheville, night settled in. The radio fizzled into static, and Soda finally gave up, letting the hum of the road fill the silence. Johnny leaned against the truck bed rail, head tipped back to the stars. Dally was smoking his third cigarette in as many hours, blowing smoke into the wind like he was trying to keep the night itself at arm’s length.

“Think this Tree Hill place is gonna be any different?” Johnny asked, so quiet I almost didn’t catch it.

Soda looked in the rearview, his grin softer now.
“Different’s what we’re countin’ on,” Soda said.

Me? I just kept my eyes on the horizon, where the highway disappeared into the dark. Tulsa was fading behind us, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like maybe the road ahead had something waiting. Something we hadn’t seen yet.

Tree Hill. Even the name sounded like a story.

By the time Darry pulled the truck up a quiet street lined with big oaks and tidy houses, the sun was just crawling up the sky. The air felt different than Tulsa, cleaner, softer, like it hadn’t been weighed down by everything we’d been carrying.

Darry slowed in front of a white two-story with green shutters and a wraparound porch. The paint was chipped in spots, but the yard was trimmed, and the place looked like it had been waiting for us.

“This is it,” Darry said, cutting the engine.

Soda whistled low.

“Man, Dar, you’ve been holdin’ out,” Soda said. “This beats the tar outta our old place.”

The rest of us piled out, stretching sore legs. Two-Bit was the first up the porch steps.

“Dibs on the biggest room!” Two-Bit shouted before Darry could get the key in the lock.

“Like hell you do,” Steve argued, hot on his heels.

“I’m callin’ one with a window,” Johnny added, quieter, slipping past them with a small smile.

Dally just smirked, cigarette already between his lips.

“As long as there’s a couch, I’m good,” Dally said with a smirk.

The inside smelled faintly of dust and lemon cleaner. Empty walls, scuffed floors, sunlight slanting through half-open blinds. It wasn’t much, but to us it looked like a kingdom.

I dropped my bag by the staircase and wandered to the front window. That’s when I saw her, our new neighbor. A woman with short dark hair is stepping out onto her porch, wiping her hands on a towel. Beside her stood a tall, sandy-haired guy about my age, basketball tucked under his arm. A girl followed them out, books hugged to her chest, smile easy like she’d been waiting to say hello.

Darry noticed them too. He straightened, then headed outside with Soda trailing him. The rest of us leaned against the railing or lounged on the porch as the introductions started.

“Hi there,” the woman said warmly. “I’m Karen Roe. Looks like you’re our new neighbors.”

“Darry Curtis,” Darry answered, shaking her hand firmly. “This here’s my brother Soda.”

“And Ponyboy,” Soda added, hooking a thumb at me. “Our kid brother. The rest are our… extended family.”

The boy with the basketball gave a little nod.

“Lucas Scott,” Lucas said with a small smile. “This is my best friend, Haley James.”

“Hi,” Haley chirped. “Welcome to Tree Hill. Moving’s rough, but you picked a good street.”

Soda grinned his easy grin, the one that always made people relax.

“Appreciate that,” Soda said. “Say, you folks know if there’s a garage or mechanic’s shop around here? Me and my buddy Steve, we’re good with cars.”

Karen’s eyes lit with recognition.

“Lucas’s Uncle Keith runs a shop not far from here,” Karen said. “He’s always looking for good help. I’ll point you in the right direction.”

“Perfect,” Steve said from the porch, leaning on the rail. “Guess Tree Hill might not be so bad after all.”

Two-Bit whistled, nudging Johnny and me.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s nice, but what about us?” Two-Bit said with a smirk. “You got a place that needs dishwashers, waiters, clowns?”
Karen laughed.

“Well, my café’s downtown,” Karen said. “Could always use some extra hands. You boys interested?”

Dally smirked, flicking his ash off the porch.

“Sounds like easy money to me,” Dally said.

Johnny’s eyes lit up in a way I hadn’t seen in a long time.

“I’d like that,” Johnny said. “Honest work.”

I nodded too. A café. A shop. A house with green shutters. A street where people waved instead of crossing to the other side. For the first time, it felt like we weren’t running from something. We were running toward it.

Lucas spun the ball in his hands and studied us with a kind of curiosity.

“Tree Hill’s small,” Lucas said. “Word gets around fast. You guys’ll fit in easily enough.”

I wasn’t sure about that. We’d always been the outsiders, no matter what town we landed in. But standing there in the soft Carolina morning with Karen Roe offering jobs and neighbors smiling, I wondered if maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time.

That night, everyone had settled into their rooms. I was with Soda like usual, Darry had his own room, Dally and Johnny bunked together, and so did Steve and Two-Bit. It was a full house. It wasn’t Tulsa, it never would be, but it was going to be home all the same.

By the next morning, the dust from moving in hadn’t even settled before Darry was pushing us out the door again. He’d shaved, buttoned a clean shirt, and carried himself like a man with a plan. I could tell he wanted to make the right impression here in Tree Hill, to plant us solid before anyone got the wrong idea.

We piled into the truck, me, Soda, Johnny, Dally, Steve, and Two-Bit, still sore from carrying boxes but buzzing with the nervous energy that came with something new. The high school wasn’t far, just a brick building with a wide set of steps and banners flapping about the Ravens basketball team.

Inside, it smelled like waxed floors and pencil shavings, not too different from Tulsa schools, only brighter somehow. Darry marched us to the main office like he’d rehearsed the route. A secretary with glasses perched on the end of her nose looked up, pen pausing mid-scratch.

“Can I help you?” she asked, eyes flicking from Darry to the six of us trailing behind.

“Yes, ma’am,” Darry said politely. “We just moved here. I need to enroll my brothers and… friends.”
The woman blinked.

“All of them?” The woman asked, startled.

“That’s right,” Darry said sheepishly.

Two-Bit leaned on the counter, flashing a grin.

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Two-Bit said. “We travel in packs.”

Soda elbowed him, but the secretary was already shuffling papers.

“Names and ages, please,” the secretary said.

Darry went down the line like a drill sergeant: “Ponyboy Curtis, fourteen. Johnny Cade, sixteen. Sodapop Curtis, sixteen. Dallas Winston, seventeen. Steve Randle, seventeen. Keith Mathews, goes by Two-Bit, eighteen.”

Two-Bit gave her a little salute at his name, which earned him a sharp look from Darry.

The secretary scribbled quickly, then handed us each a packet of forms.

“You’ll all be placed at Tree Hill High,” The secretary said. “Classes start tomorrow. Schedules will be ready by the end of the day. Mr. Curtis, you’ll need to sign as their guardian.”

Darry nodded, taking the pen. He signed his name neatly and steadily, like he was determined to prove something.

While he filled out the paperwork, Soda leaned close to Steve, whispering,

“Man, can you imagine us walkin’ these halls tomorrow?” Soda whispered. “Bet we stick out like sore thumbs.”

Steve smirked.

“Yeah, but we’ll be the best-lookin’ sore thumbs they’ve ever seen,” Steve said.

Johnny fidgeted with his sleeve, glancing around the office.

“I don’t know, guys,” Johnny said. “I barely kept up in Tulsa. What if it’s worse here?”

“You’ll be fine, Johnnycake,” Dally muttered, voice low but steady. “Nobody’s gonna give you trouble as long as I’m around.”

The secretary looked up again, clearly overwhelmed by the sudden flood of Tulsa boys invading her tidy desk.

“Welcome to Tree Hill,” The Secretary said finally, as if testing how it sounded.

And just like that, it was official. We weren’t just the Greasers anymore; we were the new kids at Tree Hill High.

As we filed out, I caught sight of a trophy case gleaming with golden basketball players frozen mid-jump. Nathan Scott’s face stared out from one of the team photos, and I realized this was his turf.

Maybe ours now, too.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Soda’s POV

I always figured new schools smelled the same: wax on the floors, sharp pencils, too much perfume from the girls who wanted to be noticed. Tree Hill High wasn’t much different, except the banners screaming about the Ravens basketball team and how the whole town seemed to live for it.

We walked in like some kind of circus, me, Pony, Johnny, Dally, Steve, and Two-Bit. Six Tulsa boys, worn leather and boots, like we’d stepped out of the wrong decade. Heads turned. Whispers followed.
Pony looked like he wanted to melt through the floor. I nudged him with my elbow.

“Relax, kid,” I said with a grin. “The worst they can do is laugh.”

He muttered, “Easy for you to say,” and ducked behind his hair.

Lucas Scott and Haley James were waiting near the lockers. Haley grinned, waving us over.

“Hey, you made it!” Haley said. “First day nerves?”

“Not me,” I said, flashing a smile. “I’m the picture of calm.”

Lucas gave me this quiet look, like he could see right through the act.

“Stick together in here,” Lucas said. “Tree Hill gets… messy.”

Before I could ask what he meant, a convertible horn blared outside. Here came trouble: Nathan Scott leaning on his shiny car, Peyton Sawyer slipping out with her headphones, and Brooke Davis trailing after with a grin that said she was born for attention.

Nathan spotted us right away.

“Well, look at this. Tree Hill imported a biker gang,” Nathan sneered. “What’s wrong, Tulsa run outta gas stations to loiter at?”

Two-Bit clutched his chest, playing it up.

“Nathan Scott, ladies and gentlemen, Tree Hill’s resident comedian!” Two-Bit mocked. He gave a mock bow.

A couple of kids laughed. Nathan didn’t. Peyton rolled her eyes. Brooke giggled behind her hand. Haley muttered something about ignoring him and tugged Lucas down the hall.

I caught Pony’s wide eyes, Johnny’s tense shoulders, and Dally’s smirk that said he was two seconds from swinging. I stepped in quickly.

“C’mon, guys,” I said, flashing a smile. “Let’s not start our first day with detention, huh?”

Classes blurred after that: math that made Pony scowl, shop class where Steve looked like he’d found his second home, gym where I ran circles around half the Ravens’ starters just for fun.
By the end of the day, I was beat, but no, we weren’t done. Darry had us all lined up for work. Steve and I headed to Keith’s shop, while the others went to Karen’s Café.

Keith Scott looked at us with grease under his nails and suspicion in his eyes.

“You two know your way around an engine?” Keith asked us.

Steve cracked his knuckles.

“Born and raised in one,” Steve said with a grin.

I grinned.

“Give us a wrench and a busted carburetor, and we’ll prove it,” I said.

Keith’s mouth twitched like he didn’t want to smile, but did anyway.

“Fine. Clock in tomorrow,” Keith said. “Let’s see if you’re as good as you think.”

Meanwhile, across town, the bell at Karen’s Café jingled. When we stopped by later, I found Pony balancing plates like he’d been waiting tables for years, Johnny grinning shy and proud with a tray in his hands, Two-Bit covered in suds back by the sink, and Dally working the register with the kind of grin that scared customers into tipping.

Lucas and Haley were in a booth, books spread out, laughing at something Pony said. Karen caught my eye and smiled like she knew we were all in the right place.

Tulsa was already a memory. Tree Hill was our shot at something new. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, we belonged.

Steve and I hung around for a while, working on homework, when Lucas pulled out a ball.

“You guys ever play ball?” Lucas asked, tossing a beat-up basketball from hand to hand.

Steve nudged me with his elbow.

“Depends,” Steve said. “You mean football or basketball?”

“Basketball,” Lucas said, rolling his eyes like that was the only sport that mattered in this town. “We hang out at the River Court after school. You should come by.”

Pony’s eyes lit up; he liked meeting new people more than the rest of us, even if he wouldn’t always admit it. Darry wasn’t around to remind us to keep our heads down, so I shrugged.

“Sure,” I said. “Why not? Not like we’ve got much else to do after work.”

“River Court?” Two-Bit repeated, grinning. “Sounds like somethin’ outta Shakespeare.”

Lucas just laughed.

“You’ll see,” Lucas said.

The River Court sat right along the Cape Fear River, the kind of place that felt alive even when it was empty. A couple of hoops, chain nets clinking in the breeze, and some worn-out chalk lines on the pavement. It wasn’t polished like the gyms we passed at school; it had grit, and I liked that.

A few kids were already there. Lucas introduced them like family:

“That’s Skills,” Lucas said, pointing to a tall guy with a quick smile who gave us a nod.

“Fergie and Junk,” he continued, gesturing toward two guys arguing over who called the last foul.

“And Mouth,” Lucas said last, a kid with shaggy hair and an oversized sweatshirt who looked like he could talk the paint off a wall.

Mouth grinned widely at us. “New faces, huh? About time Lucas brought fresh competition. You guys play?”
Dally cracked a smirk. “

We play enough to kick your ass,” Dally said.

I could tell Lucas wasn’t sure whether Dally was joking. The thing about Dallas Winston was, you never really knew.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Skills said, spinning the ball on his finger.

We split into teams. Lucas wanted Pony on his side right away. I ended up with Skills and Junk, and Dally somehow finagled his way into guarding Lucas, which looked like trouble waiting to happen.

The game was fast, but it didn’t take long for everyone to see Pony had some moves. He wasn’t the strongest guy out there, but he was quick, weaving through like he’d been playing on blacktop courts his whole life. Lucas looked proud, like he’d found a new little brother on the spot.

Two-Bit, meanwhile, was more interested in cracking jokes than actually scoring. Every time he missed a shot, he’d bow like he meant to do it.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you should never trust a man with a buzz cut and a bad sense of direction,” Two-Bit said.

The River Court gang roared with laughter. Even Dally cracked a grin, though he still played like he had something to prove.

By the time the sun started dipping low, we were sweaty, sore, and laughing harder than we had in weeks.

“You guys fit in good here,” Skills said, clapping me on the back. “Tree Hill ain’t ever had a crew like yours.”

Pony shot me a look, his cheeks flushed but his smile wide. For the first time since Tulsa, I saw a spark in his eyes that wasn’t weighed down with loss.

Maybe Darry was right about moving here.

After the game, Karen showed up at the court with a bag of burgers from the Café for Lucas and his friends. She spotted us and smiled like she’d already expected we’d be there.

“You boys settling in okay?” Karen asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered, brushing sweat from my forehead. “Thanks again for the jobs.”

She gave us that warm, motherly look, the kind we hadn’t seen much of since Mom died.

“You’re welcome,” Karen said. “Tree Hill’s small. Folks look out for each other.”

Standing there with Pony, Johnny, Dally, and the others, all of us catching our breath under the orange sky, I realized maybe this town wasn’t gonna be so bad after all.

The next morning, the whole house was buzzing before the sun even came up. Pony was up with Johnny, talking about the books they’d seen in the school library yesterday. Two-Bit was already making a mess in the kitchen with cereal, and Darry was barking orders like a drill sergeant about us being on time.

I grabbed my jacket and leaned against the doorframe, watching Pony wrestle with his backpack.

“Relax, little buddy,” I said. “First full week. You’ll live.”

He gave me that look, half nerves, half attitude. I ruffled his hair, just to bug him.

By the time we all piled into Darry’s truck, Dally was complaining about the early hour, Steve was yawning, and Johnny just sat quietly, staring out the window. Tulsa felt a million miles away already.
Inside Tree Hill High, things felt… different. Maybe it was the Carolina air, maybe it was just that this school was a lot bigger than what we were used to.

Lucas Scott was at his locker when we came in. He gave us a nod like we belonged there already. That kid had an easy kind of confidence, the kind that wasn’t loud or pushy, just steady.

Haley James joined him, carrying books in her arms.

“Morning, new guys,” Haley chirped.

“Morning,” I said, trying to keep it cool even though half the hallway was staring at us like we’d walked off the set of a crime show.

Then Nathan Scott strutted past, basketball under his arm, his crew trailing behind him. He shot Lucas a glare sharp enough to cut steel. I didn’t know the whole story yet, but you didn’t need to be a genius to feel the tension. Pony shifted beside me like he could feel it too.

Nathan glared at us, too, especially after the incident yesterday.

Dally smirked.

“Friendly bunch, huh?” Dally grumbled.

Lucas just shook his head, like he was used to it. Peyton Sawyer walked by, headphones in, sketchbook tucked under her arm. She barely looked at anybody, though her eyes flicked at Nathan for half a second. Brooke Davis trailed behind her, loud and laughing with a couple of friends.

Tree Hill was buzzing with drama already, and we’d only been here a day.

After school, we made our way to Karen’s Café for our first shifts. Pony, Johnny, Two-Bit, and Dally were supposed to shadow Karen and Haley to learn the ropes.

I leaned against the counter while Karen showed Pony how to work the coffee machine. He was listening closely, eyebrows furrowed like this was some kind of science project. Two-Bit, on the other hand, was already trying to sneak cookies from the display case until Karen swatted his hand.

“This ain’t so bad,” Johnny said softly, smiling just a little. “Feels… normal.”

That’s when Lucas came in, spinning a basketball in his hand. He ordered a coffee and leaned on the counter like this was his second home.

“Hey,” Lucas said. “You guys feel like shooting some hoops tonight?”

Dally raised an eyebrow.

“What, you need extra bodies for a game?” Dally sighed.

Lucas just smiled.

“Something like that,” Lucas said. “River Court. After dinner.”

I nudged Pony, who was practically glowing at the idea. The kid loved anything that felt like being part of something.
The River Court was lit by the fading sun when we got there. A few of Lucas’s friends were already hanging around: Mouth McFadden calling play-by-plays even when nobody was playing yet, Skills and Fergie tossing the ball back and forth.

Pony looked like he’d stepped into a movie scene, wide-eyed and quiet, soaking it all in. Johnny stuck close to him, but even he was smiling at the easy rhythm of it all.

I jumped into a quick game with Lucas and the River Court crew, while Steve started showing off his own moves. Two-Bit cracked jokes from the sideline, making Mouth laugh so hard he almost dropped his notebook. Even Dally looked like he was having a decent time, though he pretended not to.

For the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like we were outsiders. It felt like maybe, just maybe, we belonged here.
The next day, the real show started.

We were at Karen’s Café, grabbing breakfast before school, when Nathan’s black SUV pulled up outside. He walked in like he owned the place, his basketball team following behind him like shadows.
Lucas was already at a table, sipping coffee, reading. Nathan stopped, smirked, and said loud enough for everyone to hear.

“One Tree Hill’s big enough for one Scott, don’t you think?” Nathan sneeered.

The café went quiet. Even Pony leaned forward in his seat, like he could feel the weight of the words.

Lucas didn’t look up right away. When he did, his eyes were calm, steady.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Lucas said.

Haley glanced between them nervously. Karen froze behind the counter. And the gang? We were just sitting there, watching the start of something big.

I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed. Tulsa might’ve been rough, but Tree Hill? Tree Hill had its own kind of fight waiting.

And we were right in the middle of it.

The air was different at night in Tree Hill, cooler, thicker, carrying the faint smell of the river. Back in Tulsa, nights usually meant leaning against cars outside the DX or hanging on the Curtis porch. Here, it felt like something else entirely. Like the whole town was holding its breath.

We were walking back from the café, stomachs full of leftover pie Karen had insisted we take home, when we heard it: shouts, laughter, a low rumble of music carried on the wind. Lucas had told us about the team, how Nathan Scott and his crew thought they owned this town, and by the sounds of it, we were about to see exactly what he meant.

The squeal of tires cut through the dark, followed by the sight of a bright yellow school bus, barreling down the street, packed with rowdy voices. Soda slowed up, squinting, and then I realized.

“Are those basketball players hangin’ out the windows?” Two-Bit barked a laugh. “Man, Tree Hill’s got its own circus act.”

Sure enough, the bus swerved, headlights bouncing across the pavement. Nathan Scott himself was behind the wheel, smirking like the whole world existed to cheer him on. A couple of his teammates dangled beer cans out the windows, hollering at anyone within earshot.

“Crazy punks are gonna wreck it,” Dally muttered, shoving his hands deeper into his jacket. “Even Tim Shepard ain’t that stupid.”

Johnny shifted closer to me, uneasy. I could tell he was remembering Tulsa nights, stolen cars, cops chasing us down alleys. But this wasn’t home. These were clean-cut kids, the town’s so-called golden boys, doing whatever they pleased because they knew no one would stop ’em.

The bus screeched around the corner, nearly tipping. We caught a glimpse of Lucas on the sidewalk, arms crossed, watching his half-brother make a fool of himself. He didn’t move. Didn’t say anything. Just stared with that kind of quiet, bitter look I’d seen Darry wear when people underestimated him. Then he started walking down the street again, bouncing a basketball. That’s when we heard a car in the distance. Little did we know that it was Payton Sawyer’s.

I jogged a little to catch up with Pony, who hadn’t taken his eyes off Lucas. He always noticed stuff like that, moments you might miss if you weren’t paying attention.

“You seein’ this?” Pony whispered, like it was something important.

“Yeah,” I said. “Looks like Tree Hill’s got its own brand of trouble.”

The bus roared past again, music blaring, kids leaning out the windows. Somebody yelled something crude out the window as they headed towards a train track. I just rolled my eyes.
Two-Bit shook his head.

“Tell me again how this ain’t Tulsa?” Two-Bit asked.

Darry, who’d been silent most of the walk, finally spoke. His voice was low, firm, the kind of tone that cut through any racket.

“It’s not Tulsa,” Darry said. “And we’re not gettin’ dragged into any of this.”

We all shut up at that, but my eyes lingered on the area that Lucas had left as a car passed, while I caught a glimpse of Payton Sawyer’s blonde curly hair.

And standing there, I couldn’t help but wonder if us showing up in Tree Hill had landed us right in the middle of something bigger than we thought.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Darry’s POV

The next morning….

Tree Hill wasn’t Tulsa, but it didn’t take long for me to figure out one thing: news traveled fast here. By the time I showed up at the construction site that morning, everybody already knew about the basketball team stealing the school bus after the game.

The foreman, a big guy named Hank, was shaking his head as I clocked in.

“Whole damn team’s suspended,” Hank muttered to another worker. “All except Nathan Scott, Tim Smith, and Jake Jagielski. Coach Durham just walked away like it was another day, but Dan Scott had a cow about it.”

I kept my head down, grabbing my hard hat, but I was listening. The Scotts were the name everybody dropped in this town, and it was clear Nathan could get away with just about anything. But it seemed they didn’t think twice about Lucas.

Over lunch, sitting on the tailgate with a couple of the guys, the talk hadn’t died down.

“Dan Scott’s boy ain’t never gonna see consequences,” one of the older men said, stabbing at his sandwich like it had offended him. “Star player, son of the town hero, rules don’t apply.”
Another laughed.

“Hell, if my kid pulled that stunt, he’d be locked up,” One said. “But Nathan? They’ll still roll out the red carpet come game night.”

I didn’t add much. Just kept chewing and thinking about Pony, Soda, Johnny, and the rest walking the halls of that high school while this storm brewed. They were outsiders already; they didn’t need to be pulled into the Scotts’ mess. But I had a feeling we all would. Especially since we worked with the family and lived next door to one of the kids.

After work, I stopped by Karen’s Café. She was wiping down the counter, the place quiet before the after-school rush.

“You hear about the suspensions?” Karen asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Hard not to,” I said. “Seems like the whole town’s talking.”

Karen sighed.

“Lucas is pretending he doesn’t care, but I know better,” Karen said. “Half the team’s out, Nathan’s untouchable, and Dan’s just… Dan. It’s going to be ugly.”
I leaned an elbow on the counter.

“My brothers don’t need ugly,” I said. “They’ve had enough of that back home.”

Karen gave me a sympathetic look.

“You can’t shield them from everything, Darry,” Karen said gently. “But Tree Hill’s not Tulsa. They’ve got a chance here.”

I wanted to believe her. I really did. But when Soda and Steve came in from Keith’s shop, grease on their hands, grinning like they belonged there, and Pony, Johnny, Two-Bit, and Dally tumbled in behind them, still buzzing from school, I saw it in their faces. They were already tangled up in this town’s stories, whether I liked it or not.

“Bus stunts’ all anyone’s talkin’ about,” Two-Bit announced as he slid into a booth. “Kids are sayin’ Nathan’s untouchable, and Lucas oughta be the one out there playin’ for the Ravens.”

Pony nodded, eyes bright.

“He’s good enough,” Pony said. “I’ve seen him play at the River Court. Better than Nathan, even.”

“Don’t get mixed up in it,” I said firmly, cutting them off before the talk could spread. “Tree Hill’s problems aren’t ours. We came here to start fresh. Remember that.”

They quieted down some, but I caught Soda exchanging a look with Pony. They’d heard me, but whether they’d listen was another matter.

As I sat there with my coffee, I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d brought us all into another fight, just a different battlefield. Only this time, it wasn’t Socs and Greasers. It was Scotts and Ravens, and the whole damn town was choosing sides.

And I had a sinking feeling my family was about to be dragged right into the middle of it. I couldn’t even get it out of my head while I tried to sleep that night. At least everyone was under one roof.

The next day….

After work, I figured I’d head home and check on the boys, but when I pulled up to the house, it was quiet. Too quiet. I didn’t need to guess where they were.

Sure enough, I found them at the River Court, lights from the lampposts throwing long shadows across the pavement. Pony, Johnny, Steve, Two-Bit, and Dally were tangled up in a scrappy game with Lucas and his friends, Skills, Fergie, Junk, and Mouth hollering play-by-plays from the sidelines. Soda sat on the bench, laughing and egging them on.

I leaned against the fence, arms folded. It was good seeing them run, laugh, and forget themselves for a while. Pony was darting through like a streak of lightning, grinning bigger than I’d seen since Mom and Dad were alive. Johnny looked lighter, too, passing the ball off clean, his hair flying when he moved. Even Dally, cocky as ever, looked like he belonged.

That’s when the familiar rumble of music rolled up from the road. A black Comet slowed near the court, bass thudding, headlights cutting across the asphalt. Peyton Sawyer’s car. Same one we’d seen the night of the bus stunt.

She didn’t stop, just glanced our way as her curls caught the light, then kept driving, music spilling out behind her like a trail.

Two-Bit gave a low whistle.

“Tree Hill girls sure know how to make an entrance,” Two-Bit said with a smirk.

Lucas just shook his head, tugging the ball under his arm.

“Yeah, well, that girl almost ran me over last night,” Lucas said.

That got the gang’s attention. Steve raised an eyebrow.

“No kiddin’?” Steve said.

“Dead serious,” Lucas said. “She drives like she’s got something to prove.”

“Or something to hide,” Dally muttered, flicking his lighter open and shut.

“Or just likes attention,” Two-Bit added with a grin. “I mean, a car like that with the music blarin’? C’mon. That’s a show.”

Skills laughed, tossing the ball back to Lucas.

“Better watch yourself, man,” Skills said. “Peyton Sawyer doesn’t exactly let people in.”

Mouth chimed in, grinning.

“Unless you count her webcam,” Mouth said.

“Her what?” Pony asked, brows furrowed.

Lucas gave him a look.

“She’s got a live webcam in her room,” Mouth explained. “Art project, I guess. Half the school’s tuned in.”

“That’s… weird,” Johnny shifted uneasily, muttering.

“Creepy’s the word,” I said, stepping forward. They all turned when they realized I’d been standing there. “Girls oughta have more respect for themselves than that.”

Lucas shrugged, but his eyes were tight.

“That’s Peyton,” Lucas said.

The game fizzled after that, everyone catching their breath and talking in little clusters. I figured it was time to call it a night when Karen showed up, her smile warm as always.

“You boys hungry?” Karen asked, holding the café keys in her hand. “I was about to close up, but I’ve got dinner on. Why don’t you come by and eat with me, Lucas, and Haley?”

Before I could even answer, Two-Bit’s hand shot up.

“Did somebody say food?” Two-Bit asked, eyes sparkingly.

The gang laughed, and Pony lit up in a way I couldn’t ignore. He needed moments like this, normal, safe, almost family-like.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, nodding. “We’d appreciate it.”

So we trailed after Karen, the whole lot of us, back toward the café. As I watched my brothers laughing with Lucas and Haley, for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, this move to Tree Hill had been the right call.

Even if the Scotts’ drama was waiting just around the corner.

Karen’s Café was quiet when we walked in, the lights dimmed low, and the smell of coffee and fried food still hung in the air. Lucas locked the door behind us, flipped the sign to Closed, and Karen waved us toward the big corner booth.

“Sit. I’ll bring the food,” Karen said with that motherly firmness that didn’t leave room for arguing.

We crammed in like sardines, Soda, Pony, Johnny, Steve, Two-Bit, and Dally squeezed around the table with Lucas and Haley, while I took the end seat. Soda was already cracking jokes about how the fries smelled better than anything he’d ever cooked, and Two-Bit was angling for extra dessert before Karen even brought out the plates.

Karen set down a spread that looked too good to be café leftovers: burgers, fries, some pasta, and a plate of biscuits that smelled homemade.

“Eat up, boys,” Karen said, eyeing Pony in particular. “Growing kids need fuel.”

“Thanks, ma’am,” Pony said, polite but shy, before digging in.

The noise around the table was the good kind: laughter, clinking glasses, and the scrape of plates. Johnny looked more comfortable than I’d seen him in months, leaning in when Haley asked him about Oklahoma. Steve and Soda kept talking shop with Lucas, comparing Keith’s garage to the DX back home.

Two-Bit was in rare form, telling some ridiculous story about Elvis the mutt stealing a hot dog from a vendor in Tennessee on the drive up. Karen laughed so hard she nearly dropped her fork. Even Dally, usually too tough for this sort of thing, smirked through half the meal, tossing in sharp one-liners when Two-Bit went off the rails.

But underneath the noise, I caught the way Lucas stayed quieter, chewing slower, his eyes flicking to Haley when the talk veered toward Nathan.

“So,” Steve said around a mouthful of fries, “what’s the deal with this Nathan guy anyway? Seems like half the town’s wrapped around his finger.”

Lucas tensed, and Haley shot Steve a look like she wanted him to shut up. But Lucas just shrugged.

“He’s… my half-brother,” Lucas muttered darkly. “Star of the Ravens. Dad’s favorite. He gets away with everything.”

Two-Bit whistled.

“Ah, so he’s the Soc around here,” Two-Bit said.

Pony frowned.

“He’s worse than that,” Pony said nervously. “He’s like a Bob Sheldon with a basketball.”

Lucas gave a small smile at that, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

Karen came back over then, setting down a plate of pie to cut the tension.

“That’s enough talk about Nathan Scott at my table,” Karen said, voice firm. “Eat your dessert and leave the drama outside.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Soda said quickly, already sliding a slice toward Pony.

The mood lightened again, jokes, laughter, talk of music and movies. Haley teased Soda about not knowing who Coldplay was, and Two-Bit nearly choked when Pony admitted he hadn’t seen “The Matrix”. Johnny smiled quietly at it all, like he couldn’t believe we were sitting at a real family table again.

By the time we finished, everyone was leaning back full and sleepy. Karen brought out to-go cups of coffee for me and Soda, hot chocolate for Pony and Johnny, and even handed Dally a second slice of pie with a pointed look that dared him to argue. He didn’t.

Walking out into the night afterward, I caught myself smiling. For the first time since Tulsa, my brothers had a roof, jobs, and people who cared if they were hungry.

But as we stepped out into the cool air, I also caught Lucas’s face when the talk of Nathan had slipped through. He carried the weight of that family name heavily on his shoulders.

And I knew, sooner or later, that weight was going to crash into ours.

The next night…

The night air in Tree Hill had a bite to it, the kind that settled in your lungs and made you feel awake no matter how tired you were. I’d finished a long shift at the construction site, figured I’d head home, but the sound of bouncing basketballs and laughter pulled me down toward the river.

Sure enough, there they were. Pony, Johnny, Two-Bit, Steve, and Dally mixed right in with Lucas and his River Court crew, running plays under the glow of streetlamps. The chain nets clinked with every shot, sneakers scuffing against worn pavement, voices echoing across the water. Soda was on the sidelines, cheering like he’d been born in Tree Hill.

I leaned against the fence, watching. They looked like they belonged there. Not Greasers, not kids running from Tulsa. Just boys, playing ball under the stars.

Then I caught sight of headlights pulling up. A truck eased to the curb, and two men got out. One was Keith Scott, I’d seen him around town already, and knew he owned the garage where Soda and Steve had started working. The other was older, a little hunched, with a weathered face and sharp eyes. I’d heard the name whispered more than once: Coach Whitey Durham.

Keith crossed his arms, watching with quiet pride. Whitey stood beside him, squinting through the dark, his focus locked on Lucas.

Lucas was playing like a man with something to prove. He wasn’t showboating; he didn’t have to. Every shot was clean, every pass sharp. He carried himself like he belonged out there, not on the sidelines of the Ravens’ gym.

“Kid’s got it,” Whitey said, his voice gravelly but sure.

Keith gave a little smile.

“He always has,” Keith said whistfully.

I stayed quiet in the shadows, but I was listening.

Whitey kept watching, nodding slowly as Lucas drove to the basket, finishing with a smooth layup.

“Dan’s boy might be the star, but this one’s the real deal,” Whitey said. “He’s got the fire. He’s hungry.”

Keith chuckled.

“Don’t let Lucas hear you say that,” Keith said. “He’s too modest for his own good.”

But I could see it. The way Lucas moved, the way his friends rallied around him, it was clear. He had something Nathan didn’t. Guts. Heart.

Beside him, Pony was running hard, keeping up like he’d been playing with these boys his whole life. Johnny stuck close, grinning when he managed a clean shot. Even Dally, cocky as ever, was working for the ball like it mattered.

For the first time since we’d come to Tree Hill, I felt something I hadn’t in a long while, hope.

Maybe these kids weren’t just finding a place to pass the time. Maybe they were finding something bigger.

Keith and Whitey stayed a while longer, then turned back toward the truck, their voices carrying low.

“You’re thinking of pulling him up, aren’t you?” Keith asked.

Whitey didn’t answer right away. He just glanced back at the court, at Lucas cutting through defenders like the game was his.

“Tree Hill’s about to see something it’s not ready for,” Whitey said finally.

They drove off, taillights disappearing into the night.

I stayed a moment longer, watching my brothers laugh and shout with Lucas and his crew. The ball bounced, the nets rattled, and the sound of joy and fight filled the air.

And deep down, I knew. Whatever Whitey Durham was planning, whatever the Scotts had brewing, our lives were already tangled up in it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Two-Bit’s POV

Next day….

Tree Hill High’s library was about the last place you’d expect to find me, but somehow Pony had roped us all in. Said something about needing a quiet place to work on essays. I was just along for the ride. Soda came too, mostly ‘cause he wanted to keep an eye on Pony, and Johnny tagged along because, well, Johnny always did. Even Dally was here, though he looked like he’d rather swallow glass.

We’d just settled in around a table when I spotted them. Nathan Scott and his shadow, Tim Smith, were lounging at the back like they owned the place. Nathan had that smug smirk, Tim was laughing at every dumb joke, and the whole room might as well’ve been theirs.

“Great,” I muttered. “Royalty’s in the building.”

Pony gave me a look over the top of his book.

“Don’t start,” Pony warned.

“I ain’t startin’,” I said, grinning. “Just stating facts.”

Johnny ducked his head, trying not to smile, and Soda elbowed me to keep quiet.

That’s when the doors creaked open and in walked Coach Whitey Durham. You didn’t need to know who he was to figure he ran the place; the man carried himself like he’d seen it all and didn’t have time for any nonsense. He scanned the room, sharp eyes settling right on Lucas.

“Scott,” Whitey said. His voice cut through the whole library, and even Nathan sat up a little straighter at first. Then Whitey added, “Not you. The other one.”

The look on Nathan’s face was priceless. Like somebody just told him he wasn’t the center of the universe. I nearly laughed out loud, but Soda kicked me under the table.

Lucas blinked, caught off guard, and slowly closed the book he’d been reading. Whitey jerked his head toward the door.

“Come with me,” Whitey grumbled.

The whole library watched Lucas get up. Nathan leaned back in his chair, trying to play it cool, but I could see the fire in his eyes. Tim whispered something, and they both snickered, but it didn’t change the fact that Whitey wasn’t looking at them.

“Where’s he takin’ him?” Johnny asked quietly.

“Pretty sure that’s the part where the old coach discovers he’s found his golden ticket,” I said.

“Golden ticket?” Pony whispered.

“C’mon, Pony, don’t you see it?” I asked. “Lucas plays at the River Court like he’s got nothin’ to lose. Whitey’s been watchin’. He ain’t here to check out books.”

We couldn’t exactly follow, but curiosity had me twitchin’ in my seat. Sure enough, ten minutes later, word drifted back, Lucas had been seen walking into the gym with Whitey.

Nathan and Tim stormed out of the library not long after, muttering under their breath. Nathan’s jaw was set so tight you could practically hear his teeth grindin’.

“Bet ya he’s gonna choke on his own ego,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Ain’t used to sharin’ the spotlight.”

Soda smirked.

“Kinda reminds me of Tulsa,” Soda said. “Different field, same game.”

“Yeah,” I said, watching Pony’s eyes follow after Lucas like he already knew where all this was headed. “Only thing is, this game’s just gettin’ started. I don’t want to just sit here, though. Let’s go follow to get the tea.”

Johnny frowned, nervous already.

“We can’t just follow…” Johnny said nervously.

But Pony was already stuffing his notebook in his bag.

“C’mon,” Pony whispered.

So that’s how the whole gang ended up sneakin’ down the hall like we were casing a joint. Dally hung back, rolling his eyes, but he didn’t leave. None of us did.

We found the gym doors cracked open, the squeak of sneakers, and the echo of Whitey’s voice bouncing off the walls.

Lucas stood center court, ball in his hands, while Whitey paced in slow circles around him.

“You got a gift, son,” Whitey said. “I’ve seen it down at the River Court. You play with heart. Not a lotta boys got that anymore.”

Lucas rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.

“With all due respect, Coach, the Ravens are Nathan’s team,” Lucas said stiffly. “Dan’s team.”

Whitey stopped pacing.

“I don’t give a damn about Dan,” Whitey growled. “Or Nathan. I care about the game. And you’ve got somethin’ they don’t. Hunger. Fire.” He leaned closer. “That’s what wins games.”

Through the crack, I could see Lucas swallow hard, the weight of it all pressing down.

“He’s gonna say yes,” Pony whispered beside me.

“Not tonight,” I muttered back. “Kid’s too careful. But it’s comin’.”

Inside, Lucas spun the ball in his hands, then shook his head.

“I can’t,” Lucas said grimly. “That’s Nathan’s world. It’s not mine.”

Whitey chuckled, like he’d heard that a thousand times.

“The minute you step on that court, it becomes yours,” Whitey said with a smirk. “Think about it.”

The coach walked off, leaving Lucas alone on the hardwood, ball echoing as he dribbled once. Just one sound, sharp and lonely.

For a second, he looked like he belonged there.

“He should do it,” Jonny whispered.

Soda nodded, eyes glued to Lucas.

“He will,” Soda said.

I leaned back from the door, grinning.

“And when he does, Nathan Scott’s ego ain’t gonna know what hit him,” I said.

The gym went quiet again except for Lucas, shooting baskets into the empty hoop, each swish ringing louder than the last.

We slipped away before he caught us spying, but one thing was clear: Tree Hill was about to get a show, and we had front row seats.

By the time the workday ended, the sun was already low, stretching orange and purple across the water. That meant one thing for us: we headed straight for the River Court. Pony and Johnny were already racing each other down the cracked sidewalk, and Soda had his arm slung around Steve’s shoulder, talkin’ about cars again. Dally tagged along at the back, cigarette hangin’ loose from his lips like he owned the night.

Lucas and his crew were there, ball in hand. Skills called dibs on the first shot, and the game was on before I even had my jacket off.

Now, I ain’t much of a baller, but I’ll tell ya, there’s somethin’ about the River Court that gets your blood movin’. The lights buzz overhead, sneakers squeak on the blacktop, and the ball sings when it smacks against the pavement. It ain’t about lookin’ good, it’s about playin’ like you got somethin’ to prove.

And that’s exactly how Lucas played.

I was catchin’ my breath when Darry showed up, still in his work boots and dusty shirt. He looked like he’d just walked off the site, but when Pony lobbed him the ball, he took it without hesitating, drove in hard, and finished with a clean layup. The River Court gang hooted like he’d been part of it forever.

Lucas chuckled, wiping sweat off his forehead.

“Guess talent runs in the Curtis family,” Lucas teased.

“Don’t let him fool you,” Darry said, smirking. “Most days I’m too tired to move.”

The game wound down after a while, everybody sprawlin’ across the court in sweaty heaps. That’s when Lucas got quiet, twirling the ball between his hands.

“Whitey talked to me today,” Lucas said finally. His voice carried across the court, making all of us look his way.

“Figured,” I said. “He had that gleam in his eye when he was watchin’ you.”

Lucas shook his head.

“He wants me to play for the Ravens,” Lucas said.

The River Court gang sat up straighter. Skills let out a low whistle.

“No way,” Junk muttered.

Steve looked impressed. Soda too. Pony’s eyes went wide like Lucas had just been offered the moon.

“You gonna do it?” Johnny asked, hope in his voice.

Lucas leaned back on his hands, staring up at the lights.

“It’s not that simple,” Lucas said. “That’s Nathan’s world. My dad’s world. I’m not sure I wanna be part of it.”

Darry wiped sweat from his brow, quiet for a beat.

“Sometimes you don’t get to pick the fight, kid,” Darry said. “Sometimes it picks you.”

The court went silent after that. Even Dally didn’t crack a joke. We all just sat there, the hum of the lights above us and the sound of the river rolling nearby.
Lucas finally tossed the ball up, caught it again.

“Guess I’ve got some thinking to do,” Lucas said.

Skills clapped him on the back.

“Whatever you decide, River Court’s got your back,” Skills said with a grin.

“Yeah,” I added, grinning. “And so do a bunch of misfits from Tulsa. Ain’t every day we root for a Scott, but… you’re different.”

That got Lucas to smile, just a little.

The night carried on with more shots, more trash talk, and more laughter. But underneath it all, I knew one thing for sure: Lucas Scott was standin’ at the edge of somethin’ big, and whether he liked it or not, we were standin’ there with him.

Darry headed back home from the court while the rest of the gang and I finished playing.

By the time we all stumbled back to the house, it smelled like heaven, Darry had dinner cookin’, and after runnin’ ourselves ragged at the River Court, I swear I could’ve eaten a whole cow by myself.

“’ Bout time you jokers showed up,” Darry said, stirrin’ a pot on the stove. “Dinner’s almost cold.”

“Cold food, hot food, it doesn’t matter,” I said, rubbing my stomach. “Just gimme a plate before I waste away.”

Soda rolled his eyes.

“You’ve got reserves, Two-Bit,” Soda groaned. “You’ll live.”

We crowded around the table, plates piled high. Darry tried to keep it civil, but you get Pony, Soda, Johnny, Steve, Dally, and me all at one table? Yeah, good luck with that. Food was passin’ faster than I could blink. Dally snatched the last biscuit, so I grabbed it. Next thing I know, Pony’s laughing so hard he nearly spilled his milk.

“Act like you never ate before,” Darry muttered, though I caught the corner of his mouth twitchin’. He liked seein’ us happy, even if we were a mess.

Halfway through dinner, Pony brought up the River Court.

“Do you think Lucas will join the Ravens?” Pony asked nervously. “It’ll cause trouble. Especially with Nathan. It’ll paint a large target on our back since we’re friends with him.”

The table went quiet for a beat, like we were all thinkin’ the same thing: this town’s drama was pullin’ us in whether we wanted it or not.

Steve whistled low.

“Big deal, huh?” Steve said. “Bet Nathan’s havin’ a fit. Especially after that scene in the library today.”

Soda nodded.

“He’ll blow up, no doubt,” Soda agreed.

Johnny spoke softly, like he wasn’t sure if he should.

“Lucas deserves it, though,” Johnny said quietly. “He’s good. Better than Nathan, probably.”

Dally snorted.

“Better or not, Nathan’s still Dan Scott’s kid,” Dally said. “That means he runs the show.”

I leaned back in my chair, pointin’ at Dally with my fork.

“Not forever,” I said with a smirk. “Lucas just might knock that crown right off his head.”

Darry shot me a look.

“You’re not in Tulsa anymore, Keith,” Darry warned. “Leave the fighting to them. We came here for a fresh start.”

“Sure, big man,” I said with a grin. “But if this is Tree Hill’s version of Socs and Greasers, we might as well get the popcorn ready. The show’s about to start.”

That got Soda laughing, Pony shaking his head, and Johnny smilin’ just a little. Even Darry couldn’t hide the way his jaw tightened, like he knew I wasn’t all wrong.

Dinner carried on with the usual noise, Steve crackin’ jokes, Soda tryin’ to keep me from stealin’ seconds, Pony arguin’ about books. It felt good, sittin’ there together, like nothin’ in the world could touch us.

But I couldn’t shake the thought: Lucas Scott had just taken the first step into a fight he didn’t even realize he was in. And whether Darry liked it or not, we were sittin’ front row.

Dinner was barely over when the phone rang. Soda grabbed it first, kid’s got reflexes like lightning.

“Curtis residence,” Soda said in his best fake grown-up voice. Then he grinned and held the receiver out. “It’s Lucas. Wants to know if we’re up for some late-night hoops.”

Darry arched a brow.

“You’ve all had enough for one day,” Darry said.

“Aw, c’mon, Darry,” I said. “The night’s still young, and besides, Lucas probably needs backup after what Whitey laid on him.”

Pony was already pulling on his jacket. Johnny looked eager, too, and even Dally shrugged like he had nothing better to do. Darry sighed the way only Darry can, then grabbed his own coat.

“Fine,” Darry groaned. “But don’t make me regret this.”

The River Court was lit up under buzzing streetlamps, the water glinting in the background. Lucas was already there, ball under his arm. We split into teams, and the game kicked off easily, full of laughs and trash talk.

Darry surprised everybody by holding his own; he wasn’t just muscle for construction sites. Turns out he had a mean jump shot, too. Pony darted around like a streak, Johnny got a clean steal that had Soda whooping, and even I managed to sink one, though I’ll admit it was a total fluke.

For a while, it was just basketball and laughter, like nothing outside Tree Hill mattered.

Then the headlights cut across the court, breaking the spell. A sleek black SUV rolled up, and sure enough, Nathan Scott and his lapdog Tim climbed out.

Nathan’s smirk said it all before he even opened his mouth.

“Well, well,” Nathan said with a smirk. “What do we have here? Lucas Scott and his little charity case friends.”

I felt Soda bristle beside me, and Dally muttered something under his breath that I probably shouldn’t repeat.

Lucas didn’t flinch. Just held the ball steady in his hands.

“Just playin’ ball, Nathan,” Lucas said smoothly. “Court’s open to everyone.”

Nathan stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “Stay off my court. Please stay away from my team. And stay out of my world, Lucas. You don’t belong.”

Tim laughed like Nathan had just said the funniest thing ever, but it sounded hollow, forced.

Darry stepped forward, arms crossed, calm but solid as a wall.

“That’s enough,” Darry warned.

Nathan barely spared him a glance.

“Who’s the babysitter?” Nathan sneered.

I couldn’t help it, I laughed.

“That’d be our Darry,” I said with a smirk. “Careful, he’ll outshoot you in those work boots.”

Nathan’s jaw tightened, but Lucas’s eyes told a different story: hurt, anger, something boiling just beneath the surface. He didn’t back down, not an inch.

“You don’t own this court,” Lucas said evenly. “And you don’t own me.”

For a second, the whole place was stone-silent. Then Nathan gave that cold little smile and turned back toward the SUV.

“Enjoy it while it lasts, big brother,” Nathan warned.

The engine roared, the taillights faded, and the night air felt heavier than it had before.

Lucas stood still, ball in his hands, like he was weighing every word that had just been thrown his way. Darry laid a hand on his shoulder, steady and sure.

“Don’t let him shake you,” Darry said darkly. “You’ve got more than he’ll ever have.”

Lucas looked at him, then at all of us, and for the first time, I saw it clearly: this wasn’t just about basketball. It was about pride, family, and a fight that was only just getting started.

I grinned, trying to break the tension.

“Well, guess that means tomorrow’s game night’s gonna be real interesting,” I said with a low whistle.

Nobody laughed. Not even me, not really.

Because deep down, we all knew Nathan Scott had just drawn the line in the sand. Things were going down. And we were potentially in the cross-hairs. I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Steve’s POV

The next morning, I woke up to the smell of pancakes and coffee being made downstairs. I looked over at my alarm clock and groaned. I had awoken before my alarm. Two whole fucking minutes early.
I got up anyway and threw my pillow at Two-Bit to wake him up.

“Rise and shine,” I grumbled. “Darry’s making pancakes, and he has coffee ready to go.”

“I don’t want to,” Two-Bit whined. “Well, you know Darry won’t let you go to the face off tonight at the River Court if you don’t go to school and work.”

Two-Bit groaned.

“But I’m 18,” Two-Bit moaned.

“An 18-year-old who got held back a grade or two,” I snapped back. “So get your ass up.”

I stumbled into the bathroom and hopped into the shower. I was grateful that there were three bathrooms in the house. Luckily, there was still hot water.

After I finished getting dressed, packing my backpack for school and work things, I went downstairs. It looked like I had only beaten Two-Bit down.

“At least I beat the food hog,” I grumbled.

“Well,” Darry said over his shoulder as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “You just missed Haley. She stopped by on her way to Karen and Lucas’s. She asked you guys to tag along on the walk together. Something about moral support for Lucas tonight.”

“Great,” I said sarcastically.

“Are you going to the match tonight, Dar?” Soda asked with a full mouth.

“I don’t know,” Darry said with a sigh. “It’s pretty late, and I have a long day at work today and tomorrow.”

“Oh come on, Dar,” Two-Bit said with a smirk as he took a first bite of pancake. “It’ll be fun, and it will keep you entertained and take a load off.”

“Fine, “ Darry said. “But you all better behave today at school and work.”

“We always do, Dar,” Pony promised. “But I can’t make any promises about Dally.”

“With that mouth, you're in some deep shit,” Dally grumbled.

“Lay off, Dal,” Johnny said. “He was just teasing.”

After Two-Bit finished, we met Haley and Lucas outside to walk to school.

“Morning, Luke,” Soda grinned. “Ready to face another exciting day at Tree Hill High?”

Lucas smirked a little.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Lucas said.

We started down the street together, the river glinting off to our left. Haley walked up alongside Pony, chatting with him about some book they’d both read. Kid looked like he’d finally found someone who spoke his language, and honestly, it was good to see him smile like that.

Two-Bit, meanwhile, wouldn’t quit.

“So, Lucas, what’s it like bein’ public enemy number one?” Two-Bit asked with a smirk. “Nathan looked like he wanted to chew nails last night.”

Lucas shook his head, trying to play it cool.

“He’ll get over it,” Lucas said.

“Don’t think so,” Dally muttered. “He’s the type that doesn’t let go.”

Haley gave Dally a pointed look. “Nathan’s just… Nathan. He likes being in control.”

“Yeah, well,” I said, kicking a rock along the sidewalk, “control doesn’t mean much if Lucas keeps outplaying him.”

Lucas didn’t answer, just shoved his hands deeper in his pockets. He carried himself like a guy used to keepin’ things close to the chest. I respected that.

As we got closer to school, the buzz picked up. You could feel it in the air: students milling around, whispering, laughing. The whole town already knew about the bus hijacking, about the River Court rivalry, about the Scotts. And now, with Lucas in the middle of it? Yeah, things were about to get really interesting.

“Just remember,” Haley said, sliding her bag higher on her shoulder, “ignore Nathan. Stick with your friends. That’s what matters.”

Lucas gave her a small smile.

“Yeah. Friends,” Lucas said. His eyes flicked to us, me, Soda, Pony, Johnny, Two-Bit, and even Dally. Like he wasn’t used to havin’ a crew at his back.

“Don’t forget to include old Darry in there,” Soda teased.

Everyone laughed.

And maybe that’s when it hit me, we weren’t just outsiders anymore. We were part of this town’s story, whether Tree Hill was ready for us or not.

The school day was abuzz with excitement about the matchup tonight at the river court. People were placing bets about who would win.

“I guess the river court is the place to be tonight,” Dally drawled. “Hopefully, Mr. Up-tight won’t get his panties in a twist.”

“Darry, not that bad,” Johnny said. “He just wants what’s best for all of us, especially Pony and Soda.”

We couldn’t protest that. We knew it was true.

After the long, grueling school day, I met with Soda and Lucas to head to Keith’s auto shop.
“How often to hang out at Keith’s?” Soda asked.

“A lot,” Lucas admitted with a small smile. “Keith is more of a father figure to me than my own, even though he’s only my uncle.”

“That’s nice,” I said. “Better than my own dad. Hell, Darry is more of an older brother/father figure for me, and his parents before him.”

“What happened to your parents?” Lucas asked Soda quietly. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Soda shrugged.

“They were killed in a car accident, back in January,” Soda said quietly. “On Darry’s 20th birthday, no less. So Darry had to step up to be both Pony and mine’s guardian and older brother.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Lucas said grimly.

Before we could talk more, we were at Keith’s.

“I’m glad you guys are here,” Keith said with a grin. “Why don’t you take the tow truck out. We got a call.”

“Sweet,” I said with a grin. “We finally get to go out in the field. Thanks, Mr. Scott.”

“Please, call me Keith,” Keith said with a wince.

“Sure, Keith,” Soda said with a chuckle.

The tow truck rattled down the back roads, the old engine humming steadily. Lucas drove like he’d been born behind the wheel, calm, hands steady, eyes on the road. Soda rode shotgun, talkin’ his ear off about cars, and I leaned against the window in the back, letting the wind whip through my hair.

That’s when we saw her.

The car pulled over on the shoulder, hood popped, and smoke curled into the air. Peyton Sawyer, blonde curls wild, leaned against the fender like she’d been waiting all day. Stereo blaring some angsty tune, windows down, attitude written all over her face.

“Figures,” Lucas muttered, pulling over.

“Friend of yours?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Not exactly,” Lucas said, climbing out.

Soda and I followed. Peyton barely glanced at us, chewing her gum slowly.

“Car trouble?” Lucas asked, casually.

She raised a brow.

“What gave it away?” Peyton said sarcastically. “The smoke?”

I bit back a laugh. The girl had fire, I’d give her that.

Lucas popped the hood, checking the engine while Soda leaned in to help. I stayed back, watching Peyton. She had this restless energy, like she’d rather be anywhere but stranded on the side of the road.

Lucas wiped his hands on a rag.

“Looks like your alternator’s shot,” Lucas said. “You’ll need a tow.”

Peyton sighed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face.

“Great,” Peyton grumbled. Just great.”

Soda shot her a grin.

“Don’t worry, lucky for you, we’ve got a tow truck,” Soda said lightly.

Her eyes flicked to him, then me, then back to Lucas.

“Guess I don’t have much choice, do I?” Peyton said uneasily.

“Nope,” Lucas said with a small smile. “Good thing we’re trustworthy.”

I chuckled under my breath. She didn’t trust anybody; it wasn’t hard to see. But she climbed into the truck anyway, turning up her music like it was armor.

The three of us rode up front, Soda trying to lighten the mood, me just soaking it all in. Lucas kept his eyes straight on the road, but every once in a while, I caught him sneaking a look at Peyton in the rearview mirror.

Couldn’t blame him. Even with her sharp edges, there was something about her that pulled you in.

The tow truck rattled into Keith’s Auto Shop with Peyton’s car limping behind. Soda and I hopped out right away; it wasn’t just a pit stop for us. This was our turf now, our job. The smell of grease and rubber, the clang of tools on metal, felt more like home than anywhere else in Tree Hill so far.

Lucas unhooked Peyton’s car, quiet and tight-jawed. Soda slid into work mode, popping the hood with me and checking things over. Peyton hung back, arms crossed, music still blaring faintly from her car stereo.

Keith came out, wiping his hands.

“Good work, kid,” Keith said to Lucas, clapping him on the shoulder. Then he nodded at us. “Glad you boys are here, figured this tow might give you a head start today.”

“Yeah,” I said with a grin. “Guess Tree Hill cars break down just like Tulsa’s.”

“Only difference is,” Soda added, “in Tulsa, nobody trusts you with their ride unless you can prove you’re the best. Here, looks like Lucas already did the convincing.”

Keith chuckled, shaking his head.

“Well, Lucas has always been handy,” Keith said with a smile.

That’s when a voice cut sharply across the shop.

“Well, isn’t this cozy?” A voice sneered behind us.

Dan Scott. Suit pressed sharp enough to cut glass, a smirk glued on his face. He looked like he didn’t belong within ten feet of an auto shop, and the way he carried himself said he knew it, too.

Lucas stiffened immediately. Soda froze, wrench still in his hand.

Dan’s gaze slid over us before landing on Lucas.

“So this is what you’re doing with your time?” Dan sneered. “Towing cars for your uncle?”

Keith crossed his arms. “Dan, this is my shop. You don’t get to barge in here running your mouth.”

But Dan didn’t stop.

“You’ve got a real future, Lucas,” Dan said. “One, you’re throwing away down here with grease monkeys and river rats.” His eyes flicked to Soda and me, sharp as knives.

I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. I’d heard that tone before; the Socs back in Tulsa used it every time they looked down their noses at us. And it burned the same here in Tree Hill.

Lucas’s grip tightened on the rag in his hands, his knuckles white. He didn’t say a word, but the fire in his eyes said plenty.

Keith stepped forward.

“Enough, Dan,” Keith said darkly. “Get out.”

Dan smirked, like he’d already won something just by showing up. He gave Lucas one last glance, cold and cutting, before strolling back out like the place was beneath him.

The silence left behind felt heavy.

Lucas dropped the rag on the counter, chest rising and falling sharply. Soda stepped closer, voice low.

“Don’t let him get to you, man,” Soda said. “He just wants to shake you.”

Lucas shook his head, but his voice came out hard.

“He doesn’t get to decide who I am,” Lucas said dejectedly.

I leaned against the workbench, arms crossed, still stewing.

“Looks to me like Tree Hill’s got its own version of Socs,” I said. “Only this time, one of ‘em’s your old man.”

Lucas didn’t answer, but the look on his face said enough. He wasn’t running from this fight. Not anymore.

By the time we locked up Keith’s shop that night, Soda and I were still wound up from Dan’s little visit. Lucas had gone quiet, which wasn’t unusual, but tonight it felt heavier. Like he had a storm bottled up inside him.

We trailed back toward the River Court, the gang already gathering there. Pony and Johnny had a ball tucked under their arms, Two-Bit was crackin’ jokes with Skills and Fergie, and Dally leaned against the fence smoking like always. It was almost normal, until Nathan Scott’s shiny ride pulled up. Darry was leaning against a bench.

Nathan stepped out with Tim at his side, smug as ever. You could feel the shift in the air, like everybody knew something was about to go down.

Nathan called across the court.

“Hey, Lucas!” Nathan said. “Got a proposition for you.”

Lucas straightened, ball still in his hands.

“What do you want, Nathan?” Lucas asked.

Nathan smirked, eyes gleaming under the court lights.

“One-on-one,” Nathan said. “You win, you get the last spot on the Ravens. You lose, you stay in the gutter where you belong.”

The River Court gang bristled.

“That’s some bull right there,” Skills muttered.

“What’s the matter, Nate?” Two-Bit cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted. “Afraid he’ll beat you without the fancy jersey?”

Nathan ignored us. His focus was locked on Lucas.

“You in, or you scared?” Nathan asked.

Lucas’s jaw tightened. For a second, I thought he might walk away, but then he stepped forward, steady, and bounced the ball once against the pavement. The sound cracked through the night.

“I’m in,” Lucas said. “But if I win, I get Peyton.”

The court erupted, half cheers, half nerves.

“This is it,” Soda whispered in my ear. “This is the start of somethin’.”

The game tipped off fast and hard. Lucas moved with quiet precision, reading Nathan like a book. Nathan played rough, all elbows and swagger, but Lucas didn’t flinch. Pony and Johnny shouted encouragement, Skills and Junk whooped every time Lucas drove the lane, and even Dally cracked a grin when Lucas sank a clean jumper.

It was a tight, neck-and-neck race. Then Lucas got the ball, faked left, spun right, and drove past Nathan like he wasn’t even there. The ball hit the backboard, dropped through the net, and the court exploded.

“Game!” Skills yelled, throwing his arms up.

Nathan scowled, his face red, chest heaving. “This doesn’t mean anything. You’ll never be one of us.”

Lucas just stared at him, calm but fierce.

“Guess we’ll see,” Lucas said.

Nathan stormed off with Tim scrambling after him, their SUV peeling out loud enough to rattle windows.

The rest of us crowded around Lucas, clapping his back, shouting over one another. Darry had a proud look on his face. Pony grinned like he’d just watched history being made. Soda looked proud, like Lucas was family. And me, I just shook my head, smiling.

“Tree Hill’s got no idea what’s comin’,” I said.

And standing there under the River Court lights, I knew it was true. Lucas Scott had just stepped into the fight of his life, and we were right there with him.

That night, we went home amped up.

“That was amazing,” Johnny said in awe.

“It just means more trouble around us,” Darry moaned. “I thought moving here would get us out of it.”

“Tough luck,” Dally muttered. “It looks like you jinxed us.”

“Nice going, Dar,” Two-Bit teased. “But don’t worry, we have each other’s back.”

“Well,” Darry said. “I got takeout from Karen’s for tonight. I figured if things didn’t go as planned, we had some comfort food, and if they did go right, we had some good food.”

“That sounds like a good plan, Dar,” Soda said with a smile.

When we got home, we all shoveled down some of Karen’s good food, but then Darry had to ruin the mood and hound us to work on homework before we went to bed.

But I knew things were going to be changing around here.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Dally’s POV

Let’s just say that it was a long weekend of work at Karen’s diner, but we were slowly getting the hang of it.

That and also, Two-Bit was continuously goofing around the cafe and making Karen laugh. It looked like she needed it, though, especially with Lucas’s first game as a Tree Hill Raven tonight.

“You know you guys are free to go play with Lucas and his other friends at the river court before the big game,” Karen said. “I can close up shop.”

“You sure?” Pony asked guiltily. “We don’t want to leave you hanging.

“I’m sure,” Karen said. “Plus, Haley is here with me for a little bit more until she leaves with Keith for the game.”

“Go have some fun,” Haley said. “When Karen says to do it. You do it. Plus, Lucas needs all the support he can get.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” I grumbled. “He has us to back him up if Nathan gives him trouble.”

Johnny stiffened.

“You know Darry says we have to keep our heads down,” Johnny said nervously. “Especially after what happened in Tulsa.”

“What happened in Tulsa?” Haley asked.

“A long story,” Two-Bit said. “Trust me.”

Karen gave us a concerned look.

“We’re fine,” Pony said quickly. “Nothing we couldn’t handle. Thanks for letting us go, Karen. We owe you one.”

“Have fun,” Karen called after us.

We started to head towards the River Court.

“Why don’t you think Karen’s going to the game?” Johnny asked.

“Probably because she doesn’t want to run into Dan’s good-for-nothing ass,” I grumbled.

“It’s kind of like how Darry always got skittish going to any football games back home because of the chance of seeing Paul,” Pony said.

We finally arrived at the River Court. Steve, Soda, and Darry were waiting for us with the others.

The River Court always looked different at night. Lights buzzing, chain nets clinking, the Cape Fear rolling steadily in the background. It wasn’t Tulsa, but it had the same kind of edge, the type of place where you figured out who you were when nobody else was watching.

Lucas was spinning the ball in his hands, eyes darker than usual. Skills, Fergie, Mouth, and Junk hung around, cracking jokes and talking trash, but you could feel the weight in the air. His first game with the Ravens was coming, and everybody knew it wasn’t just about basketball.

The gang spread across the court like we owned it. Pony and Johnny were passing the ball back and forth, Johnny smiling for once. Two-Bit was clowning with Mouth, doing his bad impressions and getting laughs. Soda and Steve leaned on the fence, talking shop with Skills about cars. Darry still had dust on his shirt from work. He didn’t say much, just folded his arms and watched.

I flicked my lighter open and shut, leaning against the fence. Didn’t need to play, didn’t care to, but I liked watching.

“Y’know,” Two-Bit said loud enough for everybody to hear, “Lucas here looks like he’s about to take on the entire state of North Carolina, not just Nathan Scott.”

Lucas smirked faintly.

“Feels about the same,” Lucas said.

Skills stepped up beside him, clapping his shoulder.

“Man, you got this,” Skills said with encouragement. “You’ve been takin’ Nathan apart at the River Court for years. Tonight, you just get to do it under the lights.”

“Yeah,” Steve added, “only difference is you’ll have the whole town watchin’.”

Lucas tossed the ball to Pony, who caught it clean.

“You nervous?” Pony asked him.

Lucas shrugged.

“Does it matter?” Lucas asked.

“Means you care,” Darry said from the fence. His voice carried that steady weight that always shut everybody up. “And if you care, you’ll play like hell. That’s all that counts.”

The night carried on, shots flying, sneakers squeaking, laughter echoing. But underneath it all, I could feel it; Lucas was gearing up for a fight, and this one was gonna be bigger than any of us had seen yet.

And I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

By the time we wrapped at the River Court, you could feel the buzz in the air. Lucas’s first game as a Raven wasn’t just another night; it was the show this whole damn town had been waiting for.

“Let’s roll,” Skills said, grabbing his jacket. “Ain’t no way we’re missin’ this.”

So we all went, me, Pony, Soda, Steve, Johnny, Two-Bit, Darry, and the River Court gang, packed together like one loud, scrappy army heading straight into enemy territory.

Tree Hill High was lit up like Christmas when we got there, cars crowding the lot, families and students flooding toward the gym. Inside, the bleachers were already packed, the noise bouncing off the walls. Banners hung from the rafters, cheerleaders in Ravens blue lined the court, and the band blasted fight songs loud enough to rattle your teeth.

We found seats together halfway up the bleachers. Soda and Steve were cracking jokes with Fergie and Junk, Two-Bit was already trying to flirt with a cheerleader from across the court, and Pony kept his eyes on the players warming up, quiet and thoughtful. Darry sat beside him, calm but watchful, arms folded tight.

Nathan was on the floor, running drills with that same smug smirk, like the gym was his kingdom. Every cheer that rose from the crowd seemed to fuel him more. But when Lucas jogged out in his uniform, number 3 on his back, the whole gym shifted. People whispered, pointed, and some even laughed.

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, watching Nathan glare across the court at his half-brother.

“This is it,” I muttered. “They’re about to throw down for real.”

Lucas didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look Nathan’s way. He just lined up, dribbled, took a shot, and swished. Clean.

Pony smiled faintly.

“He belongs out there,” Pony said.

“Damn right,” I said.

The crowd noise swelled as the tip-off drew closer. The Ravens huddled up, Whitey pacing the sidelines, his eyes sharper than ever.

From our spot in the stands, it felt like we were part of somethin’ bigger than just a game. Tulsa felt a million miles away.

And as the ref blew the whistle, the ball soaring into the air, I knew one thing for sure: whether Lucas won or lost tonight, the whole town of Tree Hill would never look at him, or at us, the same way again.

The game didn’t go like anybody hoped.

From the jump, Nathan was in Lucas’s head. Trash talk every play, elbows where the ref wouldn’t see. Lucas tried, hell, he always tries, but the shots weren’t falling, his passes were sloppy, and every mistake just made the crowd louder. You could hear kids in the stands laughing, whispering. The same people who’d spent the week talking about “the new Scott brother” now looked ready to write him off.

By halftime, I could see the frustration all over him. Jaw clenched, sweat dripping, eyes darting every which way but at Nathan. The Ravens still won, the team was too good not to, but Lucas barely made a dent. And in a gym that crowded, failure stuck like tar.

When the buzzer finally sounded, we didn’t even stick around. Didn’t feel like a win worth cheering for.

We walked back through the cool night air, the whole gang quiet for once. Soda tried to crack a joke to lighten it, but even he gave up when nobody bit. Lucas had already ducked out somewhere; we figured he didn’t want to be seen.

So we ended up at Karen’s Café. Warm light spilling from the windows, smell of coffee and pie in the air. It was the one place in this town that felt steady.

Inside, Karen was behind the counter, wiping down mugs. Keith sat on a stool across from her, shoulders slouched, talking low. We came in quietly, but not so quietly that we didn’t catch what he said.

“You should’ve been there, Karen.” Keith’s voice carried a disappointment that was heavier than anger. “It was his first game. He needed to see you in those stands.”

Karen sighed, setting down the mug.

“I know,” Karen said guiltily. “I just… I couldn’t. Not with Dan there. Not with all those people whispering.”

Keith shook his head.

“You can’t hide forever,” Keith said. “He’s your son. He deserves to know you’ve got his back.”

Karen’s eyes softened, sad but stubborn.

“I’ve always got his back,” Karen said. “I just… I didn’t want to make it worse for him.”

The gang shuffled toward a booth, giving them space, though we all heard every word. Soda slid in beside me, Pony and Johnny across from us. Two-Bit and Steve grabbed the next booth over. Darry stayed standing, arms folded, eyes on Karen like he was weighing her words.

I leaned back, lighting a smoke even though I knew Karen wouldn’t like it.

“Figures,” I muttered low enough for only Soda to hear. “Kid busts his ass out there, and the people that should’ve been cheerin’ the loudest ain’t even there.”

Soda gave me a look, half warning, half agreement.
“Ain’t that simple, Dal,” Soda said sadly.

“Sure it is,” I said, blowing smoke toward the window. “You show up for family. End of story.”

But looking over at Karen, I saw the guilt plain on her face. Maybe Soda was right. Maybe nothin’ in Tree Hill was ever that simple.

Later that night, the town was dead quiet, but I knew Lucas wasn’t done. Guys like him don’t just swallow failure and go to bed. They grind it out until the sting dulls.

Sure enough, we found him at the River Court. Lights buzzing overhead, the river rolling black and steady, and Lucas out there alone, ball thudding against the cracked pavement. Sweat still on his brow, uniform peeled down to his T-shirt, eyes locked on the hoop like it was the only thing left that made sense.

The rest of us spread out. Two-Bit flopped on the bench, Pony and Johnny sat on the fence, Soda and Steve leaned against the poles. Darry crossed his arms, watching but not saying a word. I stayed near the back, smoke curling around me, keeping an eye on Lucas.

He kept shooting. Missed one, cursed under his breath, rebounded, tried again. Then again. And again. Like, if he just stayed out there long enough, he could erase the whole game.

After a while, headlights cut across the court. A familiar car rolled up, music spilling out. Peyton Sawyer.

She didn’t say anything right away. Just stood there, arms crossed, curls falling in her face, watching him shoot. The ball clanged off the rim, bounced wide, and rolled right to her feet. She bent, picked it up, and spun it in her hands like she was weighing it.

“Nice game,” Peyton said, voice dry.

Lucas looked at her, eyes tired but sharp.

“You ran out on me,” Lucas said.

She smirked, tossing the ball back to him.

“Yeah. I do that sometimes,” Peyton said dryly.

He caught it, held it for a beat, then looked down at the ground. The silence stretched, heavy but not uncomfortable.

Finally, Peyton turned to leave, her music cranking up as she climbed back into her car. The taillights faded into the dark, leaving just the hum of the river and the squeak of sneakers on asphalt.

Lucas dribbled once, squared up, and let another shot fly. Swish.

Two-Bit whooped from the bench, breaking the quiet.

“There it is!” Two-Bit crowed.

Soda clapped his hands.

“Told ya, man, you got it in you,” Soda said.

Lucas just nodded, eyes on the hoop, already lining up his next shot.

I flicked my lighter open, watching the flame dance. The kid had been knocked down, no doubt about it. But out here, under these lights, he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

And for the first time since we rolled into Tree Hill, I had the feeling we’d picked the right fight to be part of.

After Peyton drove off and Lucas kept shooting like the world depended on it, the rest of us started drifting. Pony and Johnny were yawning, Soda kept rubbing his eyes, and even Two-Bit finally ran out of dumb jokes.

Darry was the first to call it.

“Alright,” Darry said. “That’s enough for tonight. Let’s head home.”

Lucas didn’t argue, just scooped up the ball and followed. Kid looked wrung out, but there was a fire in his eyes now, like the game hadn’t beat it out of him, just lit it hotter.

The walk back was quiet. The night air was cool, crickets buzzing in the brush. We stuck together in a loose pack, sneakers scuffing the pavement. Soda and Steve talked in low voices about shifts at Keith’s shop, Pony muttered something to Johnny about a book, and Darry kept watch like he always does, making sure no one lagged.

I walked near the back, hands shoved in my jacket, smoke dangling from my lips. For the first time since Tulsa, it felt like we weren’t just killing time. Like we were caught up in something bigger.
When we finally made it back to the Curtis place, the lights from Karen’s Café were still glowing across the yard. You could see her moving around inside, probably cleaning up, worrying.

We filed inside, each of us claiming whatever spot we could, couch, floor, chairs, didn’t matter. Soda tossed a pillow at Two-Bit, who immediately started snoring on purpose. Pony curled up with a blanket, Johnny beside him, quiet but at peace.

“Get some sleep,” Darry muttered as he checked the locks, shut off the lights. “Tomorrow’s another day.”

I stretched out on the rug, staring up at the ceiling. Couldn’t stop hearing the sound of that ball hitting the rim, over and over, Lucas refusing to quit.

Tree Hill had its own kind of rumble going, only this one wasn’t about fists or blades. It was about pride, family, proving you belong.

And I had the feeling we’d be right in the middle of it, whether we wanted to or not.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Johnny’s POV

Let’s just say that after the whole game thing, school had been a little tense. But we were all starting to get the hang of things. We started blending in with the crowd. We weren’t the new kids anymore.
I got up wearily when my alarm started blaring and walked over to shake Dally awake for school.

“Dal,” I said wearily. “Wake up. We need to get ready for school.”

Dally moaned and pulled his pillow over his head.

“Come on,” Dally moaned. “I don’t want to. School is a waste of time anyway.”
I rolled my eyes.

“Come on,” I said. “I can smell Darry making waffles downstairs, and I can smell the coffee. Plus, you know the deal with Darry. We have to go to school and work if we want to stay here. And here under a roof is better than nothing.”

Dally glared up at me, but didn’t complain.

After cleaning up and getting dressed, I plopped myself at the kitchen table with my backpack.

I was the first one down there.

Darry gave me a warm smile as he placed a plate of waffles with syrup on the table in front of me.

“Thanks, Dar,” I said, returning his warm smile.

“You know you don’t have to thank me right,” Darry said with a smirk.

I blushed and nodded.

“I know,” I mumbled as I took a bite of waffle. “I guess I’m still kind of getting used to the new normal around here.”

Darry nodded understandingly.

Soon enough, the rest of the guys came running down the stairs, loudly talking. After breakfast, we all headed to school to get the day started.

School still felt strange in Tree Hill, even though I was kind of getting used to it. Tulsa classrooms were loud, restless, and teachers half-expecting trouble every time you opened your mouth. Here, the halls were shinier, lockers less dented, teachers lookin’ at you like they already had you figured out.

I slid into my seat in Language Arts, Pony right beside me with his notebook already out. Two-Bit leaned back two rows behind us, grinning like he was gonna stir trouble just for the fun of it. Soda, Steve, and Dally were scattered across the room. Lucas took the desk by the window, staring outside like he wished he were anywhere else.

The teacher walked in, all sharp lines and steady eyes, setting a stack of papers down on his desk.

“Alright,” the teacher said, “today we’re going to try something simple. I want each of you to describe yourself in one word.”

That got the room buzzing. A few kids groaned, somebody muttered “lame,” but the teacher didn’t flinch.

He started going around the room.

“Confident,” one girl said.

“Driven,” another answered.

When it hit Nathan Scott, he smirked and leaned back.

“Winner,” Nathan said.

His buddies laughed like he’d just said the cleverest thing in the world.

Peyton rolled her eyes, tossing out “Lonely.”

The word landed heavily in the room, but she didn’t look like she cared.

Then it came to Lucas. He didn’t look up from the window when he said it. “Bastard.”

The whole class went quiet. Even I froze. He said it low, but clear enough for everyone to hear. The teacher opened his mouth like she might call him on it, but didn’t. He just moved on.
Pony glanced at me, his eyes wide. I knew he was thinkin’ the same thing I was, that one word carried more weight than all the rest put together.

When it was my turn, I swallowed, fingers twitching on the desk.

“Survivor,” I said. My voice wasn’t loud, but it was steady.

A few kids snickered, but I didn’t care. Pony gave me this little nod, like he got it. Like he always does.

By the time it was Soda’s turn, he grinned and said, “Loyal.”

Two-Bit threw out “Hilarious” and nearly fell out of his chair when the teacher rolled her eyes. Steve said, “Independent,” Dally smirked, “Trouble,” and Pony, after thinking way too hard, whispered, “Observer.”

The words hung in the air long after the exercise ended. Some kids laughed it off, like it was just a joke. But for us, for me, for Lucas, even for Pony’s words were the truth, sitting heavy on our shoulders whether anybody else understood or not.

And sitting there, I realized Tree Hill wasn’t just giving us a new start. It was holding up a mirror.

When the bell rang, the whole room moved like it’d been holding its breath. Chairs scraped back, notebooks snapped shut, and everybody funneled toward the hall. But the words from that exercise, they were still hangin’ in the air.

I caught Nathan smirking at Lucas as we filed out.

“Bastard,” Nathan said under his breath, just loud enough for his little crew to laugh. “Guess he finally got something right.”

Lucas didn’t bite. He just kept walking, hands shoved in his pockets, jaw tight. But I could see it working on him.

“Don’t listen to him,” Pony whispered beside me, his book clutched like armor.

Easy for him to say. Pony never had to deal with Dan Scott breathing down his neck, never had half a town comparing him to a brother who had the spotlight. Still, he meant it. And maybe that was enough for Lucas to keep his head down instead of swinging.

Peyton brushed past us, fast, curls bouncing, sketchbook hugged to her chest. She didn’t look at anyone, not even Lucas. Not even after that word she’d thrown out, “lonely.”
Two-Bit whistled low behind me.

“Man, this school’s got more drama than a soap opera,” Two-Bit said jokingly.

“Yeah,” I muttered, “and Nathan’s the villain.”

Soda jogged up, clapping Lucas on the shoulder.

“Forget him, man,” Soda said with a smile. “He’s just scared you’ll outshine him.”

Lucas gave a humorless laugh.

“Doesn’t seem like it after last night,” Lucas said.

Nobody had an answer for that.

We pushed into the main hall, kids everywhere, the noise bouncing off lockers. Nathan leaned against one with Tim, still running his mouth, tossing insults like candy. Lucas kept moving, shoulders hunched, trying not to let it stick.

But I saw it. I saw how much it did stick.

And maybe that’s when it hit me, Tree Hill High wasn’t all that different from Tulsa. People still picked sides, still judged you on your name, your past, your scars. The only difference was that here, the fight wasn’t on the street. It was in the gym, in the classroom, in every look and every whispered word.

And just like back home, we weren’t gonna let one of ours face it alone.

The rest of the day dragged, like it always does when somethin’ heavy’s hangin’ over you. By the final bell, I was glad to get out of those halls. The gang and I headed straight to Karen’s Café, our after-school shift.

Karen had us spread out, me and Pony on tables, Soda and Steve helping Keith with deliveries out back, Two-Bit and Dally taking turns at the counter. Darry would swing by later for coffee after his job at the site.

The place was warm, busy, and the smell of coffee and fries hung in the air. For a while, it felt normal. I wiped down tables, listened to Pony swap books with Haley at the counter, and even laughed when Two-Bit tried to sweet-talk an older lady into a bigger tip.

But then Lucas walked in.

He kept his head low, shoulders hunched, like he was trying not to be noticed. Still, you could feel the tension ripple across the café. Some kids from the game were already there, whispering at their booth, shooting him side glances. Lucas didn’t look at them. He just slid into a corner seat, quiet as ever.

Karen’s eyes softened right away. She wiped her hands on her apron and walked over.

“Hey, you hungry?” Karen asked.

Lucas shook his head, but she set a plate down in front of him anyway.

“Eat,” she said, firm but gentle. “First game’s never easy.”

Keith came in a little later, grease still on his shirt from the shop. He clapped Lucas on the back and muttered, “Shake it off, kid. It’s just one game.”

Lucas nodded, but he didn’t really believe it. You could see it in his eyes.

I leaned against the counter, watching all this unfold, and I couldn’t help thinking how much it looked like family, even if Lucas didn’t see it that way yet. Karen fussing, Keith pushing him, Haley hovering close, and all of us scattered around the café, keeping an eye on things.

This wasn’t Tulsa, and it wasn’t the streets. But it was the same fight, just with different rules. And somehow, in this little café with the smell of pie and coffee in the air, I felt like we were right where we needed to be.

By the time the dinner rush cleared, we were all dragging. The last plates were stacked, counters wiped, and floor swept clean.

Karen locked up and headed upstairs, calling down, “Don’t stay too late!”

That’s when Haley nudged Lucas and nodded toward the ladder in the back hall.

“C’mon,” Haley said with a grin. “I want to show them.”

One by one, we climbed up after them. Soda first, grinning like a little kid, then Two-Bit, carrying a bag of chips he’d swiped from the kitchen. Pony and I stuck close together, Dally grumbling about the climb but coming anyway. Steve followed, and finally Darry, who had just stopped in after work.

The roof was bigger than I expected, flat, with an old couch, a couple of milk crates for tables, and string lights tacked up in a messy line. You could see half of Tree Hill from up there, the gym, the streets, the river in the distance.

“Welcome to the spot,” Haley said, smiling proudly.

Soda whistled.

“Now this is a hangout,” Soda said, baffled.

Two-Bit flopped onto the couch like he owned it.

“Needs a fridge for beer and maybe a TV, but I’ll allow it,” Two-Bit joked.

Lucas leaned against the ledge, looking out at the town.

“It’s where we go when things get heavy,” Lucas said.

And that’s when it got quiet. Pony sat down on a crate, hugging his book to his chest.

“That class today… that exercise… it wasn’t just words, was it?” Pony asked nervously.

Nobody answered right away. Then Soda spoke.

“Nah,” Soda said. “It was more than words. It was truth.”

Lucas’s jaw tightened.

“Nathan sure thought it was funny,” Lucas said.

“He’s just scared of you,” Darry said, his voice calm but heavy. “Scared you’ll prove he’s not the golden boy everyone thinks he is.”

Peyton’s word drifted into my head then, lonely. Mine too, survivor. I cleared my throat.

“Sometimes one word says more than a whole speech,” I said quietly. “Maybe that’s why it stung.”

Pony gave me a little look, soft but knowing.

For a while, we just sat there under the string lights, the sounds of Tree Hill humming below. Dally stretched out with a smoke, Soda teased Two-Bit until he laughed himself sick, and Steve traded shop talk with Haley. It felt strange but good, like Tulsa and Tree Hill were folding together, and maybe we weren’t so out of place after all.

Lucas finally broke the silence, voice low but steady.

“Whatever word Nathan throws at me, I’m not gonna let it stick,” Lucas said. “I’ll write my own.”

Nobody argued with that.

And up on that roof, with the town stretched out around us, it felt like we believed him.

After a while, the night air got cooler, and Darry reminded us it was time to pack it in. Soda groaned, Two-Bit whined, and Dally muttered about how he wasn’t tired, but we all knew we couldn’t stay up on that roof forever.

Haley flicked off the string lights as we climbed back down the ladder, one after the other. The café below was dark now, the smell of coffee and pie already fading into memory. Outside, the streets of Tree Hill were quiet, just a few cars rolling by under the streetlamps.

We walked home in a loose line, Pony and me side by side. He was still hugging his book, eyes far away like he was replaying the whole day in his head. Soda was up front with Steve, laughing about something stupid, while Darry trailed behind, keeping an eye on us like always. Two-Bit kept whispering jokes to Dally, who only half-listened, smoke trailing behind him.

It wasn’t like Tulsa. The air was softer here, the houses spaced out, the river’s hum never too far off. Still, some things didn’t change. The way we stuck together, the way we carried the day’s weight in silence when words weren’t enough.

When we finally reached the Curtis place, the porch light was on, warm against the dark. We slipped inside one by one, shoes kicked off, jackets tossed aside. Soda collapsed on the couch, Pony headed straight for his room with me right behind, and Two-Bit grabbed a blanket like he was claiming the floor for the night.

Darry locked up, shut off the light, and his voice carried through the quiet house.

“Get some sleep,” Darry grumbled. “Tomorrow’s another fight.”

I lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to the steady breathing of my friends around me. The words from class, the game, the rooftop, they all swirled in my head. Survivor. That was me.
But maybe here in Tree Hill, with the gang at my side, I didn’t have to survive alone.

The next day dragged the way school days always do. By the time we made it back to the Curtis house for dinner, my head was heavy, and my stomach was louder than Two-Bit’s laugh. Darry had managed to cook up something decent, meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and we were all crowded around the table like always, plates piled high, noise bouncing off the walls.

For a while, it was the usual: Two-Bit trying to steal everyone’s rolls, Pony going on about some book, Dally telling him to shut it, Soda laughing too loud. It felt almost normal.

Then Steve leaned forward, smirking, fork pointing across the table.

“So… you guys will never guess what happened at the shop today,” Steve teased.

Soda jumped in before anyone could answer, grinning like he’d been holding the secret all day.

“Lucas found Peyton’s sketchbook,” Soda said, grinning.

That got everyone’s attention. Pony looked up from his potatoes, eyebrows raised.

“Sketchbook?” Pony asked.

“Yeah,” Steve said, chuckling. “She left it lying around while Keith was working on her car. Lucas picked it up, started flipping through, drawings, quotes, all that broody stuff she does.”

Soda nodded, eyes wide with excitement.

“Man, you should’ve seen her face when she caught him,” Soda said. “She was pissed. Like, next-level mad. Snatched it outta his hands like it was her diary.”

Two-Bit whistled low.

“Well, can you blame her?” Two-Bit said. “Probably had all her little hearts with ‘Nathan Scott Forever’ scribbled in it.”

Dally smirked.

“Or worse,” Dally teased.

“Don’t be crude,” Darry cut in, shaking his head.

I frowned, poking at my food.

“That doesn’t sound like Lucas,” I said. “He wouldn’t just snoop.”

Soda shrugged.

“Maybe not, but he did,” Soda said. “And Peyton, she didn’t take it well.”

Pony leaned back, thoughtful.

“Makes sense,” Pony said. “She seems like the kind of person who puts herself in her art. Somebody looks at it, it’s like they’re looking at her.”

That quieted the table for a second. Pony had a way of cutting to the bone like that.

Steve broke it with a laugh.

“Still, it was worth it to see her bite his head off,” Steve said. “Poor guy looked like he wanted to crawl under the lift.”

Soda grinned.

“Don’t worry, Lucas’ll bounce back,” Soda said. “He’s tougher than he looks.”

I picked at my food some more and listened to the others banter. Lucas and Peyton, yeah, that was already lookin’ like a storm brewing. And from the sound of it, Tree Hill was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Pony’s POV

Mornings at the Curtis house in Tree Hill weren’t all that different from mornings back in Tulsa, still loud, still messy, still everybody fighting for the last piece of toast. The only difference was that the air smelled fresher here, and the walls didn’t feel like they were closing in.

Darry was already up and dressed, his work shirt tucked in, boots laced. He stood at the counter with a mug of coffee, flipping through paperwork from the construction site. He looked more like a man running his own business than somebody punching a clock, but that was Darry, always aiming higher whether he said it or not.

“Eat quickly,” Darry told us without looking up. “You’ve got school, and I’ve got a site meeting.”

Soda was the first to listen, piling eggs on his plate like he hadn’t eaten in days. Steve tried to swipe bacon off his plate, and they started bickering like kids again. Two-Bit poured half a box of cereal into a mixing bowl and drowned it in milk, grinning like he’d discovered treasure.

Johnny sat across from me, quiet but smiling, hands curled around a mug of coffee like it was keeping him steady. Dally was leaning against the counter near Darry, cigarette dangling unlit between his fingers. He kept spinning it, like he was daring Darry to notice.

“You light that in here and you’re out on the porch,” Darry said without even looking up.

Dally smirked but slipped the cigarette back into his pocket.

I ate my toast slowly, watching everyone. It felt different than Tulsa mornings, not better or worse, just… steadier. Like we weren’t waiting for the next fight, the next cop car, the next disaster. For once, the biggest problem in the room was who got the last strip of bacon.

Darry finally set his mug down and grabbed his jacket.

“You boys behave,” Darry warned. “And don’t be late.” His eyes lingered on Soda, then me. “And keep your heads down. Tree Hill might look quiet, but people talk here. More than you think.”
Soda grinned through a mouthful of eggs.

“Don’t worry, Darry,” Soda said with a grin. “We’ll be saints today.”

“Yeah, right,” Darry muttered, but there was the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. He grabbed his keys, gave us one last look, and headed out the door.

The house felt lighter once he was gone, even though none of us said it out loud. Soda nudged me with his elbow.

“Ready for another day of Tree Hill High, little brother?” Soda teased.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready, but I nodded anyway. Because in this town, every day felt like the start of something bigger than we knew.

Tree Hill High always felt too shiny for us. Polished floors, bright lockers, kids with perfect hair laughing in packs. It wasn’t Tulsa, no flick knives, no back-alley rumbles, but the pressure here was different. It was quieter, heavier.

By mid-morning, most of the gang had scattered across the halls. Two-Bit was already sweet-talking a cheerleader, Dally was probably hiding in the parking lot, and Soda and Steve were stuck in shop class. That left Johnny and me drifting toward the library with Lucas.

The library was calmer, rows of books stretching tall and quiet. It was the kind of place I could breathe in, where people didn’t expect you to talk if you didn’t want to. Johnny liked it too, no one breathing down his neck, no noise to drown in.

We found Lucas at a table near the back, a book open in front of him, but not really being read. He kept fiddling with the pages, restless.

That’s when Jake Jagielski walked in. Tall, calm, easy smile, the kind of guy who didn’t need to show off to be noticed. He spotted Lucas and headed over.

“Hey,” Jake said, leaning against the chair. “Rough night?”

Lucas gave a half-smile.

“That obvious?” Lucas asked.

“Don’t sweat it,” Jake said. “Nathan’ll get in your head if you let him. First game jitters.”

Johnny sat down beside me, eyes flicking between them. I could tell he was studying Jake, sizing him up the way he always did with new people.

Jake pulled out a chair.

“Look, man… everyone knows you can play,” Jake said reassuringly. “Don’t let one bad game screw with you. Nathan thrives on that.”

Lucas finally looked up, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.

“Thanks,” Lucas said with a faint smile.

Johnny spoke up then, soft but clear.

“You’re better than him,” Johnny said. “We’ve seen it. Don’t forget that.”

Lucas gave him a nod, and something in Jake’s eyes said he agreed.

Before anyone could say more, Nathan and Tim strolled into the library like they owned the place. Nathan spotted us instantly, that smirk sliding onto his face.
“Well, well,” Nathan drawled. “The bastard, the river rats, and his new fan club.”

The librarian shushed him, but Nathan ignored it, leaning on a shelf.

“Hope you’re ready for practice, Lucas,” Nathan sneered. “Coach might’ve given you a jersey, but that doesn’t mean you belong.”

Lucas stayed still, calm but tight, eyes locked on Nathan.

The librarian hissed again, louder this time.

“Quiet or get out!” The librarian said angrily.

Nathan just smirked and backed toward the door.

“See you on the court, big brother,” Nathan said.

When he was gone, the silence in the library felt heavier than the words he’d left behind.

Jake shook his head.

“Don’t let him rattle you,” Jake said. “He’s good, but he’s not invincible.”

Lucas gave a small nod. But I could see it, the fight between them wasn’t gonna stay in the gym. It was already everywhere.

The rest of the school day went by slowly, but with that same buzz hanging in the halls. Everywhere we went, people whispered about Lucas, his bad game, his spot on the team, Nathan’s grip on the Ravens. You didn’t need to hear the words to know what they were saying.

History dragged, math felt like a blur, and by the time the final bell rang, I was glad to be out of there. Johnny and I waited by the lockers while Two-Bit tried (and failed) to get a cheerleader’s number. Dally finally strolled up, looking like he’d skipped more classes than he sat through.

“C’mon,” I said, shouldering my bag. “We’ll be late for our shift.”

Karen’s Café smelled like coffee and baked bread when we pushed through the door. Karen handed us aprons right away.

“Glad you boys are here,” Karen said, brushing flour off her hands. “It’s been a busy day.”

Two-Bit tied his apron like it was a badge of honor.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Roe,” Two-Bit said with a grin. “I was born for customer service.”

Karen raised a brow.

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Karen said with a wry smile.

Johnny took the tables nearest the window, moving carefully but steadily. I grabbed the counter and a couple of booths. Two-Bit kept hovering around customers like he was the star of the show, and Dally, well, Dally mostly leaned against the counter, but he did carry plates when Karen barked at him.

The place was filled with chatter, kids doing homework, parents grabbing coffee, and workers winding down after their shift. Haley floated around helping Karen, all smiles and energy. Every time Lucas walked in, though, you could feel the difference. People looked, whispered. Some smiled, others didn’t. He didn’t let on, but I knew it wore at him.

Still, he sat at his usual table, book open, Haley slipping into the seat across from him when things slowed.

From behind the counter, I caught bits of their voices, her teasing, his quiet answers. It was the kind of easy talk I’d only ever seen with people who really trusted each other.

Meanwhile, across town, Soda and Steve were elbow-deep in grease at Keith’s Auto Shop. They came back later, still in work shirts, talking about some job they’d done on Peyton’s car.

“She didn’t say much,” Soda told us when they walked in, “but man, she’s tough. Bet Lucas has his work cut out for him.”

Steve smirked.

“Work cut out, or heartbroken,” Steve teased. “Could go either way.”

By the time the dinner crowd thinned and the café quieted, my feet hurt, my apron smelled like fries, and the gang was ready to crash. But even with the weight of the day hanging over us, there was something steady in the routine, serving coffee, swapping jokes, cleaning up together.

Tree Hill wasn’t home yet, but for the first time, it felt like maybe it could be.

Dinner at our house was never quiet, not with all of us crammed around the table. Darry had made spaghetti, cheap, easy, and enough to keep us from fighting over scraps. Two-Bit was already slurping noodles loud enough to drive Dally crazy, Johnny sat tucked between him and me, and Soda was telling some story with his hands flying around so much he nearly knocked over the milk.

Steve waited for Soda to take a breath before grinning widely.

“So, you guys wanna hear what happened at the shop today?” Steve asked.

Soda’s eyes lit up.

“Oh yeah, this one’s good,” Soda said giddily.

Darry gave them both a look.

“As long as it’s not about another busted carburetor, fine,” Darry said with a sigh.

“It ain’t,” Soda said, leaning forward. “It’s about Peyton Sawyer.”

That got everyone’s attention, even Dally, who usually didn’t care unless it involved trouble or a good fight.

Steve jumped in, smirking.

“Peyton brought her car by again, but she had this whole folder of drawings with her,” Steve elaborated. “Lucas thought they were great, said she should submit them to the paper. But she flat-out refused.”

“Yeah,” Soda added, nodding. “Said nobody was gonna see them. Not now, not ever.”

Two-Bit raised his brows, grinning.

“Ooooh, sounds like somebody’s hiding her heart on paper,” Two-Bit teased. “Bet it’s all tragic love songs and pictures of Nathan Scott with halos.”

Johnny frowned.

“Maybe it’s personal,” Johnny sympathized. “Some people don’t want to share that stuff.”

“Exactly,” Soda said, serious for once. “She clammed up so fast you’d think Lucas had asked for her diary.”

Dally chuckled low, shaking his head.

“Girl’s got walls higher than this whole damn town,” Dally chuckled.

I stayed quiet, twirling my fork. Couldn’t help but think of Lucas, how he’d looked at her the other night, like he saw something more. Maybe he did. But getting through to Peyton Sawyer wasn’t gonna be easy.

The conversation drifted after that, back to school and work and who’d left socks on the bathroom floor. We were still bickering when the phone rang. Soda grabbed it first, like always.

“Curtis residence,” Soda said, then grinned. “Hey, Luke.” He listened for a second, then covered the receiver. “It’s Lucas. Wants to know if we’re up for some late-night ball.”

Johnny’s eyes lit up. Two-Bit was already grabbing his jacket. Even Dally smirked.

Darry sighed, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

“We’re not staying out too late,” Darry said.

Soda relayed the message, then hung up.

“River Court,” Soda chirped. “Just him. No crowd.”

I felt a little jolt in my chest. Lucas Scott, standing on that cracked court alone with all of us, it sounded like the kind of night where something important might happen.

We grabbed our jackets and headed for the door.

The River Court was quiet when we got there, lights buzzing overhead, the river moving steadily in the dark. Lucas was already on the blacktop, sweatshirt on, ball in his hands. He wasn’t practicing hard, more like steady, careful, like every shot was a question he was trying to answer.

“About time you showed up,” Lucas said, managing a half-smile when he saw us.

Two-Bit jogged out first, snagging the rebound from Lucas’s miss.

“You called the right crew,” Two-Bit said with a grin. “We got your back.”

Johnny sat on the fence, arms folded, watching. Soda and Steve started warming up on the side, laughing too loudly like they always did. Dally leaned against the pole, cigarette glowing faintly in the dark. And Darry, Darry walked onto the court, arms folded, watching Lucas the same way he watched us. Like he was already figuring out how to push him to be better.

Lucas dribbled, squared up, and fired again. Swish.

“You’re better than you think,” Darry said, voice low but carrying across the court. “Just gotta stop playing against Nathan in your head. Play your game.”

Lucas nodded, but he still looked wound up.

That’s when we heard footsteps on the pavement. Whitey Durham, Tree Hill’s coach, stepped out of the shadows like he’d been there all along, leaning on his cane, eyes sharp even in the dark.

“Son,” Whitey called, “you’re out here punishing yourself like it’ll make a difference.”

Lucas froze, ball under his arm.

“Coach…” Lucas said wearily.

Whitey walked closer, stopping near the free-throw line.

“You think the game’s about your brother?” Whitey asked. “About Dan? You’re wrong. The game’s about heart. Always has been.”

None of us said a word. Even Dally stubbed out his cigarette.

Whitey tapped his cane against the asphalt.

“You want to beat Nathan?” Whitey asked. “Stop trying to be Nathan. Play your game. The one you’ve been playing out here your whole life.”

Lucas’s eyes shifted, like the words hit something deep.

“Now,” Whitey added, turning to leave, “I’ll see you at practice. And maybe this time, you’ll show me who Lucas Scott really is.”

The old coach walked off into the night, leaving just the hum of the lights and the sound of the river.

For a long second, Lucas just stood there, the ball heavy in his hands. Then he bounced it once, twice, and let it fly. Swish.

Soda whooped, Johnny smiled, and even Darry nodded once, satisfied.

And me? I just sat on the fence, watching it all. Something told me Whitey was right, Lucas Scott wasn’t Nathan, and he wasn’t Dan. He was his own fight.

And standing there with him on the River Court, it felt like we were part of it too.

After Whitey’s voice faded into the night and Lucas sank one last clean shot, the court went quiet. None of us said much; we didn’t need to. The river hummed, the lights buzzed overhead, and it felt like something had shifted, like Lucas had found a piece of himself again.

Darry clapped him on the shoulder.

“Get some sleep,” Darry said warmly. “Tomorrow’ll be waiting whether you’re ready or not.”

Lucas gave a small nod.

“Thanks for coming out here,” Lucas said gratefully.

“Anytime,” Soda said, grinning. “You’re stuck with us now.”

We started the walk back together, our footsteps echoing against the pavement. Johnny yawned, leaning against me, and I steadied him without thinking. Two-Bit kept humming some tune under his breath, Dally lit another smoke, and Steve and Soda argued about cars like they always do. Darry walked steadily at the back, watching over us like he couldn’t help it.

The Curtis house was dark when we got there, the porch light the only glow. Inside, the place was warm, familiar in a way Tulsa never was. We scattered fast, Soda throwing himself on the couch, Two-Bit claiming the floor, Steve stretching out in the armchair. Dally took the corner like always, Johnny curled up close by, and Darry shut off the last light.

I lay down in my room, pulling a blanket over me, the sound of the river still in my head. Lucas’s shot, Whitey’s words, the way Darry looked at him like he was one of us, it all stuck.

Tree Hill wasn’t Tulsa. But lying there in the dark, I realized maybe that was the point.

Maybe here, we weren’t just surviving. Maybe we were building something new.

And with that thought, I drifted off.

Morning came too quickly. One second, I was dreaming of the River Court, Whitey’s voice echoing in my head, and the next, Soda was shaking me awake, the smell of coffee already drifting through the house.

The kitchen was its usual chaos. Two-Bit had poured himself another mixing bowl full of cereal, Steve was fighting Soda over the last piece of toast, and Dally leaned back in a chair like he hadn’t slept at all. Johnny sat at the table quietly, buttering a piece of bread, while Darry moved around the kitchen fast, boots already on, work shirt tucked.

“You boys better not be late,” Darry warned, sliding a mug of coffee across to me. “I’ve got a site meeting, so you’re on your own this morning.”

Soda grinned with his mouth full.

“Relax, Darry, we’ve got this,” Soda said with a grin.

Dally smirked.

“That’s what worries him,” Dally snorted.

Darry shot him a look but didn’t bother answering. He finished his coffee in two gulps, grabbed his jacket, and was out the door before I’d even taken a bite.

The house felt lighter after he left, no weight of responsibility pressing down, just us and the morning sunlight slanting through the blinds.

Johnny nudged me as I sat down beside him.

“You ready for today?” Johnny asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, though my stomach twisted a little. Tree Hill High wasn’t exactly Tulsa, but it had its own fights.

Two-Bit slurped milk straight from his bowl and grinned.

“C’mon, let’s go find Lucas and Haley before school,” Two-Bit said. “Maybe if we get there early, we’ll get front-row seats to another episode of the Nathan Scott Show.”

Soda tossed his jacket over his shoulder.

“Yeah, but this time, Lucas won’t be backing down,” Soda teased.

I followed them out the door, backpack slung over my shoulder. The morning air was cool, fresh, and the whole town of Tree Hill felt like it was just waking up.

We were headed toward something, school, drama, fights we hadn’t even seen yet, but for now, it was just us, moving together toward Lucas and Haley, like we always did.

And I couldn’t help but think, whatever was waiting, we’d face it the same way we faced Tulsa. Together.

We spotted them at the corner near Karen’s Café, Lucas walking steadily with his hands shoved in his pockets, Haley right beside him, laughing like she’d just said something daring.

“…no, seriously,” Haley was saying. “It’s your first pet’s name, plus your mother’s maiden name. That’s your porn name.”

Lucas shook his head, trying not to smile.

“That’s ridiculous,” Lucas teased.

“It’s the law,” Haley insisted, grinning widely.

“Alright then,” Lucas said, smirking. “Rocket Roe.”

Johnny, walking next to me, nearly tripped over his own feet laughing. Soda let out a loud bark of laughter, too.

“Rocket Roe!” Two-Bit repeated, doubled over. “Man, that’s perfect. You sound like you should be wearing a velvet cape or something.”

Haley laughed even harder, clutching her stomach.

“See?” Haley teased. “It works.”

“Alright, alright,” Soda jumped in, puffing up. “Mine’s… Rusty Maple.”

Steve howled.

“Oh my god, Soda, you sound like a bad country singer, not a porn star,” Steve chuckled.

Two-Bit slapped the back of Steve’s head.

“C’mon then, hotshot,” Two-Bit teased. “What’s yours?”

Steve smirked.

“Muffin Detroit,” Steve grumbled.

We all lost it. Even Dally cracked a grin, shaking his head.

“You idiots,” Dally said.

Haley’s eyes twinkled as she turned to me and Johnny.

“Okay, your turn,” Haley said.

Johnny shifted awkwardly,

Johnny shifted awkwardly, but he managed.

“Mittens Park,” Johnny mumbled.

The gang burst out laughing again, though I saw Haley smile at him, soft and kind.
I sighed, giving in.

“Buster Maple,” I said.

Soda nearly fell over.

“Oh, that’s good, Pony,” Soda teased. “That’s really good.”

By the time we reached the school gates, we were still laughing, still tossing names back and forth. For a moment, the weight of Nathan, the whispers, the pressure, it was all gone.
It was just us, a dumb game, and the sound of laughter echoing down the street.

And for once, Tree Hill felt like ours too.

After the walk-in, the school day moved fast but heavy, like the whole building was holding its breath. Word about Lucas’s second game since joining the team was everywhere, kids whispering in the halls, glancing at him like he’d done something wild. Nathan strutted around like he owned the place, and Lucas did his best to ignore it, but you could feel the tension following us down every hallway.
Classes blurred together. Johnny stuck by me in English, Two-Bit fell asleep in history, and Dally nearly got sent to the office for mouthing off to a teacher. Soda and Steve kept popping in between periods, already greasy from Keith’s shop, making jokes to lighten the mood. But underneath it all, the game tonight sat in the back of our heads, waiting.

By the time the final bell rang, Tree Hill High was buzzing. Kids headed for the gym in packs, voices bouncing off the lockers. Lucas was quiet, focused.

That night, the gym was packed. The Ravens ran out onto the floor, and even though Lucas wore that jersey, you could see the nerves plain as day. We grabbed a row in the bleachers, me, Johnny, Soda, Steve, Two-Bit, Dally, and even Darry, who’d shown up still in his work clothes, dust on his boots.

The game started rough. Lucas tried to find his footing, but Nathan was in his face every second, making him look small, making the crowd cheer harder for him. Every miss Lucas took stung in the stands. Johnny clenched his fists, Soda shouted encouragement, and Darry’s jaw worked tight like he was playing the game himself.

It didn’t matter how many times Lucas had ruled the River Court; this was different. This was under the lights, with half the town watching, and Nathan waiting for him to stumble.

By the final buzzer, the Ravens had the win, but Lucas had barely touched the ball. The cheers weren’t for him. Nathan walked off the court, smirking, soaking in the glory, while Lucas kept his head down.

We filed out with the rest of the crowd, the noise echoing in my ears. None of us said much. Soda kicked at the pavement, Two-Bit muttered about how unfair it was, and Johnny looked like he’d taken the loss personally.

Dally just shoved his hands in his pockets.

“He’ll get there,” Dally said. “Kid just needs time. But it took guts for him to take his last name off his jersey.”

And Darry? He didn’t say a word. But I could see it in his eyes, he knew Lucas was built for more than what we’d just seen.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

Darry’s POV

The gym was still echoing with cheers when we stepped out into the cool night air. My boots were coated with dust from the site, but I hadn’t wanted to miss the game. Didn’t matter how long the day had been, if Lucas was playing, the boys wanted to be there, and that meant I was too.

The only problem was that the game hadn’t gone well. Lucas had barely touched the ball, and Nathan soaked up all the spotlight. I could see it written across Pony’s face, Johnny’s too; they hated seeing their friend sidelined.

We cut across the lot toward Lucas’s old car, parked under a flickering streetlight. Soda and Steve were talking about how the Ravens ran their plays, Dally had his hands shoved deep in his pockets, and Two-Bit was clowning around, trying to get a laugh out of Johnny.

That’s when we saw her.

A flash of brunette hair in the backseat of Lucas’s car. At first, I thought it was some mistake, maybe a cheerleader cutting through the lot, but then the car door opened and out she popped. Brooke Davis. Smiling like the whole thing was just another Friday night joke.

“Well, hello, boys,” Brooke said, adjusting her skirt like it was nothing. “Looks like you caught me.”

Soda choked on a laugh, Steve’s jaw dropped, and Two-Bit let out a low whistle.

“Now that’s one way to celebrate a Ravens win,” Two-Bit chuckled.

Lucas walked up right then, frozen halfway between us and the car. His face went red fast.
“Brooke, what are you doing?” Lucas asked in embarrassment.

Brooke shrugged, leaning against the car door like she owned it.

“Waiting for you, obviously,” Brooke said with a grin.

The gang erupted, Soda doubled over laughing, Two-Bit clapped Lucas on the shoulder hard enough to nearly knock him over, and even Dally cracked a grin. Pony just stared, wide-eyed, like he couldn’t believe it was happening.

Lucas looked mortified, muttering something about getting her home. Brooke winked at him, then at us, and slid back into the car like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I shook my head, fighting back a smile.

“You boys better not get any ideas,” I groaned. “This is Lucas’s mess to deal with.”

Soda nudged me, grinning ear to ear.

“Yeah, but it’s a fun mess,” Soda teased.

Lucas shot him a glare, but it didn’t stick. Brooke was still in the backseat, humming to herself, waiting like she had all the time in the world.

As we walked off, leaving Lucas to his situation, I couldn’t help thinking, Tree Hill was full of drama, sure. But somehow, I had the feeling we’d only just scratched the surface.

By the time we left Lucas to deal with Brooke and got back to the house, the gang was still buzzing. Soda and Two-Bit couldn’t stop laughing, replaying the whole scene in the lot like it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen.

“Did you see her face when she leaned out the window?” Two-Bit cackled, tossing his jacket over the couch. “Like she was born to cause trouble.”

Soda flopped down beside him, grinning.

“No, no, better was Lucas’s face,” Soda laughed. Kid looked like he’d swallowed his shoelaces.”

Steve was laughing too, though he tried to cover it with a smirk.

“Brooke Davis, huh?” Steve said with a grin. “Guess Lucas knows how to pick them.”

Johnny shook his head from his spot in the armchair.

“You guys shouldn’t make fun,” Johnny grimaced. “He was embarrassed enough already.”

Dally stretched out on the floor, smirking.

“Embarrassed or not, he ain’t getting rid of her anytime soon,” Dally said. “Girls like that, they sink their teeth in.”
Pony had been quiet the whole walk home, but he finally spoke up, his voice soft.

“Lucas doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who wants all that attention,” Pony said softly.

I was leaning against the doorway, watching them all with my arms crossed. They were right, each in their own way. Brooke had made her move clear as day, and Lucas didn’t know what to do with it. Still, Pony was onto something; attention wasn’t what Lucas was chasing.

“Alright,” I said finally, cutting through the chatter. “Enough talk about Lucas and his love life. It’s late, and some of you actually have school tomorrow.”
Two-Bit groaned.

“Aw, come on, Darry,” Two-Bit moaned. “We were just getting to the good part.”

“Bed,” I repeated, firm.

They shuffled off one by one, and everyone went to their respective rooms.

I locked up the house and turned out the lights, the sound of their voices fading into the dark.

As I lay down, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Lucas, standing frozen in front of his car while Brooke Davis grinned at him like she’d already written the next chapter.

Tree Hill had a way of pulling us into the drama whether we wanted it or not. And something told me, after tonight, things were about to get a whole lot messier.

Morning in the Curtis house was always chaos, no matter how early I got up. I’d been awake since before dawn, coffee in one hand and blueprints from the site in the other, trying to get my head straight for the day. But once the rest of the gang started stirring, the quiet was over.

Two-Bit came stumbling into the kitchen first, hair sticking up in every direction, pouring half a box of cereal into a mixing bowl like he hadn’t eaten in a week.

“You planning on leaving some for the rest of us?” I asked, setting down my mug.

“Breakfast of champions, Darry,” Two-Bit said through a mouthful, spilling milk across the table.

Soda darted in next, already in a rush, shoving bread into the toaster while trying to find his work shirt.

“Has anybody seen my jacket?” Soda asked. “The one with Keith’s patch on it?”

“Check the couch,” Steve called from the hall, dragging his feet toward the kitchen. He looked like he’d slept in his clothes. “You left it there last night after story time about Brooke.”

Soda shot him a look.

“Yeah, well, it was worth telling twice,” Soda snapped.

Pony wandered in quietly, hair sticking up, backpack already slung over his shoulder. He sat down next to Johnny, who was nursing a mug of coffee like it was the only thing keeping him alive.
Dally showed up last, smirking, cigarette tucked behind his ear.

“Don’t worry, boss man,” Dally drawled. “We’ll all get to school, promise.”

I crossed my arms, blocking the doorway so none of them could escape without hearing me.

“Listen,” I said. “You all need to move faster. I’ve got a crew waiting for me, and if I’m late because you’re dragging your feet, you’re gonna wish you hadn’t gotten out of bed.”

Two-Bit saluted with his spoon.

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Two-Bit teased.

Soda just laughed, pulling on his jacket. Steve muttered something about needing coffee. Pony kept his head down, but I caught the ghost of a smile when Johnny leaned over and whispered something to him. Even Dally only smirked, hands up like he was innocent.

I shook my head, half exasperated, half proud. They were a handful, every last one of them. But they were mine to look after, whether I’d signed up for it or not.

“Alright,” I said, grabbing my jacket and keys. “School. Now. And try not to stir up too much trouble today.”

Soda grinned.

“No promises,” Soda said mischievously.

I left them spilling out the door in a pack, loud, laughing, already arguing about who’d win in a two-on-two game at the River Court later.

And me? I headed for the truck, another long day at the site waiting. But as much as I tried to keep my head on work, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Tree Hill was pulling us deeper into its current.

And I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, or the start of more trouble than we could handle.

Work in Tree Hill wasn’t all that different from Tulsa. A site was a site, wood to cut, concrete to pour, beams to set straight. But the crew here was quieter, less rough around the edges. Most of them had families to get home to, mortgages to pay. I was the youngest foreman on the site by a good few years, and I felt it every time one of the older guys called me “kid,” even though I’d been running jobs since I was eighteen.

The morning went quickly, checking plans, hauling lumber, and keeping the guys on pace. The Carolina sun beat down harder than I expected for the season, sweat soaking through my shirt before noon. By the time the lunch whistle blew, I was more than ready for a break.

I wiped my hands clean with a rag and drove into town. My truck rattled to a stop outside Karen’s Café, and just seeing the sign made the weight on my shoulders ease a little.

Inside, the place smelled like fresh coffee and something baking in the oven. Pony, Johnny, Two-Bit, and Dally wouldn’t start their shift until after school, so the café was quieter than usual. Karen stood behind the counter, jotting something down in a notebook.

“Afternoon,” I said, sliding onto a stool.

She glanced up, gave me one of those polite but tired smiles.

“Hey, Darry,” Karen greeted me. “Long morning?”

“Same as always,” I said. “Crew’s good, just slow. Heat doesn’t help.”

She poured me a cup of coffee without asking, then leaned on the counter.

“You missed quite the show earlier,” Karen said with a sigh. “Moms of the basketball team had their little meeting.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“That bad?” I asked cautiously.

Karen huffed a laugh, though it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Depends on how you look at it,” Karen said. “It was less of a meeting and more of a pep rally for Nathan and Dan. They made it really clear Lucas wasn’t welcome.”

I frowned, wrapping my hands around the mug.

“That doesn’t seem right,” I said. “Kid earned his spot.”

“Try telling them that,” Karen said while shaking her head. “They act like the Ravens are a private club. Nathan’s their golden boy, and Lucas… well, Lucas is the outsider. They wanted me to know my place.”

There was a tightness in her voice, the kind that comes from years of biting your tongue.

“You stand up to them?” I asked.

Karen gave me a wry smile.

“I always do,” Karen said. “Doesn’t mean it changes anything.”

I took a sip of coffee, thinking about Lucas, about the way he carried himself like he didn’t belong, even when he did. About how Pony and the boys looked at him like he was already one of us.

“Lucas doesn’t need them to change their minds,” I said finally. “He just needs the right people in his corner.”

Karen’s eyes softened.

“I’m glad he has you boys,” Karen said. “He doesn’t let people in easily.”

I nodded, finishing my coffee. I wasn’t sure how much help we could be against a town that seemed stacked against him, but I knew this much: we weren’t walking away.

Karen refilled my cup.

“Lunch special?” Karen asked.

“Yeah,” I said, settling back against the stool. “Might as well.”
As she moved to the grill, I thought about the way this town ran. Dan Scott and his circle of moms could play their games, but if Lucas was gonna fight his way through, he wasn’t gonna be fighting alone.

Not while the Curtis gang was in Tree Hill.

I left Karen’s with a full stomach and a lot on my mind. The air outside carried that damp Carolina heat, the kind that stuck to your skin and made the dust at the site cling harder.

The afternoon on the job was steady. Hammering, measuring, and barking orders when a couple of the guys started dragging their feet. I kept busy enough that the noise in my head dulled, thoughts of Lucas, of Karen standing alone in that room full of basketball moms, of how much weight one town could pile on a single kid.

By the time the whistle blew again, my shirt was streaked with sweat and sawdust. I packed up my tools, double-checked the site, and drove the truck back into town.

Home was quieter than I expected when I walked in. No voices, no music blaring, no Soda trying to out-talk Two-Bit. Just the hum of the fridge and the late sunlight spilling across the living room floor. For a minute, it almost felt peaceful.

I set down my keys, shrugged off my jacket, and went straight to the kitchen. If the boys were gonna come home from school, work, and Karen’s Café dead on their feet, I figured the least I could do was have dinner waiting.

I boiled a pot of water, threw in pasta, browned some ground beef, and dug out a jar of sauce. Simple, but it filled the house with that home smell we’d been missing since Tulsa. I sliced some bread, tossed together a salad, and figured I’d try to balance things out before Two-Bit inhaled half the loaf.

Standing there at the stove, stirring sauce with one hand and wiping down the counter with the other, I thought about Mom. How she used to hum while she cooked, how the whole place felt warm when she was at the heart of it. I wasn’t her, never could be, but maybe if I worked hard enough, the boys could still feel some of that warmth.

By the time the front door banged open and Soda’s voice carried in, loud, laughing, already telling a story, I had the food set out on the table. The noise rushed back into the house all at once: Steve tossing his jacket over the couch, Two-Bit complaining he was starving, Dally muttering something sharp, Pony and Johnny drifting in quieter behind them.

“Dinner’s ready,” I called over the racket.

They filed into the kitchen fast, pulling out chairs, piling plates high. And for a second, watching them dig in, I felt that warmth again, the kind that made all the work, all the noise, all the weight worth carrying.

Tree Hill might be different. But here, in this kitchen, with my boys around the table, it still felt like home.

Dinner didn’t take long to turn noisy. The second plates hit the table, and it was like a switch flipped—everyone talking over each other, forks clinking, laughter bouncing off the walls.

“So get this,” Soda said with his mouth half full. “Nathan tried to show off in practice today, and slipped right on his own sweat. Nearly took Tim down with him.”

Steve snorted.

“Yeah, but the whole gym still cheered like he’d scored thirty points,” Steve said. “Unreal.”

Two-Bit leaned back in his chair, waving his fork like it was a microphone.

“Nathan Scott: hometown hero, king of sweat puddles, soon to be dethroned by one Lucas Scott!” Two-Bit crowed.

That got Pony’s attention. He looked up from his plate, quiet but sharp.

“Lucas didn’t say anything back?” Pony asked.

Johnny shook his head.

“Not a word,” Johnny muttered. “Just kept his head down.”

Dally smirked from the corner of the table.

“Kid’s smart,” Dally said. “Let Nathan run his mouth now. Won’t mean a thing when Lucas shuts him up on the court.”

I watched them all trade stories, weighing the way Lucas’s name kept coming up. It was clear he wasn’t just some kid from school anymore; he’d slipped into their circle without them even noticing. Like he’d been one of ours all along.

Pony cleared his throat.

“Haley said Peyton won’t put her art in the paper,” Pony said. “Said she doesn’t want anyone to see it. But Lucas did it for her, and she got pissed.”

Two-Bit grinned.

“Oh, come on,” Two-Bit said. “That girl’s gotta be dramatic about something. Probably just afraid it’s all stick figures.”

“Don’t be a jerk,” Johnny said, voice steady. “Maybe it means something to her.”

Soda tapped his glass against the table.

“I’ll tell you what it means, Lucas has got it bad,” Soda said.

That sent the table into another round of laughter and jokes, but I kept my eyes on Pony. He wasn’t laughing, just pushing his food around. I wondered if he was seeing more than the others, the way he always did.

When the noise finally started to die down, I leaned back in my chair.

“Alright, enough gossip,” I said. “Finish eating, then get these dishes done.”

Of course, that’s when the phone rang. Soda sprang up to grab it, almost tripping over Steve.

“Curtis house,” Soda said into the receiver. Then his grin faded. “Hey, Luke.” He listened for a moment, his expression tightening.

Soda handed me the phone, serious now.

“It’s Lucas,” Soda said grimly. “You’re gonna want to hear this.”

I took the receiver.

“Yeah?” I asked in confusion.

On the other end, Lucas’s voice was low but edged with anger.

“The team trashed the River Court,” Lucas said angrily. “Spray paint, broken glass, the works. Can you guys come down and help me clean it up?”

My jaw clenched. The River Court wasn’t just a slab of concrete; it was where Lucas belonged, where our boys had started to feel like they belonged, too.

“We’ll be there,” I told him without hesitation. “Sit tight.”

I hung up and turned to the table.

“Grab your jackets,” I said darkly. “We’ve got work to do.”

The room went quiet for a heartbeat, then Soda pushed back his chair, Two-Bit muttering curses under his breath. Pony’s face had gone pale, Johnny’s jaw was set tight, and even Dally looked ready for a fight.

Tree Hill had its way of testing people. And tonight, it was testing all of us.

The River Court looked like a war zone when we pulled up. Spray paint streaked across the blacktop in angry red and white. Broken bottles glittered under the floodlights, glass crunching under my boots when I stepped onto the court. Words scrawled across the walls stung like a punch: RAT, LOSER, RIVER TRASH.

Lucas was already there, broom in hand, shoulders hunched but steady. He didn’t say anything at first, just nodded when he saw us.

Two-Bit let out a low whistle.

“Man, they didn’t hold back,” Two-Bit darkly.

“Yeah,” Steve muttered, kicking aside a crushed soda can. “Nathan’s signature all over this.”

Johnny bent down, picking up shards of glass with his bare hands until I tossed him a rag to use. Pony grabbed another broom, jaw set tight. Soda was already helping Lucas push debris into piles, like he’d been waiting for the chance to do something useful.

Dally lit a cigarette, took one long drag, then flicked it away. He grabbed a garbage bag off me and started picking up bottles.

“Cowards,” Dally muttered. “Whole team’s got numbers and they still fight dirty.”

Lucas didn’t respond, but I caught the way his hands tightened around the broom handle.

We worked in silence for a while, the scrape of brooms and clink of glass filling the night. I could feel the anger in all of them, Soda sweeping too hard, Steve muttering under his breath, Pony’s face pale but determined, Johnny’s movements sharp. Even Two-Bit had lost his usual grin, focused on scrubbing spray paint off the walls.

Finally, I walked over to Lucas, steadying my voice.

They wanted to break this place because it’s yours,” I said darkly. “Don’t let them win by walking away from it.”

He looked up at me, sweat and frustration on his face. For a second, he didn’t answer. Then he nodded once, slow but firm.

“This court’s mine,” Lucas said quietly. “Always has been.”

The rest of the gang stopped what they were doing, just for a moment. That’s all it took, one simple statement. He wasn’t just talking about the River Court. He was talking about himself.

We finished the cleanup together, bag after bag piled by the fence. When the last of the glass was swept and the graffiti mostly scrubbed down, the court looked battered but standing like Lucas himself.

He stood at the center line, basketball under his arm, and I knew right then, Nathan and the Ravens could throw whatever they wanted at him. Lucas Scott wasn’t breaking. Not with us behind him.
I glanced around at the boys, sweaty and tired but still standing, and felt a flicker of something close to pride.

Tree Hill might not know it yet, but there was more than one crew in town willing to fight for their own.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

Two-Bit’s POV

Tree Hill sure knew how to throw a party. Back in Tulsa, a Friday night meant somebody’s backyard, cheap beer, and maybe a busted radio. Here? They built a damn Viking ship just so they could set it on fire. Guess the Ravens really liked their metaphors.

We rolled up together, me, Pony, Johnny, Soda, Steve, Dally, and Darry trailing behind us like the chaperone he swore he wasn’t. The river’s edge was lit up by the blaze already climbing the wood, sparks popping into the night. Music thumped from somebody’s truck speakers, and half the school was there, faces glowing in the firelight.

“Man,” I whistled low. “All this for a basketball team? Next thing you know, they’ll be building pyramids in Nathan Scott’s honor.”

Soda elbowed me, grinning.

“You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first,” Soda said.

I smirked, but the truth was, the whole scene felt heavy. The Ravens were at the center of it all, laughing too loudly, girls clinging to their arms, like kings of Tree Hill. Nathan strutted around like he owned the night. And across the crowd, Lucas stood with Haley, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

We drifted closer to him, making sure he knew we had his back. Pony gave him one of those quiet smiles, Johnny muttered something about the fire being “kinda cool,” and Dally lit up a cigarette like he was daring someone to call him out.

Brooke Davis bounced into view, red cup in hand, already tipsy enough to giggle at anything. She latched onto Lucas like he was the last sane guy in the place, teasing him, dragging him into the current of the crowd. Peyton lingered on the edges, arms crossed, trying to look detached even though her eyes kept flicking toward Lucas when she thought no one noticed.

“Drama, drama, drama,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Tree Hill runs on it.”

“Better than Tulsa cops,” Steve shot back.

The fire roared higher, heat on our faces, cheers from the crowd as the ship’s mast collapsed into the flames. For a second, it felt like all of Tree Hill was celebrating, except the one guy the night was supposed to be about. Lucas stood stiff, watching the fire with that stormy look he got sometimes. The same look I’d seen in Pony after the trial, in Johnny after the fire. Like he wanted to run but had nowhere to go.

Darry clapped a hand on his shoulder, solid and grounding.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Darry muttered. “It’s just noise.”

Lucas nodded, but I wasn’t sure he believed it. Me? I grinned, tossed an arm around his shoulders, and pointed at the burning ship.

“Look at it this way, Luke,” I said. “If Tree Hill ever runs outta Vikings, you’ve got job security.”

That got a small laugh out of him, just enough to break the weight for a second.

But as the fire crackled and the night stretched on, I had the feeling this was only the beginning.

Tree Hill wasn’t just burning a ship tonight. They were lighting a fuse.

And Lucas Scott was standing right on top of it.

By the time the Viking ship had burned down to nothing but glowing embers and smoke, the crowd started breaking up. Kids piled into cars, laughing too loudly, still riding the high of the fire. Nathan strutted off with his crew, Brooke trailed after him with a fresh drink in her hand, and Peyton disappeared into the shadows before anyone could notice.

Lucas hung back, arms crossed, staring into the flames like he was trying to find an answer there. Haley stuck close, steady as ever. We didn’t say much, just made sure he knew we were there too. Sometimes, that’s all a guy needs.

When it was clear the night was winding down, Darry rounded us up like the world’s tallest sheepdog.

“C’mon, boys,” Darry said wearily. “Time to head home.”

The walk back was quieter than usual. No jokes from Soda, no arguments from Steve. Pony and Johnny shuffled side by side, looking worn down. Even Dally kept his mouth shut, smoke curling from the cigarette he’d lit on the way. Me? I couldn’t help sneaking one last look over my shoulder at the riverbank. The fire was still burning, but smaller now. Like Tree Hill itself, loud, hot, dangerous, but not quite out.

We made it back to the house and piled in like we always did. Shoes kicked off, jackets tossed wherever they landed. Soda collapsed on the couch first, already half-asleep. Steve claimed the chair, muttering about his back. Johnny tucked himself in a corner near Dally, who stretched out like he owned the place. Pony slipped into his room without a word, and Darry locked up behind us, flipping off the last light.

I grabbed a blanket and flopped down on the floor. The boards were hard, but I’d slept worse. As the house settled into quiet, I lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to the steady rhythm of everyone’s breathing.

Tree Hill was wild, no doubt about it. Fires, fights, drama around every corner. But with the gang around me, laughing, snoring, dreaming, I figured we’d be just fine.

Maybe even better than fine.

And with that thought, I finally let sleep take me.

Morning hit me like a hammer. My back ached from sleeping on the floor, and the sunlight was stabbing me right in the eyes through the blinds. I sat up, rubbing at my face, and listened, house already alive with the usual chaos.

Soda and Steve were bickering in the kitchen, voices bouncing off the walls. Johnny shuffled past me with a cup of coffee, still half-asleep. Pony had his nose in a book at the table, acting like the noise didn’t exist. Dally leaned against the counter with his usual cigarette, which he wasn’t allowed to light inside, smirking like the chaos amused him.

Darry, of course, was already dressed for work, standing with his arms crossed like a drill sergeant.

“You’re late,” Darry grumbled. “Again.”

“For what?” I yawned, scratching my head. “I don’t even have class till third period.”

“That’s not the point,” Darry said, giving me that look only he could pull off. “Be ready when everyone else is.”

I tossed him a salute.

“Yes, sir,” I said with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t press it. Probably had bigger things on his mind.

The whole town had been buzzing about the bonfire since last night. Couldn’t walk two steps without hearing somebody talk about the “Viking funeral” for the Ravens. Nathan had strutted through like a king, but all I remembered was Lucas standing stiff at the edge of the flames.

Pony closed his book with a sigh.

“It’s like the whole school’s waiting to see if Lucas sinks or swims,” Pony groaned.

“Yeah, well,” I said, grabbing an apple off the counter, “let’s just hope he remembers how to dog paddle.”

That got Soda laughing, which earned me a glare from Pony, but it was worth it.

When we headed out the door, the morning air was cooler than the night before, the smell of smoke from the bonfire still hanging faintly in the distance. We fell into step together, same as always, heading toward Tree Hill High.

Haley and Lucas were already up ahead on the sidewalk, talking low. Lucas looked tired, weighed down, but Haley kept nudging him, like she was trying to pull him back into the light.

Soda elbowed me.

“Place your bets, Two-Bit,” Soda said, grinning. “How long before Nathan comes sniffing around to start trouble?”

I grinned, tossing the apple core into the street.

“Sooner than we’d like, later than Lucas deserves,” I said.

We all laughed a little, but underneath it, we knew the truth: today was just the start of another round.

Tree Hill didn’t give anybody an easy morning.

Tree Hill High was already buzzing when we walked in. Kids leaned against lockers, voices low but sharp, like everyone had gotten the memo: Lucas Scott versus Nathan Scott was the only show in town.

Didn’t take long for the main act to show up. Nathan strutted down the hall with Tim in tow, both of them laughing too loudly. The crowd parted like they were royalty, and sure enough, Nathan’s eyes locked right onto Lucas.

“Well, if it isn’t our newest Raven,” Nathan drawled, clapping Lucas hard on the shoulder. “How’s it feel being the charity case?”

Tim snickered like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

Lucas didn’t rise to it. He just stared at Nathan, jaw tight, and kept walking. Haley was right beside him, muttering something under her breath that made Lucas smirk just enough to keep moving.

Me? I couldn’t resist. I stepped in front of Tim, grinning widely.

“Hey, Timbo,” I called. What’s your porn name again? Pretty sure it was something like Fluffy Magnolia.”

Soda burst out laughing so hard he nearly dropped his books. The whole hall cracked up, and Tim went red as a tomato. Nathan glared, but Lucas had already moved on, Haley tugging him toward class.
That’s the thing about Nathan, he loved the spotlight, but he hated when somebody else got the laugh.

By lunch, the tension hadn’t cooled. Lucas sat with Haley at one of the outside tables, flipping through her notes while she cracked jokes to lighten the mood. Across the quad, Peyton sat alone, sketchbook open, headphones drowning out the world.

I noticed Lucas’s eyes drift her way more than once. He tried to hide it, but it was plain as day. The kind of look you give someone when you want in but don’t know how.

“Poor guy,” I muttered, watching from our table. “He’s caught between a cheerleader who won’t look at him and a firecracker who won’t leave him alone.”

Johnny followed my gaze, frowning.

“Peyton’s not cold,” Johnny murmured. “Just guarded.”

“Yeah,” Dally said, smirking. “Guarded with razor wire.”

The bell rang before the debate could go further. As we filed back inside, I caught Peyton looking up from her sketchbook, her eyes flicking toward Lucas. Just for a second. Then she snapped it shut and walked the other way.

Lucas didn’t see it, but I did.

Tree Hill might’ve been Nathan’s kingdom on the surface, but underneath? Things were shifting. And judging by the looks being traded across hallways and lunch tables, it wasn’t just about basketball anymore.

The afternoon dragged like molasses. Math class was torture. I spent most of it doodling cartoons of Nathan with a crown on his head and “King Jerk” written underneath. Pony kept trying to peek over at what I was doing, grinning like he wanted to laugh but didn’t dare in front of the teacher. Johnny sat quietly, chin propped on his hand, scribbling notes even though I doubted he’d ever need algebra in the real world.

The real fun came in the gym. Ravens practice bled into our period, which meant Nathan strutted around the court while Whitey barked plays. Lucas was there too, jersey clinging to him, focus locked in, but you could see the pressure chewing at him. Every time he got the ball, Nathan doubled down, body-checking him harder than needed, making little digs under his breath.

“C’mon, Scott,” Nathan sneered after Lucas missed a shot. “You’re supposed to be the great River Court legend. Where’s the magic now?”

The rest of the team laughed, but Whitey’s whistle cut through it sharply.

“Cut the crap, Nathan,” Whitely grumbled. “You’re not as funny as you think.”

From the bleachers, we tried to throw Lucas some support. Soda clapped loudly after every shot he made, Steve shouted encouragement, and even Pony hollered a “Nice one!” when Lucas hit a clean jumper.

But I could see it, the way Lucas’s shoulders hunched just a little, the way he kept his head down after each play. He was fighting two games at once: one against Nathan, and one against himself.

By the time the final bell rang, everyone was beat. Kids poured out into the halls, slamming lockers, laughter echoing off the walls. Nathan swaggered past with Tim, tossing one last smirk over his shoulder at Lucas. Peyton breezed by a minute later, sketchbook hugged tight to her chest, not saying a word.

Lucas stood there, backpack slung over one shoulder, looking like the whole world was pressing down. Haley touched his arm, saying something low that made him nod, just barely.

I leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, watching. Tree Hill had its way of turning every day into a show.

After the mess of a school day, Karen’s Café felt like stepping into another world. The bell over the door jingled when we walked in, and the smell of coffee and pie hit me square in the face. Beats the smell of locker rooms, that’s for sure.

Karen was behind the counter, apron already dusted with flour.

“You’re late,” Karen said, not even looking up from the pie she was cutting.

“Fashionably,” I shot back, flashing her my best grin.

She just shook her head and handed me an apron.

“You’re on tables,” Karen said. “Pony, you’re on the counter. Johnny, you’re on the window seats. Dallas…” Karen paused, narrowing her eyes at him, “try not to scare the customers.”

Dally smirked, slipping his apron on like it was a joke.

“No promises, lady,” Dally grumbled.

We got to work. Pony actually took it seriously, wiping down the counter and filling mugs with refills like he’d been doing it his whole life. Johnny moved quietly between tables, dropping off plates, offering shy smiles when someone thanked him. Dally… well, Dally leaned against the counter until Karen snapped at him, then he grabbed a tray and slouched off like she’d ruined his day.

Me? I worked the tables, laying on the charm. Half the customers laughed, some rolled their eyes, but all of them left tips, so I called it a win.

The place stayed steady, kids with textbooks, couples sharing fries, a few Ravens strutting through after practice. Nathan didn’t bother showing, thank God, but his name still floated around the room every few minutes. This town couldn’t go two seconds without talking about the guy.

I caught Pony watching Lucas through the pass window when he came in later, grabbing a coffee and settling into his usual corner with Haley. They bent over homework together, whispering and laughing low. And now and then, Peyton’s name slipped into the conversation, even if Lucas pretended it hadn’t.

“Poor guy’s got it bad,” I muttered as I dropped off a slice of pie at a booth. Johnny overheard and gave me a small smile, the kind that said he agreed but wouldn’t say it out loud.

By the time the dinner crowd picked up, we were moving like a real team. Pony handled the rush smoothly, Johnny kept the tables turning, and Dally, shockingly, actually carried a tray without dropping it. Me? I kept the customers laughing.

Karen gave us all a look when the rush slowed down, one eyebrow arched.

“Not bad,” Karen said with a small smile. “Maybe you’ll last here after all.”

I grinned, tugging at my apron like it was a medal.

“Told you, I was born for this,” I joked.

Karen just rolled her eyes, but I swear I caught the ghost of a smile.

The café closed just as the sky started turning purple. My feet ached, my apron smelled like fries, and Pony looked like he’d collapse if you handed him another coffee pot. Dally tossed his apron onto the counter like it had personally offended him, and Johnny trailed behind us, quiet but with that little smile he got when things felt steady.

We stepped out into the cool night air, and sure enough, two familiar shapes were waiting at the corner, Soda and Steve, both smelling faintly of motor oil.

“Look at this bunch,” Steve called, smirking. “Cafeteria kids and grease monkeys, united at last.”

Soda grinned, clapping Pony on the shoulder.

“How was it?” Soda asked.

“Better than smelling like gas all day,” I cut in before Pony could answer.

“Better than smelling like you,” Steve shot back, earning a round of laughs.

We fell into step together, seven across like always, making our way through the streets of Tree Hill. It was different here, cleaner, quieter, but when we walked like that, shoulder to shoulder, it still felt like Tulsa. Like home.

By the time we got to the Curtis place, the smell of spaghetti sauce hit us before we even stepped inside. Darry was at the stove, sleeves rolled up, dishing out plates like a man on a mission.

“Wash your hands and sit,” Darry ordered without looking up.

We obeyed because when Darry used that tone, there wasn’t another option. A minute later, we were all crammed around the table, forks clattering, voices overlapping.

Soda was the first to bring it up.

“So, word around the shop is the Ravens are making tonight’s game a circus,” Soda said with a smirk.

Steve leaned back in his chair.

“Yeah, and by circus, they mean Nathan’s gonna hog the spotlight and Lucas’ll get scraps,” Steve said.

Pony frowned, twirling his fork.

“That’s not fair,” Pony said. “Lucas deserves the same chance Nathan gets.”

Johnny nodded.

“He’ll prove himself,” Johnny said. “Just needs time.”

Dally snorted.

“Time doesn’t win games,” Dally said. “Guts do. Kid’s gotta stop worrying about Nathan and play his own game.”

I raised my glass of milk like it was a toast.

“Here’s to hoping he doesn’t choke tonight, then,” I said with a smirk.

Darry gave me a look that said enough, and I shut up, for once.

But the table kept buzzing. Peyton’s name slipped into the mix, Soda swore she’d been acting distant, Steve said she was trouble, Pony muttered something about her art, and Johnny defended her right away. Brooke came up too, of course, and the whole table broke into laughter again at the thought of her popping out of Lucas’s backseat.

Through it all, Darry stayed quiet, focused on his plate. But I could tell he was listening, every word sinking in.

When the last bites were eaten and the plates were pushed aside, Darry finally spoke.

“Alright,” Darry said with a sigh. “Let’s move. Game starts soon.”

The room fell into motion fast, jackets grabbed, shoes pulled on, and Soda was still tying his laces on the porch. We spilled out into the night as a pack, heading for the gym where Tree Hill was already buzzing.

And I couldn’t help but grin to myself. This was what we did: stick together, no matter where the night took us.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Steve’s POV

The gym was already buzzing when we pushed through the doors. The bleachers rattled with the stomp of sneakers, cheerleaders were lined up tight with their pom-poms, and the smell of sweat and popcorn clung to the air.

“Whole damn town shows up for this,” I muttered, shoving my hands in my jacket pockets. Back home in Tulsa, basketball wasn’t much more than a neighborhood pick-up game. Here? It was a religion.

We squeezed into a row together, me, Soda, Two-Bit, Pony, Johnny, Dally, and Darry towering at the end like a sentry. Karen sat closer to the court, waving when she spotted us. Haley was already down there, books in her lap, ready to tutor between plays if she had to.

The Ravens stormed out of the locker room first, and the place went wild. Nathan soaked it up, waving at the crowd like a politician. The rest of the team followed, all swagger and muscle.
Then came Lucas. Quieter, head down, but steady. The cheers weren’t as loud for him, but they were there, and we made damn sure to be the loudest.

“Go, Luke!” Soda shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. I whistled sharply, Two-Bit whooped, and Johnny clapped so hard his palms probably stung.

“Don’t screw it up, kid,” Dally muttered with a smirk.

Warm-ups blurred by, the squeak of sneakers and the thud of basketballs echoing through the gym. But I wasn’t watching the drills, I was watching Nathan. Every smirk, every shove, every fake-friendly pat on Lucas’s back. Guy was poison, through and through.

When the whistle finally blew and the game tipped off, the crowd erupted. Nathan scored first, the gym shaking with cheers. Lucas got the ball a play later, weaving through defenders, and the noise shifted. He took the shot, clean, smooth, and it sank.

We jumped to our feet like he’d just won the championship. Soda nearly knocked me over, Two-Bit hollered, and Pony’s grin stretched ear to ear.

Tree Hill might not have believed in Lucas yet. But we did. And tonight, that had to count for something.

The Ravens pulled out the win, but it was ugly. Nathan hogged the ball more times than I could count, barking at his teammates like a general, and Lucas fought to find his rhythm. He made some damn good shots, but you could tell the crowd wasn’t ready to give him the crown yet.

Didn’t matter. We still stood up and cheered when the buzzer hit. The Ravens might’ve won, but for us, it was about Lucas.

We spilled out of the gym with the rest of the town, voices bouncing off the parking lot, kids already talking about the after-party. Soda caught wind of it first.

“Nathan’s parents’ place,” Soda said, smirking. “Big house on the beach. Whole team’s going.”

Darry raised an eyebrow.

“And we’re going because…?” Darry asked wearily.

“Because everyone’s going,” I shot back. “Besides, you really think we’re gonna sit home while Tree Hill throws its first big party of the season?”

Darry gave me that look, the one halfway between big brother and dad, but even he knew he’d lost before the argument started.

So, the next thing I knew, we were walking up the beach, waves crashing in the dark, music thumping from a house lit up like Christmas. Nathan’s parents’ beach place was massive, with big windows, wraparound deck, and the kind of house you see in magazines. And it was packed. Kids spilled out onto the sand, red cups in hand, laughter and shouts carried by the wind.

Inside, it was even crazier. Music blasting, couches piled with jackets, cheerleaders dancing in the living room, athletes holding court in every corner. Nathan was front and center, soaking up the spotlight with Tim glued to his side.

We stuck together near the door at first, taking it all in. Soda grinned like a kid on Christmas, already eyeing the kitchen where the food was. Two-Bit was in his element, cracking jokes loud enough to get laughs from strangers. Pony and Johnny hung back, wide-eyed, not quite sure what to do with all the noise. Dally leaned against the wall, cigarette tucked behind his ear, daring anyone to start something.

And Darry? He stood tall, scanning the room like he was making sure no one got swallowed whole. For once, though, he didn’t pull us out. Maybe even he knew this was one of those nights that was gonna matter, for better or worse.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, smirking.

“Welcome to Tree Hill, boys,” I muttered. “Guess we’re officially in the show now.”

The longer we stayed, the wilder it got. Music shook the walls, the place smelled like beer and salt air, and the Ravens strutted around like they’d already won the state.

Nathan had Peyton under his arm when we first spotted him, but she looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. She peeled away as soon as she could, sliding past the crowd toward the back deck. Nathan didn’t even notice; he was too busy holding court with Tim, laughing loud enough to rattle the windows.

Lucas, on the other hand, looked completely out of place. He hovered near the edge of the living room, trying not to get swallowed by the sea of bodies. Haley stuck close to him, whispering in his ear now and then like she was trying to keep him steady. Brooke was the first to spot them, of course.

“Luuuuucas!” Brooke called, weaving through the crowd with a cup in her hand, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You came!”

Before he could answer, she draped herself on his arm and started dragging him deeper into the party. Haley gave him a look, half warning and half amused, and stayed behind with us.

Two-Bit leaned in, grinning.

“That Brooke girl’s gonna eat him alive,” Two-Bit said with a chuckle.

“Better her than Nathan,” I muttered.

Johnny shifted awkwardly beside me, watching Lucas get pulled away.

“He doesn’t look comfortable,” Johnny said nervously.

“Yeah, well, welcome to high school politics,” Dally said, lighting up a smoke even though Darry shot him a glare.

It didn’t take long before drama started bubbling. Nathan noticed Brooke with Lucas and stormed over, his grin all teeth but no warmth.

“Careful, bro,” Nathan said loud enough for half the party to hear. “You don’t want to break a sweat chasing after my leftovers.”

The room went quiet for a beat. Lucas froze, Brooke rolled her eyes, and Peyton, who’d just come back inside, looked like she wanted to sink through the floor.

I felt Soda tense beside me, ready to jump in, but Darry’s hand on his shoulder kept him grounded. This wasn’t our fight. Not yet.

Lucas finally spoke, voice steady.

“Maybe you should worry less about me, Nathan, and more about your game,” Lucas said darkly.

That got a few laughs from the crowd, and Nathan’s smirk cracked just enough to show the anger underneath. He shoved past Lucas, grabbing another drink, acting like he didn’t care. But we all knew he did.

The party moved on, louder than ever, but the tension lingered in the air. Brooke kept orbiting Lucas, Peyton stayed distant, and Nathan watched it all like a hawk.
I leaned back against the wall, sipping from a soda cup someone had shoved into my hand, and muttered to Johnny.

“Tree Hill’s nothing but bonfires and battle lines,” I muttered.

Johnny nodded slowly, eyes on Lucas.

“And we’re standing right in the middle of it,” Johnny said nervously.

I thought I’d seen the worst of Tree Hill drama tonight: Brooke hanging all over Lucas, Peyton looking like her heart was stuck in traffic, Nathan trying to bite through his own grin. But then someone yelled, “Hey, check this out!” and the TV in the living room flickered to life.

The music dipped just enough for the whole party to turn its head.

On the screen was an old home video, grainy and shaky, but clear enough. A teenage Dan Scott, hair slicked back, tux sharp, grinning like the king of the world. And right next to him, Karen. Young, nervous, but smiling like she meant it.

The room went dead silent, just the sound of the tape warbling. Then came the laughter. Snickers, whispers, a few gasps. Someone shouted, “That’s Lucas’s mom!” and the ripple of gossip hit the crowd like a wave.

My stomach twisted. This wasn’t just drama; it was cruel. Lucas froze where he stood, every muscle stiff, his jaw locked. Haley put a hand on his arm, whispering something low, but he didn’t move.
Brooke blinked at the screen, half-drunk confusion on her face. Peyton looked stricken, like the ground had just been pulled out from under her. And Nathan? Nathan was laughing, not even bothering to hide it.

“That’s rich,” Nathan crowed. “Guess embarrassing runs in the family.”

I felt Soda surge forward, fists clenching, and it took everything in Darry to hold him back. Johnny’s face had gone pale, Dally muttered curses under his breath, and even Pony looked like he might throw a punch.

Lucas didn’t say a word. He just turned, pushed through the crowd, and walked straight out the front door. Haley shot us a desperate look before following him.
The laughter lingered behind us, ugly and sharp, as we spilled out after them.

I glanced back at the screen one last time, the frozen image of Karen smiling beside Dan, and felt anger burning in my chest.

Tree Hill wasn’t just cruel. It liked to keep its receipts.
And tonight, it cashed one in at Lucas’s expense.

The night air hit hard after the suffocating heat of that house. Music still pounded inside, laughter spilling through the windows, but out here it was just the ocean and the sting of what we’d all just seen.

Lucas was already halfway down the beach, shoulders tight, fists jammed into his pockets. Haley hustled after him, her voice low, trying to cut through the noise in his head.
“Luke, don’t let them…” Haley called after him, desperate.

Lucas shook her off, kept walking.

We caught up quickly, me, Soda, Pony, Johnny, Dally, Two-Bit, and Darry towering in the back. Nobody spoke at first. What could we say?

Finally, Soda jogged up beside him.

“Luke, man, that was low,” Soda said. “They had no right…”

Lucas stopped dead, turning on him. His eyes were sharp, raw.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lucas said, dejected. “This is what they do. Nathan, his crew, all of them…it’s their world. I don’t belong in it.”

“Like hell you don’t,” I said, louder than I meant to. Everyone turned to look at me, but I didn’t care. “You belong more than any of those clowns. You’ve earned it. They’re just scared because you won’t play their game.”

Johnny nodded, stepping closer.

“You’ve got people on your side, Lucas,” Johnny murmured. “Us, Haley, the River Court. That counts for something.”

Lucas looked away, jaw working, like he was trying to swallow the whole night and couldn’t choke it down. Haley touched his arm again, softer this time.

“You’re stronger than him, Luke,” Nathan said softly. “Stronger than Nathan, stronger than all of them. Don’t forget that.”

Dally flicked his cigarette into the sand, smoke curling in the dark.

“Kid, if you let them chase you off, you’re giving them exactly what they want,” Dally drawled. “And nothing ticks off a punk like Nathan more than you standing your ground.”

For a moment, none of us breathed. Then Lucas sighed, shoulders loosening just a fraction. He didn’t smile, didn’t joke, didn’t brush it off like nothing, but he didn’t walk away, either.
Instead, he just nodded once.

“Thanks,” Lucas murmured.

The waves crashed behind us, the party still roaring up at the house. But out here on the sand, it felt different. Quieter. Stronger.

Tree Hill could laugh, could throw punches, could dig up old ghosts on a TV screen. But it couldn’t touch this, Lucas standing with his people, and us making damn sure he knew it.

We didn’t hang around the beach house after that. Lucas and Haley split off toward Karen’s, and Darry herded the rest of us down the street like he was done babysitting other people’s kids. No one complained; we were just as glad to be putting the night behind us.

The walk was quiet. Pony kept glancing at Johnny like he was trying to read his thoughts. Two-Bit hummed low under his breath, but even he didn’t crack a joke. Soda shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets, kicking at pebbles like he was still replaying the video in his head.

Me? I just wanted to punch something. Seeing Lucas get humiliated like that, seeing Nathan laugh, made my blood boil. Tree Hill was supposed to be a fresh start for us, but nights like this reminded me it had its own brand of poison.

We cut down Main, the glow of Karen’s Café spilling out onto the sidewalk as we passed. That’s when we saw her, Nathan’s mom. Deb Scott. She was inside, standing at the counter with Karen, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders, expression soft but worn.

Darry slowed us, nodding toward the window.

“That's her?” Darry asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Deb.”

Karen smiled at something Deb said, then reached over to top off her coffee. From the outside looking in, it could’ve been any two moms catching up late, sharing the kind of conversation that patched cracks you didn’t see in daylight.

It struck me then, Tree Hill wasn’t just split between Nathan and Lucas. It was split in every direction. Parents, kids, old grudges, old flames. Everyone is tied up in the same knots, pulling at the same strings.

Soda let out a low whistle.

“Wonder if she knows what her golden boy was laughing at tonight,” Soda said.

Darry gave him a sharp look, and Soda shut up quick. We moved on, leaving the warm glow of the café behind us.

By the time we reached the Curtis place, the house was dark and still. Darry unlocked the door, and we shuffled inside, shoes squeaking faintly on the floorboards. Everyone spread out fast, Pony and Johnny straight to their rooms, Two-Bit crashing on the couch, Soda flopping into a chair, Dally disappearing without a word.

I lingered a second longer, staring out the window at the quiet street.

Tree Hill was messy. More tangled than Tulsa ever was. But maybe, just maybe, this was the kind of mess we were meant to get caught in.

I pulled the curtain shut and finally let myself drop into bed. Tomorrow was coming fast. And in Tree Hill, tomorrow always meant more trouble.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

Dally’s POV

Morning came too damn quick. My head wasn’t pounding like some of the idiots at that beach house last night, but the memory of Dan Scott’s smug face on that old prom video was enough to sour my stomach. Tree Hill sure knew how to drag skeletons out of closets and parade ‘em around.

I shoved on my boots, grabbed my jacket, and hollered down the hall.

“Move it, slowpokes!” I shouted. “School ain’t gonna wait for you!”

Two-Bit groaned from the couch like he’d been run over. Pony and Johnny shuffled out of their room, hair sticking up every which way. Soda was already scarfing toast in the kitchen, Steve stealing bites off his plate, and Darry was standing there with his arms crossed, trying to play drill sergeant.

“You’re all late,” Darry barked, even though we weren’t. He just liked reminding us who was boss.

I snagged an apple off the counter and smirked.

“Relax, Superman,” I grumbled. “Nobody’s dying if we’re two minutes behind.”

Darry gave me that look, the one that said he’d deck me if he didn’t think it’d set a bad example. Pony hid a laugh behind his juice glass.

By the time we hit the street, the sun was barely up. The air was sharp, cool, the kind that woke you up whether you liked it or not. Lucas and Haley were up ahead, talking low, probably about that mess last night. Lucas looked like he’d swallowed nails, shoulders tight, eyes forward.

“Bet the golden boy’s already plotting his next move,” I muttered to Johnny, jerking my chin toward Lucas.

Johnny just frowned.

“He’s got it rough, Dal,” Johnny murmured.

“Yeah, well,” I said, biting into the apple. “Rough builds character. “Or it breaks you. Guess we’ll see which way it goes for him.”

As we caught up, Haley smiled like nothing could touch her, chattering about homework or coffee or something I wasn’t listening to. Lucas gave us a nod, but there was steel in his eyes. The kind of steel I knew from back alleys and busted fights.

Nathan Scott thought he ruled this town. But I had a feeling Lucas was about to prove otherwise.

And hell, if I wasn’t looking forward to watching that play out.

School was buzzing like a hornet’s nest the second we walked in. Nathan’s little kingdom didn’t waste any time twisting the knife after last night.

He cornered Lucas at his locker first thing, Tim trailing behind like a lost puppy.

“Hey, man,” Nathan smirked, loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear. “Saw your mom’s greatest hits last night. Classic.”

The crowd chuckled, vultures circling. Lucas’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t bite. He slammed his locker shut and walked past like Nathan wasn’t even worth his time. Smart move. But I knew the look in his eyes, the same one I’d seen in alleys when guys were two seconds away from swinging.

“Coward,” Nathan muttered after him, but it sounded more like frustration than victory.

Peyton wasn’t much better. She breezed past Lucas without so much as a nod, sketchbook tucked under her arm, that wall around her tighter than ever. I caught her later in the library when Pony dragged me in, said he wanted quiet, which, shocker, was impossible with Two-Bit and me in tow.

She sat at a corner table, flipping through her sketches, and the editor from the school paper was trying to talk her into submitting something. Peyton shut him down cold.

“They’re mine,” Peyton snapped. “Not for anyone else.”

The guy slunk off, and Lucas, sitting a few tables away, looked like someone had socked him in the gut.

“She’s scared,” Pony whispered.

I just rolled my eyes. Scared or not, she had a way of cutting deep without saying much.

Practice that afternoon was just as messy. We stuck around the gym after classes ended, leaning against the bleachers, watching Whitey blow his whistle until it echoed through our skulls. Nathan hogged the ball like always, showboating, but Whitey wasn’t impressed.

“Scott!” Whitey barked. Both of them turned, Nathan and Lucas. “The one with the ego! Pass the damn ball or sit your ass down!”

We all burst out laughing from the sidelines, and Nathan’s face turned red enough to match his jersey. Lucas smirked for the first time all day, and it was worth every second.

When practice wrapped, the team scattered, Nathan sulking off with Tim, Lucas hanging back with Haley. Darry was already at work by then, so it was up to us to split off where we belonged.
Johnny, Two-Bit, Pony, and I headed down Main toward Karen’s Café. The bell jingled as we pushed inside, Karen already rushing around with trays.

“Aprons, boys,” Karen called without looking up.

Johnny grabbed his quietly, Pony tied his like he’d been doing it for years, Two-Bit winked at a table of girls before even starting, and I slouched behind the counter until Karen gave me that mom-look that made me move.

Meanwhile, Soda and Steve headed the other way, toward Keith’s shop. Last I saw, Soda was already joking about test-driving a car, and Steve was threatening to lock him in the trunk if he tried. Typical.

“Here we go again,” I muttered as I tugged my apron over my head and grabbed a tray.

Tree Hill had its drama, sure. But at least for the next few hours, it was just burgers, fries, and coffee refills.

And maybe, just maybe, a little peace.

The dinner rush hadn’t hit yet, so the café was in that quiet lull, a couple of students cramming for tests, one guy nursing his third cup of coffee like it was medicine. Johnny was wiping down the window seats, Pony was at the counter trying to look busy with a stack of menus, and Two-Bit was leaning against the soda machine like he was waiting for the world to entertain him.

I was halfway through balancing a tray of burgers when headlights flashed across the front windows, too fast, too bright. Then the squeal of tires tore through the quiet, followed by a horn blaring.

Two-Bit’s head snapped up.

“What the hell was that?” Two-Bit asked.

We all turned toward the big windows. Peyton Sawyer’s car flew past the café, music blasting so loud we could hear it over the glass. She blew through the intersection like stoplights were just decoration, swerving around a delivery truck that had to slam its brakes.

“Jesus,” I muttered, setting the tray down hard on the counter.

Karen, who’d just come out from the kitchen, froze in the doorway.

“Was that Peyton?” Karen asked in concern.

“Yeah,” Pony said quietly, eyes wide.

The customers all started murmuring, but I couldn’t look away from the street where her taillights disappeared into the dark. I’d seen plenty of recklessness before; hell, I’d been reckless plenty of times, but something about the way she gunned it, like she didn’t care if the world ended right there, hit different.

Johnny’s voice was low, almost worried.

“She’s gonna kill herself driving like that,” Johnny murmured.

Karen pressed her lips together, worry etched all over her face.

“Peyton’s… she’s struggling,” Karen said. “Just keep working, boys.”

Easier said than done. The rest of the shift, I kept thinking about those headlights cutting across the glass, the sound of her tires screaming against the pavement.

Tree Hill had its messes, sure. But some messes looked like they were trying to swallow themselves whole.

And Peyton Sawyer looked like one of ‘em.

The buzz from Peyton’s joyride was still hanging in the air when the bell over the door jingled. Lucas walked in, quiet as ever, but you could tell he was wound tight. He slid onto one of the stools at the counter, a rolled-up magazine in his hand. Pony perked up right away, wiping his hands on a rag before stepping closer.

“What’s that?” Pony asked.

Lucas flattened the magazine on the counter, and there it was, a comic strip. Peyton’s. The traffic light one.

The drawing was simple, but the meaning wasn’t. A stoplight, colors lit, words underneath: “People always leave.”

Johnny leaned over my shoulder to get a look, frowning. Two-Bit whistled low.

“Well, damn,” Two-Bit muttered. “Girl’s got a way of saying a whole lot without saying much.”

Lucas just stared at it, his jaw tightening.

“Yeah,” Lucas said finally. “She does.”

I didn’t have to ask who “she” was.

Before the silence could settle too heavily, Haley breezed in, her energy filling the place like it always did. She spotted Lucas right away and grinned, sliding onto the stool beside him.

“What are we brooding about today?” Haley teased, eyeing the magazine.

Lucas flipped it toward her without a word. Haley scanned the strip, her smile softening.

“Wow,” Haley said. “That’s… pretty spot on.” She glanced at him, her voice gentler now. “You gonna talk to her?”

Lucas shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What’s the point?” Lucas moaned. “She’s got walls ten feet high. And Nathan’s still…” He trailed off, leaving the name like a curse hanging in the air.

Haley tilted her head.

“That doesn’t mean she wants to be there,” Haley said.

The kid was stuck, no doubt about it. Torn between a girl who kept running red lights and a town that seemed to be daring him to crash.

Karen popped out from the back then, balancing a tray of coffee mugs.

“Order something or get out of the way, boys,” Karen said with a smile, though her eyes lingered on Lucas a little longer than the rest of us.

Lucas managed a small grin, sliding the magazine shut. Haley nudged him, and for the first time all night, he didn’t look quite so weighed down.

I leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching the two of them. Lucas had plenty of people ready to tear him down. Lucky for him, he had Haley. And, whether he knew it or not, he had us, too.
Tree Hill could keep throwing stoplights in his way. The kid just had to decide if he was gonna stop or keep on driving.

By the time Karen flipped the café sign to Closed, I was more than ready to ditch the apron. Pony stacked menus neatly as a soldier, Johnny wiped down the counter one last time, and Two-Bit nearly dropped a tray trying to show off to nobody in particular. Me? I tossed my apron on the hook.

“That’s enough babysitting, Tree Hill for one night,” I muttered.

We stepped out into the cool air, streetlamps buzzing overhead. Down the block, we spotted Soda and Steve cutting out from Keith’s shop, both of them looking like they’d crawled through an engine.

“Smell you before we see you,” I called.

Steve shot me a glare, grease smudged on his cheek.

“Better than smelling like fryer grease, Dally,” Steve shot back.

Soda just grinned.

“At least Karen didn’t fire you,” Soda teased.

“Yet,” I said with a smirk.

We fell into step together, seven across, the day finally catching up to all of us. By the time we reached the house, the windows glowed warm, and the smell of dinner hit us before we even walked inside.
Darry was at the stove, sleeves rolled, ladling out stew like a pro.

“Wash up and sit down,” Darry ordered.

Nobody argued. We crowded the table, bowls steaming, bread piled high. For a few minutes, it was quiet, just the sound of spoons and chewing. Then Soda, of course, broke it.

“So, word is Peyton’s drawings finally hit the press,” Soda said, tearing bread in half.

Pony perked up.

“Lucas showed us one,” Pony said. “The stoplight.”

Two-Bit leaned back, waving his spoon like it was a pointer.

“And ladies and gentlemen, the award for Most Dramatic Comic goes to Miss Sawyer,” Two-Bit said with a smirk. “Ten bucks says she’s running those red lights still.”

Johnny frowned.

“It’s not funny,” Johnny chastised. “She’s hurting.”

“Relax, Johnnycake,” I said, though I agreed with him more than I’d admit. “Girl’s a mess. Lucas’ll either save her or crash right alongside her.”

That set Soda and Steve off, arguing over whether Lucas had a chance at all, with Pony jumping in on Lucas’s side. Darry didn’t say much, just listened while he kept us fed, though I caught him hiding a smile once or twice.

Dinner wound down, bowls empty, bread basket wiped clean. Pony groaned about homework, Johnny pulled out a notebook, and even Two-Bit pretended to study while cracking jokes about Shakespeare. Soda and Steve spread out their shop manuals, comparing notes, while Darry settled at the sink, arms crossed, watching over us like he always did.

Eventually, the noise softened, one by one, everyone packing it in. Pony disappeared to his and Soda’s room, Johnny right behind him. I dragged Two-Bit to his room with Steve before he fell asleep on the couch. Darry woke up Soda and Steve, who had crashed into the table with their homework.

I stretched out, staring at the ceiling. Tree Hill was chaos, bonfires, beach parties, stoplights, and fights. But in this house, it was steady.

And steady was good enough to get me to sleep.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13
Johnny’s POV

The morning light in Tree Hill had a way of sneaking through every crack in the blinds. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and shuffled into the kitchen where Darry was already dressed for work, tie straight, lunch packed, that “responsible adult” look nailed down like always.

“Eat something before you go,” Darry told us, sliding toast onto a plate.

But we were already pulling on jackets, voices overlapping. The plan was simple: meet Lucas at the café before school. Darry just shook his head, muttering something about “kids and their priorities,” and headed out toward the construction site.

The rest of us, me, Pony, Soda, Steve, Two-Bit, and Dally, trailed down Main Street, the air cool against our faces. Karen’s Café came into view, warm light spilling out, and there was Lucas at the counter, a newspaper spread open in front of him.

We slid into the booth beside him, the smell of coffee and muffins wrapping around us. Soda snatched a section of the paper before Lucas could protest, grinning.

“What’s the headline today, huh?” Soda asked.

Lucas didn’t grin back. He just tapped the article stretched across the page. Father-Son Basketball Game: Nathan Scott to Play Alongside His Father, Dan. Lucas Scott Also to Compete.

Two-Bit let out a low whistle.

“Well, ain’t that a punch in the gut?” Two-Bit said with a smirk.

Steve shook his head, flipping the page like it’d change the words.

“Tree Hill’s already picking sides, and they’re not subtle about it,” Steve said with a grumble.

Lucas sat there, stiff, eyes locked on the print.

“It’s fine,” Lucas said with a sigh. “Let them write what they want.”

Haley breezed in just then, sliding into the booth with that smile that could knock the edge off any moment.

“Ignore it, Luke,” Haley said cheerily. “People will see what’s real once you’re on the court.”

Dally snorted, leaning back against the booth.

“Yeah, and in the meantime, they’ll eat this garbage up,” Dally said. “Papers like this don’t care about real. They care about drama.”

Pony nudged me under the table, like he could tell I wanted to say something. And maybe he was right. I hated the way Lucas’s jaw stayed locked, how he acted like it didn’t bother him when anyone could see it did.

Karen passed by with a pot of coffee, refilling mugs without asking.

“Don’t let them get to you, Lucas,” Karen said. “The game will speak louder than any article.”

Lucas finally looked up, and there was something in his eyes, not anger, not fear, but a kind of resolve. Like he was already planning to answer every word of that article on the court.

I sipped my coffee and sat back, watching him. If the town wanted a show, they were gonna get one.

And I had a feeling Lucas Scott was just getting started.

By the time we left the café, Lucas still had that folded-up newspaper stuffed in his bag like it was a weight he couldn’t shake. The walk to Tree Hill High wasn’t long, but the closer we got, the louder the buzz around us seemed to grow. Kids were already talking about the father-son game, voices bouncing off the brick walls and echoing down the hallways.

Nathan’s name was everywhere, like he owned the air. Dan’s too. And Lucas? He was the punchline, the “other Scott.”

The gang fanned out once we got inside. Pony stuck close to me, Soda ruffled his hair before heading toward his own locker, and Two-Bit made a beeline for the vending machines like it was his morning ritual.

Lucas was at his locker when the whispers started picking up. A couple of guys in jerseys smirked, tossing remarks about how the paper finally “got it right,” how Lucas was just the charity case in the family drama. Dally stiffened at that, fists curling, but I touched his arm.

“Not here,” I said. “Not now.”

He growled but didn’t move closer, which I counted as a win.

Lucas didn’t bite either. He just swapped books and slammed the locker shut with enough force to make the row rattle. He walked off like he couldn’t hear any of it, but his shoulders were tight, every muscle wound up.
And then, Haley.

She came bouncing down the hall, a smile stretched wide across her face, books hugged to her chest. She passed Lucas with a quick hello before darting toward a side door, practically glowing.

Two-Bit leaned around the corner to watch.

“Well, somebody’s on cloud nine,” Two-Bit said with a smirk.

Pony frowned.

“Where’s she going?” Pony asked.

“Tutoring center,” Soda said, like he already knew.

But then we saw Nathan heading in the same direction, cocky grin plastered on his face. And it clicked.

Haley. Tutoring Nathan.

My stomach twisted. Not because it was wrong exactly, but because it was dangerous. Nathan Scott didn’t do anything without an angle. And Haley… she was too good-hearted, too trusting.

Lucas saw it too. His jaw clenched, and for the first time that day, his mask cracked.

“She’s tutoring him,” Pony whispered.

“Looks like it,” I muttered, watching Nathan push open the door and slip inside after Haley.

Lucas just stood there a moment, staring like the ground had shifted under his feet. Then he turned and walked off, faster this time, not saying a word.

And I couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever line had been drawn between the Scotts just got a whole lot deeper.

School dragged, but not in that usual way. It dragged because the gossip never stopped, every corner buzzing like bees in a jar. By the third period, everyone knew Haley was tutoring Nathan. By lunch, everyone had a theory on why.

Lucas kept his head down, but I could tell it was eating at him. Every time Nathan walked by with that smug grin, Lucas’s eyes went hard, even if he didn’t say anything.

But that wasn’t the only storm brewing. Word spread like wildfire that there’d been an explosion at cheer practice. Peyton and Brooke, the Tree Hill High golden girls, the ones everyone thought were glued together at the hip, blew up at each other.

We didn’t see it happen, but we sure heard about it.

“Brooke said she was phoning it in,” a sophomore whispered behind me in English.

“No, Peyton went off first, she said she was sick of the fake routine,” her friend argued.

By the time the final bell rang, the story had snowballed: Peyton had quit the cheer squad, Brooke was furious, and the whole dynamic of the school had been flipped.

Two-Bit caught wind of it at his locker and nearly fell over laughing.

“Cheer queens throwing down?” Two-Bit joked. “Man, Tree Hill High’s better than TV.”

Soda just shook his head, but Pony looked worried.

“Peyton’s not okay,” Pony murmured. “You don’t just walk away from something like that unless you’re falling apart.”

I knew he was right. The girl blasting music and running stoplights wasn’t doing it for fun. She was unraveling. And now the cracks were showing in front of everybody.

By the end of the day, Lucas was more wound up than ever. First, the article, then Haley with Nathan, and now Peyton burning bridges. He didn’t say much, but I could feel the storm brewing in him.
And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that storms don’t just disappear. They break.

The last bell rang, and the hallways exploded like always, doors slamming, voices bouncing, sneakers squeaking against tile. But the gossip stuck with us even as we split ways. Peyton quitting the squad was the headline of the day, and you couldn’t walk ten feet without hearing it.

Me Pony, Dally, and Two-Bit headed straight for Karen’s Café. The bell over the door jingled when we came in, and Karen was already juggling mugs of coffee and an order pad. She smiled at us anyway.

“Aprons, boys,” Karen said. “You know the drill.”

Two-Bit groaned like she’d sentenced him to hard labor, but he slipped his on. Pony tied his neatly, Dally slouched into his like it was an insult, and I just tried to blend in behind the counter.

It wasn’t packed, but steady. A couple of moms with kids, some students with books spread across tables, and a few regulars who seemed like part of the furniture.

Pony leaned over to me while we cleaned off a table.

“You think Peyton’s really done with cheer?” Pony asked nervously.

I shrugged, stacking plates.

“Sounds like it,” I murmured.

Dally smirked as he carried a tray of burgers.

“Girl’s got drama dripping outta her ears,” Dally drawled. “Quitting’s probably the least of it.”

Across town, Soda and Steve were putting in their time at Keith’s Auto. We’d seen them off before turning toward the café. Soda had grease on his hands before they even opened the garage door. Keith liked having them around, said they worked hard, and cracked jokes at just the right time to keep the day moving.

I pictured Soda wiping sweat off his forehead, Steve elbow-deep in some engine, both of them trading stories. It felt weird sometimes, us at the café, them at the shop, Darry at construction, but it also felt… steady. Like we were all carrying our weight in this new place.

Back at the café, the bell rang again. Lucas walked in, looking like he had the whole day written on his face. He didn’t say much, just dropped into a booth with his notebook. Haley showed up soon after, sliding in across from him, her voice quiet but insistent as they started talking.

I caught bits and pieces while I refilled coffee at the next table. Nathan’s name came up more than once, and Lucas’s scowl told the rest.

Pony glanced at me, worried.

“This is getting bad,” Pony said.

I didn’t say anything, but he wasn’t wrong.

Tree Hill had a way of tangling people up. And right then, it felt like Lucas, Peyton, Haley, and Nathan were all stuck in the same knot, tightening by the second.

And us? We were standing close enough to get pulled in, whether we wanted to or not.

By the time our shift ended, my feet ached and my head felt heavy with everything I’d overheard. The walk back to the house was quiet, just the shuffle of sneakers and the occasional crack of Two-Bit cracking wise to keep the air from sinking too low.

When we got home, the smell of stew and cornbread hit us before we even opened the door. Darry was at the stove, sleeves rolled, looking every bit the big brother and the stand-in parent all at once.

“Sit down,” Darry said. “Dinner’s ready.”

We crowded around the table, chairs scraping wood, bowls steaming. Soda and Steve showed up not long after, still in their shop clothes, grease under their nails. They looked tired, but the kind of tired that came with good work.

It didn’t take long for the gossip to spill. Soda leaned forward, spoon clinking against his bowl.

“You’ll never guess what Lucas did today,” Soda said, grinning.

Two-Bit raised an eyebrow.

“He dunked on Nathan?” Two-Bit asked. “Please tell me he dunked on Nathan.”

Steve shook his head.

“Better,” Steve said. “He asked Keith to play with him in the father-son game.”

The table went still. Pony’s eyes widened, Dally dropped his spoon with a clang, and I felt my own heart catch a little.

“Keith?” I asked, just to be sure.

“Keith,” Soda confirmed, nodding. “Right there in the shop. Dan wasn’t around, but I swear, Lucas said it like he’d been waiting his whole life to say it.”

Darry sat back, his face unreadable for a long second. Then he nodded.

“Good for him,” Darry said. “If Dan won’t step up, then Keith’s the man for it.”

Pony smiled a little, like the thought gave him hope.

“That’s… that’s actually really cool,” Pony said.

Dally smirked.

“Bet it’s gonna piss Nathan off, though,” Dally drawled.

“That’s the point,” Steve said, chuckling. “But it’s more than that. Lucas meant it. You could see it.”

We kept talking, running through the rest of the day, Peyton blowing up at Brooke, Haley sneaking off to tutor Nathan, the paper twisting the knife. Darry listened, his jaw tight, but he didn’t interrupt much. Just let us lay it all out like cards on a table.

After dinner, Pony and I tackled homework at the kitchen counter, Soda and Steve cleaned up dishes with Two-Bit cracking jokes the whole time, and Dally sprawled across the couch like he owned it.

Darry leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching over all of us.

It felt like home in that moment. Messy, loud, complicated. But steady too.

And with Tree Hill throwing storms our way every day, steady was something worth holding on to.

Morning came quickly, like it always did. Darry was already in the kitchen by the time I shuffled out, hair sticking up, trying to blink the sleep from my eyes. The smell of coffee was strong, and the toast was already on the table.

“Eat,” Darry said, sliding eggs onto a plate. “You’ve got school. I’ve got work.”

It was the same drill every morning, but somehow it felt comforting. Soda was humming while tying his sneakers, Steve was still fighting with his jacket zipper, Two-Bit was cracking jokes no one was awake enough to laugh at, and Dally grumbled his way through breakfast like it had offended him. Pony was the only one who actually looked awake, nose already buried in a book between bites of toast.

We spilled out the door in a noisy pack, Darry locking up behind us before peeling off toward the construction site. The rest of us headed down the familiar stretch toward school, the air crisp, our breath showing in faint clouds.

That’s when we saw it.

Lucas, leaning against Peyton’s car, her music low for once. They were talking, well, more like circling each other with words neither of them really wanted to say. Peyton’s face was half-hidden behind her hair, arms crossed, but I caught the flicker of something in her eyes. Lucas stood there steady, patient, like he wasn’t gonna give up no matter how many walls she put up.

Two-Bit elbowed me, smirking.

“Our boy’s trying to climb Mount Sawyer again,” Two-Bit joked.

Pony frowned, watching closer.

“She wants to let him in,” Pony said thoughtfully. “She just doesn’t know how.”

Before I could answer, movement on the other side of the lot caught our eyes. Nathan. And Haley.

She had that bright smile, notebook hugged to her chest, and Nathan leaned in too close, that trademark smirk plastered on his face. To anyone else, it might’ve looked like harmless tutoring. But we knew better.

“Kid’s playin’ a game, and it ain’t basketball,” Dally muttered.

Steve swore under his breath.

“Lucas is gonna lose it when he figures out what’s going on,” Steve said darkly.

And maybe that was true. But standing there watching both conversations, the quiet hope in Lucas’s eyes with Peyton, and the dangerous charm Nathan was laying on Haley, I knew one thing for sure.

Tree Hill was small, but the drama was big. And it wasn’t slowing down for anybody.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

Pony’s POV

By the time I got to homeroom, everybody at Tree Hill High was buzzing about one thing: the father-son basketball game. You couldn’t walk down the hall without hearing somebody say “Scott.” Sometimes it was Nathan’s name, sometimes Lucas’s, and sometimes Dan’s, like he was the president or something.

It was weird, being in a school where everybody cared about basketball the way people back home cared about rumbles. It was the fight that decided everything.

Johnny and I stuck together most of the morning. He kept quiet like always, but I could tell he was listening to every word people said. I caught snippets, Nathan was gonna “crush” Lucas, Dan was gonna show up like he owned the gym, and the Ravens didn’t even stand a chance. It made me grit my teeth.

At lunch, we sat at a table near Haley. She was talking with Lucas, leaning close so only he could hear. Lucas looked calm on the outside, but I’ve known enough fighters to recognize nerves when I see them. He kept spinning his fork in his hand like it was a basketball he couldn’t put down.

“Think he’s nervous?” Johnny asked me quietly.

“Wouldn’t you be?” I said. “Whole town’s waiting to see you fall or prove yourself.”

Before he could answer, Nathan walked by with Tim and the rest of his crew. He slapped his tray down at the next table over, laughing loud enough for everyone to hear. Haley rolled her eyes, but Lucas just stared down at his food, ignoring Nathan, in case ignoring Nathan might make him disappear.

Two-Bit leaned across the table, grinning.

“Tell me again how this ain’t like Tulsa?” Two-Bit asked teasingly. “Feels like Socs and Greasers all over again, only with jerseys instead of leather.”
He wasn’t wrong.

The rest of the day dragged. Teachers kept talking, but all anyone really cared about was the game that night. Even in English, when I tried to lose myself in reading, I caught the kids behind me whispering about whether Nathan would dunk over Lucas.

By the final bell, I was glad to get out. Soda and Steve peeled off toward Keith’s shop, already talking about carburetors and grease like they were born for it. Johnny, Two-Bit, Dally, and I crossed Main Street toward Karen’s Café.

The bell over the door jingled when we walked in, and the warm smell of coffee and muffins hit me. Karen waved from behind the counter.

“Right on time,” Karen said. “Aprons are in the back. Pony, you’re with me today.”

She showed me the coffee machine again, patiently like a teacher who didn’t mind repeating herself. I listened hard, trying not to look too nervous, because somehow making lattes for strangers felt harder than taking on Socs in a fight.

Across the café, Two-Bit was already trying to sneak cookies from the display case, and Karen swatted his hand with a laugh. Johnny balanced a tray carefully, moving between tables like he’d done this his whole life. Dally leaned on the counter, pretending not to care, but I could tell he liked having a place to belong.

It wasn’t glamorous work, but it felt steady. Normal. Almost like home.

And even with the game looming, even with Tree Hill buzzing louder than ever, I couldn’t help thinking, maybe normal was the one thing we all needed most.

By the time Karen let us off shift, the sky outside had already started to turn dusky. The café’s windows glowed warm as we untied our aprons and slipped out onto Main Street. Across town, Soda and Steve had just closed up at Keith’s shop, grease on their hands and tired smiles on their faces. We all fell into step together, six of us side by side, laughing a little too loudly like we were trying to shake off the weight of the day.

When we got home, the smell of roast chicken and biscuits hit us as soon as Darry opened the door. He’d been at it in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, looking every bit the older brother who didn’t just keep us fed, he kept us together.

“Wash up. Dinner’s ready,” Darry said, pointing a wooden spoon at us.

We piled around the table, food steaming on our plates. For a while, it was just the sound of forks and clinking glasses. But Soda broke the quiet first, as usual.

“So,” Darry said, grinning around a mouthful of biscuit, “who’s ready for the big game tonight?”

Two-Bit leaned back in his chair, smirking.

“Depends,” Two-Bit said. “Are we talking basketball game or Dan Scott’s public humiliation game?”

That got a laugh out of Steve.

“Both, if we’re lucky,” Steve said, smirking.

Johnny looked up from his plate, serious as ever.

“Lucas has a lot on his shoulders,” Johnny said nervously. “Whole school’s watching, whole town too. That’s not easy.”

Darry nodded, his eyes steady.

“He can handle it,” Darry said, matter-of-fact. “He’s got Keith by his side now. That’s a good man to have in your corner.”

I couldn’t help smiling at that. Keith wasn’t just filling a spot; he was stepping into a role Lucas deserved all along.

“Kid better play like hell,” Dally muttered while stabbing his fork into the roast. “Nathan’s not gonna take it easy on him.”

“He won’t,” I said, surprising myself with how sure I sounded. “Lucas doesn’t back down.”

Dinner wrapped up quickly after that, everyone finishing their plates and pushing back chairs. Darry grabbed his jacket, and we all followed his lead. The house went quiet behind us as we stepped out into the cool night air.

The closer we got to the gym, the louder the noise grew: voices, footsteps, the buzz of a crowd that had been waiting all week for this showdown.
It wasn’t just another basketball game.

It wasn’t just another basketball game.

It was Lucas versus Nathan. Keith versus Dan.

And somehow, all of us were part of the story now, too.

The gym was packed wall to wall, louder than anything I’d ever heard outside a rumble. Families, kids, teachers, Tree Hill had shown up like it was the championship. It didn’t matter that it was just a scrimmage; the Scotts were facing off, and that made it the only show in town.

We squeezed into a set of bleachers near the River Court crew. Skills gave us a nod, Mouth was already setting up his commentary with that beat-up camcorder, and Fergie and Junk were leaning over the rail, hollering before the game even started.

I caught sight of Lucas warming up with Keith by his side. They looked nervous, but steady. Keith clapped him on the back, and Lucas nodded like he was ready. Across the court, Nathan was laughing with Dan, bouncing the ball off the floor with that cocky ease that made my stomach twist. Dan didn’t even bother to hide his pride.

“Whole town’s already picked their winner,” Dally muttered beside me, arms crossed.

“Yeah,” I said. “But they’re wrong.”

The whistle blew, and the game tipped off.

It started rough. Nathan sank the first basket, the crowd roaring, Dan looking smug. Lucas missed one early, and the whispers around us cut sharply. My chest tightened watching him shake it off, sweat already gathering at his brow.

But then something shifted. Lucas drove down the court, faked out Tim, and passed to Keith, who sank the shot clean. Our side of the bleachers erupted, me, Johnny, Two-Bit, Soda, Darry, Steve, and even Dally yelling loud enough to shake the rafters.

The game went back and forth, basket after basket. Nathan was showy, spinning the ball, smirking after every score. Lucas was quiet, focused, playing with grit instead of flash. Keith kept him grounded, while Dan barked orders from the sidelines like he was still the one in charge.

By halftime, the score was tight. You could feel the gym split in two, half cheering Nathan, half pushing for Lucas.

Second half, it got ugly. Nathan shoved Lucas hard on one play, sending him to the floor. The ref blew the whistle, but Dan just grinned like it was a strategy. Lucas got up, jaw tight, eyes blazing. He didn’t say a word; he just answered with a clean jumper that silenced half the gym.

“Atta boy, Luke!” Skills hollered. We all joined in, stomping the bleachers.

The final minutes felt like forever. Nathan hit a three-pointer, and the crowd went wild. Lucas came right back, weaving past defenders, laying it in smoothly. Tie game, seconds left.

Keith caught the inbound, tossed it to Lucas, and time seemed to slow. Lucas dribbled, stepped back, and took the shot. The ball arced high, hung in the air, and dropped clean through the net just as the buzzer sounded.

The gym exploded. Half the crowd was cheering, half stunned into silence. Keith grabbed Lucas, pulling him into a hug, pride written all over his face. Across the court, Dan’s smirk was gone, his jaw set like stone. Nathan looked furious, shoving past Tim as if the loss was too heavy to carry.

I couldn’t stop grinning. My voice was hoarse from yelling, but I didn’t care. Lucas had done it.

Not just won the game.

He’d proved he belonged.

By the time the cheers started to fade and the crowd poured out of the gym, my throat was raw and my hands stung from clapping. Lucas stayed on the court a minute longer with Keith, still soaking in the moment. Karen hugged them both tight, and even Haley looked like she might cry; she was so proud.

We didn’t stay to watch Dan storm off with Nathan, though I caught a glimpse of them, Dan’s face tight, Nathan’s shoulders hunched like he’d just carried a loss heavier than the scoreboard. Tree Hill had plenty of drama, and tonight had only added fuel.

Our gang filtered out together, weaving through the crowd and into the cool night. Two-Bit was still buzzing, reenacting Lucas’s final shot in the middle of the sidewalk until Dally cuffed him in the back of the head. Soda and Steve couldn’t stop talking about Keith, how solid he’d been out there.

“Guy’s got hands,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Didn’t think he had it in him.”

“Bet Dan didn’t either,” Soda grinned.

That got a laugh from all of us.

When we got home, the house felt warm and steady, the way it always did after a long day. Darry tossed his jacket on the chair, and we all crowded into the kitchen for leftovers, roast chicken and biscuits gone cold but still good.

Dinner was quick, mostly chatter about the game, everyone talking over each other until Darry finally told us to quiet down. After that, we spread out, Johnny and I at the table working through homework, Soda sprawled on the couch with Steve pretending to quiz him on math, Two-Bit doodling on the edge of his notes, and Dally stretched out in the armchair like he was king of the place.
Darry hovered for a while, checking our work, before finally heading off to his room.

By the time I finished my last page of reading, the house had gone quiet except for the scratch of pencils and the low hum of the fridge. One by one, we packed it in, books closed, lights switched off, doors creaking shut.

I crawled into bed, exhaustion pulling me down. My head still replayed Lucas’s winning shot, the sound of the crowd erupting, the look on Dan Scott’s face as it all slipped away.

Tree Hill wasn’t home yet, not completely. But nights like this, loud, messy, full of small victories, made it feel like maybe it could be.

And with that thought, I let sleep take me.

Morning crept in too quickly, sunlight sneaking through the blinds and pulling me out of dreams of basketball courts and cheering crowds. My eyes felt heavy, but Darry’s voice cut through the haze like always.

“Up and at it, Pony,” Darry called. “School doesn’t wait.”

I dragged myself out of bed, rubbing my eyes. Johnny was already up, folding his blanket like he thought Darry might inspect it. He gave me a small smile.

“You hear Soda yelling in the kitchen?” Darry asked.

I nodded.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Means breakfast is almost gone.”

We shuffled down the hall into the kitchen, where the usual chaos was in full swing. Soda was balancing two pieces of toast in his mouth while trying to tie his shoes, Steve was flicking water at him from the sink, and Two-Bit was making faces in the toaster like it was a mirror. Dally slouched against the counter, coffee mug in hand, looking like mornings were a personal insult.

Darry moved around us like a drill sergeant, sliding scrambled eggs onto plates, his work shirt already tucked in, lunch packed and sitting by the door. He gave me that look when I hesitated with my fork.

“Eat, Pony,” Darry ordered, “You’ll need it.”

I did, even if the butterflies in my stomach made it hard. The whole town was still buzzing about the game last night, and I knew today at school was gonna be heavy with it.

Soda glanced at me between bites.

“Bet Nathan’s in a mood today,” Soda teased.

Steve smirked.

“Bet Dan’s worse,” Steve joked.

That earned a laugh around the table, even from Johnny.

“Hope I run into one of ‘em,” Dally muttered, and Darry gave him a sharp look.

We finished fast, Darry hustled us out the door with a reminder to keep our noses clean, then peeled off toward the construction site. The rest of us headed down Main, our group taking up most of the sidewalk like we always did.

Up ahead, Lucas and Haley walked together, talking low. Haley waved when she spotted us, but Lucas looked like he was carrying the weight of the whole town on his shoulders.

Couldn’t blame him. Last night had been a win, sure, but this morning, it was back to reality. And in Tree Hill, reality always came with drama waiting around the corner.

I shifted my books under my arm, glancing at Johnny, then back at Lucas.

Something told me this day was just getting started.

Walking into Tree Hill High that morning felt different. The whole place was buzzing, louder than usual, the win from the father-son game still hanging in the air like smoke after a fire. Everybody had an opinion. Some were impressed Lucas had pulled it off; others grumbled that Nathan had been robbed. But no one was ignoring it.

We pushed through the doors in our usual pack: me, Johnny, Two-Bit, Dally, Soda, and Steve. Heads turned as we went by, like we were satellites caught in Lucas Scott’s orbit just because we’d been at his side since we rolled into town.

Lucas was already at his locker, pulling out books. He looked steady, but I’d been around enough fights to know the calm after one didn’t always last long. Haley was beside him, trying to talk him into a smile.

“Don’t let them get to you,” Haley said. “You played your heart out last night, Luke. Half the gym was cheering for you.”

Lucas just gave her that quiet nod of his, shutting his locker a little harder than he had to.

That’s when Nathan and Tim strolled by. Nathan was all swagger, like losing hadn’t fazed him, but you could see the edge in his jaw. He threw Lucas a look sharp enough to cut glass.

“Enjoy your moment, man,” Nathan said. “’Cause that’s all it is, a moment.”

Tim snickered, and the two of them moved on, loud enough for the whole hall to hear them laughing.

I felt my hands curl into fists, and Dally muttered something under his breath that I didn’t repeat. But Lucas didn’t take the bait. He just stared after Nathan, jaw tight, eyes steady, like he was already planning the next move.

Two-Bit leaned closer to me, smirking.

“It’s Socs and Greasers all over again,” Two-Bit said. “Only this time, it’s Scotts.”

I couldn’t argue.

As the morning dragged on, the buzz didn’t die down. Teachers tried to get lessons started, but kids kept whispering about the game. Peyton drifted through the halls, sketchbook in hand, avoiding Brooke’s eyes every time they crossed paths. Word was they hadn’t spoken since the blow-up at practice.

By the second period, I felt it, the tension building again, like the game hadn’t settled anything at all.

If anything, it had just started the fight all over.

Between classes, the halls were crowded, kids spilling out of doorways, voices bouncing off the lockers. Johnny, Two-Bit, Dally, Soda, Steve, and I had staked out a spot by the water fountain when we caught Lucas and Haley’s voices carrying down the hall.

They were standing near her locker, talking low, but not low enough.

“…I trust you, Hales,” Lucas said, voice steady. “It’s Nathan I don’t trust.”

Haley shifted her books, giving him that look only she could.

“You’ve got to stop worrying so much, Luke,” Haley said with a sigh. “I can handle myself.”

Johnny glanced at me, eyes wide. Two-Bit let out a low whistle under his breath. Dally just smirked, but I knew he was listening closely.

Before Lucas could answer, Nathan swaggered up with Tim in tow. He leaned against the lockers like he owned them, flashing Haley that grin of his.

“Hey, tutor girl,” Nathan said, loud enough for half the hall to hear. “I’m looking forward to seeing you at the away game.”

Haley’s cheeks flushed, and she mumbled something about notes, but Nathan was already strutting off, Tim laughing beside him.

Lucas froze, jaw tight, eyes locked on Nathan’s back. He didn’t say a word, but the tension was sharp enough to feel all the way down the hall.
“This is bad,” Soda muttered.

“Real bad,” Steve agreed.

I didn’t know if Lucas’s silence meant he was letting it slide or just holding it in for later. But one thing was clear: whatever game Nathan was playing, Haley was caught in the middle.

And for the first time, I wondered if Tree Hill was big enough for both Scotts, or if it was gonna tear everyone in between apart.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

Soda’s POV

The rest of the school day dragged like molasses, the halls still buzzing with the Scotts’ drama. Every time Nathan walked by, you could feel the tension roll off Lucas. And every time Haley’s name got tossed into the mix, Lucas got tighter in the shoulders, quieter in his voice.

I stuck close to Steve, Johnny, and the rest of the gang. We were used to tension back in Tulsa, but Tree Hill had its own brand, less knives and fists, more whispers and stares. Didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

By the last bell, I was itching for work just to burn off the energy. Steve and I headed down to Keith’s Auto Shop, the smell of grease and metal familiar now. We’d barely rolled up our sleeves when Keith called us over.

“You boys planning on going to the game tonight?” Keith asked, wiping his hands on a rag.

Steve and I traded looks.

“We were gonna see if we could make it after shift,” Steve said.

Keith shook his head.

“Nah,” Keith said with a smile. “Take the night. Paid. It’s important, you’re part of Lucas’s crew now, and he could use the support.”

I couldn’t help but grin.

“Thanks, Keith,” I said. “Really.”

Meanwhile, over at the café, Johnny, Two-Bit, Pony, and Dally were getting the same deal. Karen pulled them aside before their aprons were even tied.

“I know you boys have shifts, but this game matters,” Karen said. “You’ll get paid for the night. Go cheer Lucas on.”

By the time we regrouped back at the Curtis house, everyone was buzzing with the news. Darry had gotten home early, still in his work shirt, car keys in hand.

“Everybody ready?” Darry asked.

Two-Bit pretended to fumble with his sneakers, muttering about how he needed his “lucky laces,” but we were all grinning ear to ear.

The ride out to the away game felt like the calm before a storm. Windows down, air rushing in, the whole gang packed tight. Johnny leaned against the glass, watching the trees blur past. Dally cracked jokes from the backseat. Pony scribbled notes in his notebook, even with the car bumping along.

I leaned back and let the hum of voices surround me. This wasn’t Tulsa anymore. It wasn’t rumbles or late-night sirens. It was basketball games, long drives, and friends who were more like family.
And tonight, it was about showing up for Lucas.

The gym smelled like sweat and popcorn the second we walked in. Bleachers were already packed, people shouting, stomping, waving school colors. It wasn’t Tulsa football, but man, it had the same charge in the air.

We found seats together halfway up, me, Steve, Pony, Johnny, Dally, and Two-Bit. Darry stood near the aisle, arms crossed, eyes sharp like he was surveying a construction site. The River Court gang was scattered nearby, hooting for Lucas the second they spotted him warming up.

Lucas looked calm out there, steady. He had that same focus Darry got before a job, or Pony when he was scribbling down something important. Meanwhile, Nathan strutted across the court, jaw tight, shoulders squared, like he was ready to make it a show.

When the whistle blew and the game kicked off, the whole place roared.

It didn’t take long for the tension to spill onto the court. Nathan went at Lucas hard, elbows sharp, fouls barely hidden. Every time Lucas got the ball, Nathan was right there, in his face, daring him to crack.

“Man, it’s like watching Darry and Paul Holden all over again,” Two-Bit muttered, shaking his head.

Pony leaned forward, knuckles white on the edge of the bleacher.

“Lucas can take him,” Pony murmured. “He’s not backing down.”

The game swung back and forth, the crowd feeding on it. Haley sat lower down in the stands, clapping hard every time Lucas made a shot. You could see Nathan glance her way between plays, that smirk curling even when he missed.

By the second half, the place was electric. Lucas drove down the court, cutting through defenders, sinking shots that Nathan couldn’t stop, no matter how many times he shoved him. Every basket made the River Court crew louder, our gang too. Even Darry let out a shout when Lucas tied it up.

But Nathan wasn’t gonna let it slide. His jaw tightened, and the plays got nastier. The ref caught some, missed others. By the final minutes, both Scotts were running on pride more than anything else.
When the buzzer finally blared, the score was close, but Lucas had proved what mattered. He belonged out there. And everybody in the gym knew it.

We were on our feet, clapping, hollering, while Nathan stalked off the court, Tim trailing after him. Lucas barely cracked a smile, but you could see it in his eyes; he’d earned it.
“Kid’s got guts,” Darry said beside me, his voice low but proud.

I nodded, grinning ear to ear.

“Guess Tree Hill’s got its own kind of rumble,” I said.

And just like back home, we’d picked our side.

The final buzzer was still echoing in my ears when the team jogged off the court. The crowd thinned, voices buzzing about the Scotts, about how Lucas had shown up Nathan on his own turf. We lingered in the stands a little, waiting for the crush of people to spill out before heading toward the parking lot.

I spotted Whitey near the team huddle, arms crossed, eyes sharp as a hawk’s. He didn’t look pleased, not about the win, not about the loss. Just… disappointed, like a teacher who expected better.
We slipped closer, hanging back against the wall by the exit. Darry had that look like he was ready to step in if things blew up, but none of us said a word.

Nathan stormed past, towel slung around his neck, Tim trailing him. Lucas came a second later, sweat dripping, jaw set. The air between them was tight as a wire.

That’s when Whitey’s voice cut through the noise.

“Scott, both of you!” Whitey shouted, furious.

Nathan turned, already defensive. “What? We won, didn’t we?”

Whitey shook his head.

“Not like that,” Whitey grumbled. “You two think this is about showing each other up? You’re supposed to be teammates. Brothers.” His voice carried across the gym, calm but sharp enough to sting.
Neither Lucas nor Nathan said anything; both of them stared at the floor like kids caught red-handed.

Whitey finally pointed toward the team bus outside.

“You two can find your own way home,” Whitey growled. “Might give you time to figure out what being a team really means.”

The look on Nathan’s face was priceless: shock, then anger. Lucas just swallowed hard, shoulders stiff.

The rest of the team filed past, whispering, laughing, and shooting side glances at the Scotts.

“Damn,” Two-Bit muttered beside me, eyes wide. “Coach just grounded ’em without even raising his voice.”

Johnny nudged me with his elbow.

“Wonder how that ride’s gonna go,” Johnny said.

Darry cleared his throat, steering us toward the door.

“C’mon, let’s give ’em space,” Darry said with a sigh. “We’ll catch Lucas later.”

Outside, the night air was cool against my face, the parking lot buzzing with parents, fans, and players heading out. We piled back into Darry’s car, the adrenaline from the game still humming in my veins.

As Darry pulled onto the road, I glanced out the window and spotted Lucas and Nathan standing near the curb, not speaking, not even looking at each other. Just two shadows under the streetlight, waiting to figure out how to get home together.

I leaned back in my seat, shaking my head.

“Tree Hill’s got more drama in one night than Tulsa had in a year,” I muttered.

Dally smirked in the back.

“Yeah, but it’s fun to watch,” Dally said.

I didn’t say it out loud, but I had a feeling this wasn’t the last time we’d see Lucas and Nathan forced together. And the sparks weren’t anywhere near done flying.

The ride back from the away game was a mix of noise and silence. Two-Bit cracked jokes from the backseat, trying to lighten the mood, while Pony kept staring out the window, replaying the game in his head like he’d been the one out there. Steve and Dally argued over who had the better jump shot, Johnny smiled faintly at the banter, and Darry kept his eyes glued to the road, steady as always.

Me? I couldn’t stop thinking about Lucas and Nathan under that streetlight. Two brothers, same blood, couldn’t be more different, and now forced to share a ride home.

When we pulled into the driveway, Darry hustled us inside.

“Get washed up,” Darry ordered. “Dinner won’t wait.”

The table filled fast, plates clattering as Darry dished out meatloaf and mashed potatoes. For a while, the only sounds were forks against plates and Two-Bit humming some commercial jingle under his breath.

Then Steve broke the silence.

“So, that was one hell of a game,” Steve said slowly. “Lucas lit Nathan up good.”

Dally smirked.

“Kid held his own,” Dally drawled. “Didn’t think he had it in him.”

Pony leaned forward, voice thoughtful.

“Whitey was right, though,” Pony said quietly. “You could see it, they weren’t playing as a team. They were playing against each other.”

“Yeah, and look where it got ’em,” I added, grinning. “Kicked off the bus like misbehaving school kids.”

That got a laugh around the table, even from Darry, though he shook his head right after.

“Funny now, sure, but those two are gonna keep dragging people into their mess,” Darry said. “Bet on it.”

We were just clearing plates when the phone rang. Darry picked it up, listened for a second, then handed it to me with a nod.

“It’s Lucas,” Darry said with an eye roll.

I pressed the receiver to my ear.

“Yo, man, you make it home alive?” I asked.

Lucas’s voice was tired but edged with humor.

“Barely,” Lucas said. “Whitey dumped us both, so Nathan and I had to find our own ride. Ended up hitching with some trucker who spent the whole time talking about barbecue.”

I bit back a laugh.

“Sounds about right,” I teased. “You two kill each other?”

“Not yet,” Lucas said, and I could almost hear his wry half-smile. “We even managed to talk a little. Doesn’t mean we’re buddies, but… it wasn’t all bad.”

From the background noise, I could hear Haley chiming in, probably giving him grief. Lucas sighed. “Anyway, figured I’d fill you guys in before the rumor mill twists it all tomorrow.”
“Appreciate it,” I said. “See you at school, alright?”
“Yeah. Night, Soda.”

I hung up, turning back to the table where everyone was watching me like I’d just heard state secrets.

“So?” Two-Bit prompted.

“They’re alive,” I said with a grin. “Didn’t strangle each other. Yet.”

That earned a round of chuckles, but as the laughter faded, I caught Pony’s thoughtful look. The Scotts might not have killed each other tonight, but the way things were headed… I wasn’t sure how long they’d keep surviving the same storm.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16

Darry’s POV

Morning at the Curtis house was always a circus, but that day it felt like someone had turned the volume all the way up.

I was at the stove flipping eggs, already in my work shirt, trying to keep track of time. Pony was running around with a book in one hand and his backpack half open, Johnny reminding him not to forget his homework. Two-Bit was still hunting for his other shoe, swearing he’d left it by the door. Dally was leaning against the counter, sipping coffee like he had nowhere in the world to be.

Soda and Steve were the loudest, arguing over whether they could borrow my truck after school to pick up a part for Keith’s shop.

“Not happening,” I said over the noise. “I need it for work.”

Soda groaned.

“Man, you’re killing us,” Soda whined.

“You’ll live,” I retorted. “You’ve got legs, don’t you?”

The kitchen fell into its usual rhythm, me trying to keep everyone moving, them trying to pull in six different directions at once. I slid plates onto the table, tapping Pony’s shoulder when he nearly walked past breakfast.

“Eat,” I insisted. “You’ll thank me later.”

Through it all, I kept an ear to the chatter. The game from last night was still the topic of choice, Lucas versus Nathan, Whitey tossing them off the bus, the whole town buzzing. Steve said some kids at school were already betting on how long before the two Scotts went at it again.

“Tree Hill sure knows how to stir up drama,” Two-Bit said, finally emerging with both shoes.

“Yeah,” I muttered, grabbing my lunch pail. “And somehow, we’re right in the middle of it.”

By the time we were out the door, I was herding them like a pack of strays. The school sat in one direction, the construction site in another, and for a second, I just stood there, watching them scatter down the street.

Sometimes it hit me harder than others, the weight of keeping this whole bunch steady. Back in Tulsa, it had been survival day to day. Here, it was different. Tree Hill wasn’t perfect, but it gave us a chance to build something new. If we didn’t let the drama swallow us first.

I climbed into the truck, started the engine, and headed off to work. Another day, another balancing act.

Work on a job site was noisy, rough, and busy, but compared to the chaos of getting six teenagers out the door every morning, it almost felt quiet.

We were putting up framing on a new house, the kind with way too many windows and a fancy porch, something built for money. I kept my head down, hammer in hand, letting the rhythm of it settle me. Wood, nails, sweat. It was simple. Straightforward. No games.

But the talk around the site wasn’t about construction.

It was about the Scotts.

“Did you hear Whitey benched Nathan after the away game?” one of the guys muttered as we broke for water. “Word is, he and Lucas can’t stand each other.”

Another laughed.

“That’s not news,” another said. “The whole town’s known that since Lucas picked up a ball.”

I kept quiet, though my jaw tightened. Even here, away from the high school halls, it was all anyone could talk about. Tree Hill might’ve been bigger than Tulsa, but it still ran on gossip and loyalties.

At lunch, I ducked into Karen’s Café to grab a sandwich. Karen was behind the counter, and she filled me in before I even ordered.

“Whitey’s pushing Lucas hard,” Karen said, shaking her head. “Says if he’s gonna wear that Ravens jersey, he’s gotta step up. And Nathan… well, Nathan’s not making it easy.”

I nodded, not surprised.

“That kid’s been spoiled,” I said. “Dan lets him get away with too much.”

Karen sighed, her smile faint but tired.

“Tell me about it,” Karen muttered. “If it weren’t for Keith, Lucas wouldn’t have a chance out there.”

I thought about that while I ate at the corner table, watching the town go about its business. Back home, fights and rumbles decided everything. Here, it was basketball. But the way people lived and died by it, the pride, the grudges, the family names, it wasn’t all that different.

By the time I got back to the site, the sun was high, my arms ached, and my head was still full of Scott family drama. I hammered harder, like maybe I could drown it out.

But I knew one thing for sure: sooner or later, Lucas and Nathan’s mess was gonna spill out bigger than just a game. And when it did, it’d take more than Whitey’s whistle to settle it.

By the time the quitting whistle blew, my shoulders were burning and my palms raw from hammering all day. I packed up my tools, wiped the sweat off with the rag I kept in my back pocket, and let out a long breath. Another day done, another dollar earned.

Driving home, the sun was dipping low, painting the sky orange. My thoughts wandered to the boys, whether Pony had kept his head down in class, whether Soda had managed to stay out of trouble at the shop, whether Dally had behaved long enough at the café to keep Karen from firing him.

When I pulled into the driveway, the lights were already on inside. I stepped through the front door, and the smell of spaghetti sauce hit me. The noise hit right after.

The gang was already at the table, voices flying over each other, hands waving as they tried to talk all at once. I set my lunch pail down, washed up, and sat at the head of the table. Immediately, Soda leaned over with that grin of his.

“You should’ve been at school today, Darry,” Soda chirped. “Whole place was a circus.”

I smirked, twirling some spaghetti on my fork.

“Aren’t most days?” I retorted.

“Not like this one,” Pony cut in. “Nathan’s been on Haley nonstop, trying to get under Lucas’s skin. We saw her walking into the tutoring center with him, and Lucas looked about ready to blow.”

Two-Bit leaned back, balancing his chair on two legs.

“I say let ’em go at it,” Two-Bit said. “Cage match, Scotts versus Scotts. Charge admission.”

Johnny shot him a look.

“It’s not funny, Two-Bit,” Johnny chastised. “Haley’s caught in the middle, and she doesn’t deserve it.”

Steve nodded.

“And Peyton and Brooke still ain’t talking,” Steve grumbled. “Word’s going around Peyton’s been skipping practices, Brooke’s been running her mouth, and now half the cheer squad’s picking sides.”

“Tree Hill high school politics,” Dally said, smirking as he stabbed at his plate. “Almost makes Tulsa look tame.”

I chewed slowly, listening, filing away the pieces. These boys thrived on being in the middle of things, but that meant I had to keep an eye on what kind of trouble was brewing.

“So what I’m hearing,” I said finally, setting my fork down, “is that the Scotts are still at each other’s throats, Haley’s stuck in the crossfire, and Peyton’s about ready to walk away from the squad?”

They all nodded.

I sighed.

“Alright,” I said. “Just remember, Tree Hill drama isn’t our fight. Stick by your friends, but don’t get dragged under.”

The table quieted for a beat. Then Two-Bit grinned, breaking the moment.

“Relax, Darry,” Two-Bit said. “We’ll stay out of trouble. Mostly.”

The rest of them laughed, and even I couldn’t help cracking a smile. But deep down, I knew better.

This town had a way of pulling you into its storms, whether you wanted it or not.

The next day rolled in the same as always, me out the door early, the boys stumbling after breakfast, the sound of sneakers slapping the sidewalk as they made their way toward school. My shift at the site kept me busy enough that I didn’t have much time to think, but when I got home that evening, the house was buzzing.

They were scattered across the living room: Pony with his notebook, Soda and Steve tossing a ball back and forth, Dally sprawled across the armchair like he owned it, Johnny and Two-Bit on the floor with the TV going. It looked like any other night, but the energy was restless, like they were all waiting for something.

The phone rang, and Soda snatched it up before I even got my boots off.

“Curtis residence,” Soda said, then his grin widened. “Oh, hey, Luke. Yeah, he’s here. Hold on.”

He held the receiver out to me, and I took it, curious.

“Yeah, this is Darry,” I said cautiously.

Lucas’s voice came through, steady but carrying that edge of hesitation.

“Hey, Darry,” Lucas said with a sigh. “Sorry to bother you, but… I could use a favor. Or maybe more like backup.”

“Go on,” I said.

“There’s a team sponsor party tonight at my dad’s house,” Lucas said. “Dan’s making it a big deal. I don’t really… fit in with that crowd. I was wondering if you guys could come. Just moral support, you know?”

I glanced at the boys. All eyes were on me, waiting. They were already halfway sold.

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Alright, Lucas,” I relented. “We’ll be there. But you're sure about this? You know, Dan’s not exactly rolling out a welcome mat for us.”

Lucas let out a short laugh.

“Yeah, I know,” Lucas chuckled. “But I need people I can trust there. And that’s you guys.”

That landed heavier than I expected. For a kid like Lucas, putting his faith in us, the Greasers turned Tree Hill strays, it meant something.

“We’ll be there,” I said firmly.

When I hung up, Soda was already on his feet.

“Sponsor party at Casa de Scott?” Soda said with a smirk. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Two-Bit whooped like it was a carnival, and Dally just smirked, eyes glinting.

I shook my head, but I couldn’t fight the small smile creeping in. Whatever this night held, one thing was clear: Lucas wasn’t walking into Dan Scott’s house alone.
And that, more than anything, made us part of this town now.

I’ll say this much: seeing my boys in suits was enough to stop me in my tracks.

Two-Bit complained the whole time about his tie being “a noose in disguise,” Dally looked like he’d just as soon punch someone as wear the jacket, and Soda kept checking himself in the mirror, slicking his hair back. Steve and Pony cleaned up sharp, Johnny too, quiet but steady in his black jacket. For a minute, it almost felt like we were headed to a wedding instead of walking straight into enemy territory.

The Scott house was lit up like it wanted the whole town to know it was throwing a party. Cars lined the street, voices floated down the driveway, and through the big windows we could see the crowd already buzzing.

Lucas was waiting on the porch, hands shoved in his pockets, hair combed but still a little wild. Relief flickered across his face when he saw us walking up.

“You came,” Lucas said.

“Of course we did,” I told him. “You asked. That’s enough.”

Inside, the place was all polished: chandeliers, gleaming floors, trays of hors d’oeuvres carried by people in pressed white shirts. The air smelled like money and wine, and right away I felt eyes on us. Dan Scott’s world wasn’t built for kids from Tulsa.

But we held our heads high, shoulders squared, the same way we walked into rumbles back home.

Dan was at the center of it all, smile sharp, shaking hands, working the room like he was king. His smile faltered when he spotted Lucas with us in tow. I didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened.
Nathan stood off to the side, arms crossed, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Peyton hovered near him, aloof, while Brooke flitted through the crowd, all charm and laughter. Haley arrived late, clutching her books, her nerves written plain across her face.

Karen was there too, standing tall, proud in her quiet way, Keith close by her side. Their presence steadied the room, a reminder Lucas wasn’t walking this path alone.
The speeches, the fake smiles, the clinking glasses, it all felt heavy-handed, like Dan needed the town to believe he had control. But I watched Lucas, saw how he carried himself even under the weight of it. He wasn’t backing down.

“Not bad, kid,” I murmured under my breath, catching Soda’s grin from across the room.

We didn’t belong in Dan Scott’s house. That much was clear. But we weren’t there for Dan. We were there for Lucas. And that was all that mattered.

If there was one thing Dan Scott knew how to do, it was work a room. He shook hands, told jokes, and made people feel like they were standing in the presence of someone important. But I’d seen men like him before back in Tulsa, slick talkers, all flash and control, their power built on keeping everyone else beneath them.

I kept an eye on Lucas. He stood tall, but there was a weight on his shoulders, like he was holding his ground in a fight he hadn’t chosen. The sponsors mingled, smiling, but when they looked at him, it was with a question mark, like they weren’t sure if he belonged.

Dan didn’t help that. He made little digs whenever he got the chance, dressed up like jokes.

“Glad you could make it, Lucas. Didn’t think this was really your kind of scene.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Lucas kept his voice calm, his words measured, but I could see the storm in him. He wasn’t gonna give Dan the satisfaction of cracking.

Nathan, meanwhile, lurked by the punch bowl, shooting glares across the room. Tim was with him, laughing too loudly, while Peyton leaned against the wall with that bored, distant look. Brooke was in her element, working the crowd like she’d been born for this.

Haley showed up late, books in her arms, her nerves written plain across her face. She looked around like she wasn’t sure if she’d made a mistake walking in. Lucas’s face softened when he saw her, though.

When Karen walked through the doors, you could feel the air shift. She didn’t say much, didn’t need to. She carried herself like someone who’d worked for every scrap she had, and I respected the hell out of that. Keith hovered near her, awkward but protective.

Dan’s smirk got sharper when Karen stepped up. He introduced her to the sponsors like she was just the café lady, but Karen held her own. Her words were steady, proud; she made sure they knew Lucas didn’t come from Dan’s money. He came from her.

The tension only got worse as the night went on. Nathan made a snide comment to Lucas about not belonging, and Lucas shot back, quiet but firm. Whitey was there too, sharp-eyed, watching it all like he already knew the whole house of cards was gonna fall.

Through it all, my boys stayed close. They didn’t belong here any more than I did, but they made themselves Lucas’s wall, filling in the space around him like they’d always done for each other back in Tulsa.

I caught Dan watching us once, his gaze cold and measuring. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like that Lucas had people, family, that Dan couldn’t control.

By the time the speeches were over and the sponsors started filing out, the air in the Scott house felt thick enough to choke on. Lucas kept his chin up, but his eyes were tired.

When we finally stepped out into the night, the cool air hit like a relief. Two-Bit loosened his tie with a dramatic groan, Dally lit a cigarette before we hit the curb, and Soda let out a low whistle.

“Well,” Steve said, hands shoved in his pockets, “that was a party.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “The kind where nobody’s really celebrating.”

Lucas gave me a faint smile, but there was no joy in it. Just gratitude.

“Thanks for coming,” Lucas said. “I don’t think I’d have made it through without you guys.”

I clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Anytime,” I said. “You’re not fighting this alone.”

Dan might’ve built that house, filled it with money and power, but outside under the stars, I knew Lucas had something stronger.

And so did we.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17

Two-Bit’s POV

Breakfast was half eggs, half chaos at the Curtis house. Darry was herding us around like we were late for a flight, Johnny nearly spilled orange juice across his homework, and Soda was humming some tune he’d probably picked up at work.

Then the phone rang. Pony got it, and his face lit up.

“Lucas wants us to meet him and Haley at the music store before school,” Pony said.

I grinned.

“Field trip before first period?” I teased. “Count me in.”

The place smelled like vinyl and coffee, walls plastered with old tour posters. Lucas and Haley were already flipping through records when we walked in. Haley grinned, waving like we’d just stepped into her second home.

“Check this out,” Lucas said, holding up a Clash vinyl. Before I could crack a joke, the bell over the door jingled, and in walked Nathan Scott.

Tension rolled in with him like storm clouds. He leaned on the counter, all swagger, needling Lucas about the article and about Haley. It was the same scene we’d seen replayed a hundred times already, Nathan pushing, Lucas holding ground, Haley caught in the middle.

I hung back with Johnny and Pony, letting the brothers circle each other. That’s when I noticed her, Jenny Parker. She was by the listening booth, curly strawberry-blonde hair bouncing as she tried on headphones way too big for her head. She caught me looking and gave me this wide, goofy smile, like we were in on the same joke nobody else knew.

“Don’t tell me you’re a boy band guy,” Jenny teased, spotting the CD in my hand before I even realized what I’d picked up.
I barked a laugh.
“Hey, don’t knock NSYNC,” I said. “They’ve got moves.”

She giggled, sliding closer, and just like that, I was gone.

Across the store, Pony had found Elena “Ellie” Marsh sitting cross-legged on the floor by the poetry anthologies stacked in the corner. She was sketching right there on the tiles, stormy gray-blue eyes flicking up at him like she’d been expecting him.

Johnny wandered to the rack of faded band tees where Sadie Miller was sifting through sizes. She smiled softly at him, the kind of smile that said she understood before he even spoke.

Dally leaned against the doorway, smirking when Roxanne “Roxy” Delgado strolled in, hoop earrings glinting, leather jacket creaking as she crossed her arms.

“Didn’t think I’d see you in a place like this,” Roxy said.

“Same,” Dally fired back, but his grin gave him away.

Soda nearly tripped over his own feet when Cassie Whitmore bounced in with a cheer bag slung over her shoulder, bright green eyes sparkling like the whole store had been waiting for her. She tugged on his sleeve and laughed at his dumb joke about disco records.

And Steve, well, Steve locked eyes with Tara Winslow, who was leaning against the counter like she owned it, ripped jeans and a smirk sharp enough to cut glass.
“Don’t even start,” Tara warned before he’d said a word. He started anyway.

Meanwhile, Nathan was still mouthing off, Lucas was standing his ground, and Haley was caught in the middle. Same old Scott family storm brewing. But for the first time since Tulsa, it felt like maybe Tree Hill had more in store for us than just drama. Maybe it had people who saw us.

By the time we made it to school, the music store energy had fizzled into something heavier. Word of Nathan and Lucas’s little showdown was already bouncing off lockers, passed along like gossip was a sport around here.

Nathan was walking tall, Tim flanking him like a loyal mutt, and every time they passed Lucas, Nathan had some dig ready.

“Nice article, bro,” Tim mocked. “Didn’t know charity cases got press.” Or, “Hope you’ve been stretching, hate to see you break out there.”

Lucas didn’t bite, not once. He just tightened his jaw and kept moving, which somehow made Nathan push harder. I’ve seen guys like that a million times. The kind that need you to swing first so they can call it a win.

Haley, though, was right in the crossfire. Every time Nathan cracked a smirk her way, she’d flush, mumble something, and duck her head. And every time Lucas caught it, you could feel the heat rolling off him like a storm cloud.

At lunch, I watched it unfold from a few tables over. Haley tried to keep the peace, juggling her tutoring sessions with Nathan and her loyalty to Lucas. But the lines were getting blurry. Nathan leaned too close when she explained something, Lucas clenched his fists under the table, and half the cafeteria knew there was more going on than test prep.

“Kid’s playing both sides,” Dally muttered, stabbing his fork into a pile of fries.

“Haley’s not like that,” Pony shot back, bristling. “She’s trying to help Nathan. That’s all.”

Johnny kept his voice quiet, but steady.

“Doesn’t matter,” Johnny murmured. “Nathan doesn’t want help. He wants control.”

They weren’t wrong. I could see the tug-of-war plain as day.

By the last period, even Whitey was circling around the tension. He gave Lucas that sharp look when he showed up late to practice, like he knew exactly what was going on without needing to hear it.

“You wanna wear that jersey, son,” Whitey said, “then focus on the game, not the nonsense.”

The thing was, the nonsense was the game.

Tree Hill didn’t run on rules or plays; it ran on grudges. And Nathan wasn’t letting go of his.

After school, the gang split the way we always did, now, Soda and Steve heading off toward Keith’s shop, the rest of us cutting down Main Street to Karen’s. The autumn air had that crisp bite, and Pony had his nose buried in a little notebook, probably scribbling poetry, while Johnny walked next to him with that far-off look he got when he was turning something over in his head.

I was trying to lighten the mood like always.

“Y’know, if this town keeps feeding us drama, I’m gonna need popcorn just to make it through math class,” I said teasingly.

Dally smirked.

“Better than Tulsa, huh?” Dally teased back.

“Yeah,” I said, “but Tulsa didn’t come with Nathan Scott.”

By the time we got to the café, Karen already had the aprons waiting. Dally groaned like putting on an apron was torture, but even he tied his on. The place filled up quickly, parents with kids, a few stragglers from school, the smell of coffee and pie hanging heavy in the air.

That’s when Brooke breezed in, all confidence and lip gloss. She plopped herself onto a stool at the counter where Haley was wiping down.

“So,” Brooke said, like she’d been planning the line all day, “I think you should go out with Nathan.”

The café went quiet enough that I could hear Johnny drop a spoon back into the sink. Pony blinked up from his notebook, and even Dally leaned in.

Haley’s eyes widened.

“Excuse me?” Haley asked, confused.

“You’re tutoring him,” Brooke sing-songed. “He’s single. You’re… cute in that librarian way. It’s perfect.”

Haley sputtered, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek not to laugh. Pony shot me a look that said don’t you dare.

“That girl’s crazier than me,” I muttered under my breath.

Johnny cracked the smallest smile, but I could see the storm brewing behind his eyes. He didn’t like Nathan pulling Haley into his games. None of us did.

Still, the shift went on. Pony slipped out back for a breather halfway through and came in trailing a girl with a sketchbook tucked under her arm, Elena, or Ellie, I think he said. Chestnut hair, stormy eyes, and the kind of presence that made Pony stammer just a little.

Johnny’s girl, Sadie, showed up later too, sliding into a booth with a smile that seemed to ease the tension right out of him.

And then there was Roxy, Dally’s Roxy, leaning against the jukebox like she owned it, red streak catching the light. She gave him that smirk, the one that meant trouble, and for once, Dal actually looked nervous.

I couldn’t help myself.

“Man, Tree Hill’s turning into a rom-com, and I’m stuck in the middle,” I said with a grin.

That’s when Jenny Parker popped in, bright curls bouncing, smile wide as ever. She spotted me, waved like I was the star attraction, and I swear my ears turned red.

Karen noticed too.

“Looks like you boys are settling in just fine,” Karen said with a knowing grin.

I played it off, flipping a towel over my shoulder. But inside? Yeah. She was right.

We finally closed up the café for the night, wiping down counters and stacking chairs. Pony slipped his notebook back in his pocket, Johnny gave Sadie a little wave goodnight, and Dal swaggered out like he hadn’t just gotten caught staring at Roxy every other second.

By the time we hit the street, the autumn air was cooler, the sky going that dusky purple. We cut around the corner by Keith’s, and sure enough, Soda and Steve were leaning against the tow truck, grease still on their hands like battle scars.

“Bout time,” Soda called. “I was beginning to think you four ran off with Karen’s pie.”

“Wouldn’t blame us if we did,” I shot back, tossing my apron over my shoulder.

Steve smirked.

“So, what’s the gossip?” Steve teased. “Anyone get kissed tonight, or are y’all still practicing the art of staring?”

That got Pony to flush, big time.

“Shut up, Steve,” Pony grumbled.

Dal barked out a laugh.

“Kid’s got a girl now, Elena,” Dally teased. “Little artist type. They were scribblin’ away on napkins like they were plotting world domination.”

“She’s not my girl,” Pony muttered, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Sure, sure,” I said, clapping him on the back. “Next, you’ll be reading her Gone With the Wind under the bleachers.”

Johnny stayed quiet, but Soda nudged him.

“What about you?” Soda teased. “Sadie came by, didn’t she?”

Johnny’s cheeks went redder than Pony’s.

“She… yeah,” Johnny mumbled, embarrassed. “She just stopped in. She’s nice.”

Steve grinned.

“Translation: Johnny’s a goner,” Steve joked.

Dal shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, eyes scanning the street.

“Better me than any of you clowns,” Dally said, real casual, but I could tell he was thinking about Roxy, probably already planning what kind of trouble they could stir up next.

“And don’t think we didn’t notice Jenny swingin’ by for you, Mathews,” Soda said with a sly grin.

I tried to shrug it off.

“Hey, the girl just likes my jokes”, I said, trying to stay humble.

“Or maybe she just likes you,” Steve fired back.

That shut me up quicker than I thought it would.

We fell into step together, seven shadows stretched long under the streetlamps. For once, the walk home wasn’t heavy with Tulsa memories or Tree Hill drama. It was just us, ragtag, loud, tripping over each other’s words, teasing about girls and shifts and who’d win in a fight between Whitey and Keith if it ever came down to it.

For the first time in a long while, it felt like… maybe we weren’t just surviving. Maybe we were actually living.

By the time we got home, the place smelled like Darry’s cooking, something with garlic, enough to make all our stomachs growl in unison. He was already at the stove, sleeves rolled up, spatula in hand, looking every bit the responsible older brother and not the twenty-year-old kid he really was.

“You’re late,” Darry said without even turning. “Dinner’s been ready for ten.”

“Yeah, well, blame Brooke Davis,” I shot back as we filed in. “She decided Haley should be Nathan’s next girlfriend. Loudly. At the café.”

That got Darry to turn around, brows lifted.

“You’re kidding,” Darry said.

“Nope,” I said, plopping into my chair. “Tree Hill’s full of surprises.”

Soda dropped into the seat across from me, grinning.

“That’s not even the half of it,” Soda teased. “Pony’s got himself an artist girl, Elena.”

“Don’t start,” Pony said, ducking his head, but the blush gave him away.

Dally smirked, sliding into his chair.

“Johnny’s got Sadie, too,” Dally teased. “Sweet kid. And then there’s Roxy.”

Darry narrowed his eyes at Dal.

“Roxy?” Darry asked, suspicious.

“Relax,” Dally said, raising his hands. “She can handle herself. Probably better than me.”

That actually earned a chuckle from Darry as he started dishing out food.

“Well, as long as none of them drag you boys into trouble, I’ll allow it,” Darry said.

Steve leaned forward, smirking.

“What about Jenny, huh, Two-Bit?” Steve asked. “You gonna tell Darry how she came all the way in just to see you?”

I about choked on my water.

“She just likes my jokes!” I protested.

“Sure she does,” Soda said, winking.

Everyone burst out laughing, even Johnny, who usually kept quiet. Darry shook his head like he couldn’t believe he was living in a sitcom. But there was a smile tugging at his mouth too, the kind he only got when he was trying not to show how proud he was.

“What about you, Dar?” I asked, trying to throw off the interrogation. “Did Claire Benton stop by your work?”

Darry blushed and appeared flustered. That started a whole interrogation of Darry.

Dinner went on like that, teasing, swapping stories, trading Tree Hill gossip like baseball cards. For once, the table wasn’t just about survival or stress. It was about living, about building something new.
And as much as I wanted to keep joking, deep down I knew, yeah, maybe this was the start of something good.

After dinner, the clatter of plates and forks gave way to the usual shuffle, Steve and Soda half-heartedly arguing over who had dish duty, Darry barking out reminders about chores, and me slipping out of cleanup with my best “I’ll dry later” grin.

But soon enough, the living room turned into our study hall. Pony sprawled across the couch, nose buried in his books. Johnny sat at the table, scribbling quietly while Sadie’s name kept sneaking into his notebook margins when he thought no one was looking. Soda was supposed to be working on math, but every other line he cracked a joke that made Cassie’s name pop up somehow, and Steve rolled his eyes so hard I thought they might stick.

Even Dally had his feet up, pretending not to care, though every once in a while he’d tap his pencil against the page like he actually might finish something for once.

Me? I mostly sat there cracking wise, tossing out answers when Pony started overthinking Shakespeare, or leaning over to bug Johnny until he smirked. Jenny had dropped a doodle on the back of one of my worksheets earlier, and I caught myself tracing it with my finger more times than I’d ever admit.

By the time the clock struck close to midnight, Darry herded us all off like we were a bunch of kids at summer camp.

“Homework done, lights out,” Darry said. “You’ve got school tomorrow. No excuses.”

We grumbled, of course, but the truth was, it felt… steady. Safe, even. Tulsa never gave us nights like this.

I flopped onto my bed, listening to the muffled sounds of the house settling, Soda humming under his breath, Pony turning a page, Darry double-checking the locks.

And for the first time in a while, I didn’t feel like we were just passing through.

I felt like we were home.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18

Steve’s POV

Morning at the Curtis house was its own kind of war zone. Pony was rushing around looking for his notebook, Soda was still half-asleep with his shirt on backwards, and Two-Bit was acting like tying a tie was rocket science. Johnny moved quietly through it all, steady as ever, and Dally leaned against the counter like he had all the time in the world.

Darry was already in his work boots, flipping through some papers with one hand and shoving toast at Soda with the other.

“Eat,” Darry ordered. “All of you. You’ll thank me later.”

I scarfed down bacon while dodging Pony’s elbow.

“Feels like we need a traffic light in this kitchen,” I muttered.

“Or a whistle,” Darry said, grabbing his lunch pail. “I’ll see you boys tonight. Don’t be late for school.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving us to the chaos.

The walk to school was cooler than usual, that kind of crisp morning air that wakes you up better than coffee. Lucas met us at the corner, hands shoved in his pockets, his expression thoughtful.

“Got some news,” he said, falling into step with us. “We got a voicemail at the house last night. Mom got an invitation to a cooking school in Italy. A couple of months' program.”

That made me slow a step.

“Italy?” I asked in surprise. “Like, pasta and pizza Italy?”

Lucas nodded.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “She hasn’t decided yet if she’s going.”

Soda whistled low.

“Man, that’s huge,” Soda said in awe. “Once-in-a-lifetime kind of deal.”

Pony frowned.

“But… that’d mean leaving you here, right?” Pony asked.

Lucas gave a small shrug.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “That’s the part she’s hung up on.”

Two-Bit nudged me with his elbow.

“Think she’d take us with her?” Two-Bit teased. “I look good in a gondola.”

That got the laugh it deserved, but underneath it all, I could feel the weight pressing down on Lucas. This wasn’t just about cooking school. It was about him and Karen and what they’d built together.
“Whatever she decides,” Johnny said quietly, “she’ll figure it out for the best. She always does.”

Lucas gave him a grateful look, but his eyes stayed troubled.

Tree Hill had a way of dropping bombs like this out of nowhere. And something told me this one was gonna change more than just Karen’s café schedule.

School was the same circus it always was, just with new acts. Word about Karen’s Italy offer hadn’t hit the hallways yet, but you could tell Lucas was carrying it like a stone in his pocket, heavy and unshakable.

Nathan, of course, found a hundred different ways to needle him. Snide remarks in the locker room, fake laughs with Tim, little digs about Lucas being “momma’s boy.” It was classic Nathan, loud enough for the whole hallway, sharp enough to sting.

Lucas held his ground, but you could see the cracks. Haley tried smoothing things over, bouncing between them, and even that seemed to feed Nathan more. Watching it, I couldn’t help but mutter to Soda.

“Kid’s got no off switch, does he?” I muttered in annoyance.

“None,” Soda said, shaking his head. “It’s like he breathes drama.”

Classes dragged. Pony got called on in English and went off about metaphors until half the room stopped listening. Johnny stuck close, quiet, but I saw Sadie slip him a note at lunch, and that gave him this small smile that lasted the rest of the day. Two-Bit doodled Jenny’s name on his math worksheet, and Dally just leaned back in his chair like school was a waiting room for real life.

By the final bell, we split like always, Pony, Johnny, Dal, and Two-Bit heading toward the café, me and Soda cutting across town toward Keith’s.

The shop smelled like oil and old steel, and it felt more like home than school ever did. Keith waved us in, grease already up his arms, and tossed Soda a rag.

“Got a Mustang in the back that needs some love,” Keith said with a grin. “Think you can handle it?”

Soda grinned.

“Born ready,” Soda said eagerly.

I slid under a Chevy with a wrench in hand, the clank and hum of tools filling the air. Keith worked beside us, humming off-key, giving tips without making it feel like a lecture. For a while, all the noise from school, the fights, the tutoring, the gossip, just faded out.

But every so often, I caught Soda drifting. He’d pause, wipe his hands, glance at the door like he expected Cassie to walk in. I didn’t tease him, not this time. We all had someone in Tree Hill pulling at us now.

By the time the sun dipped low, the workday ended with Keith tossing us each a cold soda from the fridge and a pat on the back.

“Good work, boys,” Keith said proudly. “You’re shaping up.”

Soda grinned, but I knew his mind was already back at the café, wondering what our side of the gang had gotten into.

Tree Hill days were like that now: school, work, girls, drama. Never quiet. Never simple. But for the first time in a long time, I didn’t mind.

By the time Soda and I made it home, the table was already set and the smell of Darry’s roast chicken filled the whole house. Pony, Johnny, Two-Bit, and Dal were just washing up, still in their café aprons, hair smelling like coffee and grease.

“Bout time you two showed,” Two-Bit cracked as he slid into his chair. “We were about to eat your share.”

“Try it and lose a hand,” Soda fired back, dropping into his spot.

Darry dished food out like he always did, steady and efficient, and once everyone had a plate in front of them, the chatter started up fast.

Pony leaned forward, eyes wide.

“So, Lucas told us this morning,” Pony said carefully. “Karen got an invitation to a cooking school in Italy. A couple of months long.”

Darry froze halfway through cutting his chicken.

“Italy?” Darry said in surprise. “That’s huge.”

Johnny nodded.

“Yeah, but she hasn’t decided if she’s going,” Johnny said with a shrug. “She doesn’t wanna leave Lucas behind.”

Dally smirked.

“Kid could handle himself,” Dally said with a smirk. “But still… that’s a big deal.”

“Once-in-a-lifetime kinda deal,” Soda added, serious for once. “She’d be crazy not to at least think about it.”

Darry let out a low whistle.

“Karen’s worked hard her whole life,” Darry said. “She deserves that chance. But yeah… I get why she’d hesitate.” He shook his head. “That’s heavy news.”

Two-Bit tried to cut the tension.

“I vote we all go with her,” Two-Bit joked. “I could rock a gondola.”

That got the laugh it deserved, and the conversation drifted to lighter things.

After dinner, we were clearing plates when the phone rang. Pony answered, then covered the receiver with his hand.

“It’s Lucas,” Pony said. “He wants us to meet him at the River Court. Says everyone’ll be there, the whole crew.”

Dal grinned, already pulling on his jacket.

“Now that’s more like it,” Dally said.

Darry sighed but grabbed his coat anyway.

“Alright,” Darry groaned. “Let’s go.”

We filed out into the cool night, bellies full, chatter spilling onto the street. And for once, the drama wasn’t weighing heavily; it felt more like we were headed right where we belonged.

The River Court lights glowed in the distance like a beacon. You could hear the sound of a ball hitting the pavement before we even turned the corner, voices carrying on the cool night air.

When we got there, the River Court gang was already scattered around: Mouth, Skills, Fergie, and Junk, all laughing and shooting around. Lucas was in the middle, dribbling slowly, lost in thought until he spotted us. Relief flickered across his face.

“Glad you guys made it,” Lucas said, passing the ball to Skills.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I told him. “Heard there’s free entertainment.”

Skills grinned.

“Entertainment?” Skill chirped. “More like education, man. We're about to school you.”

Two-Bit whooped, already stripping off his jacket like he was ready to join in. Pony and Johnny hung back at first, watching, but you could tell even they were itching to jump in. Dally lit a cigarette and leaned against the fence, eyes sharp but amused.

The game broke out quickly, half serious, half playful. Mouth called out commentary like it was ESPN. For a while, everything felt lighter, like the weight of school, Nathan, and all the drama slipped away under the glow of those streetlights. Just us, the ball, and the sound of sneakers on blacktop.

Lucas finally dropped onto the bench, sweaty and smiling despite himself. He looked around at all of us, the River Court crew, my gang from Tulsa, even Darry standing tall at the edge of the court.

“This,” Lucas said, almost to himself, “this feels right.”

And standing there, listening to the laughter, watching my friends blend into something bigger than just us, I couldn’t help but agree.

The game was breaking up when Lucas’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He jogged over to the bench, pulled it out, and answered. His face shifted in a heartbeat, confusion first, then alarm.

“Brooke?” Lucas asked in confusion. “Slow down, what happened?” His voice rose sharp enough to cut through the laughter on the court. “Where are you?”

The whole place went quiet. Lucas’s hand was gripping the phone so tight his knuckles went white. He listened, jaw tightening, then finally said, “I’m on my way. Just hang on.”

He shoved the phone in his pocket, already moving.

“It’s Peyton,” Lucas said grimly. “She’s at a frat party, and someone spiked her drink. She’s not waking up.”

The words hit like a gut punch. Darry was the first to move, stepping out of the shadows.

“We’re coming with you,” Darry said, matter-of-fact.

There wasn’t even a discussion; we all just fell in. Soda grabbed his jacket, Johnny’s face went pale, and Two-Bit muttered something under his breath that sounded more like a prayer than a joke. Dally tossed his cigarette aside, eyes flashing, and I could tell he was ready to burn the whole damn frat house down if he had to.

The ride there felt like it took forever. Lucas drove like his life depended on it, and maybe it did. Darry sat up front, steadying him, while the rest of us crammed in back, tense and silent. The only sound was the hum of the engine and Soda whispering, “She’s gonna be okay,” as if he said it enough times, it’d be true.

When we pulled up, Brooke was outside, pacing, her makeup streaked from crying. The music from the party pounded through the walls, kids spilling out onto the lawn, drunk and laughing like nothing was wrong.

She ran to Lucas the second he stepped out.

“She won’t wake up!” Brooke shrieked. “I don’t know what to do!”

Darry took charge instantly, his voice calm but firm.

“Show us where she is,” Darry said.

Inside, the house was a blur of flashing lights and spilled beer, but none of it mattered. We pushed through, Brooke leading the way up the stairs, until we found Peyton sprawled out on a bed, pale, her breath shallow.

For a second, the world stopped.

“Call 911,” Darry ordered. “Now.”

Lucas was already dialing, voice shaking but steady enough to tell them what happened. Johnny hovered near the door, watching the hall like he was ready to fight off anyone who came close. Two-Bit stayed at Peyton’s side, muttering, “C’mon, cheerleader, wake up,” over and over.

I stood by the window, fists clenched, wishing I could track down whoever did this and make them regret ever setting foot in Tree Hill.

When the sirens finally cut through the night, it felt like air rushing back into our lungs. Paramedics stormed in, taking over, lifting Peyton carefully as Brooke clung to her hand.

Lucas followed them out, jaw tight, eyes burning.

“I’m going with her,” Lucas said.

“Then we’re going too,” Darry said.

No one argued. We weren’t about to let him face this alone.

Lucas was gripping the steering wheel so tight I thought it might crack. Brooke sat beside him, wringing her hands, whispering Peyton’s name like a chant. Darry kept his voice steady from the passenger seat, reminding Lucas to keep his eyes on the road.

When we pulled up, the ambulance doors swung open, and the paramedics rushed Peyton inside. Brooke tried to follow but stumbled, and Soda caught her before she hit the pavement.

“Easy,” Soda said, guiding her in.

The ER smelled like bleach and nerves. The bright lights hit us as we piled into the waiting room, still buzzing with leftover adrenaline. Peyton disappeared behind swinging doors, Brooke pacing like she might wear a hole in the tile.

Lucas dropped into a chair, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. For once, he looked less like the calm, collected kid and more like a boy in over his head.

I sat down next to him.

“She’s tough, man,” I said. “She’ll pull through.”

He gave me a look, grateful but tired, like he wanted to believe it but couldn’t let himself yet.

Dally paced the room like a caged animal, jaw set.

“If I find the guy who did this…” Dally didn’t finish, but we all knew. Roxy would probably help him, too.

Johnny sat close to the wall, quiet but watchful. Pony leaned against the counter, notebook clutched tight in his hands like writing it down might make sense of it.

Two-Bit tried a weak joke about hospital vending machines, but even he couldn’t muster a smile. Jenny’s face flashed across his mind, I could tell, the thought of her in Peyton’s place, hitting him hard.
After what felt like hours, a doctor finally came out.

“She’s stable,” The doctor said. Relief swept through the room like a wave. “She’ll be monitored overnight, but she’s going to be okay.”

Brooke broke down, crying into Haley’s arms. She’d arrived halfway through, breathless and worried. Lucas closed his eyes, shoulders sagging like someone had lifted a hundred pounds off him.
Darry nodded, relief plain but measured.

“Good,” Darry said. “That’s good.”

We stuck around until Peyton was moved to a room. Brooke stayed glued to her side, whispering apologies and promises. Lucas lingered by the doorway, Haley hovering near him, the tension between them and Nathan hanging in the air even here.

Finally, Darry stepped in.

“We should let them rest,” Darry said with a sigh. “We’ll check back tomorrow.”

None of us wanted to leave, but he was right. We’d done what we could tonight. Peyton was safe. That had to be enough.

As we filed out of the hospital into the cool night air, I couldn’t shake the thought: Tree Hill wasn’t Tulsa. But danger still found its way in. And when it did, we’d face it the same way we always had, together.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19

Dally’s POV

Morning came too fast. My head was still buzzing from the mess last night with Peyton. I wasn’t the type to lose sleep over much, but seeing a girl get drugged like that… it made me sick. Reminded me of all the ways the world could still chew you up, no matter how tough you thought you were.

Our house was already in chaos. Darry clanged pans around the kitchen, trying to get breakfast on the table before heading out to his construction job. Soda was bouncing around, grabbing toast and cracking jokes, even though he looked just as tired as the rest of us. Steve was trying to borrow my jacket without asking. Pony stumbled in with his hair sticking up like he’d wrestled with the pillow all night. Two-Bit came last, carrying his usual grin and a Pop-Tart he’d probably stolen. Johnny just sat quietly at the table, pushing eggs around his plate, still shaken from everything.

“Eat fast,” Darry warned us, slipping on his work boots. “I’m already running late. And you better not be late to school either.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, grabbing a piece of bacon before Soda could swipe it.

We scarfed down breakfast, the talk drifting to school and the game drama. Darry leaned against the counter with his coffee.

“You boys good?” Darry asked. His eyes landed on Johnny a little longer, like he could see the worry sitting in the kid’s chest. Johnny gave him a small nod, not much, but enough to get Darry moving again.

Soon, Darry was out the door, calling back over his shoulder, “Lock up when you leave!”

The rest of us scrambled to get ready. I threw on my leather jacket, Johnny stuck to his old denim, Pony fumbled with his books, and Two-Bit carried that damn Mickey Mouse keychain like it was holy. Soda and Steve roughhoused their way out the door, still arguing about who was late more often.

On the walk to school, we spotted Lucas up ahead, waiting for us at the corner. He looked beat, but when we caught up, he gave a half-smile.

“Rough night,” Lucas mumbled.

“No kidding,” I said. “Tree Hill’s got more drama than Tulsa ever did.”

Lucas let out a short laugh. Then his face got serious.

“Hey, thanks for coming last night,” Lucas said sheepishly. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you guys.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Soda said. “That’s what we do.”

The school bell rang in the distance, and we picked up the pace. Another day in Tree Hill, same halls, same stares, and now, fresh gossip about Peyton and the party. I could already feel the whispers buzzing before we even hit the front doors.

If there’s one thing I learned quickly about Tree Hill, it’s that gossip travels faster than any car I’ve ever boosted. By the time we walked into school, the Peyton story was already everywhere. Whispers in the hallway, heads turning, kids leaning into lockers to trade details.

“She almost OD’d...”

“No, someone spiked her drink…”

“Brooke had to call Lucas…”

Half of it wasn’t true, but that never stopped people from running their mouths.

And then there she was, Peyton Sawyer herself. Walking down the hall with her head high, like daring anyone to say something to her face. Still pale, sure, but tough as nails. I had to respect it. The girl had just been through hell, and she was back like nothing could knock her down.

Nathan froze when he saw her, like he didn’t know what to say. Peyton didn’t even glance at him. Just walked right past, shoulders straight, curls bouncing. The hallway went quiet for half a second before the buzz kicked up again.

I leaned against the lockers, smirking. “That girl’s got more guts than half this school.”

Johnny nodded next to me. “Yeah. She does.”

Classes dragged. Pony kept sneaking looks at Elena across the room, scribbling in his notebook more than he paid attention to the teacher. Johnny sat through math like he wasn’t even there until Sadie slipped him a folded note, and suddenly his whole face lit up. Two-Bit cracked a joke in history that nearly got him detention, but Jenny’s laugh from two rows back saved him.

Me? I just sat there, chewing on a pen cap, wondering why the hell I cared about high school gossip in the first place. Tree Hill was getting under my skin.

By the last bell, the whispers hadn’t slowed. Peyton was still the headline, Lucas was still tangled up in it, and Haley was right in the middle because of Nathan: same storm, different day.

After school, we split again. Soda and Steve headed toward Keith’s shop, already talking cars and greasy hands like that was heaven. The rest of us, me, Johnny, Pony, and Two-Bit, headed to the café.
Karen looked tired when we walked in, but she gave us that smile anyway, the kind that made the place feel steady.

“You boys ready to work?” Karen asked.

“Always,” I said, though I tossed my apron on like it weighed fifty pounds.

The café was filled with the usual crowd: students, parents, and the random straggler who wanted coffee at all hours. Pony disappeared into his notebooks whenever it slowed. Johnny kept quiet but steady on the dishes, and Two-Bit made Jenny laugh every time she stopped by. Me? I leaned against the counter, watching the door, waiting for the next storm to walk in.

Because in Tree Hill, there was always a next storm.

The café hit that quiet stretch between the after-school rush and the dinner crowd. Pony was wiping down tables, Two-Bit was sneaking a cookie from the display case, and Johnny was up to his elbows in soap suds. Me? I leaned against the counter, flipping a coffee cup in my hands, pretending to be busy.

That’s when she walked in, Deb Scott. All calm grace, like she owned the room just by stepping into it. She smiled at Karen, and for once, Karen actually seemed to relax.
“Hey,” Deb said softly, sliding into a booth. “Got a minute?”

Karen sat down across from her, looking half-curious, half-guarded.

“Sure,” Karen said reluctantly. “What’s up?”

We tried not to eavesdrop, but c’mon, it’s a small café, and Two-Bit doesn’t know how to whisper to save his life.

Deb leaned forward.

“I’ve been thinking about Italy,” Deb said. “That cooking program, you should go. You’ve earned it, Karen.”

Karen shook her head, tired eyes dropping to the table.

“I can’t just leave everything behind,” Karen said. “The café, Lucas…”

Deb reached across, covering her hand.

“You can,” Deb insisted. “And if you’re worried about the café, let me handle it. I’ll take care of it while you’re gone. That’s what friends do.”

The word “friends” hung in the air like something brand new. Karen blinked, like she wasn’t used to anyone offering her backup.

“Guess not all Scotts are bad,” Johnny muttered, just low enough for us to hear.

I snorted.

“Don’t push your luck, kid,” I grumbled.

Karen’s smile was small, but it looked real when she finally said, “Thanks, Deb. I’ll think about it.”

Not long after, the bell above the door jingled again. Lucas walked in, hair mussed, that River Court tiredness written all over him. He gave us all a nod before heading to the counter.

“You guys off soon?” Lucas asked.

“Another half hour,” I said, checking the clock. “Why?”

He leaned on the counter, lowering his voice just enough.

“Meet me at the River Court after. Bring Darry, Soda, Steve, all of you,” Lucas said. “I need my people there tonight.”

The way he said it, “my people”, it landed heavier than he probably meant it to. Pony’s eyes lit up, Johnny straightened, and even Two-Bit cut the clown act for a second.

“Yeah,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’ll be there.”

He smiled, a little crooked, and headed back out into the night.

The café never felt smaller than it did after that. Because the truth was, the world outside was waiting, and the River Court was calling.

The shift wound down easily. Pony stacked chairs, Johnny flipped the sign to closed, and Two-Bit kept sweeping until Karen finally had to tell him the floor was clean enough. By the time we filed out into the cool night air, the streets had gone quiet.

We met up with Soda and Steve outside Keith’s shop, grease still streaked across their hands, and then headed toward the River Court. Darry joined us halfway there, his work boots heavy against the pavement. He didn’t say much, just gave us that nod that meant he was glad we were sticking together.

The River Court lights glowed against the dark, the chain nets clanging when someone missed a shot. Lucas was already out there, along with Skills, Mouth, Fergie, and Junk. The ball echoed sharply against the cracked asphalt.

“About time you showed up,” Lucas called, passing the ball to Skills.

“Had to make sure the café didn’t burn down,” I said, shoving my hands in my jacket pockets.

Two-Bit piped up, grinning wide, “That was all Johnny. Kid’s a menace with dish soap.”

Johnny rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

We settled along the sidelines while the River Court gang kept up their game. Every so often, Lucas would motion one of us in, and soon enough Pony and Soda were running the court too, laughing like they’d been part of it their whole lives. Even Darry loosened up, trading his workday weight for a couple of solid rebounds.

It felt good, like we belonged here.

Then the headlights cut across the cracked pavement, and everyone froze for a second. A small light blue VW Beetle rolled up, engine purring softly as it came to a stop near the fence. The driver’s door swung open, and Brooke Davis stepped out.

Hair perfect, smile sharp, the kind of girl who made heads turn without even trying. She leaned against the car like she owned the night.

“Hey, Lucas,” Brooke called, voice teasing, playful.

The ball bounced away as Lucas froze up, caught off guard.

Beside me, Two-Bit let out a low whistle.

“Well, would you look at that,” Two-Bit teased. “Tree Hill just keeps gettin’ more interesting.”

I smirked, lighting up a cigarette.

“Kid’s in for it now,” I said.

Lucas shoved his hands into his pockets, looking equal parts curious and nervous as he walked toward her. The rest of us just watched, the River Court quieting like the scene belonged to them.

And maybe it did.

The night slipped into one of those quiet stretches where everything felt slowed down, like the world was holding its breath. That’s when the montage of life in Tree Hill started to play out around us, bits and pieces that told you things were changing, whether you wanted them to or not.

Karen stood in the kitchen of the café, lights low, apron folded neatly on the counter. For a long second, she just stared at the empty room like she was memorizing it. Then she pulled her phone out and made the call, the one that sealed it. She was going to Italy.

Cut to Keith, who carried her bags through the airport, the weight of them nothing compared to the weight on his face. Karen leaned up, kissed his cheek, grateful, heavy, complicated. He watched her go until she disappeared past security, and I swear, even from the distance of that moment, you could feel his heart breaking.

Back in town, Deb slipped into the café, keys jangling as she unlocked the door. She tied on an apron like it was second nature, flipping the sign to open even though the sun wasn’t up yet. She moved around the place with quiet confidence, settling into the role Karen had just left behind.

Meanwhile, Lucas sat on the edge of his bed, still dressed from the River Court, staring at the phone in his hand. The light from the screen lit up his face, but whatever message he was reading, or waiting for, stayed his alone.

The gang had our own part of the montage. Pony was stretched out at his desk, scribbling in a notebook with Ellie’s sketchbook propped beside him, their ideas bleeding across the page like they were already building something together. Johnny sat on the porch steps with Sadie, both of them bundled in hoodies, passing a can of soda back and forth while they talked about nothing and everything. Two-Bit and Jenny were laughing too loudly in the kitchen, trying to sneak cookies before Darry caught them.

And me? I was leaning against the side of the Curtis house, smoke curling up into the night, while Roxy flicked her lighter beside me, daring me with that look of hers. She didn’t say much, didn’t have to. Just being there was enough.

Inside, Darry stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, glancing toward the table where Soda was bent over homework with Cassie cheering him on, while Steve argued with Tara about music. For once, Darry’s shoulders eased, like maybe he believed this crazy new life in Tree Hill could actually work.

And under it all, the River Court stayed lit in my head. The sound of the ball hitting pavement, the chains rattling, Brooke’s smile flashing in the glow of her headlights. It was like all of us, Tree Hill, the gang, everyone, were caught in the middle of something bigger.

Something is just getting started.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20

Johnny’s POV

Morning light crept through the blinds, slicing across the Curtis house in thin, sharp lines. I was already awake, sitting at the kitchen table with a half-eaten piece of toast, when the rest of the guys started piling in, one by one.

Darry was moving fast, already dressed for work, coffee mug in hand. He kept barking reminders: “Eat something,” “Don’t forget your books,” “Lock the door after you leave.” Soda was bouncing around with that nervous energy of his, trying to find his other shoe. Steve sat across from me, yawning loud enough to rattle the dishes.

Two-Bit was the last to come in, Mickey Mouse keychain swinging from his fingers, grin wide like he hadn’t a care in the world. Pony had his notebook tucked under his arm, his eyes distant, like he was already somewhere else, probably thinking about Ellie.

It should’ve felt normal, but it didn’t. Karen’s decision to go to Italy hung heavy over breakfast, even if no one said it out loud. The café was changing, and with it, maybe everything else.

Darry finished his coffee and headed for the door, glancing back at us.

“Don’t be late,” Darry called. “I mean it.” Then he was gone, boots echoing down the steps.

The house went quiet for a beat before Soda clapped his hands.

“Alright, let’s move out before Darry comes back and drags us there himself,” Soda teased.

So we did, out into the cool morning, backpacks slung, heading toward school together.

Up ahead, we spotted Lucas and Haley already walking, their conversation easy, full of inside jokes. You could tell they’d been best friends forever. Lucas looked lighter than he had in days, like the River Court and Brooke’s surprise visit had put something back in him.

“Hey,” Lucas called as we caught up. “You guys hear about tonight?”

“What about it?” Two-Bit asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The Ravens have a big game,” Lucas said, smirking like he knew exactly how big. “And trust me, you’re gonna want to be there.”

I didn’t know what he meant yet. But I had the feeling by the end of the day, we all would.

By the time we hit the school steps, you could feel it in the air—Tree Hill was buzzing. The whispers weren’t about Peyton this time, or the last game, but about Karen leaving for Italy. Word spread fast. Half the kids acted like it was some scandal, others like it was the most glamorous thing they’d ever heard.

Peyton walked in, books hugged tight to her chest, her curls hiding her face. She didn’t look at Brooke when they passed in the hall. Brooke, on the other hand, tossed her hair and laughed too loudly with her friends, trying to make it seem like she wasn’t bothered. But you could see it, something cracked between them.

“They used to be tight, huh?” Pony murmured as he leaned towards me.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Looks different now.”

In English, the tension only got thicker. Brooke shot snide comments across the room, Peyton rolled her eyes, and Lucas kept sneaking looks at Peyton like he couldn’t help himself. Two-Bit scribbled some dumb cartoon in his notebook of Mickey Mouse refereeing a catfight, and I had to choke back a laugh.

Meanwhile, Nathan strutted through the halls like he owned the place, tossing smirks at Haley every chance he got. And the weird thing? She wasn’t brushing him off anymore. They’d started this tutoring deal, and you could tell he was actually trying. Still cocky, still Nathan, but softer around the edges when she was near.

At lunch, we sat with Lucas and Haley. Soda kept cracking jokes to keep things light, but even he noticed the shift. Haley excused herself to talk to Nathan, and Steve leaned in.

“So when do we start taking bets?” Steve asked. “Because those two are heading somewhere.”

“Leave ‘em alone,” I said, though I couldn’t help smirking. “She knows what she’s doing.”

The rest of the day dragged, whispers trailing us in every hallway, about the game tonight, about Karen, about Peyton and Brooke’s crumbling friendship. By the final bell, Tree Hill High felt like it was wound tight, waiting for something to snap.

And maybe it would, on or off the court.

The last bell rang, and kids poured out of Tree Hill High like water out of a busted pipe. We were halfway down the hall, heading for the doors, when Pony nudged me.

“Look,” Pony whispered.

Through the glass of the tutoring center, we saw Nathan and Haley. She was mid-laugh, brushing hair out of her face, and he leaned in, just like that, and kissed her.

The whole gang froze.

Two-Bit let out a low whistle.

“Well, hell,” Two-Bit said. “Didn’t think he had it in him.”

Soda grinned like Christmas came early.

“Knew it,” Soda said. “Knew he was falling for her.”

Steve crossed his arms, shaking his head.

“Or he’s playing her,” Steve. “You don’t just flip a switch like that.”

I didn’t say anything. Haley looked shocked, sure, but she didn’t exactly push him away either. Whatever was happening there, it was real enough to change things.

Darry’s voice echoed in my head: Don’t get mixed up in drama that ain’t yours. But in Tree Hill, drama had a way of dragging everyone in, whether you wanted it or not.

We left the school split up, like usual. Soda and Steve headed toward Keith’s auto shop, already bickering about whose job was dirtier. The rest of us, me, Pony, Dally, and Two-Bit, made our way to the café.

Karen wasn’t there, of course, but Deb held down the counter with a smile that was too easy for a woman carrying so much. She waved us in.

“Aprons on, boys,” Deb said. “Let’s make this place sing.”

It was busy for a Tuesday. A line of customers kept Pony running between tables, his notebook stuffed under the counter where he could grab it during slow stretches. Two-Bit cracked jokes at the register, making Jenny laugh every time she passed by. Dally leaned against the back counter, tossing sarcastic comments at anyone who lingered too long, and somehow it worked; people liked him.
Me? I stuck close to the dishwasher, hands wet, head turning every time the bell above the door chimed. Because in Tree Hill, every face walking in carried a new story.

By the time the dinner rush slowed, the weight of the day had caught up to me. Peyton and Brooke’s silence, Nathan and Haley’s kiss, Karen going to Italy, all of it pressed down. The game tonight loomed over everything, but I knew the real battles weren’t just on the court.

By the time our shifts ended, the sun was sliding low, throwing long shadows across Tree Hill. Soda and Steve caught up with us on the walk home, still smelling like motor oil, grinning like they’d run the whole shop themselves.

When we pushed into the Curtis house, the smell of Darry’s cooking hit us, something hearty and filling, like always. He was at the stove, sleeves rolled up, focused like a man on a mission.

“Wash up,” Darry called. “Dinner’s ready.”

We crowded around the table, plates loaded, and it didn’t take long before the day’s stories started flying.

Two-Bit kicked it off, waving his fork.

“So, you’re never gonna guess what Lucas did,” Two-Bit said. “Got himself a tattoo.”

Darry looked up from his plate, brows raised.

“A tattoo?” Darry asked. “He’s sixteen.”

“Yeah, and apparently didn’t think that mattered,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Haley was there too, she tried to talk him out of it, but Lucas being Lucas…”

“Crazy kid,” Soda said, though he was grinning. “Bet it’s something dramatic. Like a raven or some quote from a book.”

“Or Brooke’s name,” Two-Bit added, and everyone cracked up.

The laughter eased, and then Soda leaned in, lowering his voice.

“You guys hear about what went down at the café today?” Soda asked. “Dan showed up, all puffed up, and cornered Deb right in front of everyone. Asked her why she was spending time here instead of at home.”

Darry’s jaw tightened.

“Figures,” Darry grumbled. “Man can’t keep his nose out of anything.”

Pony tapped his notebook against the table.

“Deb didn’t back down, though,” Pony said. “She told him straight, it’s her choice, not his.”

That earned a round of approving nods. Deb was earning respect from the gang quickly.

“And then there’s Nathan,” I added. The whole table quieted a little, waiting. “We saw him kiss Haley in the tutoring center.”

Soda nearly dropped his fork.

“No kidding?” Soda said.

“Nope,” I said. “She didn’t shove him off, either.”

Darry sighed, rubbing his temples.

“That’s gonna get messy,” Darry grumbled.

Two-Bit leaned back in his chair, grinning like a fox.

“Messy’s half the fun,” Two-Bit joked.

The room filled with chatter again, Pony asking if Ellie had heard about Peyton and Brooke fighting, Steve grumbling that tattoos were dumb unless they meant something, Soda throwing in jokes to keep it light. But under it all, I could feel it, the sense that things were shifting, fast.

Tree Hill wasn’t just a new town anymore. It was pulling us into its storms, one by one.
And tonight, the game was only gonna stir the pot more.

The gym was buzzing when we walked in, the kind of energy that made your chest vibrate. Tree Hill turned out for Ravens games like it was the only show in town, and maybe it was. Cheerleaders in blue and white lined the sidelines, the band played loud enough to rattle the bleachers, and the whole place smelled like popcorn and sweat.

We found seats together, Darry, Soda, Steve, Two-Bit, Dally, Pony, and me, all lined up in the bleachers. Darry sat with his arms crossed, eyes sharp, already studying the game like he was scouting construction workers. Soda was bouncing, clapping along with the crowd. Two-Bit tried stealing peanuts from a kid behind us until Darry swatted him.

On the court, Lucas was warming up with his usual steady focus, but Nathan looked wired, restless. His moves were sharper, faster, almost jittery. The game kicked off, and at first, it looked like the Ravens were unstoppable. Nathan was everywhere, scoring, stealing, flying up and down the court like he couldn’t burn out.

But something felt off.

“Kid’s pushing too hard,” Darry muttered. “Ain’t natural.”

He was right. Halfway through the second half, Nathan started missing shots, clutching at his side like he couldn’t catch his breath. Sweat poured down his face, and his hands shook every time he dribbled.

Then it happened, he stumbled, tried to push through, and collapsed right there on the hardwood.

The whole gym went silent.

Peyton and Brooke jumped to their feet on the sidelines. Whitey blew his whistle, shouting for time. Dan stormed out of the stands, fury and fear written all over his face. Lucas froze for half a second, then was at Nathan’s side with the rest of the team.

Soda sucked in a sharp breath.

“Holy hell…” Soda muttered.

“Something’s wrong with him,” Pony whispered, eyes wide.

My stomach twisted. I’d seen guys overdose before; Tulsa wasn’t kind about that stuff, and Nathan had the same look. The wild energy, the crash, the body giving up on him.

Paramedics rushed to the court, checking his vitals, lifting him onto a stretcher. The crowd buzzed again, but it wasn’t excitement anymore; it was fear.

“Tree Hill High’s got more drama in one night than Tulsa had in a year,” Two-Bit muttered.

Darry’s face was grim.

“Come on,” Darry said darkly. “Let’s stay close. Lucas is gonna need us.”

And as we followed the chaos spilling out of the gym, one thing was clear: this wasn’t just another game. This was something bigger, and it was gonna change everything for the Scotts, and maybe for all of us, too.

The ride to the hospital felt too familiar, the same sirens, the same flashing lights. First Peyton, now Nathan. Tree Hill had a way of dragging us into ER waiting rooms more than we ever wanted.

We crowded into the lobby, the gang sticking close while Dan paced like a caged animal. His jaw was clenched so tight I thought he’d break his teeth. Deb was right there too, her face pale, hands twisting together. When the doctor finally came out, the whole room went quiet.

“He’s stable,” the doctor said. “It looks like Nathan reacted to performance enhancers. His system was under a lot of stress, but he’s resting now.”

Deb sagged with relief, covering her face with her hands. Dan just stood there, stone cold, but his eyes gave him away. He cared more than he wanted anyone to see.

Lucas hovered nearby, torn between relief and anger. You could tell he wanted to storm into that room and rip into Nathan, but at the same time, he couldn’t leave his brother like that.

“This town doesn’t need TV,” Soda whispered as he leaned over to me. “Just pull up a chair in the ER and the show comes to you.”

“Not funny,” Darry muttered, though his eyes stayed on Lucas.

Eventually, Deb was allowed back to see Nathan. Dan followed, though not before snapping at Lucas, “This is what happens when you push him too hard.”

Lucas just stared back, jaw tight, not saying a word.

Pony scribbled something in his notebook while the rest of us sat there, restless. I didn’t know what he was writing, but I figured it had to do with brothers, how they can hate each other and still show up when it counts.

Hours passed in that sterile waiting room. Two-Bit tried to lighten the mood, Steve flipped through an old magazine, Soda kept fidgeting, and Darry stood tall like he was holding us all together by sheer will.

When Deb finally came back out, she gave us a tired smile.

“He’s asking for Lucas,” Deb said.

So Lucas went in, shoulders squared, like he was carrying the whole weight of this mess.

I leaned back in the stiff plastic chair, watching it all unfold. Tree Hill wasn’t Tulsa, but maybe it didn’t matter. Trouble found you wherever you went. And somehow, we always ended up right in the middle of it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21

Pony’s POV

The morning light slanted through the blinds at the Curtis house, casting long lines across the kitchen table where Darry was already drinking his coffee. He looked like he’d been up for hours, work shirt clean, hair still damp from a quick shower. Soda shuffled in right after me, yawning so wide I thought his jaw might pop.

“Eat quickly,” Darry said without looking up. “I’ve got an early shift, and you boys have school. Don’t be late.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Soda grumbled, snagging toast.

Johnny came down with his usual quiet steps, Dally trailing behind him with that scowl that meant he wasn’t ready for the day. Steve and Two-Bit were arguing about something dumb, probably who got the bathroom first, and the whole house felt alive in that way it always did before we scattered.

But even under the noise, last night lingered. The hospital. Nathan collapsing. Lucas’s face was tight with worry. None of us had slept easily.
I pushed my cereal around the bowl, finally blurting it:

“Do you think Nathan’s okay?” I asked.

Darry glanced at me, then back at his coffee.

“He’ll live,” Darry said. “But maybe now he’ll think twice about what he’s puttin’ in his body.”

Soda sighed, softer than usual.

“Kids are under pressure, though,” Soda said. “You can see it. The whole town expects him to be perfect.”

Dally snorted.

“Yeah, well, pressure’s no excuse for being an ass,” Dally said.

Nobody argued with that.

We left the house in a pack, the way we always did, walking down toward school. But this time, Lucas wasn’t waiting alone. Brooke was there with him, standing at his side like it was the most natural thing in the world. She was dressed as sharp as always, hair perfect, and in her hands, two cups of coffee. She handed one to Lucas with a grin, her voice carrying even from a few feet away.

“Figured you could use a pick-me-up after last night,” Brooke said sweetly.

Lucas gave her a sheepish smile, taking the cup. He looked tired, with shadows under his eyes, but lighter too, like Brooke’s energy was enough to hold him up.

“Morning,” Lucas called as we caught up.

“Morning,” Soda answered easily. “How’s your brother?”

Lucas’s mouth tightened.

“Recovering,” Lucas said wearily. “Coach Whitey’s not happy. Neither’s Dan. And his mom…” He broke off, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s just say it’s been a long night.”

Brooke nudged him playfully.

“But he’s here,” Brooke said. “That’s what matters. Right?”

We fell quiet for a minute, the river glittering on our left as we walked. Tree Hill looked the same as yesterday, but it didn’t feel the same. There was weight in the air, like the whole town was holding its breath.

By the time we hit the steps of Tree Hill High, you could hear the whispers already. Kids talking in low voices about Nathan, about steroids, about what had happened on the court.

Haley rushed up to us, her books clutched tight against her chest.

“He’s back at school today,” Haley said quickly, glancing toward the parking lot. “Don’t know if that’s brave or stupid, but he’s here.”

I followed her gaze, and sure enough, Nathan Scott was climbing out of his SUV. He looked thinner somehow, weaker, but his chin was up, defiant as ever. Peyton was nearby, her arms crossed, while Brooke slipped closer to Lucas, looping her arm through his without hesitation.

Lucas stiffened beside me, and I could feel the tension rolling off him.

“Another day in Tree Hill,” Two-Bit muttered. “And we thought Tulsa was dramatic.”

I almost laughed, but my stomach twisted instead. Inside Tree Hill High, the buzz of morning chatter echoed through the halls—lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking on tile, kids swapping gossip like it was currency.

Brooke peeled off as soon as we walked in, kissing Lucas on the cheek before heading toward the cheer squad.

“See you later, boyfriend,” Brooke said with a wink, leaving a trail of perfume and stares in her wake.

Lucas stood there for a second, rubbing at his neck like he wasn’t sure what just happened. Haley wasn’t impressed. She shifted her books higher in her arms, her face tight.
“Really?” Haley asked him.

Lucas blinked.

“What?” Luas asked, oblivious.

Because I had a feeling this was just the start of it.
And I wasn’t sure any of us were ready.

“Brooke,” Haley said flatly. “This whole thing.”

Lucas let out a breath, already defensive.

“What do you want me to say, Hales?” Lucas asked. “Peyton told me she didn’t want to start anything. Her words.”

Haley stopped in the middle of the hallway, glaring at him.

“She took it back, Lucas,” Haley argued. “She said she didn’t mean it. But you…” She gestured toward where Brooke had gone. “You didn’t even give her the chance to explain.”

Lucas’s jaw clenched.

“Because Peyton’s… she’s difficult, okay?” Lucas spluttered. “She runs hot and cold. One minute she’s in, the next she’s out. I can’t keep chasing that.”

Haley shook her head, hurt and frustrated all at once.

“Or maybe you just didn’t want to wait,” Haley said. “Maybe Brooke was easier.”

The words hung in the air like a slap. Lucas didn’t fire back, but his silence was answer enough. Haley huffed, turning away, disappearing into the tutoring center without another word.

The rest of us stood there, caught in the fallout. Two-Bit raised his brows at me, mouthing yikes. Soda let out a low whistle, and Johnny shifted awkwardly, like he wished he were anywhere else.

I hugged my notebook closer to my chest, feeling that same twist in my stomach I always did when people’s hearts got tangled up. Tree Hill wasn’t Tulsa, but pain was pain. And watching Lucas and Haley, their friendship fraying right in front of us, made me wonder just how many cracks this town could handle before something finally broke.

The day rolled on with that heavy kind of tension you couldn’t shake. It was in the way kids whispered in clusters by their lockers, in the side-eyes Nathan got every time he walked past, in the way the gym doors stayed locked with a paper sign taped up:

“Basketball practice canceled until further notice. – Coach Durham”

Word spread like wildfire. Some kids said Whitey was punishing the whole team, others that he was making an example of Nathan. Either way, the Ravens weren’t hitting the court anytime soon.
Two-Bit leaned against his locker, smirking.

“Guess Tree Hill’s got more time for soap operas now,” Two-Bit joked.

“More like rehab sessions,” Dally muttered, brushing past him.

Nathan tried to walk the halls like he was still king, but the swagger wasn’t the same. His shoulders hunched a little lower, his eyes darted a little quicker. People gave him space, but it wasn’t respect this time; it was judgment.

And then there was Haley.

She kept her distance, but not enough that people didn’t notice. The way her eyes lingered on him in math class. The way Nathan slipped her a note during study hall. The way her cheeks went pink when she read it.

Johnny nudged me at lunch.

“You see that?” Johnny murmured.

“Yeah,” I whispered back. “They’re trying to hide it.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Not doing a great job of it,” Steve grumbled.

Soda grinned.

“Give ‘em a break,” Soda said. “It’s kinda sweet.”

I wasn’t so sure “sweet” was the word. Dangerous, maybe. Complicated, definitely. But sweet? That wasn’t how it looked on Haley’s face when she caught Nathan watching her and tried to pretend she didn’t like it.

Meanwhile, Peyton floated through the day like a ghost. She barely spoke, sketchbook clutched tight against her chest. Brooke tried to act like nothing was wrong, all big smiles and pep rally chatter, but everyone could feel the wall between them.

By the last bell, the whole school felt wound up, like a storm was waiting just out of sight. Practice canceled, friendships cracking, secrets getting heavier by the day.

Tree Hill was supposed to be just another town, but walking out of those doors, I had this feeling, like we were standing right on the edge of something big. And nobody knew which way it was gonna break.

After the final bell rang, we split up like usual, Soda and Steve heading toward Keith’s auto shop, the rest of us cutting over to the café. The late afternoon sun stretched shadows across the sidewalks, and I found myself glad for the rhythm of it all. School might’ve been buzzing with gossip, but work… work felt steady.

Inside Karen’s, the place was quieter than usual. A couple of college kids lingered at a corner booth with their laptops, but the lunch crowd was long gone. Deb was behind the counter, wiping it down with the kind of focused energy that looked more like worry.

“Slow today,” Deb sighed, setting the rag aside. “Feels like it’s been slow for a while.”

Johnny glanced up from rearranging chairs.

“Maybe people are just busy?” Johnny asked.

Deb forced a small smile, but I could see it in her eyes; she thought it was her.

“Sometimes I wonder if business dropped off because of me,” Deb said. “I mean… Karen had her way with this place. Folks trusted her.”

Haley, stacking mugs, shook her head firmly.

“It’s not you, Deb,” Haley said reassuringly. “University’s on break. That’s half the café’s traffic. It’ll pick up again once classes start back.”

Deb nodded, though she didn’t look entirely convinced.

That’s when Haley perked up with an idea.

“What if we hosted an open-mic night?” Haley asked, eagerly. “Something to get people coming back in, give the café a little buzz again.”

Deb’s eyes widened, a nervous laugh slipping out.

“An open-mic night?” Deb asked nervously. “That sounds… big. I don’t know, Haley.”

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Haley said gently. “Maybe run it by Lucas first? He’s got good instincts for this place.”

Deb’s expression softened.

“I was actually hoping to talk to him myself,” Deb said. “Haven’t seen him around here in a while.”

That landed heavily in the air. Lucas had been wrapped up in basketball, Brooke, and all the storm that came with it. Even I noticed how his shadow had been missing from these walls.

Haley nodded, setting her mug down.

“You can talk to him,” Haley said. “He’d like that.”

A minute later, Haley grabbed her bag.

“I’ve gotta run, tutoring session,” Haley said.

She didn’t have to say who. Everyone knew.

Deb’s face brightened just a little.

“With Nathan?” Deb asked.

Haley hesitated, then nodded.

Deb smiled, softer this time, almost relieved.

“Good,” Deb said. “I’m glad you’re seeing him. He needs someone steady in his life right now.”

Haley ducked her head and hurried out, leaving Deb to watch after her with this hopeful look that made me wonder just how much she knew about Nathan’s mess.

I leaned back against the counter, wiping my hands on a rag. The café was quiet again, but there was this hum in the air, like we were standing in the middle of a story that wasn’t finished yet.

And if Tree Hill had taught me anything, it was that stories like this never stayed quiet for long.

By the time our shift wrapped, I was ready to get home. The café had been quiet the rest of the evening, just a few stragglers coming in for coffee to-go. Deb locked up behind us while Johnny, Two-Bit, Dally, and I cut across town toward home.

When we walked through the door of the Curtis house, the smell of spaghetti sauce hit me first. Darry was setting the last plate down at the table, and Soda and Steve were already home, grease smudges still on their hands and sleeves from Keith’s shop.

“’ Bout time,” Darry said, though there was a smile tugging at his mouth. “Wash up, dinner’s hot.”

We slid into our seats, and it didn’t take long for the stories to start flying. Soda twirled his fork into his pasta.

“You’ll never guess what rolled into the shop today,” Soda said. “Some guy brought in his car after blowing out the clutch, swore it was his girlfriend’s fault. Keith didn’t even blink, just handed him the bill like, ‘Yeah, sure, pal.’”

Steve snorted.

“Guy practically begged Keith to give him a break,” Steve said with a smirk. “Keith just told him maybe he should quit blaming his girl for his own lousy driving.”

That got a laugh around the table.

Then Johnny chimed in with the café gossip, glancing at Darry.

“Deb came in kinda nervous today,” Johnny murmured. “Thinks the café’s been too slow lately, worried it’s her fault.”

Darry’s brow furrowed, his big brother mode kicking in.

“It’s not her fault,” Darry said. “Town slows down every now and then. Karen wouldn’t leave her in charge if she didn’t trust her.”

“Haley’s got an idea,” I added. “She wants to host an open-mic night to bring folks in.”

Two-Bit grinned, pointing his fork at me.

“Bet you’d read one of your poems if she set it up, huh, Pony?” Two-Bit teased.

My face went red, and I shoved him in the shoulder.

“Shut up, Two-Bit,” I muttered.

That just made everybody laugh louder, Darry included.

Dinner carried on like that, stories from the shop, café gossip, little digs and laughs between us all. It was one of those nights where, for a while, things felt steady.

After the dishes were cleared, the phone rang. Darry picked it up, listened for a second, then handed it off to me.
“It’s Lucas,” Darry said.

I pressed the receiver to my ear.

“Hey,” I said eagerly.

Lucas’s voice came through, a little lighter than usual.

“River Court tonight,” Lucas said. “Got the guys down here already, thought you’d want to come shoot some hoops.”

I didn’t have to say much. I just turned to the table, and everyone was already pushing their chairs back.

“Guess that’s a yes,” I told him, smiling.

Within minutes, we were heading out into the night, the whole gang together, sneakers scuffing against the pavement as we made our way to the court that had become just as much ours as his.

Chapter Text

Chapter 22

Soda’s POV

The night air at the River Court was crisp, the kind that smelled faintly like pine and asphalt. The floodlights buzzed above us, painting the cracked blacktop in pale yellow. Lucas already had a ball in his hands, spinning it against his palm, while the River Court gang hooted and hollered.

We split up teams quickly: me, Pony, Johnny, and Two-Bit on one side, Lucas, Skills, and a couple of the other guys on the other. Dally leaned against the chain-link fence with Steve, both of them claiming they were “just here for the show.” Darry stood with his arms crossed, that half-smile of his giving away that he was enjoying it more than he let on.

The game was fast and loud, sneakers squeaking, the thud of the ball echoing across the court. Johnny hustled harder than I’d ever seen, grinning like a kid again, and Pony had this focused look, like he was trying to prove something.

Then came the sound, an engine humming low and smooth, and all heads turned as a light blue VW Beetle rolled up beside the court.

Brooke.

She leaned out of the window, pom-poms in hand, waving them like she was the star of the show.

“Go, Lucas!” Brooke called, her voice carrying across the asphalt.

The River Court gang broke into laughter instantly.

“Yo, Scott!” Skills doubled over, pointing at Lucas. “You got your own personal cheer squad now?”

“Cheer captain, more like,” another voice chimed in.

Lucas rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed but trying to play it cool. Brooke only leaned further out of the window, shaking her pom-poms with a grin.

Two-Bit leaned against me, chuckling.

“Man, Tree Hill girls don’t play around,” Two-Bit teased.

“Guess not,” I said, though I couldn’t help laughing too.

The teasing kept up, the River Court guys chanting and jeering in good fun, Lucas blushing redder by the second. Brooke blew him a kiss before pulling the Beetle away, leaving the whole court buzzing with jokes.

But under all the laughter, I caught something else on Lucas’s face when he thought no one was looking: confusion, maybe even guilt. Like, cheering wasn’t exactly what he wanted just then.

And in Tree Hill, that kind of look usually meant trouble was coming.

After Brooke’s pom-pom stunt at the River Court, we played a couple more rounds before everyone started breaking up for the night. Brooke didn’t leave, though; she parked her Beetle near the curb and waited, twirling her keys between her fingers like she had all the time in the world.

“Guess I’m heading out,” Lucas said, tossing the ball to Skills. “Brooke wants snacks or something.”

Two-Bit snorted.

“Snacks, huh?” Two-Bit teased. “That's what we’re callin’ it now?”

Lucas rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He gave us a look, like he half expected us to trail along, and sure enough.

“Might as well grab a few things for the house,” Darry said with a shrug.

So the whole gang ended up tagging along.

The fluorescent lights of the convenience store buzzed overhead as we walked in, the smell of coffee and chips greeting us. Brooke made a beeline for the candy aisle, pom-poms still in hand, while Lucas trailed after her, looking like he wasn’t sure how he got roped into this.

That’s when we saw her, Deb, standing near the coolers with a carton of milk in one hand.

She spotted Lucas instantly.

“Well, if it isn’t Tree Hill’s rising star,” Deb said.

Lucas gave a polite smile.

“Hey, Deb,” Lucas said.

Her eyes flicked to Brooke, who was piling candy onto the counter like she was stocking up for the winter. Then her gaze drifted to the rest of us, the whole Tulsa crew, loitering by the chips and sodas.

“Didn’t expect to see such an entourage,” Deb said warmly.

Darry stepped forward, shaking her hand politely.

“We just came from the River Court,” Darry said. “Lucas played a good game tonight.”

Brooke popped her gum and leaned into Lucas’s shoulder.

“Of course he did,” Brooke said. “He’s got the best cheer section.” She waved a pom-pom for emphasis.

Deb laughed, but there was a thoughtful look in her eye.

“You know, seeing everyone out there tonight, it got me thinking,” Deb said. “Maybe the café could use a little something extra. Some live music, maybe. Open-mic, like Haley mentioned.”

Johnny perked up at that.

“That’d be cool,” Johnny said. “Folks around town could use something different to do.”

I glanced at Pony, who immediately looked down at the floor like he didn’t want anyone suggesting his poetry. Two-Bit noticed too, grinning wide, but for once he kept his mouth shut.

Deb tilted her head at Lucas.

“What do you think?” Deb asked nervously. “Live music at the café, good idea?”

Lucas hesitated, like he wasn’t sure what to say, with Brooke nudging him impatiently at his side. Finally, he nodded.

“Yeah,” Lucas said wearily. “Could be good for the place.”

Brooke clapped her hands.

“Perfect!” Brooke said. “I’ll totally come and cheer for that too.”

Everyone chuckled, but the moment stuck with me. Deb wasn’t just making small talk; she was looking for something to bring life back to the café and maybe herself, too.

As we left the store, arms full of candy, sodas, and Darry’s sensible groceries, I had this strange feeling. Like that, a little conversation might end up being bigger than it seemed.

The ride back from the store was quieter, the hum of Brooke’s Beetle leading the way down the dark streets. Lucas sat up front with her, trying to act like he wasn’t embarrassed, while the rest of us followed behind on foot, grocery bags swinging from our hands.

Two-Bit kept sneaking candy out of the bag, tossing me a chocolate bar with a grin.

“Payment for my services as the funniest guy in Tree Hill,” Two-Bit joked.

“You’re not even funny,” Steve shot back, but he grabbed a pack of chips anyway.

By the time we reached the Curtis house, the porch light was glowing warm against the night. Darry unlocked the door, and we all spilled inside, dropping groceries on the counter and peeling off jackets.

“Don’t eat it all tonight,” Darry warned, side-eyeing Two-Bit, who already had a lollipop hanging out of his mouth.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Two-Bit said, voice muffled.

We gathered in the living room, each of us picking at the snacks while the TV buzzed low in the background. Johnny curled up in the corner of the couch, looking worn but content. Pony flipped through one of his books, though his eyes kept drifting toward the floor like he was lost in thought. Dally leaned back in the chair, arms crossed, while Steve and I argued over who’d fixed more cars that day at the shop.

Darry came in from the kitchen after stowing the groceries, standing there with that look he got when he was half proud and half tired.

“Alright,” Darry said. “Finish up, then get some sleep. Tomorrow’s another early one.”

“Bossy,” Two-Bit muttered, but he hauled himself up anyway.

The house settled down quickly after that. Johnny and Pony headed to their room, voices low as they talked about the River Court game. Steve stretched out on the floor, grumbling about his back. Dally flicked the TV off before Darry could remind him.

I sat there a minute longer, listening to the sounds of the house, Darry moving around in the kitchen, the creak of floorboards upstairs, the faint hum of wind outside.

For all the chaos of Tree Hill, nights like this reminded me we had something steady. A place to land. A roof, a table, a family, maybe not the kind we were born into, but the kind we’d fought to keep.
And with that thought, I finally dragged myself off to bed.

The next morning came too quickly, like it always did. Darry was already in the kitchen by the time I rolled out of bed, frying eggs and barking for us to hurry up. Pony was shoving books into his bag with his usual quiet focus, Johnny trailing behind him with a half-awake look. Two-Bit was cracking jokes before his hair was even combed, and Dally kept grumbling about how early school started in this town.
“Eat something before you leave,” Darry said, sliding plates onto the table. He had his work boots on already, his lunch packed. “And no excuses. Pony, don’t skip breakfast just ‘cause you’re running late.”
We wolfed down what we could, then headed out, splitting up at the corner, Darry toward the construction site, the rest of us to school.

Tree Hill High buzzed with the usual mix of gossip and tension. Word about Brooke showing up at the River Court with her pom-poms had spread faster than wildfire, and Lucas took the brunt of the teasing. Even Skills got a few digs in between classes, laughing about how “Lucas got cheerleaders on demand.”

Nathan, on the other hand, kept his head low. The whispers about him hadn’t stopped since the collapse at the game. A few kids made cracks, but mostly people just gave him space. Peyton walked the halls quietly and guarded, while Brooke was her usual sunshine act, floating from group to group.

Classes dragged, and by the time the final bell rang, I was itching to get to the shop.

Steve and I headed straight there, Keith already under the hood of a beat-up truck when we arrived. The place smelled like oil and metal, a smell I’d gotten used to quickly. Keith tossed us rags and grinned.

“Glad you boys showed up, this truck’s got more problems than my brother Dan,” Keith joked.

Steve snorted.

“That’s saying something,” Steve said with a smirk.

We got to work, me handing tools, Steve crawling under the lift with Keith, the kind of busy that kept your mind clear.

Meanwhile, Johnny, Pony, Dally, and Two-Bit headed over to the café. From what they’d tell us later, the shift was steady but not crazy. Deb was still in that nervous stage, wiping down counters even when they were already spotless. She kept asking about open-mic night, worrying over details like how many chairs they had and whether anyone would even show up.

Two-Bit, of course, promised he’d bring “half the town.”

By the time Steve and I closed up the shop and met the others on the walk home, the day had taken on that worn-down, quiet rhythm again.

Tree Hill was always buzzing with drama, but for us, it was just another day of school, work, and waiting for whatever storm came next.

By the time Steve and I got home, the table was already set, and the smell of chicken and biscuits filled the whole house. Darry was just pulling a pan out of the oven when the café crew filed in behind us, dropping their bags by the door like they’d been carrying the weight of the whole day.

We all crowded around the table, and as soon as Darry said, “Dig in,” the chatter started.

Johnny leaned forward first, his fork tapping his plate.

“Haley’s already making flyers for the open-mic night,” Johnny said. “Says she’s gonna plaster ‘em all over the school and the university. She’s serious about this thing.”

Two-Bit smirked.

“Told her I’d draw one with me, juggling or something,” Two-Bit joked. “She didn’t laugh. Think she actually considered it.”

That got a chuckle around the table.

“She really thinks it’ll bring people in,” Pony said quietly. “And honestly… she’s probably right.”

Darry gave a small nod.

“She’s got good instincts, that one,” Darry said with a small smile.

Then Dally, leaning back with his arms crossed, dropped it like a casual grenade.

“Word is, Dan and Deb might be splitting up,” Dally said. “Supposedly, Deb kicked him out of the house. Folks at the café were whispering it, but it’s still under wraps.”

Everyone froze for a second.

“Wait…what?” Steve asked, nearly dropping his fork.

Johnny shrugged.

“Deb didn’t say anything,” Johnny said. “She was just… tense. But people were buzzing.”

Two-Bit whistled low.

“Man, if that’s true, Tree Hill’s about to get real interesting,” Two-Bit said.

Steve and I traded glances, and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was: if Dan got cut loose, he was gonna cause trouble somewhere else.

Then Steve spoke up, jabbing his fork in the air.

“Keith came by earlier, too,” Steve said. “Said he talked to Deb at the grocery store about Lucas and Brooke…”

“Wait,” Pony cut in. “What about Lucas and Brooke?”

Steve leaned back, smirking.

“Apparently, they ran into each other at the store, and Brooke was buying… well… condoms,” Steve said.

Two-Bit practically choked on his biscuit.

“No way!” Two-Bit laughed.

“Way,” Steve said, grinning wider.

Johnny’s eyes went wide, and Pony ducked his head like he didn’t want to picture it. Darry just set his fork down with a long sigh.

“That boy’s got enough on his plate without adding more to it,” Darry said.

“Yeah, but he’s adding it anyway,” Dally muttered.

The table broke into overlapping chatter after that, jokes, disbelief, a few digs at Lucas, even though he wasn’t there to defend himself.

Through it all, I couldn’t help but think Tree Hill was like some kind of pressure cooker. Secrets, rumors, and drama are building up faster than anyone can keep track of. And us? We were right in the middle of it, trying to keep our balance.

After dinner, we helped clear the dishes, the laughter still echoing even as Darry shushed us. But under it all, I knew we’d all be carrying tonight’s gossip into tomorrow.

The next day rolled by in its usual blur, school dragging like it always did, then work. Steve and I put in our hours at Keith’s shop, hands stained with grease, while the others handled the café shift. By the time we all regrouped, the sun was setting, and Lucas caught up to us outside.

“Hey,” Lucas said, bouncing a ball lightly against his palm. “Wanna take a walk with me? There’s someone I think you should meet.”

We all glanced at each other, curious. Lucas didn’t give much away, but we tagged along anyway: me, Steve, Pony, Johnny, Two-Bit, Dally, and even Darry, who had just gotten off work and still looked tired in his work boots.

Lucas led us down a quiet street, past rows of modest houses, until we stopped at one with a worn porch light. He knocked, and after a moment, Jake Jagielski opened the door.

“Hey, man,” Lucas said, giving him a quick nod. “We were just in the neighborhood, thought we’d swing by.”

Jake looked surprised to see the lot of us, but he stepped aside.

“Yeah, sure,” Jake said. “Come on in.”

We shuffled inside, the house warm and cozy in a way that made me think of Tulsa, not because it looked the same, but because it felt lived in.

Then we heard it.

A soft coo, followed by a tiny giggle.

I froze, trading glances with Pony, who was already wide-eyed. Jake disappeared down the hall and came back cradling something small in his arms.

“This,” he said, almost shy, “is Jenny.”

A baby. A little girl with tufts of dark hair and the kind of round, curious eyes that made your chest ache just looking at her. She couldn’t have been more than six months old.

The room went silent. Johnny leaned forward first, his expression softening in a way I hadn’t seen before.

“She’s… yours?” Johnny asked.

Jake nodded, a faint smile tugging at his mouth as Jenny reached for his shirt collar.

“Yeah,” Jake said. “She’s mine.”

Two-Bit let out a low whistle.

“Man, I did not see that coming,” Two–Bit said.

Dally, for once, didn’t have some smart remark ready. He just stared, jaw tight like he was trying to figure it out.

Darry stepped closer, looking Jake square in the eye. “You taking care of her all on your own?”

Jake shrugged, rocking Jenny gently.

“Yeah,” Jake said. “It’s not easy, but… she’s worth it.”

That hit me harder than I expected. There was something about the way he said it, the way he held her, like every hard thing in his life didn’t matter as long as she was okay.

“She’s beautiful,” Pony whispered.

Jake smiled at him.

“Thanks,” Jake murmured.

The rest of us hung back, a mix of awe and disbelief settling in. Lucas didn’t say much; he just watched our reactions, like he’d known this secret for a while and was finally letting us in on it.

And for once, none of us had a joke, or gossip, or some big comment to make.

We were just… quiet, taking in the sight of a guy our age balancing books, ball, and fatherhood all in one.

Tree Hill kept surprising us, but this? This was different.

Chapter Text

Chapter 23

Darry’s POV

The morning came too fast, like it always did. I woke before the alarm; the house was still quiet except for the soft creak of pipes and the occasional thud of someone moving upstairs. Habit had me dressed and in the kitchen before anyone else, frying eggs, brewing coffee, trying to give the boys something decent to start the day on.

Soda wandered in first, hair all over the place, rubbing his eyes and grinning at the smell of bacon. Steve wasn’t far behind, arguing with Two-Bit over whose turn it was to shower, while Pony sat at the table with a book open even though he barely had time to read. Johnny and Dally trailed in last, looking half-dead but awake enough to eat.

Breakfast was noisy, as always, but it felt good. It felt steady. And then it was time, shoving books into bags, grabbing lunches, herding them all out the door. They peeled off toward Tree Hill High while I headed for the construction site.

Work didn’t wait. The foreman had me hauling lumber and setting trusses before the sun burned off the morning chill. Sweat came quickly, and so did the talk.

“Did you hear?” one of the guys muttered while we worked a frame into place. “Word is, Deb Scott’s thinkin’ about letting that Haley James girl run live music at the café. Open-mic night or somethin’.”

“Yeah?” another said. “That place could use a boost.”

I stayed quiet, but I listened. The boys spent enough time at her café that any changes there were bound to ripple back to our dinner table.

By lunch, the topic had shifted.

“Dan Scott’s been struttin’ around all morning,” Hank, the foreman, muttered while unwrapping his sandwich. “Deb kicked him outta the house. Can you believe that? Man’s got the whole town in his pocket, and his own wife won’t have him.”

That got the crew laughing, shaking their heads. But me, I just thought about Nathan, about Lucas, and about how fast this little town’s drama spilled into every corner.

The rest of the day blurred together, lifting, hammering, measuring, keeping my head down. But under it all, the same thought kept rolling through my mind: Tree Hill wasn’t Tulsa, but trouble was trouble no matter what it looked like. And I had six boys counting on me to keep them clear of it, even when it followed us home.

By quitting time, my back ached and my hands were raw, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight the house was gonna be full of gossip. Soda and Steve from Keith’s shop, the others from the café, whatever Tree Hill was stirring up today, it’d be waiting for me at the dinner table.

And somehow, I knew the Scotts’ name would be right in the middle of it.

By the time I got home, the sky was already streaked with orange. The porch light flicked on as I pushed open the door, and the smell of stew drifted out of the kitchen.

The boys were gathered around the table, voices tumbling over each other like always. Soda and Steve still had traces of grease on their shirts from Keith’s shop, while Pony, Johnny, Dally, and Two-Bit looked beat from their shift at the café.

“’ Bout time,” Two-Bit said with a grin, spoon already halfway to his mouth. “We were starvin’.”

“You’re always starvin’,” I shot back, setting my lunch pail down and sliding into my seat.

Dinner started the way it always did, quiet for the first couple of minutes while everyone dug in, then the stories started spilling out.

“Haley’s all in on this open-mic night thing,” Pony said, leaning forward, his eyes bright. “It’s tonight after dinner.”

Two-Bit smirked, waving his spoon.

“I volunteered to emcee,” Two-Bit joked. “Told Haley I’d bring the jokes.”

“You don’t have jokes,” Steve muttered.

“Sure, I do. Just not ones fit for church company,” Two-Bit shot back, earning a round of groans.

I let them chatter, eating slowly, listening. There was a buzz in the air about it, more than I’d expected. Tree Hill wasn’t Tulsa, and maybe an open-mic night wasn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but for these kids, it was something. A place to belong, a chance to show who they were outside of school or work.

Then Dally leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

“So, we all goin’ after dinner or what?” Dally asked.

Soda grinned.

“Course we are,” Soda said. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Johnny glanced my way, quiet as always.

“You’ll come too, right, Darry?” Johnny asked.

I hesitated for a second, but their faces said it all. It wasn’t just about the café, it was about showing up together, like we always did.

“Yeah,” I said finally, setting my spoon down. “We’ll all go. But you boys behave yourselves. It’s a café, not Coney Island.”

That earned me a round of laughter, but I saw the excitement in their eyes. They were ready for it. And, I had to admit, maybe I was, too.

Because sometimes in a town full of drama, all you needed was music, a microphone, and a room full of people who cared enough to show up.

The café was buzzing when we walked in, brighter than I’d ever seen it. Haley’s flyers must’ve worked; half the tables were full, kids from the high school mixed in with a few college students, back early. Deb was behind the counter, a little flushed but smiling, moving fast to keep things running.

Johnny, Pony, and Two-Bit went to check out the sign-up sheet for performers, though Two-Bit mostly just pretended like he was going to put his name down. Dally leaned against the wall near the jukebox, scanning the room like he always did. Steve and Soda grabbed us a table while I lingered by the counter, watching Deb try to do three things at once.

That’s when Lucas came in, Brooke on his arm. She looked every bit the part of his cheerleader, pom-pom smile and all, and he… well, he looked like he was trying to play it cool.

Deb spotted him first, straightening behind the counter. Lucas walked up, Brooke trailing close, and I couldn’t help but overhear.

“You’re doing well here,” Lucas told Deb, his voice steady but soft. “Mom would be proud. I know she would.”

Deb blinked fast, like she wasn’t expecting that.

“That… means a lot, Lucas,” Deb said. “Really.”

“If you’ve got a problem with me, talk to me about it first, okay?” Lucas added. “Don’t just… keep it in.”

Deb’s mouth curved into a faint smile, touched but maybe a little guilty too.

“Alright,” Deb said. “I can do that.”

Brooke tugged on Lucas’s sleeve then, but he glanced across the room and saw Peyton sitting alone at a table near the door, sketchbook half open in front of her. He walked over, careful steps, like he didn’t want to scare her off.

“Mind if I sit?” Lucas asked.

Peyton didn’t look up right away. When she did, her eyes were shadowed.

“I was just leaving,” Peyton murmured.

Before Lucas could say more, she closed her sketchbook, stood, and slipped out into the night.

Brooke’s face fell. She shot Lucas a look, then hurried after Peyton, her heels clicking against the floor.

I caught a glimpse of them outside through the café windows, Brooke reaching for Peyton’s arm, trying to stop her. I couldn’t hear the words, but I knew the look, Brooke pleading, Peyton holding back.
Later, Pony filled me in: Brooke told Peyton she didn’t have to feel like a third wheel, not with her and Lucas. But from the look on Peyton’s face as she turned away, I knew the girl wasn’t convinced.

The café around me kept buzzing, laughter and music spilling into the night, but all I could think of was how tangled this town’s heartstrings were. And somehow, the boys and I had walked right into the middle of it.

The café lights dimmed, and the first performer took the stage, Jake Jagielski. He came in carrying his guitar, but what caught everybody’s eye was the baby balanced against his hip. Jenny. She gurgled as he set her carrier down at the edge of the stage, like she knew this was her moment too.

Jake strummed a few chords, settling into his song with the kind of ease that made the whole café go quiet. His voice was steady, warm, and when I glanced around, even Dally looked impressed, arms uncrossed for once.

But it was Peyton I noticed most. She sat closer to the stage than anyone else, her eyes fixed on Jake like he’d walked out of one of her sketches. There was a softness in her face I hadn’t seen before.
Two-Bit leaned close to me.

“Somebody’s got a crush,” Two-Bit whispered.

I shot him a look, but he wasn’t wrong.

After Jake finished, the place erupted in applause. Jenny cooed at the noise, and Jake grinned as he scooped her back into his arms. When he stepped down, Peyton was waiting. They talked low, but you could see the connection spark between them, her smile a little easier, his shoulders a little looser.

Meanwhile, Lucas had drifted toward Nathan. I didn’t catch every word, but I heard enough, their voices low, tight, talking about Dan. Nathan’s jaw was sharp with anger, Lucas’s calm but edged with something heavy. Whatever had gone down on that golf course had left marks deeper than I thought.

Deb spotted Nathan from across the room, her face lighting with surprise. She walked over and touched his arm gently. He looked at her, almost guarded, but didn’t pull away. It was a moment, quiet but important, and it hung in the air long after she stepped back.

But outside, that’s where my stomach twisted. Through the window, headlights glared. Dan Scott’s car sat parked across the street, his silhouette behind the wheel. Watching. Always watching.

“Creep,” Dally muttered, catching it too.

The performances rolled on, and then the room shifted again. A new face stepped in, Gavin DeGraw himself, guitar slung over his shoulder. The whole café buzzed at once.

Peyton was on her feet first, crossing to him fast.

“Hey, sorry,” Peyton said sheepishly. “I told you it’d be small.”

Gavin grinned.

“Nah, it’s cool,” Gavin said. “Looks good.”

When he stepped onto the stage, the crowd leaned in, the music filling the café as it belonged there all along.

By the end of the night, the air felt different, lighter, charged. Lucas walked up to where Nathan and Haley stood, his voice easy but sure.

“We’re heading to the River Court,” Lucas said. “You and the team should come. It’s just fun, you know?”

Nathan hesitated, then gave the smallest nod.

And that’s how it happened.

We spilled out into the night, the River Court filling with more players than I’d ever seen. The River Court gang, our Tulsa crew, the Ravens, everybody mixing together under the buzz of the lights. The ball bounced, sneakers squeaked, laughter and shouts echoing across the river.

Off to the side, I spotted a car parked under the shadows. Keith in the driver’s seat, Whitey beside him, watching it all unfold like they’d planned this moment.
And maybe they had.

Because for the first time since we’d set foot in Tree Hill, it felt like something was shifting. Not just games, not just gossip, something bigger.

And standing there with my brothers and the boys, I knew we were a part of it now.

The River Court was still buzzing behind us when we finally started the walk home. The night air was cooler now, carrying the sound of bouncing balls and laughter until it faded into the distance. The boys were all trading shots and jokes about who had scored what, Two-Bit bragging like he’d been MVP, Johnny just shaking his head with a half-smile.

As we rounded the corner by the café, the noise dropped out.

Dan Scott was there. Standing in the soft glow of the café’s light, facing Deb. She looked tired, her arms crossed like she was holding herself together. We slowed down, hanging back far enough not to intrude, but close enough to hear.

Deb’s voice cut through first, low but sharp.

“I wanted you to make up with Nathan this weekend,” Deb said. “Instead, you managed to make it worse.”

Dan shook his head, almost scoffing.

“We were going to spend the weekend together, but he flipped out on the eighteenth hole,” Dan retorted. “Embarrassing.”

“Did you badger him into it?” Deb pressed.

Dan’s jaw set tight.

“I didn’t badger him,” Dan said. “Nathan’s weak when he should be strong.”

Deb’s eyes flashed, and even from where I stood, I could see the fire in them.

“No. You have a problem, Dan,” Deb argued. “You’re controlling. You’re competitive. You need help.”

Dan narrowed his eyes.

“And when did you become mother of the year?” Dan asked. “Last I knew, you were gone half the month, and checked out the rest.”

For a second, Deb flinched, but then she straightened.

“You’re right,” Deb said. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do with Nathan. But at least I’m trying. You? You need to see a therapist. And we’ll go as a family.”

Dan let out a bitter laugh.

“Forget it,” Dan scoffed.

Deb’s voice sharpened, final.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” Deb said. “If you don’t go, you won’t see Nathan.”

The words hung in the air, heavy.

Dan stared at her, his face darkening.

“You’d really stop me from seeing my own son?” Dan asked.

Deb didn’t flinch.

“Try me,” Deb said.

Silence. Then Dan spun on his heel, stalking off into the night.

The café door creaked behind Deb as she leaned against the frame, her shoulders sagging like all the fight had drained out of her.

I exchanged a look with Soda, then stepped forward.

“You alright, Deb?” My voice was quieter than I meant, carrying more concern than I usually let slip.

She blinked, startled, then gave a small, tired smile.

“Hey, boys,” Deb said. “Didn’t see you there.”

Johnny stepped up beside me, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“He’s a real piece of work,” Johnny murmured.

Deb gave a short laugh, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Deb said.

Soda offered, gently, “You don’t gotta go through this alone, you know. We’re around. Karen might be gone, but the café’s still got people who care.”

Deb looked at us all, me, Soda, Pony, Two-Bit, Steve, Johnny, and Dally. Her face softened.

“Thanks. I mean it,” Deb said. “You boys have been a bigger support than you realize.”

I nodded.

“Anytime,” I said.

We let her be after that, heading down the block again. But I kept glancing back at the café until it was out of sight, the image of her standing there burned into my mind. She looked strong, but she also looked like someone holding back a storm.

And I couldn’t shake the thought, this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Chapter Text

Chapter 24

Two-Bit’s POV

Mornings at the Curtis house were always chaotic, but that one felt extra loud. Darry was barking orders like a drill sergeant, waving a spatula in one hand and pointing toward Pony with the other.

“Pony, eat something besides coffee!” Darry called. “Soda, shoes on before you step out the door, not after! Steve, quit hogging the bathroom!”

Steve shouted back through the door.

“You want my hair to look like yours, Darry?” Steve shouted. “’Cause I don’t think Tree Hill’s ready for that!”

That got Soda cackling, and even Pony cracked a grin behind his toast. Darry just shook his head like he regretted every decision that led him to raising a house full of gremlins.

Johnny came downstairs last, quiet as usual, but with that faint smile like he was in on the joke even if he didn’t say it. Dally followed right behind him, tugging on his jacket.

“If we don’t leave now, we’re gonna be late,” Dally said. “And I ain’t running through town like some track star.”

“Speak for yourself,” I said, stuffing the last bite of eggs in my mouth. “I got the legs for it.”

Darry gave me a look.

“You’ve got the mouth for it, that’s about it,” Darry retorted

That set everybody off again, laughter bouncing around the kitchen until finally Darry herded us all out the door like the world’s crankiest shepherd. He headed for work, tool belt slung over his shoulder, while the rest of us made the walk toward Tree Hill High.

The air was cold, our breath puffing out white as we joked and nudged each other down the street. But under all the usual noise, I could feel it, something brewing. Tree Hill had a way of keeping things from ever being simple.

By the time the school building came into view, Lucas was already out front, waiting with Haley. Brooke wasn’t far behind, her bright blue Beetle parked nearby, pom-poms sitting in the passenger seat like a calling card. Peyton lingered at the edge of it all, arms wrapped tight around herself, her eyes shadowed.

And just like that, I knew, this was gonna be another one of those days.

School had a buzz to it that morning, and it wasn’t the kind you got from too much coffee or a pep rally on the calendar. Nah, this was Tree Hill, gossip buzz. And man, it spread faster than a fire in dry brush.

By second period, everybody and their grandma had heard about the Scott family therapy session.

“I heard Nathan walked out.”

“No, I heard Deb did.”

“No, my cousin’s on the basketball team and he swears Dan cried.”

That last one had me snorting out loud. Dan Scott crying? Yeah right. That guy had ice cubes where his heart should be. Still, the fact that people were even spinning that kind of story said something.

The gang and I leaned against the lockers, catching the stories as they flew past. Dally was shaking his head.

“Family therapy,” Dally grumbled. “That explains why Nathan looked like he wanted to knock someone’s teeth out this morning.”

Johnny looked kind of thoughtful.

“Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, though,” Johnny said. “Sometimes talking helps.”

Dally gave him this look like he’d grown two heads.

“You’ve been spending way too much time at that café, Johnnycake,” Dally said. “Talking doesn’t fix anything.”

“Depends on who you’re talking to,” Pony said, sliding a book into his locker. “Sometimes it’s the only thing that does.”

Before Dally could fire back, a pack of cheerleaders rushed past, giggling like crazy, and we caught the next round of rumors, his one about Brooke and Lucas.

“Hot tub,” one of them hissed, like it was some kind of dirty word.

“Yeah, I heard she pulled him in fully clothed.”

“And they totally made out!”

I nearly dropped my history book laughing.

“Well, good for Luke!” I joked. “Kid’s finally living a little.”

Pony frowned, not looking so thrilled.

“It’s just… Brooke,” Pony murmured. “She’s kind of…”

“Kind of fun,” I cut in. “Don’t knock it, Ponyboy. Kid’s not a saint.”

Soda nudged Steve, both of them grinning ear to ear.

“Bet Lucas didn’t see that coming,” Soda said.

Steve smirked.

“Bet Brooke did,” Steve teased.

That set the rest of us chuckling again, though I noticed Lucas himself wasn’t smiling much when he passed by a little later, Brooke hanging off his arm. He looked… conflicted. Like he’d gotten exactly what he thought he wanted and wasn’t sure how to handle it.

Peyton walked by not long after, eyes down, jaw tight. And if you didn’t know better, you’d think she didn’t care at all. But I’d been watching people my whole life; her eyes gave her away.
Tree Hill High, man. Every day was a soap opera, and somehow, we were right in the middle of it.

By lunch, the air was thick enough with drama you could’ve bottled it and sold it. Brooke and Peyton kept shooting daggers at each other from across the cafeteria. Brooke was laughing too loudly with her cheer squad, while Peyton picked at her food, pretending she didn’t care. Lucas sat in the middle like a guy stuck between two landmines.

Nathan, meanwhile, was all smiles, smug ones, the kind that made you wanna smack him. He leaned into Haley at her locker after lunch, whispering something that had her blushing and swatting him on the arm. She didn’t look as annoyed as she tried to act.

“Haley’s gonna cave,” Steve muttered to me in math class, smirking.

“She already has,” I whispered back, earning myself a glare from the teacher.

By the time the final bell rang, everybody was restless, itching to either spread more gossip or run from it.

After school, we split like usual: me, Pony, Johnny, and Dally heading to the café, while Steve and Soda walked toward Keith’s auto shop.

Deb had the café running smoothly, though she looked a little nervous behind the counter, like she was still convincing herself she belonged there. She gave us our aprons and a warm smile.

“Busy afternoon, boys,” Deb said. “Let’s keep it moving.”

I was halfway through wiping down tables when some kid at the counter blurted out, “Hey, you hear about Lucas? Went over to Peyton Sawyer’s house, thought there was a burglar. Stormed in armed with a hoe. Turns out it was her dad.”

I dropped the rag, cracking up.

“A hoe?” I laughed. “Lucas Scott, fearless defender of damsels in distress with the power of garden tools!”

Johnny smirked but shook his head.

“Man must’ve been mortified,” Johnny chuckled.

“Better than showing up with nothing,” Pony said, ever the thoughtful one.

“Better than showing up at all,” Dally added, smirking. “Kid should’ve minded his business.”

We were still chuckling when Steve and Soda swung by after their shift at the shop. They looked like they had their own piece of news.

“You’re never gonna believe this,” Soda said, grabbing a stool. “Nathan Scott dropped by the shop. Wanted to talk to Keith.”

I raised my brows.

“Talk to Keith?” I asked in surprise. “What, he needs life advice or an oil change?”

Steve shrugged.

“Didn’t catch much, but it looked serious,” Steve said. “Guess even golden boy Scott’s got problems.”

Between Lucas’s hoe-wielding heroics and Nathan sneaking around Keith’s, it was clear Tree Hill had no shortage of entertainment.

And somehow, we always had front row seats.

Dinner at the Curtis place was always a circus, but nights like this one? It was like the whole town of Tree Hill had pulled up a chair right alongside us. Darry had cooked up a pot roast that made the whole house smell like Sunday dinner, and as soon as plates were passed around, the stories started flying.

“So get this,” Soda said between mouthfuls of mashed potatoes, “Peyton actually walked into cheer practice today. Right up to Brooke. You could cut the tension with a knife.”

Steve leaned in, clearly enjoying himself.

“And then at basketball practice, Jake shows up with Jenny,” Steve said. “Just wheeled her stroller right onto the court. Kid’s got guts.”

Pony’s eyes lit up a little.

“He doesn’t hide her,” Pony said. “That’s… kind of cool.”

“Yeah, cool,” Dally muttered, smirking. “But man, can you imagine running plays while your baby’s in the corner watching? Wild.”

Johnny smiled faintly, like he respected Jake more for it.

“Shows he’s serious, though,” Johnny said. “He’s not pretending he doesn’t have responsibilities.”

I couldn’t resist.

“Maybe Peyton noticed too,” I said. “Girl had stars in her eyes when Jake walked in.”

That got a round of laughter, even Darry cracking a grin as he carved another slice of roast.
“Tree Hill’s full of surprises, huh?” Darry said.

“Speaking of surprises,” I added, leaning back in my chair, “you guys aren’t gonna believe who I ran into today. Tim Shepard. Yep, that Tim Shepard. Guess he decided to roll into Tree Hill.”

The room went quiet for a second. Pony blinked. Johnny stiffened a little, fork halfway to his mouth.

Dally leaned forward, sharp interest in his eyes.

“Shepard’s here?” Dally asked. “In this town?”

“Damn right he is,” I said, grinning. “Ran into him near the gas station. Said he’s just passing through, but knowing Tim, that could mean a week or a year. Figured I’d give you boys a heads up before he shows up on our doorstep.”

Soda let out a low whistle.

“Well, that’s one way to stir the pot,” Steve said.

Darry sighed, already looking like he had a headache coming on.

“Great,” Darry said. “Just what we need, another wild card in this town.”

But me? I couldn’t help feeling a little excited. Shepard meant trouble, sure. But sometimes, trouble was exactly what made things interesting.

And between Tree Hill drama and Tulsa ghosts coming back around… we were in for one hell of a ride.

Next morning, the Curtis kitchen was even rowdier than usual. Pony was grumbling about a paper he hadn’t finished, Soda was flirting with Cassie over the phone while tying his shoes, and Darry was barking for everyone to move it or lose it before he was late to the site.

We spilled out the door in a jumble of jackets and backpacks, and by the time we hit the halls of Tree Hill High, the gossip engine was already in full swing again.

Jake Jagielski was at his locker, baby carrier perched on the floor beside him with little Jenny babbling. Peyton Sawyer leaned in close, her curls brushing forward as she talked to him, all shy smiles and soft looks.

I elbowed Johnny with a grin.

“Told you Peyton’s got a thing for Jake,” I said.

Johnny gave that quiet little smile of his but didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The look in Peyton’s eyes said enough.

Across the hall, it was a different kind of tension. Nathan and Lucas were face-to-face, voices low but sharp. You didn’t have to hear the words to know it wasn’t friendly. Nathan’s jaw was tight, Lucas’s fists shoved in his pockets like he was holding himself back from throwing one.

“Every day with those two,” Soda muttered. “It’s like waiting for the next explosion.”

“Tree Hill’s own soap opera,” I added. “And we got front-row seats.”

I was about to keep walking when a familiar voice cut through the hallway noise.

“Well, if it ain’t the Curtis crew,” The voice growled.

We all froze, then turned. And there he was, leaning against the lockers like he owned the place, leather jacket slung casually, smirk plastered on his face. Tim Shepard.

“Holy hell,” Dally muttered under his breath, a grin creeping in. “Didn’t believe you yesterday, Two-Bit. Thought you were pulling one.”

“Nope,” I said, hands spreading wide. “In the flesh.”

Tim’s eyes flicked over us, sharp and amused.

“Didn’t figure I’d find the whole damn Tulsa gang haunting some North Carolina high school,” Tim drawled. “But hey, guess life’s full of surprises.”

The hallway buzz around us didn’t even slow, Jake and Peyton talking, Nathan and Lucas glaring, but for us? The whole world tilted just a little. Shepard was back in our orbit.

And that meant things were about to get real interesting.

Tim Shepard didn’t just blend in at Tree Hill High; he stuck out like a bruise. The second he started walking the halls with us, you could feel heads turn. Maybe it was the leather jacket, maybe it was the way he carried himself, like he’d fought half the world and come out grinning, but the Tree Hill kids weren’t used to his kind.

“Who’s that?” I overheard one girl whisper near the water fountain.

“Some cousin of the Curtis boys, I think,” her friend guessed.

Yeah, cousin. That worked better than explaining the Tulsa mess.

By the third period, Shepard had already drawn a crowd. A couple of jocks thought they’d test him, tossing comments about how “Tree Hill doesn’t need another delinquent.” Shepard didn’t even blink. He just leaned back against the lockers and smiled that slow, sharp smile.

“You boys ever been jumped?” Shepard asked, casual as anything.

They shut up real quick after that.

At lunch, it got even louder. Tim Shepard walked in with our gang, and half the cafeteria went quiet, watching him swagger up to our table like he’d owned it for years. Brooke Davis gave him a once-over and whispered something to her cheer squad that made them all giggle. Peyton raised an eyebrow like she was trying to decide if he was trouble or just looked like it.

Spoiler: it was both.

“Tree Hill’s got some decent scenery,” Shepard said, nodding toward the cheerleaders with a smirk. “Might make this trip worth it.”

Johnny shifted uncomfortably, while Pony buried himself in a book. Dally, though, was eating it up. The two of them traded grins across the table like wolves recognizing each other.

Soda leaned toward me, muttering under his breath.

“Great,” Soda groaned. “Two Dallys. That’s exactly what this town needs.”

I nearly spat my soda laughing.

By last period, word of Shepard had spread across every corner of the school. He wasn’t just visiting Tulsa muscle anymore; he was officially Tree Hill High’s newest rumor.

And I had a feeling this was only the start.

When the final bell rang, Shepard was still hanging with us like he’d always been part of the crew. No surprise there, once Tim sank his claws into a place, he didn’t let go easily.

“Alright,” Soda said, swinging his jacket over his shoulder, “me and Steve are off to the shop.”

“Mind if I tag along?” Shepard asked, flashing that grin. “Been a while since I hung out around grease and engines.”

Steve eyed him warily.

“As long as you don’t start a fight with Keith or set anything on fire,” Steve said.

“No promises,” Shepard said, clapping Steve on the back.

The rest of us, me, Johnny, Pony, and Dally, headed toward the café. Shepard trailed along halfway before peeling off with Soda and Steve. Dally leaned close to me, smirking.

“Keith’s shop won’t know what hit ‘em,” Dally muttered.

When we pushed through the doors at Karen’s, the café was humming. Deb was behind the counter, her smile a little tight, like she was still finding her footing, but she nodded at us.

“Grab your aprons, boys,” Deb said. “Busy night.”

We got to work, bussing tables and running orders, but it wasn’t long before something caught my eye: Peyton Sawyer, walking in with her dad. He had that weathered sailor look about him, and they sat down at a corner booth. Lucas joined them not long after, sliding into the seat across.

From where I was wiping down the counter, I could hear just enough laughter, easy conversation. Peyton looked lighter than I’d seen her in weeks, smiling at her dad like she didn’t have a care in the world. Lucas fit right in at their table, like he belonged.

I glanced up just in time to see Brooke outside the window, pom-poms still stuffed in her bag, watching. She froze when she saw Lucas laughing with Peyton, her expression flickering from curiosity to something sharper, jealousy, maybe, or just hurt. She stood there a moment too long before spinning on her heel and storming off down the street.

Johnny had been clearing a table nearby and caught the whole thing too. He sighed, muttering,

“That’s gonna blow up later,” Johnny groaned.

“No kidding,” I said, tossing the rag over my shoulder. “This town’s messier than a soap opera.”

Dally just smirked.

“Makes it entertaining,” Dally said.

By closing time, Peyton and her dad had left, Lucas trailing after them. We finished stacking chairs and wiping down counters, and Deb gave us a grateful smile.

“Thanks, boys,” Deb said. “You make this easier than it should be.”

“Anytime,” Johnny said, quiet but sincere.

And when we walked out into the cool night air, the whole Brooke-Peyton-Lucas triangle was hanging over our heads like storm clouds. Add Shepard to the mix, and it felt like things in Tree Hill were only getting more complicated.

Chapter Text

Chapter 25

Steve’s POV

Dinner at the Curtis place always felt like controlled chaos, and with Tim Shepard pulled up to the table tonight, it was even louder than usual. Darry had made spaghetti: a big pot, garlic bread stacked high, and we were all crammed shoulder to shoulder, plates clattering, Pony passing around the parmesan like he was the waiter.

Soda was in his usual mood, cracking jokes with Two-Bit about who could eat more breadsticks before Darry noticed. Johnny was tucked in quiet but smiling, his eyes darting around like he was happy just being in the noise. Dally, of course, had his feet up on a chair until Darry barked at him to knock it off.

And Shepard? He looked like he owned the place, leaning back, smirk on his face like he’d been invited, even though he hadn’t.

“So this is the famous Curtis spread,” Tim said, twirling pasta on his fork. “Heard about it all the way back in Tulsa. You feed half the town or just your gang?”

“Both,” Soda grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Depends on how much Darry cooks.”

“That’s why there’s never enough,” Darry muttered, though you could tell he didn’t really mind.

I leaned back, watching Shepard. He had that same glint in his eye he always did in Tulsa, like he was here for trouble more than for company. The Tree Hill kids weren’t ready for a Tim Shepard. Hell, half the time we weren’t ready for him.

“A lot of gossip floatin’ around today,” Two-Bit said, mouth half full. “Word at the café is Peyton Sawyer’s old man showed up in town, and Lucas went all Paul Bunyan with a hoe ‘cause he thought he was a burglar.”

The table cracked up, and even Darry cracked a half-smile.

“Bet that went over well,” Soda said between laughs.

“Not so much,” I said, shaking my head. “Lucas looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.”

Johnny glanced up, quiet but curious.

“At least his dad came back,” Johnny said softly.

That shut us all up for half a beat; none of us knew what to say to that. Darry cleared his throat, trying to move us along.

“Anything else?” Darry asked, looking from Soda to me.

Dally nodded.

“Peyton, her dad, and Lucas had dinner at the cafe today,” Dally drawled. “Brooke was about to walk in when she saw it and ran off.”

“That can’t be good,” I muttered.

“So you can’t get away from the drama, can you?” Tim Shepard teased.

“Stick around,” Two-Bit said, grinning widely. “You’ll see just how messy it gets.”

And as the table dissolved back into noise, Dally lighting another smoke, Soda making Johnny laugh, Pony trying to ask Darry about homework, it hit me: Shepard was right. Tree Hill wasn’t Tulsa. But it had its own storm brewing, and we were right in the middle of it.

Morning at the Curtis place was the usual storm, Darry barking at Soda to hurry up, Pony cramming last-minute homework, Dally refusing to put out his cigarette till the last second. Shepard, though, sat at the table like he owned the place, sipping coffee and smirking at the chaos.

“You boys always this noisy?” Shepard asked.

“Pretty much,” Two-Bit said, grinning as he stole a piece of toast off Pony’s plate.

By the time we hit the school parking lot, we were still trading jabs, but everything shifted the second we saw Lucas and Brooke at their lockers. Brooke’s voice carried just enough for us to catch the words.
“I saw you last night at the café,” Brooke said, her tone sharp but shaky. “You, Peyton, her dad. You looked pretty friendly.”

Lucas sighed, leaning against the lockers.

“We’re friends, Brooke,” Lucas said. “That’s all. I like that I’m dating you.”

Brooke crossed her arms, her cheerleader smile nowhere in sight.

“Sure doesn’t look that way,” Brooke said. “Looks like you’re dating Peyton.” She spun on her heel and walked off, heels clicking against the tile.

A second later, Peyton drifted up, brows drawn.

“What was that about?” Peyton asked.

Lucas rubbed the back of his neck.

“Brooke’s mad we had dinner last night,” Lucas said.

Peyton groaned, throwing her head back.

“I’ll talk to her,” Peyton said, eyes rolling. “Tell her how bored I was listening to you and my dad talk about dead writers.”

Lucas gave a small smile but didn’t let it go.

“You okay? You acted weird when your dad called you over.”

Peyton hesitated, then sighed.

“He told me about this boating job,” Peyton said. “In New Zealand. He’ll be gone a long time.”

“You tell him not to go?” Lucas asked.

“It’s important to him,” Peyton muttered. “I couldn’t.”

Lucas shook his head.

“You’ve gotta stop pretending everything’s okay when it’s not,” Lucas said.

The look on Peyton’s face, half-defensive, half-hurting, said he’d hit close to home.

We moved down the hall, the gang sticking together like usual, and passed the tutoring center. Through the glass window, Nathan and Haley were sitting close, laughing about something only they knew. Her hand brushed his arm, and she didn’t pull away.

“Looks like she caved,” Dally muttered with a grin.

Johnny frowned softly but didn’t say anything, while Soda smirked.

“Told ya,” Soda said.

Two-Bit elbowed me.

“Tutoring sessions, huh?” Two-Bit teased. “Maybe I should fail math on purpose.”

“Yeah, but you’d still flunk,” I shot back, smirking.

On our way to class, Shepard hung back with me. I nudged him.

“Alright, Tim,” I grumbled. “You’ve been hanging around, eating our food, making Darry grind his teeth. Why Tree Hill? You're just passing through, or is there more to it?”

Shepard’s smirk faded a little, eyes narrowing like he was weighing how much to give away.

“Got some business,” Tim Shepard said finally. “Somebody owed me, and I figured I’d check in on my favorite crew while I was at it. Don’t worry, I ain’t here to cramp your style.”

“Business?” I pressed.

He grinned again, sharp and unreadable.

“Don’t sweat it, Randle,” Shepard said. “You’ll see.”

And just like that, he strolled ahead to catch up with Dally, leaving me wondering if bringing Shepard into Tree Hill was about to blow up in all our faces.

The rest of the school day rolled out like every Tree Hill soap opera. Brooke was all cold shoulders toward Lucas, Peyton kept dodging Brooke, and half the hallways buzzed with whispers about the triangle. You’d think there wasn’t a math test or history quiz in sight.

Meanwhile, Nathan looked like a storm cloud. He went through the motions in class, but his head was miles away. Whenever Haley passed by, though, it was like the weight eased a little. Funny thing, seeing her, quiet, book-smart Haley, turning one of the loudest guys in the school into something softer.

By the final bell, we split like usual. Me, Soda, and Shepard headed to Keith’s auto shop, while Johnny, Pony, Dally, and Two-Bit made for the café.

Keith had me and Soda under the hood of an old Ford while Shepard leaned against the doorway, chain-smoking and swapping smart remarks. Keith gave him a few looks, the kind that said he wasn’t sure whether to tell him to get lost or hand him a wrench.

Nathan swung by before closing, surprising all of us. He didn’t stay long, but the look on Keith’s face after they’d talked seriously, man-to-man. Whatever Nathan carried into that shop was heavier than just a basketball.

The café side of the gang got its own dose of drama. Deb and Dan sat in the corner booth with Nathan, the three of them doing what looked like a family counseling session. Deb’s face was tired but hopeful, Dan’s was all stone, and Nathan’s was stuck in the middle. Johnny told me later that it looked more like a showdown than therapy.

Peyton came in, too, handing her dad a magazine with the new boat comic. She stood back while he read it. Lucas had been the one to show him, apparently. Her dad smiled, proud, and I guess it hit Peyton harder than she let on. For all her sarcasm, the girl just wanted to be seen.

By the time we regrouped at the house, Darry had dinner waiting, chili this time. We all crowded around, swapping what we’d seen.

Johnny leaned forward.

“Dan and Deb had a couple of counseling sessions with Nathan right there in the café,” Johnny said. “Deb’s trying, but Dan… same old Dan.”

“Whitey pulled Nathan aside after practice,” Pony added. “Asked him if he really loves basketball. Nathan said yeah… but he hates what it’s doing to his life.”

“Can’t blame him,” Dally muttered. “Pressure like that? No wonder the kids are messed up.”

Two-Bit grinned, cutting in.

“Oh, and Lucas and Brooke had themselves a little heart-to-heart,” Two-Bit said. She’s worried they’re too different. He says that’s the best part. Pretty smooth for a guy who shows up with gardening tools to save the day.”

That earned a laugh around the table, even Darry cracking a smile.

Soda chimed in.

“And Haley?” Soda asked. “Nathan told her he liked her the way she was when they first met. Doesn’t want her to change for him. Just stay the same.”

I shook my head, leaning back in my chair.

“Sounds like Nathan Scott might actually be turning into a halfway decent human being,” I said in disbelief.

Then Pony dropped the last piece.

“Nathan quit the basketball team,” Pony said. “Said he couldn’t do it anymore.”

The whole table went quiet.

Darry frowned, serious now.

“Big decision for a kid like him,” Darry said.

And that’s when Shepard cleared his throat, leaning forward with that smirk that usually meant trouble.

“You all been wonderin’ why I’m here,” Shepard said. “Truth is, one of my guys skipped out on a debt. Heard he ran through this town, figured I’d collect. Not planning to stir up your Tree Hill drama, but…” His eyes narrowed, grin sharp. “If I find him, it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

The table stiffened. Johnny looked pale, Pony tense. Darry’s jaw worked like he was ready to shut it all down.

“Long as you don’t drag us into it,” Darry said flatly, “Tree Hill’s got enough mess without you adding to it.”

Shepard leaned back, unbothered.

“Relax, Curtis,” Shepard said. “I’ll handle my business. You boys just keep playin’ high school.”

But the look in his eyes said it wasn’t gonna be that simple. Not with Shepard.

And as I sat there, I had a sinking feeling, Tree Hill might not know it yet, but it had just inherited Tulsa’s trouble.

Morning came faster than any of us wanted. The house was its usual zoo: Pony digging through a pile of books for his English paper, Soda whistling like he had no worries in the world, and Dally trying to steal Darry’s coffee when he thought nobody was looking.

Shepard was already awake, leaning against the kitchen counter with that lazy smirk like he’d never left Tulsa at all. Darry wasn’t too thrilled about him crashing another night under his roof, but he didn’t throw him out either. That said plenty.

By the time we hit the halls at Tree Hill High, the drama was already in motion. Word had spread fast: Nathan Scott was officially off the basketball team. Half the kids acted like someone had canceled Christmas, the other half like it was the juiciest gossip they’d ever heard.

Lucas caught more stares than usual, too, some supportive, some sharp, ‘cause everybody knew what Nathan quitting meant. The team was gonna lean harder on him, and the spotlight wasn’t going anywhere.

Brooke, of course, was still giving Peyton the cold shoulder. At cheer practice, you could feel the air crackle every time the two of them got within ten feet of each other. Brooke plastered on her big smile, but it was tight around the edges. Peyton just looked… tired, like she wanted to vanish behind her sketchbook.

At lunch, Nathan and Haley sat together at one of the side tables. He looked different, calmer, almost, while she was clearly still trying to figure him out. Dally nudged me and smirked, whispering, “Told you she’s gone soft for him.”

“She’s smart,” I muttered back, watching her laugh at something Nathan said. “Smarter than to get pulled in by a Scott. At least, I hope.”

Meanwhile, Shepard had managed to draw his own crowd in the cafeteria. A couple of Tree Hill guys, kids who usually shadowed Nathan and Tim Smith, were circling him, curious about the new “Tulsa tough guy.” Shepard lapped it up, tossing out stories half real, half bluff. You could tell he liked the attention.

“Steve,” Pony muttered, leaning closer, “you think he’s gonna cause problems here?”

I sighed, pushing my tray away.

“It’s Shepard,” I muttered. “Problems are like his shadow. We’ll just have to keep him from burning the place down.”

The bell rang, scattering us off to class, but the weight of it stuck with me: Nathan quitting, Brooke and Peyton ready to explode, Shepard prowling around Tree Hill like he owned it.

And for the first time since we’d moved here, I started to wonder if maybe this little town had more fire than Tulsa ever did.

Chapter Text

Chapter 26

Dally’s POV

Mornings in Tree Hill were still a circus, no matter how many days we’d been here. Darry barkin’ orders, Pony tryin’ to grab his books last minute, Two-Bit clownin’ when we were already late, and Soda wolfing down toast while Steve complained about havin’ to play chauffeur to Keith’s auto shop later. I just lit up a smoke at the edge of the kitchen counter and let the madness roll. Darry hated it, but hey, he couldn’t watch all of us at once.

On the walk to school, Shepard finally opened up about why he was hangin’ around Tree Hill. We’d been side-eyein him for days, guessin’ he was up to somethin’ shady. Turns out, he wasn’t just driftin’. He was lookin’ for a guy who skipped town on some debt back in Tulsa, one that crossed Shepard and his crew. That explained why he was always scanning the crowds, sizing up new faces. The Tree Hill kids didn’t know what to make of him, whisperin’ about the “dangerous greaser” tailin’ us around. But for us, Shepard bein’ Shepard wasn’t news.

School itself kicked off with the kind of drama only Tree Hill could cook up. Word flew down the halls: Dan and Keith Scott’s parents were in town. Everyone had an opinion, especially since the Scotts already had enough family drama to fill a whole damn novel. Lucas looked torn up just hearin’ it, and Nathan wasn’t much better, stormin’ off like he always did when his old man’s name came up.

At lunch, the gang caught it all: whispers about Nathan walkin’ out on basketball, Brooke smirkin’ over Lucas’s attention, and Peyton sittin’ quiet, still sore about her dad leavin’ on that boat trip. Shepard leaned back in his chair, watchin’ the Tree Hill circus with this half-grin like he was in on some joke the rest of us missed.

Me? I figured Tree Hill had just gotten a little hotter. Between Shepard’s hunt, the Scotts’ folks showin’ up, and all this teen drama boilin’ over, I had a feeling somethin’ big was comin’.

By mid-morning, the gossip mill was workin’ harder than Two-Bit with a free keg. Word was out, Dan Scott wasn’t just buttin’ heads with Nathan and Lucas anymore, he was draggin’ Deb into his circus too. Apparently, Dan wanted her to put on a happy-marriage act for his parents, like they weren’t practically living separate lives already. On top of that, he was pressurin’ her to pretend Nathan was still suiting up for the Ravens. The whole thing stank of desperation, like Dan couldn’t stand the thought of his parents seeing the cracks in his shiny picture-perfect family.

At school, it was all anybody was talkin’ about. Lucas was stewin’, torn between bein’ mad at Dan for ropin’ Deb into his lies and bein’ worried about Nathan. Nathan, on the other hand, just looked done with the whole damn thing. You could see it in the way he carried himself, shoulders stiff, jaw set, like he was waitin’ for the next fight.

The guys and I hung around the lockers, watchin’ it all unfold.

“Man, that Dan’s a real piece of work,” Steve muttered.

Two-Bit grinned.

“You sayin’ he’d fit right in back home?” Two-Bit teased.

“Back home, we’d know how to deal with him,” I shot back, smirkin’. “Guy’s all bark, no follow-through.”

Shepard, leanin’ against the wall like he owned the joint, just laughed low in his throat.

“Control freaks like him, they break eventually,” Shepard said. “Just a matter of time.” The Tree Hill kids passed him like he was a loaded gun left on the table.

By the last period, Peyton was keepin’ her head down, Brooke was chirpin’ away about weekend plans, and Haley was stickin’ close to Nathan, tryin’ to smooth the storm he was carryin’ on his shoulders. Lucas caught our eyes across the hall, his face saying he was already schemin’ how to stand his ground against Dan’s latest game.

The thing about Tree Hill? You didn’t need to be on the team to feel the tension. Even we greasers, outsiders through and through, could feel it; the Scott family drama was spilling into every corner of this town.

And somethin’ told me the day wasn’t done yet.

After school, the gang split like always—me, Johnny, Pony, and Two-Bit headin’ to the café while Soda and Steve went to Keith’s shop. Darry, of course, was already puttin’ in a full day at construction.
The café was quiet at first, just the hum of the soda machine and Deb keepin’ herself busy behind the counter. Then the bell jingled, and in walked this older guy, stiff posture, sharp eyes, dressed cleaner than anyone else in Tree Hill on a weekday. He had the same Scott face, only older.

Haley was the first to step up, smiling like she always did with customers.

“Hi, can I help you?” Haley asked.

The guy barely looked at the menu.

“I’m looking for Karen Roe,” He said. “Is she in?” His voice was firm, like he was used to people jumpin’ when he talked.

Haley shook her head.

“She’s out of town for a while,” Haley said. “Is there something I can do for you?”

The man studied her for a second, then gave this small, dismissive shake of his head.

“No. Thank you.” He turned on his heel and walked out, the bell jinglin’ behind him.

We all glanced at each other. Pony leaned toward me.

“That was Dan and Keith’s dad, right?” Pony asked nervously.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “And he doesn’t look like the type to take no for an answer.”

A little later, the phone rang behind the counter. Haley answered, and I could hear her tone shift right away, lighter, nervous. Nathan. She turned her back, tryin’ to keep it private, but we all caught enough. He was askin’ her to come to dinner at his place, with the grandparents there.

“I’ll go… but only if the Tulsa crew can come too,” Haley said as she bit her lip. “Including Darry.”

My brows shot up.

“You serious?” I muttered under my breath to Johnny. “Dinner at Casa Scott? With Dan and his old man?”

Johnny shrugged.

“Guess Haley doesn’t want to walk in there alone,” Johnny muttered.

By the time Haley hung up, her cheeks were pink and her smile was nervous but excited.

“So… looks like you guys are having dinner at Nathan’s tonight,” Haley said.

Two-Bit chuckled.

“Well, this is gonna be one hell of a show,” Two-Bit said.

I leaned back against the counter, smirking but already feelin’ the tension that was comin’. Dinner with the Scotts. With Dan, Deb, Nathan, the grandparents… and us. The greasers.

Yeah, this was gonna get interesting.

By the time shifts wrapped, we’d swapped our aprons for whatever halfway decent clothes we had back at the Curtis place. Soda and Steve were already waiting when we got home, wiping grease off their hands from the shop. Darry didn’t look thrilled when he found out what we were about to do, but he didn’t say no either. Haley had asked, and that carried weight with him.

The walk up to the Scotts’ house felt like we were storming enemy territory. Big place, polished, like the kind of house you only saw in magazines. Dan Scott’s house.

Deb greeted us at the door, a warm smile plastered across her face, though you could see the nerves in her eyes.

“I’m so glad you all came,” Deb said. “Nathan will be happy to have the support.”

Inside, the table was already set, really nice, silverware lined up like in some etiquette book. Nathan sat there stiffly, clearly not wanting to be anywhere near this dinner. Lucas looked uncomfortable as hell, too, sitting across from him. The grandparents were there, Dan and Keith’s folks. Old man Scott, sharp eyes, iron-straight back, and his wife, softer but still carryin’ that air of judgment.

Inside, the table was already set, really nice, silverware lined up like in some etiquette book. Nathan sat there stiffly, clearly not wanting to be anywhere near this dinner. Lucas looked uncomfortable as hell, too, sitting across from him. The grandparents were there, Dan and Keith’s folks. Old man Scott, sharp eyes, iron-straight back, and his wife, softer but still carryin’ that air of judgment.

And then there was Dan. Smilin’ that fake smile that didn’t fool anybody. The kind that made you wanna break something.

Dinner started politely enough. Deb kept things moving, askin’ questions, passin’ food, tryin’ to keep the tension low. Haley sat next to Nathan, trying to ease him into conversation. We spread out down the table, us Tulsa boys tryin’ to blend but keepin’ watch. Darry especially looked like he was ready to jump in if things got ugly.

“Lucas,” Old Man Scott said, setting down his fork. “We’re glad to finally meet you. We’ve heard… little about you, but we know you’re Keith’s boy.”

Lucas nodded, jaw tight.

“That’s right,” Lucas said. “Keith raised me. He’s the reason I play basketball.”

That made Dan’s smile falter, just for a second. He quickly covered it, cutting in.

“Lucas has been a fine addition to the team,” Dan said. “Of course, Nathan’s still the leader, but…”

“Leader?” Nathan barked out a laugh, dropping his fork. “I quit the team.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You could’ve heard a pin drop. Old Man Scott’s face hardened, his eyes narrowing. “You what?”

Nathan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“I’m done with basketball,” Nathan growled. “Done with you controlling my life.”

Dan’s jaw clenched, his smile gone now.

“Nathan, don’t be ridiculous…” Dan scuffed.

“I’m not being ridiculous!” Nathan snapped, voice rising. “I don’t want to play your game anymore. Not for you.”

The grandmother gasped softly. Deb put a hand on Nathan’s arm, but he shrugged it off.

I felt the weight of it, the truth hangin’ heavy in the room. The Scotts were splinterin’ right in front of us, and it wasn’t just about basketball, it was about control, about family, about everything Dan had poisoned.

Darry finally spoke up, voice calm but steady.

“Maybe he’s just tryin’ to figure out who he wants to be,” Darry said. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”

All eyes flicked to him, the outsider. But he didn’t flinch. He met Dan’s glare head-on.

Nathan gave the tiniest nod, like Darry had just given him some backup he desperately needed.

Dinner stumbled on after that, but the damage was done. Conversation turned stiff, forced. The Tulsa gang exchanged looks the whole time, knowin’ we’d just witnessed somethin’ that was gonna blow up even bigger soon.

When we finally got out of there, we stepped back into the cool night air.

“Well, that was a damn circus,” Two-Bit muttered.

“Yeah,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets. “And I got a feelin’ the show’s just gettin’ started.”

We didn’t even make it off the front steps before the shouting started.

Nathan’s voice cut sharply through the night: “You don’t own me, Dad!”

We turned, all of us half-shadowed by the porch light, watching Nathan square off against Dan in the driveway. Dan’s smile was gone, mask dropped, and he looked like he was about to pop a vein.

“You ungrateful little…” Dan started, stepping closer.

“No,” Nathan snapped, standing his ground. “I’m done. I quit basketball, and I’m done letting you tell me who I’m supposed to be.” His hands were balled into fists, his shoulders tense, but his voice didn’t crack.

Haley was hovering just behind him, nervous but steady, like she’d dive in if Nathan needed her.

Dan glanced around, realizing all of us were watching. Darry crossed his arms, jaw tight, and I could tell by his stance he was seconds from stepping in if Dan laid a hand on his kid.

Dan must’ve felt it too, because instead of grabbing Nathan, he just sneered. “You think you’re making some big stand? You’re throwing away your future. You’ll regret this.”

Nathan’s laugh was bitter. “The only thing I regret is wasting so much time trying to make you proud.”

That one landed like a punch. Dan froze, his jaw tightening, but Nathan turned away before he could fire back. Haley caught up to him quickly, touching his arm.

“Nathan,” Haley said softly, “you don’t have to go through this alone.”

He looked at her, and for the first time that night, his face softened. He gave her a small nod, like she was the one thing keeping him steady.

Dan stormed back into the house, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoed in the quiet street.

The rest of us stayed still a moment, the tension still buzzing. Finally, Two-Bit whistled low.

“Well,” Two-Bit said. “Dinner and a show.”

Johnny shot him a look.

“This isn’t funny,” Johnny said.

“Wasn’t jokin’,” Two-Bit muttered, but he shoved his hands in his pockets, looking uneasy.

Nathan and Haley started walking down the street together, their heads bent close. She was talkin’ low, steadying him, and he actually looked calmer the longer she was there.

Soda gave a crooked grin.

“Guess we’re not the only ones with complicated families,” Soda said.

On the walk back home, Pony was quiet, thinking hard. He finally spoke up.

“Dan… he’s like every drunk, mean dad back in Tulsa rolled into one guy,” Pony said. “But worse, ‘cause he knows exactly what he’s doing.”

Nobody disagreed. Darry just kept walking ahead, his shoulders squared. He didn’t say it out loud, but I could tell what he was thinkin’: no matter what, he wasn’t gonna let us end up like Nathan.

When we finally made it back to the Curtis house, the heaviness followed us in. We didn’t joke much, didn’t raise our voices. We just sat with it. Another family ripped apart by control, by expectations, by someone who didn’t know when to quit.

And as I stretched out on the couch later, I couldn’t help but think, Tree Hill was lookin’ more and more like Tulsa every day. The only difference was that here, the cracks were hidden behind polished houses and shiny cars.

Chapter Text

Chapter 27

Johnny’s POV

Morning light spilled through the blinds, cutting across the kitchen where Darry already had the coffee going. Soda was humming off-key, flipping pancakes like he thought he was some diner cook, and Two-Bit was laughing at his own joke before anyone else even heard it. Normal chaos. Almost.

Tim Shepard leaned against the doorway, a smirk plastered on his face like it was glued there. He’d spent the last few days circling Tree Hill like a shark, drawing whispers from kids who didn’t know what kind of storm he carried. Now, though, he was stuffing his cigarettes back into his jacket, talking about how he’d “finished his business” and was hitting the road.

Didn’t say exactly what he did, or who got left bleeding in the dust. That was Shepard, never gave details, just left you wondering.
Before he left, he gave Darry one last grin.

“Keep your brothers outta trouble,” Shepard said. “ This town looks soft, but soft gets cut quick.”

Then he was gone, and the air felt lighter, but heavier at the same time. Shepard had a way of stirring things up, and Tree Hill wasn’t gonna forget him soon.

At school, Haley caught us first. She looked nervous, clutching her books tight like they’d keep her steady.

“I had this nightmare,” Haley told us, voice rushing. “That I had to shoot the game-winning basket in front of the whole school. Like me. Of all people.”

Two-Bit cackled so loud the cheerleaders down the hall turned to look.

“Would’ve paid money to see that, Tutor Girl,” Two-Bit teased.

Haley groaned, burying her face in her hands, but even I smiled. The girl had more guts than she gave herself credit for.

Lucas and Peyton were at their lockers, voices low. We weren’t close enough to catch everything, but the guilt was written all over their faces. They’d kissed, and now they were trying to bury it like it never happened. Only, you can’t bury fire; it smolders.

Brooke swooped in, all confidence and bright smiles.

“What’s the latest schedule, huh?” Brooke asked.

When nobody answered quickly enough, she smirked.

“You guys never have any good gossip,” Brooke complained. Then she pivoted, rapid-fire. “Peyton…you’re still in for tonight? Lucas…you in for some heavy lifting?”

Brooke breezed out before either of them could respond. Peyton sighed like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Lucas just looked caught.

At lunch, the real gossip spilled. Word was that Deb and Dan’s counseling session had turned into a circus when the therapist steered things toward Lucas. The Scotts avoided the subject like it was radioactive, but that only made the whispers louder.

“Sounds like a minefield,” Steve muttered, stabbing at his fries.

“Sounds like Dan,” Dally said flatly. “Man’s poison, no matter which way you spin it.”

I didn’t argue. Watching Nathan walk through the cafeteria like he carried bricks in his chest said enough.

Me? I kept thinking about Shepard’s words. Soft gets cut quick.

Tree Hill wasn’t soft. It was bleeding under the surface, just like Tulsa. And somehow, we’d stepped right into the middle of it.

The bell rang out on the last period, and the halls buzzed with everyone spilling out, chasing freedom for the day. That’s when we spotted Lucas comin’ out of the locker room, hair damp, duffel slung over his shoulder. Peyton was waiting, arms crossed tight, like she wasn’t sure if she should even be there.

“Brooke already left,” Lucas said, stepping closer. “I need to call her later. But I wanted to talk to you first.”
Peyton shook her head, nervous, already on guard.

“Lucas, we can’t,” Peyton said. “Whatever that was, it doesn’t go anywhere.”

Lucas’s voice dropped, almost pleading.

“I can’t just bury it, Peyton,” Lucas said. “Not when it…”

She cut him off.

“Brooke is my best friend,” Peytong said. “You’re dating her. That’s where this ends.”

Her eyes flicked away, and you could tell she wanted to run. But Lucas wasn’t letting her. He reached out, caught her hand, and before she could pull back, he kissed her.

For half a second, she froze, then gave in, kissing him back. The air around them went electric, like the whole hallway was holding its breath.

When they broke apart, Lucas said quietly, “That means something.”

Peyton’s voice cracked just a little.

“It can’t,” Peyton said. “Not with Brooke. It can’t.” She spun and left before he could say more, heels clacking against the tile, leaving Lucas staring after her like he’d lost something he wasn’t even sure he had yet.

Me and the guys I? We didn’t need to trade words. The look on Pony’s face said it all, like he’d just seen a story unfold and didn’t know how it was gonna end, only that it was gonna hurt.

At the café, the shift was steady. Me, Pony, Two-Bit, and Dally wiped tables, ran orders, and kept ears open. Haley helped out, her head still buzzing with Nathan, I could tell.

Deb came in from the back office, smoothing her blouse like she’d been wrestling ghosts in there.

“So, Deb, how’d that counseling session go?” Two-Bit asked. “You and Dan finally figure out which of you gets the last word?”

Deb chuckled, but it was tired, heavy.

“Let’s just say… it was about as productive as you’d imagine,” Deb said. “We danced around Lucas, as usual. Dan refuses to let the therapist even say his name.”

“Shocking,” Dally said flatly, leaning against the counter.

Deb sighed. “I just… I’m trying, you know? For Nathan. But sometimes I wonder if Dan even cares about what’s best for him. He just cares about appearances.”

The room got quiet at that. We’d all seen it. The Scotts were like a pressure cooker about to blow, and no amount of therapy was gonna hold that lid down.

Out the window, we could see the sunset slanting low, the streetlights kicking on one by one. Soda and Steve were still back at Keith’s shop, probably covered in grease and laughing at something dumb. But here, at the café, the air was thick with tension and secrets.

Tree Hill wasn’t just small-town drama anymore; it was starting to feel like Tulsa with a shinier paint job. And deep down, I knew this Lucas-Peyton-Brooke mess was about to get ugly.

By the time our shift ended and we walked home from the café, Soda and Steve were already back from Keith’s shop. The smell of dinner hit us as soon as we stepped inside, Darry at the stove, sleeves rolled up, doing his usual thing of making sure all of us got fed before he even sat down.

We crowded around the table like always, plates piled high, voices bouncing off the walls. Darry looked around once we were all settled, like he was bracing himself.

“Alright,” Darry said. “What’s the word today?”

Two-Bit grinned.

“Oh, man, where do we start?” Two-Bit asked. “The Scotts are circling the drain faster than ever.”

Dally leaned back in his chair, a smirk curling.

“Deb told us Dan’s got the therapist dancing in circles, refusing to even let Lucas’s name get brought up,” Dally said. “The whole session was basically a waste.”

Pony cut in, his tone softer.

“She looked tired, though,” Pony said. “Like she’s really trying, even if Dan won’t.”

Darry nodded once, like that didn’t surprise him at all.

Steve wiped his hands on a napkin, leaning forward.

“Over at the shop?” Steve asked. “You’ll like this one, Darry. Keith was tossin’ back a drink with Whitey. Wanted to celebrate Whitey’s upcoming five-hundredth win.”

“Sounds about right,” Soda said with a grin. “Keith always finds an excuse for a drink.”

But Steve’s face went serious.

“Thing is, Whitey dropped a bomb,” Steve said. “Said the win might not even happen ‘cause he might quit.”

The table went quiet for a second.

“Quit?” Darry frowned. “Man’s been coaching forever.”

“Keith said the same thing,” Steve replied. “Told him he still loves it, but Whitey said love ain’t enough if he can’t keep it up. That maybe it’s time.”

Two-Bit let out a low whistle.

“Tree Hill without Whitey?” Two-Bit asked. “That’d be like Tulsa without trouble. Don’t even sound right.”

Soda jabbed his fork into his mashed potatoes.

“Nathan quit, Whitey’s thinking about quitting, Dan’s losing his grip, feels like the whole town’s about to fall apart,” Soda said.

I poked at my food, listening to them all trade pieces of gossip like puzzle parts. And maybe that’s exactly what it was: Tree Hill was a puzzle that didn’t quite fit together anymore.

Darry sat back finally, arms crossed, expression dark.

“Whatever’s going on with the Scotts, with Whitey, with all of it, we just keep our heads clear,” Darry said. “We stick together. That’s what matters.”

I glanced around the table, at Soda’s grin, Two-Bit’s restless tapping, Pony scribbling notes in the margins of his notebook, Dally flicking his fork against his plate. Yeah, we stuck together. We always had. But this town had a way of pulling you into its mess, whether you wanted it or not.

And from the look on Darry’s face, he knew it too.

After dinner, the house settled into its usual rhythm, dishes clattering in the sink, Soda humming as he wiped down the table, Pony hunched over his homework with his pencil flying. Dally flipped through channels on the TV until Darry barked at him to quit wasting electricity. Just another night.

Then the phone rang. Pony picked it up, nodded, and handed it to Darry.

“It’s Lucas,” Pony called.

Darry listened for a moment, then looked around at us.

“Lucas is heading to the airport to pick up Karen with Keith,” Darry said. “Asked if we want to tag along.”

No one argued. We’d all grown attached to Karen, and the thought of welcoming her back from Italy felt like a homecoming. Minutes later, we were crammed into Keith’s truck. Keith himself had insisted on driving; he’d already cracked open a beer earlier, brushing off Darry’s disapproving look with a wave of his hand.

The drive started light, Two-Bit cracking jokes from the back, Soda tossing out dumb impressions that made Pony roll his eyes. Steve leaned back, smirking, while Dally tapped the glass in rhythm with the radio. Lucas rode up front, glancing at Keith with that mix of affection and worry he always carried for him.

Keith took another swig from the bottle between shifts of the gear, muttering about how much Karen was gonna love seeing Lucas surrounded by all of us.

The closer we got to the airport, the more the laughter died down, anticipation settling in. I sat back, watching the glow of headlights streak past, thinking maybe, for once, things might feel right again.
But life never worked that way. Not in Tulsa. Not in Tree Hill.

It happened in a blink. Headlights swerved across the intersection. Keith, reflexes slowed from the beer, yanked the wheel too late. Tires screeched. Metal slammed against metal, the sound so violent it rattled my bones. Glass shattered like gunfire.

The world spun, weightless, until it all stopped with a sickening jolt.

Silence.

The air smelled like burnt rubber and smoke. My ears rang. Around me, the guys groaned, shaken but alive. Pony clutched his arm, Dally cursed under his breath, Soda tried to sit up, face pale.

Up front, Lucas was frozen, wide-eyed, staring at Keith. Darry was already twisting around, his voice low but steady, checking us over even though I could see the fear burning in his eyes.

We were still here. But the ground under us had shifted.

And I knew, this accident was gonna change everything.

The wail of sirens filled the night, red and blue lights slicing through the smoke. My head throbbed, but I could walk, so I stumbled alongside the others as paramedics swarmed. They loaded Keith onto a stretcher; he was groaning, face pale, blood at his temple. Lucas stuck close, refusing to let go of his uncle’s hand even as they pushed him toward the ambulance.

“Lucas, you need to ride separately,” a medic said firmly.

“I’m not leaving him!” Lucas snapped, voice breaking.

Darry stepped in, calm but steady.

“He’ll ride with him,” Darry told the medic. “We’ll follow.” The medic hesitated, then nodded, and Lucas climbed into the back, eyes locked on Keith like sheer willpower would keep him breathing.

We piled into another ambulance, packed too tight, everyone bruised but alive. Soda winced as a paramedic checked the cut on his forehead. Pony sat stiff, arm cradled close, refusing to admit it hurt. Steve swore under his breath the whole ride. Two-Bit tried to make a joke, but his voice cracked halfway through. Dally leaned back with his jaw set, eyes hard, like he hated showing he was rattled.
Me? I just sat there numb, the siren howling in my skull.

The hospital was in chaos. Fluorescent lights are too bright. The smell of antiseptic mixed with burnt rubber still clings to my clothes. Nurses rushed us through, checking us over one by one. Darry answered most of the questions, steadying the rest of us like he always did.

We found ourselves in the waiting area, bandaged up and shaken. Lucas paced, running both hands through his hair, muttering to himself.

“What if he doesn’t make it?” Lucas asked. “What if…”

“Hey.” Darry’s voice cut firm. “Don’t go there. He’s tough. He’ll pull through.”

A doctor came out not long after, calling for “Scott.” Lucas jumped to his feet, heart in his throat. The doc explained that Keith was stable but needed monitoring. A concussion, some cracked ribs, nothing that couldn’t heal. Relief washed over Lucas’s face, but his hands still shook.

Then Dan showed up. Of course he did. Storming in like he owned the place, eyes blazing.

“What the hell happened?” Dan barked. His glare landed on Lucas first, then on us, then finally on the doors where Keith was. “He was drinking, wasn’t he? My idiot brother, drunk behind the wheel!”

Lucas flinched like the words were blows. Darry stepped forward, placing himself between Dan and the rest of us.

“Now’s not the time,” Darry said. His voice was low, controlled, but you could feel the weight behind it.

Dan sneered, but didn’t press. He turned back to the doctor, demanding more details, trying to take control.

The rest of us sat there, bruised and quiet, the truth hanging in the air. Keith had been drinking. We all knew it. And Lucas, Lucas looked like he was carrying that guilt all by himself.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling, trying to block out Dan’s voice, the buzzing lights, the ache in my bones. But no matter how I tried, I couldn’t shake the thought that Tree Hill was starting to feel like one long fight you couldn’t walk away from.

And tonight, we’d just been dragged deeper into it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 28

Pony’s POV

The next morning felt heavier than usual, like the weight of last night’s crash still hung in the air. None of us had slept right, not me, not Soda, not Johnny, not Two-Bit, not Steve, not Dally, not even Darry. The sound of screeching tires and the crunch of metal still rattled around in my head.

Breakfast was quiet. Darry tried to keep us moving like nothing was broken, reminding us to eat before school, but even he sounded tired. Soda cracked a joke that usually would’ve had Two-Bit rolling, but it fizzled. Johnny just pushed food around his plate, and even Dally didn’t have the energy to smart off.

But it wasn’t just the accident weighing us down; it was Karen. She’d walked into the hospital last night, right after everything happened. She barely even had time to set her bag down before rushing into Lucas’s room, eyes red and full of worry. The timing was crazy, almost like fate. She hadn’t been back five minutes before she had to face something like that.

Walking to school, it felt like all of Tree Hill was already buzzing. People knew about the crash, Lucas, Keith, and the rest of us being there, and they knew Karen was finally back. Word spread fast here, maybe faster than back home.

At school, the stares were worse. Some kids came up and asked if Lucas was okay, if Keith was really drunk at the wheel, or if Karen was gonna keep him from driving again. Others just whispered from their lockers, like we were carrying some big secret that only they wanted in on.

The gang stuck together. I stayed close to Johnny, the two of us trailing behind Soda and Steve. Dally walked ahead, shoulders squared like he was daring anyone to even bring it up. Two-Bit tried to make light of things, but I saw the tension in his eyes.

What got me most was how raw everyone looked. Haley was pale as a sheet, Nathan looked like he hadn’t slept, Brooke didn’t have her usual spark, and Peyton seemed more locked up than ever. It was like the accident hadn’t just shaken us; it sent ripples through the whole school.

And me? I couldn’t stop thinking about Karen, how she’d come back just in time to walk into this storm. One second, we were on our way to pick her up, and the next, we were standing in the wreckage. Somehow, she was right there to see it all play out.

Tree Hill didn’t give anybody time to breathe. And somehow, we Tulsa boys were stuck right in the middle of it.

By the time the first period rolled around, it felt like the whole school had already replayed last night’s accident ten different ways. I heard whispers every time we walked past a knot of students.

“Lucas almost died.”

“Keith was drunk behind the wheel.”

“Karen came back just in time to see it.”

Some of it was true. Some of it wasn’t. But gossip in Tree Hill had a way of getting louder than the truth.

Me, Johnny, Soda, Steve, Dally, and Two-Bit stuck together in the hallway. Darry wasn’t with us, already off to work, but I knew he was probably grinding his teeth through the day, waiting for word about Lucas and Keith.

“Man, people are staring like we’re circus freaks,” Two-Bit muttered, adjusting the strap of his backpack. “Shoulda brought popcorn if they were gonna put on a show.”
Soda nudged him, smirking faintly.
“Don’t tempt ‘em,” Soda said. “Half these kids might take you up on it.”

But Steve wasn’t laughing. He was tense, jaw set, scanning the hallway like he wanted someone to step up and say something. Dally walked like he owned the place, daring anyone to get smart. Johnny kept close to me, quiet as usual, but his eyes flicked from face to face like he couldn’t settle.

When we rounded the corner near the tutoring center, we saw Haley standing with Nathan. Nathan’s face looked worn out, pale under the fluorescent lights. Haley was talking low, trying to soothe him.

“You don’t have to carry all this alone,” Haley said, her hand brushing his arm. “What happened last night, none of it’s on you.”

Nathan shook his head.

“You don’t get it,” Nathan said with a sigh. “My whole family’s a mess. Dad, Mom, grandparents, every time I think it can’t get worse, it does. And now Lucas…”

“Hey,” Haley cut him off firmly. “Lucas is alive. That’s what matters. And you, you’re not your dad, Nathan. You can make different choices.”

It was tender, raw. More real than most things I’d overheard between couples at school.

“Guess Romeo found himself a Juliet,” Two-Bit muttered at my side. I elbowed him lightly to hush.

A little further down the hall, we spotted Peyton and Lucas by the lockers. Brooke wasn’t around, just the two of them, standing closer than they probably should have.

“I still feel guilty,” Peyton admitted, her voice soft. “About the kiss. About Brooke.”

Lucas rubbed the back of his neck, his voice low and insistent.

“We can’t just pretend it didn’t happen,” Lucas said. “It meant something.”

Peyton glanced away, eyes clouded.

“It can’t mean anything, Lucas,” Peyton said. “Brooke’s my best friend. I can’t do that to her.”

Lucas didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at her like he was searching for the right words. Finally, he said, “You don’t have to keep pretending you’re fine, Peyton. Not with me.”
Her face flickered with something, fear, maybe, or longing, before she pulled away.

“Don’t,” Peyton whispered. “Just… don’t.” And then she turned and walked down the hall, leaving him standing there, looking wrecked.

Johnny let out a soft sigh beside me.

“Man, this is gonna blow up on ‘em,” Johnny murmured. “You can’t keep secrets like that forever.”

He wasn’t wrong.

By lunch, the talk had shifted again. Whitey’s announcement spread like wildfire: no basketball practice until further notice. Some kids looked disappointed; others, like Nathan, were almost relieved.
“Guess Coach finally had enough,” Steve muttered as we sat at a cafeteria table.

“More like he’s worried one of his boys is gonna keel over before he hits that five-hundredth win,” Dally said, biting into an apple. “Can’t blame him. Scott family drama’s poison, and it’s spilling onto the court.”

Soda shook his head, green eyes serious.

“Still…Nathan loves the game,” Soda said. “He just hates what it’s doing to him. Whitey calling a break might be the best thing for him.”

Two-Bit leaned back in his chair.

“Or the worst,” Two-Bit said. “That boy without a basketball? He might crack in half.”

We all fell quiet at that. Even Dally didn’t have a comeback.

The rest of the day dragged. Every class felt heavy, every hallway full of whispers. Peyton kept her head down. Brooke was nowhere to be seen for most of the day, and Lucas looked like he was carrying ten different storms inside him.

By the last bell, I was exhausted, not just from classes, but from watching how fast everything was unraveling in Tree Hill.
And I knew we hadn’t even hit the worst of it yet.

After school split us in two directions, Soda and Steve heading for Keith’s shop while me, Johnny, Two-Bit, and Dally made our way to Karen’s Café. The air felt heavier than usual when we pushed through the door. Karen was back, but instead of her usual warm smile and easy laugh, she carried herself stiffly, her face still clouded with anger and worry.

She looked up from behind the counter, arms crossed.

“You boys are late,” Karen said.

“We ain’t late,” Dally shot back, smirking like always. “You just started counting early.”

Karen didn’t even blink.

“Not in the mood, Dallas,” Karen said.

That shut him up faster than anything I’d ever seen. He slumped into silence, heading to the back to grab an apron.

Two-Bit leaned over to me and Johnny.

“Guess we know who’s still sore about the accident,” Two-Bit muttered.

Karen must’ve heard because she said, sharp but not cruel, “Sore doesn’t begin to cover it, Keith almost killed my son. And you all were in that car, too.” She exhaled, trying to pull herself together, but her voice softened just slightly. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.”

Johnny, quiet but steady, spoke up.

“We get it, ma’am,” Johnny said. “We’re just glad he’s okay, too.”

She gave him a faint nod, like she appreciated it.

The café picked up as the evening went on. Customers shuffled in, ordering coffee and sandwiches, trying to shake off their own long days. Deb dropped by too, sleeves rolled up, offering to help with the dinner rush. She and Karen exchanged this quiet, loaded glance that said more than words, like two women both shouldering more than they should have to.

I stayed busy running orders, but I caught snippets of talk: kids gossiping about Nathan quitting basketball, others whispering about Lucas being spotted with Peyton instead of Brooke. Every bit of it made the air tighter in here.

Meanwhile, over at Keith’s shop, Soda and Steve had their own kind of evening. When we regrouped later, Soda said Keith worked like a man who needed to outrun his own thoughts. Barely any talking, just handing tools, wiping sweat, and tightening bolts.

Steve said he tried to lighten the mood, but Keith shut it down. Finally, Soda asked about Whitey, about basketball, about anything, and Keith just muttered, “Whitey’s thinking about quitting. Guess we’re all getting older.” Then he went back to work like the world hadn’t just shifted under his feet.

By the time we clocked out, Karen looked worn but steadier, Deb was wiping down counters, and the shop boys came back with grease on their hands and worry on their faces.

It was clear: Tree Hill wasn’t just carrying gossip anymore. It was carrying scars.

And none of us knew how deep they’d run by the time this was all over.

By the time we all straggled home, the house smelled like something Darry had pulled together quickly but hearty: pork chops, green beans, and mashed potatoes. He had his sleeves rolled up, sweat still on his brow from work, but there was this determined look in his eyes. Like, no matter how sideways the world was going, he’d make sure we sat down to dinner.

We crowded around the table, the scrape of chairs and clatter of plates filling the space until Darry broke the silence.

“Alright,” Darry said with a sigh. “Let’s hear it. What’s the news from Tree Hill today?”

Two-Bit grinned, leaning back like he’d been waiting for the prompt.

“You mean besides everyone whisperin’ about Lucas kissing Peyton?” Two-Bit teased.

Dally barked a laugh.

“Yeah, that’s making the rounds,” Darry said. “Whole town’s got more interest in who Lucas Scott kisses than their own lives.”

Soda elbowed Steve.

“Tell ‘em what Keith was like today at the shop,” Soda said.

Steve nodded, more serious.

“Keith was really quiet,” Steve said. “Wouldn’t look us in the eye half the time. He told us Whitey might be quitting basketball soon, like he can’t keep going forever. But it wasn’t just that; he looked beat down. Guilt written all over him.”

Darry frowned, setting down his fork.

“He should feel guilty,” Darry said. He was drinking before driving you boys. You could’ve been killed.”

That shut us all up for a minute. I poked at my food, the memory of twisted metal and the sound of screeching tires flashing in my head.

“Well, Karen is still mad about the car accident,” Johnny said.

“She should be,” Darry said.

“Keith was going to propose to Karen before the car accident happened,” Soda said.

That opened the floodgates.

Two-Bit leaned forward, eyes wide.

“Well, that ain’t going to happen soon,” Two-Bit joked. “He stuck his foot up his ass with that one.”

“Heard Dan might be turning over a new leaf,” Two-Bit said. “Bet that is a move by him to get Deb back.”

Soda snorted.

“Classic Dan Scott move,” Soda said. “Controlling the story, even when it’s falling apart.”

Darry shook his head, chewing slower, like the whole mess tasted bitter.

“That kind of lie only lasts so long,” Darry said. “Truth always finds its way out.”

Johnny shifted in his chair.

“Haley told us she’s nervous,” Johnny said. “Nathan’s parents are fighting, Lucas is caught in the middle with Peyton and Brooke, and now Whitey might walk away. It feels like everything’s coming apart all at once.”

The table got quiet again. Even Two-Bit didn’t crack a joke.

Finally, Darry sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Then we stick together,” Darry said. “We can’t fix all of Tree Hill’s drama, but we can have each other’s backs. That’s what matters.”

I caught Johnny’s nod across the table, Soda’s grin softening, even Dally’s shoulders dropping just a little.

Tree Hill was a storm, but here at the Curtis table, it still felt like we had an anchor.

Chapter Text

Chapter 29

Darry’s POV

The hospital air still clung to me even after we stepped outside; that faint antiseptic smell burned into my lungs. We were all worn thin; Lucas’s near-death scare had rattled everybody, but especially the kids. Soda was quiet, which didn’t happen often. Pony had that faraway look he got when his mind was racing, his shoulders slumped under more weight than any kid should carry.

Steve walked with his hands shoved in his pockets, keeping close to Soda, like he was making sure his buddy didn’t crack. Johnny stuck near Pony, small and tired but steady, while Two-Bit tried to keep things light, though even his jokes fell flat. Dally, of course, looked like he was itching for a fight just to let out what he couldn’t say.

I led us down the dark street, every step measured.

“We’ll grab food at home,” I finally said, my voice firm just to fill the silence. “Y’all need something in your stomachs before you crash.”

“Hospital food doesn’t count?” Two-Bit asked weakly, trying for a grin.

Soda shook his head.

“That wasn’t food, that was punishment,” Soda said.

That earned a small laugh, even from Pony, but it fizzled out quickly.

None of us wanted to admit it, but Lucas’s face, pale and hooked up to those machines, was stuck in our heads. We’d all seen close calls before, back in Tulsa, but this was different. Tree Hill was supposed to be a fresh start. Instead, it felt like life was finding ways to test us again and again.

Johnny glanced up at me.

“Darry… you think he’s gonna be okay?” Johnny asked. “Really?”

I slowed, looking each of them in the eye before answering.

“Yeah,” I said. “He’s tough. And he’s got people watching his back. That matters.”

Soda nudged Steve.

“Kinda like us, huh?” Soda teased.

Steve smirked.

“Yeah, except our fearless leader doesn’t let us have a night off,” Steve snarked.

That got a laugh from Two-Bit, real this time, and it felt good to hear.

By the time we reached the house, the gang shuffled inside like shadows. I made sure the doors were locked, then watched them scatter, Johnny dropping onto the couch, Pony dragging himself toward the bedroom, Soda and Steve sticking together like always, Two-Bit muttering something about cartoons, and Dally pacing like a caged animal.

I caught Dally’s arm before he disappeared down the hall.

“No trouble tonight,” I warned.

He gave me that sharp grin.

“Ain’t me you gotta worry about, Darry,” Dally said. “It’s the world.”

Maybe he was right.

When the house finally quieted, I sat down at the kitchen table, head in my hands. Being strong for them came naturally, but nights like this reminded me just how young they all still were. And how much I had to keep holding us together, no matter what Tree Hill threw our way.

Morning came heavy after the hospital night. The air in the Curtis house felt thick, like nobody had slept enough. I was up before the others, frying eggs and toast just to give us something warm to face the day with.

Soda stumbled in first, hair sticking up in ten different directions, and dropped into a chair.

“Think I could sleep another week,” Soda mumbled.

“You’ll make it through school,” I said, sliding him a plate. “Eat.”

Pony wandered in next, dragging his bookbag, already dressed but looking like his head was somewhere else. Johnny followed right behind him, quiet and pale, though I noticed Soda nudged a plate toward him without me having to say anything.

Two-Bit came in humming a tune like nothing had happened, but his eyes betrayed the same exhaustion we all carried. Steve barged in last, giving Soda a clap on the back that nearly knocked him into his eggs. Dally was already leaning against the counter, cigarette unlit between his teeth, restless.

“Whole army in here,” I muttered, flipping another round of eggs.

We ate in silence at first, the scrape of forks filling the kitchen. But once food worked its way in, the talk started.

“Y’know,” Two-Bit said, mouth half-full, “hospital waiting rooms gotta be the most boring places on Earth. No TV, no cards, not even a decent soda machine.”

“Because that’s what was important last night,” Steve shot back, rolling his eyes.

I cut them both a look.

“Enough,” I said. “We were lucky to walk out of there at all.”

The room quieted again, and Pony asked softly, “What about Nathan? You think he’s really gonna be okay with all that family stuff?”

That was the question hanging over everybody. Word spread fast, Deb and Dan splitting, and Nathan caught in the middle. In Tree Hill, drama in the Scott family was practically the town’s favorite sport, but this time it wasn’t gossip. It was Nathan’s whole life on the line.

By the time we hit the road for school, the gang was buzzing. Steve filled Soda in on a rumor he’d overheard from one of the Ravens, that Dan was already scheming, twisting things so Nathan would have to choose him.

“Guy’s a piece of work,” Dally muttered, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. “Ain’t enough he ruins the game for the kid, now he wants to screw up his head too.”
Johnny frowned.

“Deb’s not perfect either, but she’s trying,” Johnny said. “Dan just wants control.”

“Sounds familiar,” I said under my breath, thinking of Tulsa. Of all the parents and adults we’d seen fail kids before.

At school, the tension was obvious. Nathan walked through the halls with his jaw clenched tight, eyes dark. Everyone stared, whispering about the divorce. Dan and Deb’s marriage problems weren’t just private anymore; they were fuel for gossip.

We caught sight of Haley hanging near Nathan, close enough to show support but trying not to draw too much attention. It was working, for the most part. But when Nathan spotted us, I saw that flicker of relief in his eyes.

The gang clustered by the lockers, watching.

“He’s cracking,” Soda said softly.

“Not cracking,” I corrected. “Just being forced into something no kid should ever have to deal with. Choosing between parents? That’s a no-win.”

Two-Bit kicked at the lockers.

“Guess that’s Tree Hill for you,” Two-Bit said. “No one gets a normal childhood.”

Pony glanced at me, thoughtful, almost guilty. He didn’t need to say it, but I knew what he was thinking. We never had one either.

I set a hand on his shoulder, steady.

“We make our own way, Pony,” I said. “That’s all we can do. The same goes for Nathan.”

I threw myself into work that morning. The site was already alive with the sound of hammers and drills when I got there, beams going up one by one under the hot Carolina sun. That was the thing about construction, it didn’t care what was happening in Tree Hill High, or the Scotts’ house, or anywhere else. Wood still had to be cut, frames raised, and floors poured.

But even on the job, the talk found me.

“You hear about Dan Scott?” one of the older guys muttered as we lined up the joists. “Divorce, custody fight, the whole mess.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” another added. “That man’s been all ego since he was a teenager. Don’t know how Deb put up with him this long.”

I kept my head down, measuring twice and cutting once, but I listened. If the crew already knew, then the whole town knew. Tree Hill wasn’t big enough for secrets.

By quitting time, sweat clung to my shirt, and my muscles burned, but at least work kept me steady. On the walk home, I caught sight of Nathan and Haley sitting at the River Court. Haley’s hand rested gently on his knee while Nathan kept his head low, shoulders hunched like the world was pressing down on him. I didn’t stop; they didn’t need an audience.

Still, I filed the image away. It told me everything I needed to know.

When I got home, the house was alive with noise. Pony and Johnny were at the table, notebooks out, pretending to study. Two-Bit was tossing pretzels at Soda, who tried not to laugh. Steve leaned back in his chair, smirking like always. And Dally, he was sprawled out on the couch, boots still on, looking half-asleep.

“’ Bout time you got home,” Soda said. “We got gossip.”

I set my lunch pail down and leaned against the counter.

“Alright,” I sighed. “Hit me.”

And they did, all at once.

Pony said practice got canceled again, Whitey’s way of shaking up the team after Nathan quit. Steve added that people were whispering about Dan and Deb going to counseling and Dan storming out. Two-Bit grinned as he mentioned Brooke and Lucas sneaking kisses in the hallway before Brooke stormed off, muttering about Peyton.

But it was Johnny’s voice that cut through.

“It ain’t just kid stuff anymore, Darry,” Johnny said. “Dan’s threatening to drag Deb through the mud in court. Talking about stuff she wasn’t around for when Nathan was little.”

Soda shook his head.

“Nathan’s torn up, man,” Soda said. “You can see it. Everyone’s talking about who he’s gonna choose to live with.”

I sat back, crossing my arms. I wasn’t in high school with them, but the weight of their words still landed heavily. Parents weaponizing their kid was low. But it didn’t surprise me.

Dan Scott always struck me as the kind of man who had to win, no matter who he crushed in the process.

And from the look on my brothers’ faces, Nathan was right in the middle of the wreckage.

By the time supper was ready, the house smelled like fried chicken and biscuits. I’d cooked quick and hearty, the kind of meal that filled bellies and calmed nerves. The gang shuffled into the kitchen, some louder than others. Two-Bit was already talking before he even sat down, Johnny trailing quietly behind him. Soda and Steve were still half-joking about something that happened at the shop, while Dally just dropped into his chair like he owned it. Pony carried the plates to the table for me, his eyes already tired from whatever mess he’d heard at school.

Once we were all sitting down, I cleared my throat.

“Alright,” I said. “Someone start. What’d I miss today?”
That was all it took.

Two-Bit leaned forward, grinning like he had a secret.

“First off, Nathan Scott’s still the biggest headline,” Two-Bit said. “Everyone’s saying he’s gotta pick between Dan and Deb now that the divorce is official.”

“Pick?” Soda repeated. “Like choosing between a frying pan and a fire.”

That got a couple of chuckles, but Steve added the darker part.

“Dan’s playing dirty,” Steve said. “Word is, he’s threatening to drag Deb through the mud in court. Stuff from when Nathan was younger, when she was gone a lot. Makes it sound like she wasn’t around, even though she’s trying now.”

Johnny shifted in his seat, frowning.

“That’s messed up,” Johnny said. “He’s just trying to make Nathan feel like he doesn’t have a choice.”

Pony picked up next, his fork pushing through mashed potatoes.

“Haley’s caught in the middle, too,” Pony said. “She’s trying to be there for Nathan, but it’s like… It’s more than just high school drama now. You can tell it’s eating at him.”

I nodded slowly.

“That tracks,” I said. “Saw those two at the River Court earlier. Kid looked like he weighed the world on him.”

“More like the weight of Dan Scott,” Soda muttered.

Dally finally spoke up, smirking, but his tone was sharper than usual.

“Sounds like Dan’s the same kind of guy who’d rather win a fight than care about his own kid,” Dally said. “That’s a real piece of work.”

No one disagreed.

Steve picked the thread back up.

“Oh, and Lucas?” Steve said. “Still juggling fire. Brooke’s mad about him and Peyton acting too close. She even said it looked like he was dating Peyton, not her. Drama’s heating up.”

Two-Bit wagged his eyebrows.

“So, Tree Hill’s golden boy is stuck in a triangle,” Two-Bit said. “Love triangle, family triangle, the guy can’t win.”

Pony gave him a look.

“Not everything’s a joke, Two-Bit,” Pony said.

Two-Bit held up his hands, grinning.

“Just saying,” Two-Bit said.

The room quieted after that, everyone digging into their plates. But the gossip hung in the air, heavy and complicated. I could see it on their faces, the way Johnny twisted his fork, the way Pony chewed absentmindedly, lost in thought, Soda restless with nervous energy.

Finally, I broke the silence.

“Listen,” I said. “I don’t care how messy it gets out there. You boys keep each other steady. Nathan’s got his mess, Lucas’s got his, but we’ve got our own house to run. Understood?”

They all nodded, some slower than others, but they nodded.

The rest of dinner rolled on with lighter talk, Two-Bit making jokes about his math teacher, Soda ribbing Steve about spilling oil at the shop, but underneath it all, I knew we were all thinking about the Scotts.

And I had a feeling things were only gonna get worse before they got better.

Chapter Text

Chapter 30

Two-Bit’s POV

Mornings at the Curtis house were always chaos, but this one had a buzz to it, like we were all gearing up for something big. Soda was darting around with his shirt half-tucked in, Pony was double-checking his backpack, and Darry was trying to corral us like a drill sergeant. Steve and Johnny dragged their feet, Dally looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, and me? I was just grinning, soaking it in.
We weren’t just heading to school today, we were heading outta Tree Hill.

“Charlotte, baby!” I whooped, grabbing an apple off the counter and twirling it like a basketball. “Big city lights, big games, big fun!”

“Big trouble, more like,” Darry muttered, grabbing his lunch for work. But I caught the way he smirked at my excitement.

Pony shook his head, but I could tell he was fighting a smile.

“It’s just a basketball game and a cheer competition, Two-Bit,” Pony said.

“Correction,” I said, pointing at him with my apple. “It’s the basketball game and the cheer competition. Brooke’s already treating this like it’s the Olympics. Heard her talking about it in the hall yesterday, if they don’t win, she’s gonna spontaneously combust.”

Soda laughed, finally wrestling his shirt into place.

“That I’d pay to see,” Soda said.

We piled out the door, the morning air crisp as we made our way down the street toward school, bags slung over shoulders. Steve walked beside me, hands shoved in his pockets.

“So, you really think Tree Hill’s gonna bring home both trophies?” Steve asked.

I shrugged.

“If Lucas don’t choke and if Brooke don’t strangle Peyton before halftime, maybe,” I said.

That earned a chuckle from Johnny, quiet but genuine.

By the time we hit school, the whole place was buzzing. The Ravens were all swagger, strutting around in their jackets, while the cheer squad huddled in their matching warm-ups, Brooke barking orders like a general. Peyton, on the other hand, looked like she’d rather disappear into her sketchbook than wave pom-poms.

“See that?” I whispered to Pony as we passed. “That’s the face of a girl trapped in glittery purgatory.”

But then the drama started, one of the cheerleaders doubled over, pale and sick. Word spread fast. Brooke’s voice carried across the gym like a fire alarm.

“No, no, no… this is not happening!”

Peyton was already pacing, desperate.

“Haley,” Peyton said. “Please. You gotta fill in.”

Our whole gang froze where we stood, catching every word. Haley’s eyes went wide.

“Me?” Haley asked in surprise. “No way. I can’t…”

Brooke cut her off, practically shoving a pom-pom at her.

“You can and you will,” Brooke said. “Unless you want me to die right here on this floor.”

“Drama queen,” Dally muttered under his breath.

But Peyton was pleading now, softer, more real.

“Hales, please,” Peyton begged. “We need you.”

Haley looked like she wanted to melt into the bleachers. Our gang all shared a look…this trip was already shaping up to be more entertaining than the last three weeks combined.

“Guess Charlotte’s about to get a real show,” I said, grinning ear to ear.

By the time the buses pulled up outside Tree Hill High, the air was electric. Everybody was buzzing, players tossing balls back and forth, cheerleaders squealing, and kids fighting over who got which seat. The whole scene looked like one giant powder keg waiting for someone to light a match.

Our gang rolled up together, me and Steve leading the pack like we owned the joint, Soda right behind us cracking jokes, and Pony trailing with Johnny. Dally slouched like he didn’t care, but I caught the way his eyes scanned the crowd, always looking for trouble or something to steal. And then there was Darry, towering over all of us, making sure nobody wandered too far off.

“Man,” I said, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders, “Charlotte ain’t ready for this crew.”

Steve smirked.

“Neither’s Tree Hill, half the time,” Steve grumbled.

We got herded toward the buses. The Ravens had their own, the cheer squad too. Lucky for us, we ended up with seats on the student bus, the one that felt more like a moving circus than transport.
I plopped into a seat with Soda, and before the bus even pulled away, he was already entertaining the whole row with a story about one of his shop customers who thought an oil change was the same thing as adding windshield wiper fluid.

“Guy poured it right into the engine block,” Soda laughed, eyes wide with disbelief. “Keith about had a heart attack.”

Everyone cracked up, even Pony, who usually got embarrassed by Soda’s antics.

Johnny sat quiet by the window, watching the trees blur as we pulled out of Tree Hill. Darry squeezed into a seat across the aisle, arms crossed, but I knew he was half-listening. He always was, even when he looked checked out.

The Ravens were a few seats up, Nathan and Tim already loud enough to fill the whole bus. Nathan leaned back, tossing a comment about how Charlotte’s players wouldn’t know what hit them. Tim whooped like it was the funniest thing ever.

Pony rolled his eyes. “Do they ever shut up?”

“Nope,” I said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “But hey, makes the trip more entertaining. Count how many times Tim laughs at Nathan’s jokes before we hit the city.”
“Already at five,” Johnny muttered, surprising me. Quiet kid, but sharp.

We stopped halfway down the highway for snacks at a gas station. Dally immediately disappeared and came back with a free soda he didn’t pay for, smirking like he’d just won the lottery.

“Dally…” Darry’s voice held that warning edge.

“What?” Dallas shrugged, taking a long swig. “Place owed me.”

Soda shook his head but grinned.

“You’re unbelievable,” Soda said.

“Yeah, but you love me,” Dally shot back.

By the time the buses rolled back onto the highway, the sun was dipping lower, painting the sky orange. Someone cranked up music in the back, loud, off-key singing followed. Soda and I joined in, of course, because what’s a road trip without embarrassing everyone around you?

Pony groaned and pulled his jacket over his head, muttering something about wishing he’d brought earplugs. Johnny chuckled quietly beside him, and even Darry’s lips twitched like he wanted to laugh.
That’s when it hit me. For once, we weren’t just a bunch of Tulsa strays trying to fit in. We were part of it all, the team, the school, the whole crazy ride. And heading into Charlotte, it felt like anything could happen.

“Hey,” I said, leaning across the aisle to Pony. “Bet ya five bucks Brooke loses her mind before halftime.”

Pony peeked out from under his jacket and smirked.

“Make it ten,” Pony said.

I grinned.

“Now you’re talking, kid,” I said.

By the time the skyline of Charlotte came into view, the whole bus shifted. Even the loudmouths up front shut up for a second, staring at the high-rises glittering in the distance. It wasn’t Tulsa, and it sure as hell wasn’t Tree Hill either. This was the big leagues, at least it felt that way to us.

“Hot damn,” Steve muttered beside me. “Place looks like it eats Tree Hill for breakfast.”

“Betcha Brooke’s already plannin’ her victory parade through those streets,” I said, pointing out the window.

The cheer squad bus had beat us there, and Brooke was already outside the hotel barking orders like she owned the building.

“Room assignments go like this…” Brooke started, until Peyton shoved her to the side with a flat, “Relax, Brooke.”

We piled off the student bus, stretching our legs. Darry gave us that “stick together” look, the same one he’d give us back in Tulsa whenever we rolled into a new neighborhood. Soda just grinned, bouncing on his feet.

We piled off the student bus, stretching our legs. Darry gave us that “stick together” look, the same one he’d give us back in Tulsa whenever we rolled into a new neighborhood. Soda just grinned, bouncing on his feet.

Inside, the lobby smelled like lemon polish and money. High ceilings, chandeliers, the works. Our whole gang just sorta froze for a second, taking it in. Johnny looked like he was afraid to touch anything, Dally looked like he was planning how to steal the silverware, and Pony… Pony just stared up at the lights, eyes wide.

“Careful, Ponyboy,” I teased. “Don’t get a crick in your neck. These people charge extra for that.”

At the front desk, coaches and chaperones handled room keys. Us Tulsa boys weren’t exactly on any official roster, but Lucas vouched for us quick, saying we were with him and the River Court crew. Nobody argued, maybe ‘cause Darry stood there looking like he could bench-press the hotel.

“Two rooms,” Darry said, taking the keys from the frazzled chaperone. “I’ll make it work.”

Translation: we’d be packed like sardines, but hey, we’d survived worse.

We shuffled upstairs, the elevator ride full of shoves and wisecracks. Dally tried to light a match before Darry smacked it out of his hand. Soda laughed so hard he nearly fell into Steve.

Our rooms ended up side-by-side, overlooking the city. The view lit up the night, cars streaking like fireflies, neon signs buzzing. Johnny pressed close to the window, whispering, “Never seen nothing like this.”

“Me neither,” Pony said softly, right beside him.

I clapped both of them on the shoulders.

“Well, boys, welcome to Charlotte,” I said. “Let’s not get ourselves arrested before the game, huh?”

Dally smirked.

“No promises,” Dally said.

The night didn’t stay quiet for long. No sooner had we dumped our bags in the rooms than the whole hotel turned into a madhouse. You could hear the cheerleaders down the hall chanting through practice drills, Brooke’s voice cutting through like a drill sergeant.

“Five, six, seven, eight!” Brooke hollered.

Soda leaned against the doorway with me, arms crossed, watching them rehearse in the hallway like it was their personal stage.

“Man, Brooke takes this more serious than Nathan does basketball,” Soda said.

“No kidding,” I said. “She’s got more fire than a gas station blowing up.”

Pony wandered out with Johnny trailing, both of them carrying sodas from the vending machine. Pony shook his head.

“I don’t know how they’ve got the energy for that after the bus ride,” Pony said.

“Energy,” Steve muttered, coming up behind them, “or insanity. I’m going with insanity.”

Inside our room, Darry had already started laying down rules like it was Tulsa all over again.

“Nobody sneaks out, nobody causes trouble,” Darry said. “We’re guests here. Got it?”

“Got it,” I said, flopping onto one of the beds. “But you know Dally’s not listening.”

“Damn right I’m not,” Dallas called from the bathroom, where he was slicking back his hair like he was about to hit some nightclub. “City this big? Gotta take a look around.”

“Over my dead body,” Darry shot back, glaring through the crack in the door.

Dally just smirked.

“Don’t tempt me,” Dally said.

Soda laughed so hard he almost spilled his soda.

“You two fight like an old married couple,” Soda said.

“Shut it, Soda,” Darry said, but he cracked a half-smile anyway.

Later, the team had a meeting in one of the hotel conference rooms, and since we were with Lucas, we tagged along. Whitey sat up front, gruff as ever, going over plays. Nathan slouched in the back like he didn’t care, but his eyes kept darting to Haley, who was sneaking in with a stack of books. You didn’t need to be a genius to see where that was headed.

“Man,” I whispered to Johnny, “that’s trouble waitin’ to happen.”

Johnny shrugged, but the corner of his mouth tugged up.

“Maybe good trouble,” Johnny said.

When the meeting broke, the cheerleaders swept in to use the room for more practice. Brooke nearly knocked me over, waving her pom-poms in Lucas’s face.

“You better be ready to lift me tomorrow, boyfriend,” Brooke teased.

Lucas blushed redder than a stop sign.

“Better you than me,” I muttered, earning a snicker from Steve.

Back in the rooms, we tried to settle in, but with eight guys jammed into two hotel suites, “settle” wasn’t really on the menu. Darry kept trying to get us to turn in early, but every time he turned off the lights, Soda cracked a joke, I followed it with another, and before long the whole gang was howling with laughter.

“Seriously,” Pony groaned from under a pillow, “do you two ever shut up?”

“Nope,” I said proudly.

“That’s a negative,” Soda added, grinning in the dark.

Even Johnny laughed, soft but real, and I figured if we could make him laugh in a hotel miles from home, we were doin’ alright.

Chapter Text

Chapter 31

Steve’s POV

Game day in Charlotte hit different. The whole hotel buzzed like a hive before we even left for the gym. The Ravens were strutting around in their warm-ups, the cheer squad fussing with hair spray and pom-poms, and Brooke? She looked like she was preparing for war.

Soda nudged me as we filed out of the lobby.

“Think they’ll let us cheer from the sidelines?” Soda asked.

I smirked.

“With your voice?” I teased. “You’d scare the crowd off.”

He laughed and shoved my shoulder, but he didn’t deny it.

When we hit the arena, the size of it about knocked the breath outta me. Bigger than anything back in Tree Hill, let alone Tulsa. Johnny’s eyes were wide, soaking it all in. Pony had that same look, curious, overwhelmed, like he wanted to write the whole thing down in his notebook. Dally pretended not to care, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, but I caught him glancing at the scoreboard lights like even he was impressed.

Darry? He was already in big brother mode, making sure we stayed out of the way while the teams warmed up.

The cheer comp went first, and let me tell you, Brooke was right, this was serious business. Other squads were sharp, polished, loud. Peyton looked like she’d rather disappear, but she powered through the routines. And then came the curveball, Haley out there in a uniform, face red as a tomato but hitting her marks.

Two-Bit nearly fell out of his seat laughing.

“Would ya look at that?” Two-Bit teased. “Tutor girl’s got spirit!”

“Don’t let her hear you call her that,” Pony warned, but he was grinning too.

Brooke’s squad nailed their big finish, her perched high on top of the pyramid, screaming triumph. When they landed it clean, Soda jumped up, clapping like he’d been a fan for years.

“They did it!” Soda shouted.

I couldn’t help but cheer too. For all Brooke’s crazy, the girl delivered.

Then it was game time.

The Ravens hit the court, Lucas looking steady even with half the crowd against him. Nathan moved like he had something to prove, sharp and fast. The other team wasn’t a pushover, though, they came out swinging, scoring quick.

From the bleachers, we yelled ourselves hoarse. Dally even stood at one point, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Hit the shot, Scott!” Dally bellowed, surprising the hell outta all of us.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” I muttered, shaking my head with a grin.

The game went back and forth, tight all the way through. Lucas drained a couple of clean jumpers, Nathan slammed a dunk that had the crowd on their feet. But the real moment came near the end, when Nathan passed to Lucas instead of hogging it. Lucas nailed the basket, sealing the game.

The Ravens won.

The cheer squad stormed the court, Brooke nearly tackling Lucas in excitement. Peyton hung back, clapping slow, her eyes a little distant.

Our gang poured down from the bleachers, caught up in the storm. Soda threw an arm around Johnny, shaking him like a rag doll.

“We’re lucky charms, boys!” Soda called. “Can’t lose with us here.”

Johnny actually laughed, soft but proud.

I looked around, at the noise, the lights, the chaos. At Darry, who finally let himself smile, just a little. At Pony, scribbling something in the margins of his program. At Dally, who was pretending he didn’t care but hadn’t stopped watching the scoreboard.

Yeah, Tree Hill was different than Tulsa. But nights like this? Felt like maybe we belonged here too.

The bus ride back to the hotel was pure chaos. The Ravens were pounding on the seats like they’d just won the championship, even though it was just a road game. The cheer squad was screaming so loud Brooke nearly lost her voice. Soda joined right in like he was one of them.

“Undefeated, baby!” Soda shouted.

Darry sat a few rows back, trying not to laugh, but I saw the corner of his mouth twitching. Johnny looked drained, leaning against the window, while Pony scribbled in his notebook, trying to capture it all.
When we rolled up to the hotel, the energy didn’t die down. Somebody blasted music from a speaker, and before long, half the lobby turned into an after-party. Brooke was front and center, of course, dragging Lucas along with her, pom-poms shaking like she’d just won the lottery.

“That girl,” I muttered, watching her twirl around Lucas, “she’s a hurricane.”

“Yeah,” Two-Bit grinned, “and Lucas is the poor guy who bought beachfront property.”

We headed upstairs eventually, but the walls shook from kids running up and down the hall. Soda joined in a game of hallway football with a couple of Ravens, nearly knocking a lamp over before Darry barked at him to knock it off.

Later that night, things shifted. The cheerleaders snuck into one of the rooms with contraband snacks and music. Brooke held court in the middle, talking about how Tree Hill High was unstoppable.
Peyton leaned against the wall, quiet, eyes on the floor.

I caught her whispering to Haley when Brooke wasn’t looking.

“I can’t do this tonight,” Peyton whispered. Then she slipped out, and I noticed Lucas hesitating before following her.

Soda nudged me.

“You think…?” Soda asked.

“Yeah,” I said low. "Something's going on there.”

Meanwhile, Nathan was nowhere near the party. Word was, he’d gone off with Haley, the two of them walking the Charlotte streets to clear their heads. Different kind of victory lap.

Back in our rooms, Darry tried to wrangle us into bed, but none of us were tired. Dally was sprawled on a chair, cigarette dangling (unlit, thanks to Darry), smirking at the chaos. Pony and Johnny shared the window seat, staring out at the city lights. Two-Bit was telling some wild story about the last time we crashed in a motel in Tulsa, making Soda laugh so hard he nearly cried.

For a moment, I sat back and watched. The whole gang, the whole mess of us, crammed into two hotel rooms in a city miles away from where we started.

Tree Hill might’ve been full of drama we didn’t understand, but for the first time in a while, I thought, maybe we were starting to find our place in it.

We rolled back into Tree Hill just after dawn, buses coughing tired kids into the parking lot. Everyone looked beat, except Brooke, who somehow still had enough energy to talk about her “next big plan” before she even got off the bus.

“Tonight’s the Boy Toy Auction,” Brooke announced like it was breaking news. “And this year, Tree Hill’s about to raise some serious cash.”

Soda raised his eyebrows, walking beside me.

“Boy Toy Auction?” Soda asked.

Two-Bit nearly tripped over himself laughing.

“Sounds like we finally found an event I was born for,” Two-Bit joked.

Darry groaned, already rubbing at his forehead like he had a headache.

“We are not…” Darry protested.

“Too late,” Brooke cut him off, spinning around to face our crew. “Every eligible guy in this school is getting auctioned off. That includes you strays from Tulsa.”

Brooke winked at Lucas, then turned on her heel, marching away before Darry could get another word out.

“Aw, come on,” I said, elbowing Darry. “It’s for charity. You can’t say no to charity.”

“I can if it means letting you idiots get paraded around like cattle,” Darry shot back, but Soda was already grinning ear to ear.

“C’mon, Darry,” Soda egged. “Could be fun.”

Pony looked skeptical, muttering,

“Or humiliating,” Pony said. Johnny didn’t say much, but his ears had gone pink, which told me all I needed to know.

By the time school let out that afternoon, the buzz was everywhere. Flyers taped to lockers, cheerleaders talking about their “bidding strategy,” and the Ravens trying to one-up each other about who’d get the highest price. Nathan was acting like he didn’t care, but you could tell he did.

At the café after our shifts, Karen handed out cupcakes to the girls organizing it and gave us a look.

“I expect you boys to behave tonight,” Karen said.

Two-Bit grinned.

“Define behave,” Two-Bit teased.

That night, the gym looked like it had been transformed into something out of a TV special. String lights everywhere, a stage set up, tables and chairs filling the floor. A crowd of parents, students, and half the town filled the seats.

We lined up backstage with the other guys. Soda was fixing his shirt in the mirror, Dally looked like he was ready to burn the whole thing down, Pony was muttering to himself, and Johnny looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

“You’ll be fine,” I said, clapping Johnny on the shoulder. “Just think of it like gym class. Except instead of running laps, you get auctioned off to the highest bidder.”
Johnny gave me a deadpan look.

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Johnny said with a wince.

Then the announcer called the first name, and the show began.

Lucas went out to cheers, smirking nervously as Brooke waved her paddle from the front row. Nathan followed, swaggering like he owned the place. Jake Jagielski walked out to a surprise roar, girls practically falling out of their seats for him.

And then came us.

Two-Bit strutted down the stage like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life, throwing kisses to the crowd. Soda played it up too, flashing that movie-star grin. Even I walked out with a little extra swagger, no harm in putting on a show, right?

Darry didn’t strut, didn’t smile, just gave a small nod and walked the line, but you could feel half the women in the audience sit up straighter. Pony shuffled out nervous, Johnny red as a tomato, and Dally? Dally smirked like the whole thing was beneath him but dangerous enough to make everyone stare.

The bidding was chaos, shouts, laughter, Brooke practically starting a war with the other cheerleaders over Lucas. Even Haley threw in a bid, her face red the whole time.

By the end of it, we were all “sold off” for charity, the gym ringing with noise and energy. I caught Darry’s face when it was all over, half-exasperated, half-relieved.

“Well,” I said, clapping my hands together. “Guess Tree Hill finally found a way to put a price on us.”

Soda laughed so hard he nearly doubled over, and even Pony cracked a smile.

For one crazy night, we weren’t just the Tulsa outsiders. We were part of the spectacle.

When the auction wrapped, the real fun began: the “dates.” Brooke was glowing like she’d just won prom queen and the lottery rolled into one. She’d bid high and won Lucas, dragging him off before he could even catch his breath.

“Guess he’s in for a night,” Soda muttered, grinning.

“More like a lifetime sentence,” Two-Bit quipped, and I nearly doubled over laughing.

Nathan, of course, got swept up by Haley. The way he looked at her, like the rest of the room didn’t exist, was enough to make me nudge Pony.

“See that?” I said. “That ain’t pretend anymore.”

Pony gave a little smile, like he knew it too.

Jake got ambushed by Peyton, and even though she tried to play it cool, you could tell she wanted it more than she let on.

“She looks happy,” Johnny whispered. I couldn’t help but notice the way his face softened.

As for us Tulsa boys, well… that was a show all its own.

Two-Bit got “bought” by some junior who thought he was the funniest thing alive. He strutted out the door with her like he was heading to Hollywood. Soda was scooped up by Cassie Whitmore, that cheerleader he’d been eyeing since our first day in Tree Hill. He looked like he’d just hit the jackpot.

Dally, on the other hand, got cornered by Roxy Delgado, his leather-jacket match made in heaven. The sparks between them were half fire, half bar fight, but he didn’t look unhappy about it.

Johnny was paired with Sadie Miller, the quiet girl who’d been hanging around the edge of the crowd. She smiled at him like he wasn’t invisible for once, and he smiled back, small, shy, but real.

Pony got snapped up by Ellie Marsh, the artsy girl with the sketchbook. They were already talking about books before they even made it out the door. Figures.

And me? Tara Winslow, sharp eyes and sharper tongue, waved her paddle for me like it was a duel. When I tried to crack a joke, she cut me down with one line that left me blushing. I liked her already.
Even Darry didn’t get away clean. Claire Benton, a teacher from Tree Hill High, had tossed in a bid just to raise money. When she ended up with him, she smiled easy.

“Guess you’re stuck with me, Curtis,” Claire teased. Darry went red to his ears, which sent the rest of us into hysterics.

The “dates” were scattered across town, some at cafés, some walking the River Court, others just hanging out. Soda came back bragging about how Cassie laughed at everything he said. Two-Bit claimed he taught his date how to shoplift candy from the vending machine, and Dally? He had that smug grin that meant Roxy gave as good as she got.

Johnny was quiet but lighter, talking about music with Sadie. Pony couldn’t shut up about a mural idea Ellie had, his eyes bright for once.

Me, I got roasted alive by Tara but walked away smiling, because she made me be real instead of hiding behind jokes. And Darry? He didn’t say much, but Claire’s name came up more than once.

By the time we all regrouped at the Curtis house, the night felt like it belonged to us. The Ravens might’ve strutted, the cheerleaders might’ve screamed, but we’d all walked away with something.

“Best damn charity auction I ever been to,” I said, dropping onto the couch.

“You’ve only been to one,” Darry shot back, but there was a ghost of a smile on his face.

And for once, even with all the Tree Hill drama swirling around us, it felt like we were exactly where we were supposed to be.

Chapter Text

Chapter 32

Dally’s POV

The night was quiet in that way only Tree Hill could make it, a little too still, like the calm before something was about to blow. Me, Soda, Two-Bit, Pony, Johnny, Steve, and Darry were all scattered around the living room, trying to decide between cards or just crashing early, when the knock came at the door.
It was Lucas.

He didn’t even wait to be invited in, just shoved his hands through his hair like the world was crashing down and stepped inside.

“Hey… I needed to talk,” Lucas said.

The way he said it made Darry glance up sharp, Soda sit forward, and me lean back with a smirk, masking the sudden weight in the air.

“What’s eatin’ ya, golden boy?” I asked, but my tone didn’t have the usual bite.

Lucas dropped onto the arm of the chair, looking about ten years older than he had yesterday.

“It’s Brooke,” Lucas said, then hesitated. “She’s… late.”

That made the whole room freeze. Pony’s book slid outta his hands. Steve let out a low whistle.

“Well, hell…” Two-Bit muttered under his breath.

Lucas swallowed hard.

“She took a test,” Lucas said. “It came back positive.”

No one said anything at first. Even I couldn’t come up with a wisecrack. The weight of it sank like lead.

“She’s pregnant?” Johnny’s voice was soft, cautious, like he wasn’t sure if saying it out loud made it real.

Lucas rubbed his face.

“She thinks so,” Lucas said. “She’s scared out of her mind. And I… I don’t even know what to say to her.”

Darry leaned forward, elbows on his knees, steady like always.

“You care about her?” Darry asked.

“Yeah,” Lucas said instantly. “I do. But it’s… everything feels like it’s crashing in.”

Soda was the first to break the silence with a sigh.

“You ain’t alone, man,” Soda said. “Whatever happens, you got us, alright?”

Lucas gave a quick, grateful nod, but I could tell it didn’t ease much of the storm in his head.

And just when I thought he’d said all he came to say, Lucas added, almost like an afterthought,

“Keith proposed to my mom,” Lucas said.

That got everyone’s heads snapping up again.

“You’re kiddin’,” Two-Bit said, eyes wide.

Lucas shook his head.

“No,” Lucas said. “He asked her to marry him… and she said no.”

This time, even I couldn’t hide the shock. Keith? The guy who’d been like a stand-in dad his whole life? That stung just hearing it.

“She said…” Lucas hesitated again, voice breaking a little, “…she said she loves him as a friend. That he’s been a great father figure. But the time away, it gave her perspective, and she just… she doesn’t want that kind of relationship with him.”

The room was heavy again, like the air’d been sucked out.

I let out a slow breath and shook my head.

“Tree Hill sure knows how to screw with people, huh?” I said.

Nobody argued.

Lucas stayed a while, sitting in our living room like maybe it was the only place he could breathe. We didn’t have all the answers for him, hell, none of us were experts on relationships or kids or heartbreak. But we listened. Sometimes that’s all you can do.

And as the night stretched on, with the weight of Brooke’s secret and Keith’s rejection hanging heavy, I couldn’t help but think, Tree Hill was turning into more drama than even I could stir up on my worst day.

Morning in the Curtis house was chaos like usual: Darry moving like a drill sergeant to get everyone fed and out the door before his shift, Soda bouncing around half-dressed while trying to tie his shoes, Pony yawning into his cereal, and Steve already grumbling about the day ahead. Me and Two-Bit? We were half entertained, half just trying to stay outta Darry’s way. Johnny kept quiet, taking it all in like always.

Then Haley dropped her bomb.

We were shuffling toward the door when she caught up with us outside, books in her arms, eyes darting nervously.

“So… Nathan got an apartment,” Haley said.

That stopped all of us cold.

Soda whistled.

“An apartment?” Soda asked. “Like his own place?”

Haley nodded.

“Yeah,” Haley said. “He asked me to check it out with him later. I just… thought you guys should know.”

I barked a laugh, shaking my head.

“Kid’s sixteen and playing house already,” I said. “Tree Hill’s a circus.”

Two-Bit grinned wide.

“Wonder if he needs a roommate,” Two-Bit joked. “I could liven that place up.”

Haley rolled her eyes but cracked a smile.

But the heavier stop came not long after. Brooke had asked Lucas if he’d go with her to the clinic before school. And when he agreed, she asked if we’d tag along too, for backup. So the seven of us crammed into that waiting room, lookin’ about as out of place as greasers could in a sea of nervous faces.

Brooke sat there clutchin’ her bag like it was a lifeline, Lucas right beside her. Soda, Johnny, and Pony flanked her on one side, and me, Steve, and Two-Bit hovered close enough to let her know she wasn’t on her own.

The nurse finally called her name, and Brooke went in with Lucas. We just sat there, silent for once. No jokes, no chatter. Just waiting.

When they came back out, Brooke’s face was pale.

“They’ll have the results later,” Brooke said.

Lucas nodded, jaw tight, and none of us pressed it. What could we say?

By the time we got to school, Darry had already peeled off to work, leaving us to dive headfirst into the drama. Didn’t take long, either, ‘cause Lucas stormed into the locker room, and we weren’t far behind.

He zeroed in on Nathan, who was lacing up his sneakers.

“You kissed Peyton last night,” Lucas snapped.

Nathan smirked, leaning back against the bench.

“Maybe I did,” Nathan said. “What’s it to you?”

Lucas’s fists clenched.

“You’ve been using Haley to get at me,” Lucas said. “That’s all this is, isn’t it?”

Nathan stood, squaring off, cocky grin not fading.

“You think everything’s about you, don’t you, Luke?” Nathan spat.

The whole locker room went dead quiet. A couple of Ravens froze mid-change, watching like it was pay-per-view.

I could feel Soda tense up beside me, Johnny’s eyes wide.

“This is about to go south fast,” Steve muttered.

Lucas glared, jaw working.

“You don’t care about her,” Lucas growled. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

Nathan’s smirk faltered just a hair, but he covered it with a shrug.

“Whatever you say,” Nathan said.

Lucas turned on his heel, storming out, shoulders rigid. And I swear, the whole Ravens squad exhaled at once like they’d been holding their breath.

I leaned against the doorway, shaking my head.

“Tree Hill High has more drama than the streets back home,” I said. “Who knew?”

Two-Bit snorted.
“At least in Tulsa, a fight’s just a fight,” Two-Bit said. “Here, it’s a soap opera.”

And we trailed out after Lucas, the whole day stretched ahead, heavy with the weight of Brooke’s test, Nathan’s games, and whatever other mess this town had in store.

By lunchtime, the air at Tree Hill High was thick with gossip, Brooke looking pale and distracted, Lucas storming around like he had a chip on his shoulder bigger than the school itself, and Nathan nowhere to be found. I thought Tulsa was messy, but these Tree Hill kids gave us a run for our money.

Me, Soda, Steve, Two-Bit, Johnny, and Pony crowded around one of the cafeteria tables, picking at whatever mystery meat the lunch lady’d slapped down, when Jake Jagielski slid into the seat across from us. He looked worn-out, like he hadn’t slept much.

“What’s eatin’ you, Jagielski?” I asked, chewing on a fry.

Jake sighed, rubbed the back of his neck, and leaned in a little.

“Nikki showed up this morning,” Jake said.

That shut us up. Even Soda, who’d been joking with Johnny about the lunch food, froze.

Jake looked down at his hands.

“Peyton was at the house, holding Jenny,” Jake said. “Nikki wanted to hold her… but I stopped her. Asked Peyton to take Jenny upstairs.”

“She cause trouble?” Steve asked, eyes narrowing.

“Not right away,” Jake said. “She asked if Peyton was my girlfriend. I told her no, that Peyton’s just a friend who babysits sometimes.”

Pony tilted his head.

“What’d Nikki say?” Pony asked.

Jake gave a short, bitter laugh.

“Told me to relax,” Jake said. “Said she was just asking. But then she brought up that date we had at the charity auction. Said it got her thinking.”

“Thinking what?” Two-Bit piped up, leaning across the table.

“That she had some money left over,” Jake muttered. “Wanted to help with food so I wouldn’t have to use food stamps.”

Johnny frowned.

“That don’t sound so bad,” Johnny said.

Jake shook his head.

“It ain’t about the money,” Jake said. “I told her I didn’t want it. She said it isn’t fair, that I won’t let her be a part of Jenny’s life and would rather leave Jenny with a babysitter.”

I smirked, jerking a thumb toward Pony.

“If Peyton’s the babysitter, she’s doin’ a helluva lot better job than Nikki ever would,” I said.

Jake’s eyes softened for a second.

“Jenny loves Peyton,” Jake said. “And she’s got a lot of people who care about her. Nikki said none of them are her mother.”

The table went quiet again. Even I didn’t have a wisecrack for that one.

Jake took a deep breath and kept going.

“She started looking around the house, saw the team photo on the mantel,” Jake said. “Picked it up, stared at it. Said she was lookin’ at my life.”

“And you said…?” Soda prompted.

“I told her, yeah, that’s my life,” Jake said, his jaw tight. “And then I asked her who wasn’t in it. Her.”

The words hung heavy between us. Jake’s face softened, though.

“She just… looked at me,” Jake said. “Didn’t say much after that.”

Johnny shifted uncomfortably.

“Sounds like she ain’t gonna give up easy,” Johnny said.

“No,” Jake admitted. “ But I can’t let her back in, not like that. Jenny deserves better.”

I leaned back, crossing my arms.

“Then you do what you gotta do, Jagielski,” I said. “Don’t let her drag you under. You keep your kid safe. That’s the only thing that matters.”

Jake gave me a small nod, like he’d needed to hear that.

And just like that, the bell rang. Lunch was over, but the weight of what Jake had told us stuck with me. Tree Hill had more ghosts than Tulsa ever did, and some of ‘em didn’t stay buried.

Chapter Text

Chapter 33

Johnny’s POV

The school day was dragging like usual, but the minute Lucas bolted down the hallway, something told me it wasn’t gonna end quiet. Me, Pony, Soda, Dally, Steve, and Two-Bit traded looks and followed him right out the doors. The spring air hit sharp, and there she was, Brooke, storming across the parking lot like a hurricane in heels.

“Still no news?” Lucas called after her.

Brooke spun, her hair whipping.

“Then I’ll come find you,” Brooke retorted.

“Where are you going?” Lucas asked, desperate, his voice echoing across the lot.

“Away from you,” Brooke snapped. Her voice was ice, her eyes hot fire.

We slowed to a stop a few paces away, watching the storm unfold. Soda leaned closer to us.

“Man, this ain’t gonna end well,” Soda muttered.

“I’m just as worried as you are,” Lucas said, trying to close the gap.

Brooke’s laugh was short, bitter.

“Are you?” Brooke asks. “Or are you just afraid a kid would deflate your market value?”

Lucas shook his head fast.

“That’s not it,” Lucas protested.

“That’s right,” Brooke shot back, “because you’re not on the market anymore. You’re a one-woman kind of guy.” She leaned in, twisting the knife. “Speaking of which, how’s my former best friend?”

Peyton. The name cut through the air heavy, and I felt my chest tighten. Lucas froze.

“Peyton has nothing to do with this, okay?” Lucas said firmly.

“Not yet,” Brooke sneered. She folded her arms tight. “But hey, why stop here? You can pull a Dan Scott, knock Peyton up too.”

Behind me, Two-Bit let out a whistle.

“Damn,” Two-Bit hissed, like he couldn’t believe she said it out loud.

“Brooke!” Lucas shouted, but she was already turning away.

“Maybe you can move on to random bar sluts next,” Brooke continued, loud enough for half the parking lot to hear. “But wait, you’ve already done that. Better be careful, Danny Jr. You never know how many kids you’re gonna end up with.”

“That’s real nice, Brooke,” Lucas snapped back. His voice cracked with frustration. “But it’s not like I’m the only guy you’ve ever slept with.”

Her eyes went wide, sharp, deadly.

“What’s your point, Lucas?” Brooke snapped.

“I don’t know,” Lucas admitted, looking worn. “And it’s mine.”

The silence after that was deafening, thick enough that even Dally, who never kept his mouth shut, didn’t say a word. Then Brooke’s phone rang, sharp and shrill. She looked at the caller ID, her face paling, and answered.

The gang held our breaths.

She hung up seconds later, her lips trembling before she pressed them into a hard line.

“Trust me,” Brooke said coldly, glaring at Lucas. “It’s yours.”

And just like that, she got into her car, slammed the door, and drove off, tires screeching against the pavement.

Lucas stood frozen, his fists curled, his chest rising and falling like he couldn’t breathe right.

We stood there, too, caught between stepping in and staying back. Finally, Soda put a hand on my shoulder, pulling me away.

“C’mon,” Soda said. “Let’s give him space.”

I looked back at Lucas once before turning to follow the guys. Something in my gut told me things weren’t just messy anymore, they were about to blow up.

The bell rang and the school emptied out like a busted pipe, kids spilling everywhere. We stuck to our usual split: Soda and Steve peeling off toward Keith’s shop, while me, Pony, Two-Bit, and Dally made the walk to Karen’s Café. Karen was back behind the counter, her presence sharp and steady, like she never really left. It felt normal again having her there, even if the whole world outside the café wasn’t.
We slipped on our aprons and got to work. Pony was restocking napkins and sugar caddies, Dally leaned against the counter pretending to help, and I was wiping down tables with Two-Bit clowning around beside me when Haley pushed through the door. She looked flushed, like she’d been carrying something around all day that was finally boiling over.

Karen greeted her warmly, then ducked into the back, leaving the place in our hands. Haley slid into a booth, motioning for us to come over.

“You guys,” Haley said, almost whispering but not really, like she needed to spill before it ate her up. “Last night with Nathan… it got weird.”

Dally snorted.

“Weird how?” Dally asked. “That kid lives weird.”

“Shut up, Dal,” I muttered, leaning closer. “Go on, Hales.”

Haley fiddled with her bracelet.

“So, after the game, I was at Nathan’s apartment,” Haley said. “I’d taken a shower, and we were hanging out, and, he didn’t want to make out.”

Two-Bit’s eyebrows shot up.

“Wait, wait, hold up,” Two-Bit said. “Nathan Scott turned down a make-out session? Am I hearing this right?”

Haley rolled her eyes.

“Yes, you’re hearing it right,” Haley huffed. “I asked him since when. He said… since I got his jersey number tattooed on my…” She stopped herself, cheeks pink. “...my butt.”

Pony nearly choked on the glass of water he was sipping.

“Wait…what?” Pony spluttered.

“Above my butt,” Haley corrected quickly, her face burning.

Even Dally straightened at that.

“Holy hell, Tutor Girl,” Dally said, smirking. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Not helping,” Haley shot back. “Anyway, Nathan said he saw it that morning, and it confused him. He told me he didn’t get why I’d do something permanent like that but still not… you know.”

Her voice dropped lower, but we all caught it. Sex. She meant sex.

“That’s because it is a big deal,” she added quickly.

“I told him tattoos can be removed, but sex…sex is something I don’t take lightly,” Haley said.

I nodded, because for once Dally and Two-Bit didn’t have a comeback. Even they seemed to get it.

Haley sighed.

“Nathan said he got that,” Haley said. “That’s why he hasn’t pressured me into anything. But then I pointed out that he wasn’t pressuring me right then, either. And all he could do was shrug and say he was gonna heat up some food.”

Two-Bit burst out laughing.

“Classic,” Two-Bit chuckled. “Kid shuts down an awkward convo with leftovers.”

“Bet it was microwave pizza,” Dally added.

Haley smiled a little, but it faded fast.

“I don’t know, guys,” Haley said. “I just… I feel like he’s trying, but everything between us is moving so fast and I’m scared one wrong step will blow it up.”

I exchanged a look with Pony, and he gave me the faintest nod. We’d seen this before, people wanting to believe in something good but scared it’d vanish.

“You’ll figure it out,” I told her quietly. “He’s not the first guy to be confused, and you’re not the first girl to set boundaries. Doesn’t mean it won’t work out.”

For the first time since she sat down, Haley’s shoulders loosened.

“Thanks, Johnny,” Haley said.

Karen came back out then, asking Haley if she wanted anything to eat. Haley just shook her head and said she had to run. She gave us a half-smile and slipped out, leaving the café buzzing with the weight of everything she’d just laid on us.

Two-Bit leaned back in the booth, whistling low.

“Tree Hill’s gettin’ wilder by the day,” Two-Bit said.

Dally lit a cigarette by the back door, exhaling smoke like it was punctuation.

“And we’re right in the middle of it,” Dally said.

I couldn’t argue with him.

By the time we closed up at Karen’s and hiked back to the Curtis place, the smell of dinner hit us before we even got through the door. Darry was already moving between the stove and the counter like a drill sergeant in an apron. Soda and Steve came in not long after us, wiping grease off their hands from Keith’s shop.

“Wash up,” Darry barked, but there was a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. He liked having us all together, even if he’d never come right out and say it.

We piled around the table, plates clattering, hands reaching, and once Darry finally sat down, the chatter started up like usual.

“So,” Darry asked while taking a bite of food, “what did I miss today while I was working on roofs?”

Pony looked at me, and I knew I was gonna be the one to drop it.

“You missed plenty,” I said. “Brooke and Lucas had it out at school. Big time.”

Darry gave us a quizzical look.

“About the pregnancy thing?” Darry asked.

“She and Lucas went back and forth about it: she’s scared, he’s scared, everybody’s scared,” I said. “She threw some heavy words his way, even called him Danny Jr.”

“She’s going through stuff,” Darry said. “But she shouldn’t have stooped so low.”

“Yeah,” Pony added. “And it got worse when her phone rang, doctor’s office. She told Lucas it was definitely his if it’s true. Then she drove off.”

Silence hung for a second, except for Darry setting down his fork.

“She’s a kid,” Darry said finally. “They both are. That kind of talk…” He shook his head. “It’s heavy.”

Two-Bit, tried to lighten things up.

“Tree Hill High oughta start handing out baby booties instead of textbooks,” Two-Bit joked.

That cracked a few smiles, but then Dally leaned forward. “

That ain’t all,” Dally said. “Haley came by the café. She told us what happened at Nathan’s apartment.”

Soda leaned in, curious.

“Oh yeah?” Soda asked. “Spill.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, remembering Haley’s red face.

“She got his jersey number tattooed… above her ass,” I said.

Steve nearly choked on his mashed potatoes.

“No way,” Steve said.

“Way,” Two-Bit confirmed, grinning ear to ear. “Nathan saw it, freaked out, and then didn’t wanna make out. Haley said he’s confused she’d do something permanent like that but still won’t have sex with him. They argued a little, and Nathan ducked out by microwaving food instead of talking.”

Darry just closed his eyes for a second, muttering something like a prayer.

“Lord help me, this town is insane,” Darry grumbled.

“Welcome to Tree Hill,” Dally smirked.

Soda tapped his fork on his plate thoughtfully.

“So Nathan’s trying to figure out his head, Haley’s trying to figure out her heart, and Lucas and Brooke are stuck in the middle of a storm they probably aren’t ready for,” Soda said.

“Sounds about right,” Pony said quietly.

Dinner wound down with more talk of school gossip and the shop. Soda and Steve talked about how Keith was acting tired lately, and Pony and Two-Bit kept throwing jokes back and forth, trying to keep the mood lighter. But underneath it all, there was a weight pressing on the table that none of us could quite shake.

Tree Hill was getting messier by the day, and somehow, we were knee-deep in it.

The next morning, Tree Hill High buzzed with whispers before first bell. Word about Brooke and Lucas was already making the rounds, passed through the cheer squad like wildfire. We all trailed in behind Lucas as he scanned the hall like a man on a mission.

Sure enough, Brooke was with the cheerleaders, pom-poms in hand, already walking toward the gym. Lucas cut her off.

“Brooke, we have to talk,” Lucas said.

Brooke barely slowed her stride.

“I’m busy,” Brooke said.

“Brooke,” Lucas pressed, “we have to deal with this together.”

Brooke stopped then, but only for a second.

“We’re not together, remember?” Brooke snapped. “Congratulations, Lucas, you dodged the bullet just in time.”

Then Brooke turned, head high, and walked into the gym with the rest of the squad, not even looking back. Lucas stood frozen, like her words had been carved into him.

Peyton came up behind him, quiet but direct.

“Hey,” Peyton said.

Lucas turned, still watching the gym doors.

“You have to tell me about that fantasy kiss scenario I thought I saw,” Peyton said, arms folded. “It didn’t mean anything. I wouldn’t do that to Haley.”

“Yeah,” Lucas muttered, distracted, eyes still locked on where Brooke had gone.

Peyton followed his gaze.

“She’s gone, you know,” Peyton said.

“Huh?” Lucas blinked.

“Brooke,” Peyton clarified.

Lucas’s jaw tightened.

“Why?” Lucas asked. “Is someone looking for her?”

“You are,” Peyton said flatly.

Lucas let out a long sigh. Peyton tilted her head.

“Still freezing you out?” Peyton asked.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “Sort of.”

“Me too,” Peyton said after a beat. “You wanna talk about it?”

Lucas huffed.

“No,” Lucas said. “I’ve screwed things up enough as it is.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Peyton admitted softly.

“Worse than that,” Lucas said.

Peyton arched a brow.

“Worse how?” Peyton asked. “The best friend death-wish love triangle? What did you do, call her fat?”

Lucas shook his head.

Peyton sighed, tugging at the strap of her bag.

“Even though she’s pissed at me, Brooke’s still my friend,” Peyton said. “So what’s really going on?”

Lucas rubbed the back of his neck.

“What were we even thinking?” Lucas asks.

“Who?” Peyton asked.

“Me, you, Brooke,” Lucas said.

She looked down, biting her lip.

“I guess we weren’t,” Peyton said.

Lucas shook his head and finally walked into the school, leaving Peyton standing there in the hallway.

I’d seen fights before, plenty of them. But this wasn’t fists and busted lips. This was heartbreak stretched out for everyone to watch, and it left scars you couldn’t see.

The gang and I exchanged looks, but none of us said a word. There wasn’t anything we could say.

Chapter Text

Chapter 34

Pony’s POV

The gym was quiet except for the squeak of sneakers and the thump of basketballs. Me, Soda, Johnny, Steve, Two-Bit, Dally, and Darry were hanging out near the bleachers, cooling off after Lucas had finished shooting around. He still wasn’t a hundred percent after the accident, but you could tell he wanted to push himself back into rhythm. Darry leaned on the railing, arms folded, watching Lucas like a big brother more than a coach.

That’s when the gym doors creaked open, and Dan Scott stepped inside. His voice carried in that sharp, smug way of his.

“Careful with those knees, son,” Dan said. “Trust me, I know.”

We all turned, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. Lucas stiffened, ball in hand.

Dan walked closer, his shoes echoing against the hardwood.

“I know what it’s like to be sidelined with an injury,” Dan said. “Wouldn’t wish it on anyone serious about their game.” He gave Lucas a once-over, almost like a vulture eyeing prey. “How’s that shoulder?”

Lucas tossed the ball into the rack, answering coolly.

“Fine,” Lucas said.

Dan nodded slowly, but his eyes were sharp.

“Saw you the other day at the clinic,” Dan said. “With that girl.” He paused just long enough for the air to sour. “You’re treading in my area of expertise, Lucas. Maybe you could use some advice.”

I felt my stomach twist. The way he said it, it wasn’t fatherly. It was poison wrapped in a smile.

“You’re scared,” Dan continued, voice low, dangerous. “Don’t let the fear cloud your judgment. When your mom was pregnant with you, I told her to get an abortion.”

Lucas froze. So did the rest of us. The silence was so heavy it hurt.

Dan didn’t even flinch.

“Karen said no, but she was too emotional,” Dan said. “If she’d been thinking clearly, she would’ve done what I said.”

Lucas’s voice cracked but was steady enough to cut through.

“So your advice is… what?” Lucas said coolly. “To have an abortion? Like you would’ve aborted me?”

Dan’s expression stayed cold.

“You’ve got a lot of life left to live, Lucas,” Dan said. “Don’t let this girl make the same mistake your mother made. If you do… you’ll be paying for it until the day you die.”

He turned without waiting for an answer, footsteps echoing back out of the gym, leaving the words behind like smoke after a fire.

None of us said anything at first. Two-Bit’s usual grin was gone, Steve had his fists clenched, and Darry’s jaw was tight like he wanted to storm after Dan. Soda glanced at Lucas, who was standing still, shoulders stiff, eyes locked on the gym door long after it shut.

I wanted to say something, anything, but nothing felt right. All I knew was the look on Lucas’s face, like someone had just ripped open an old wound he didn’t even know he had.

By the time we left the gym, Lucas looked like he’d been hollowed out. He didn’t say much, just kind of walked beside us, staring at the ground. Even Dally kept his mouth shut, which told you how bad it was.

That night at the Curtis house, Darry had thrown together pork chops and mashed potatoes, the kind of meal that could almost make you forget how ugly the day had been. We crowded around the table, me, Soda, Steve, Johnny, Two-Bit, Dally, Lucas sitting stiff in one of the empty chairs, and Darry at the head.

For a while the noise was normal, Two-Bit cracking jokes, Soda trying to steal food off Steve’s plate, but then Darry asked quietly, “You gonna tell your mom what Dan said to you today, Luke?”

Lucas set his fork down, staring at the plate like it held all the answers. He finally lifted his head, his eyes tired but sharp.

“Tha he told my mom to get an abortion when she was pregnant with me,” Lucas snorted. “Hell no.”

The table went silent. My chest tightened, like I couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t listen to him, Luke,” Johnny said softly. “He’s just trying to mess with your head. That’s what people like him do.”

Lucas nodded once, but I could see the words still carved into him.

Before anyone else could speak, a knock came at the door. Darry got up, wiping his hands on a rag, and when he opened it, Peyton Sawyer stood there, her blonde curls falling into her face. She looked like she’d run straight over.

“Hey,” Peyton said. “Is Lucas here?”

Lucas pushed back from the table and walked into the living room, the rest of us trailing after. Peyton fidgeted with her sleeves.

“I just needed to tell you, Nikki came to me,” Peyton blurted. “She was asking questions, trying to stir things up. About Jake, about Jenny, about me.”

Lucas frowned.

“What’d you say?” Lucas asked.

“That she doesn’t get to walk back in and act like she cares,” Peyton said firmly. “And… I talked to Brooke too. She’s still hurting, Lucas. She feels like she’s drowning and doesn’t know how to trust either of us anymore.”

Lucas dragged a hand over his face.

“Great,” Lucas said. “So I’m losing Brooke, Dan’s trying to convince me my life’s a mistake, and now Nikki’s circling Jake like a shark.”

Two-Bit leaned against the wall, unusually serious.

“Welcome to Tree Hill,” Two-Bit said.

Peyton reached out, touching Lucas’s arm.

“You’re not a mistake, Lucas,” Peyton said. “Don’t let Dan poison you like that. You’ve got people who care about you. Brooke. Jake. Haley. Me. Them.” She nodded at us.

Lucas swallowed hard and finally nodded.

“Thanks, Peyton,” Lucas said.

Darry came up behind us, his voice calm but strong.

“Dan Scott doesn’t decide your worth, Luke,” Darry said. “You hear me? That man’s poison. You’re better than him. Don’t forget it.”

We stood there, a strange family pulled together by circumstance, all trying to hold up one guy who looked like the world had just kicked him in the gut.

For once, even Dally didn’t crack wise. We just… stayed there, letting Lucas know he wasn’t alone.

After school, the gang split up like always. Soda and Steve headed over to Keith’s auto shop, grumbling about how cold it was to be working with frozen wrenches and stubborn engines. Darry stayed over at the construction site, he’d taken a double shift to cover for one of the guys who called out. That left me, Two-Bit, Johnny, and Dally at the café, pulling aprons over our clothes and slipping into the rhythm of Karen’s place again.

Karen was back behind the counter, which made everything feel more solid, even though you could tell she was still on edge after the accident. Dally hated tying his apron but Johnny made him anyway, saying Karen deserved at least a little respect.

The bell over the door jingled, and Haley James walked in with her usual energy, waving to us as she made a beeline for Lucas, who was slumped at a table looking like the world was pressing down on his shoulders. She plopped a supersize bowl of soup in front of him, steam curling up from the surface.

“Eat,” Haley said, sliding it closer.

Lucas shook his head.

“I’m not hungry,” Lucas mumbled.

Haley raised an eyebrow, grabbed a spoon, and sat across from him.

“Alright,” Haley said. “More for me.” She dug in with exaggerated enthusiasm until he cracked a faint smile.

Then she set the spoon down, suddenly nervous.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Haley asked.

Lucas leaned back warily.

“That depends…” Lucas said.

“How many times per minute do guys think about sex?” Haley asks.

Lucas blinked at her.

“Per minute?” Lucas asked.

“Elle magazine says every thirty seconds,” Haley explained matter-of-factly, tilting her head like she was conducting serious research.

Lucas stared at her, his mouth open. Then he leaned forward, lowering his voice.

“Wait…you’re thinking about having sex with him?” Lucas said loudly. “With Nathan?”

Haley wrinkled her nose immediately, half grossed out and half flustered.

“No!” Hely said. “I mean, ugh, it just keeps coming up.”

Dally, drying glasses behind the counter, muttered, “So does…” Johnny elbowed him before he could finish.

Lucas cleared his throat, looking sheepish.

“Sorry,” Lucas said.

Haley sighed, slumping forward on her elbows.

“Wrong word,” Haley said. “But seriously… it’s confusing, Luke. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Lucas glanced around, then lowered his voice again.

“It’s not my place to tell you how to live your life,” Lucas said. “But for what it’s worth? I wish I’d waited. Because when you’re not ready… it’s just a passing moment. If you are, it’s something else entirely. If you’re not, don’t force it. Just wait.”

Haley chewed on her lip, staring into the soup.

“Yeah,” Haley said. “Thanks.”

From where I was wiping down a table with Johnny, I caught the look on her face, like she wanted to believe Lucas, but also didn’t want to admit how much the whole thing scared her.
“Man, Elle magazine’s got Tree Hill shook,” Two-Bit whispered.

I snorted, almost dropping my rag. For all the drama, this town always found a way to twist things up in the most ridiculous ways.

Dinner had just wrapped up at the Curtis house, the plates still stacked on the table while Steve and Two-Bit argued over whose turn it was to wash dishes. Darry had his arms crossed, pretending not to care, but we all knew he’d end up cleaning half of it himself. Johnny and Dally sprawled on the couch, Soda leaning back in the recliner with that restless grin of his.

That was when there was a knock at the door. Darry went to answer, and standing there was Lucas Scott, hands shoved into his pockets, looking like he’d just walked through a storm even though the night was clear.

“Hey,” Lucas said, nodding to Darry before glancing around at the rest of us. “Can I come in for a minute?”

“Sure, kid,” Darry said, stepping aside. “You look like hell.”

Lucas managed a weak laugh as he walked in.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “Feels about right.” He sat on the edge of the armchair, rubbing his hands together like he wasn’t sure where to start.

Soda leaned forward.

“Spit it out, Scott,” Soda said. “What’s got you lookin’ like someone stole your playbook?”

Lucas blew out a breath.

“I, uh… I had a conversation with Nikki today,” Lucas said.

That got everyone’s attention. Dally tilted his head, sharp eyes narrowing.

“Nikki?” Dally asked. “As in the same girl that’s been circling Jake and that baby?”

Lucas nodded, guilt written all over his face.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “And… she’s also the girl I had a one-night stand with. I didn’t know who she was at the time. Didn’t even know her name.”

The room went dead quiet. Even Two-Bit shut his mouth for once.

Steve whistled low.

“Man, Tree Hill just keeps on givin’,” Steve said.

Johnny frowned.

“So… you mean the mom who’s trying to get back into Jenny’s life?” Johnny said.

“Yeah.” Lucas dragged a hand down his face. “She tracked me down and laid it all out. Said it was a mistake, that it didn’t mean anything to her. But she made it real clear, she wants to be in Jenny’s life, and she doesn’t care how messy things get.”

Darry shook his head slowly.

“That’s a damn mess, Lucas,” Darry said.

“You think Jake knows?” Soda asked.

“No,” Lucas muttered. “And I don’t even know how I’d tell him if I wanted to. It was before I knew her, before I knew Jake, before Jenny. But still, it’s gonna blow up if it ever comes out. I can feel it.”

Two-Bit leaned back with a smirk.

“Well, ain’t that just like Tree Hill?” Two-Bit teased. “Everybody’s tangled up with everybody else, and it always circles back to the same small group.”

Dally cut him a sharp look.

“This ain’t funny, man,” Dally snapped. “That’s Jake’s life. That’s a little kid’s life.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lucas said, voice cracking a little. “That’s what’s eating at me. I’m stuck between telling Jake the truth and just… staying out of it.”

Johnny shifted on the couch, his voice quiet but steady.

“Secrets don’t stay buried, Lucas,” Johnny said. “Not in this town. Better to come from you than somebody else.”

The room settled heavy after that, the only sound Soda’s foot tapping against the leg of the recliner.

Lucas nodded faintly, like he knew Johnny was right but didn’t want to hear it.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “I just don’t know if Jake will ever look at me the same after.”

Darry spoke up, his voice solid and firm.

“Maybe not,” Darry said. “But you’ll know you were honest. That counts for somethin’.”

Lucas stood, looking worn out but a little lighter for getting it off his chest.

“Thanks, guys,” Lucas said. “I just needed to… tell someone.”

He left into the night, the screen door banging shut behind him. We all sat there, quiet, knowing that whatever storm was coming, Tree Hill was about to get even messier.

Chapter Text

Chapter 35

Soda’s POV

Lucas showed up at the Curtis house that night looking like the weight of the world was strapped to his shoulders. We were all piled in the living room, me stretched across the couch with Pony and Johnny on the floor, Two-Bit flipping through the channels, Darry leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, and Dally and Steve half arguing about music.

The second Lucas walked in, we all knew something was up.

He didn’t waste time.

“Brooke… lied,” Lucas said, voice tight. “She’s not pregnant. The doctor told her yesterday, the home test was wrong. But she told me it was positive anyway. She wanted to punish me for cheating on her with Peyton.”

The room went dead quiet. Pony blinked.

“She… she lied about something like that?” Pony asked in shock.

Lucas nodded, eyes dark.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “She just wanted me to suffer.”

Johnny shifted uncomfortably, rubbing his hands together.

“That’s… messed up,” Johnny said.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Two-Bit muttered, tossing the remote down. “You don’t fake somethin’ like that. That’s low, even for cheer squad drama.”

Steve whistled.

“Man, Tree Hill girls play rougher than Tulsa greasers,” Steve said.

Lucas gave a bitter laugh, then shook his head.

“And then I went to the dealership,” Lucas said. “I confronted Dan.”

That perked everyone up. Dally leaned forward, smirking like he was about to hear a fight recap.

“And?” Dally asked. “Did you clock him one?”

Lucas shook his head.

“Not exactly,” Lucas said. “I just told him he doesn’t get to play God with my life. He keeps trying to act like he knows what’s best for me, for Nathan… even for Karen. But he doesn’t. He ruined everything for himself, and he thinks he can control everyone else so he doesn’t feel alone.”

Darry spoke up, his tone steady.

“Takes guts to stand up to your old man like that, even if he ain’t much of one,” Darry said.

Lucas gave him a faint smile.

“Thanks,” Lucas said. “It felt… good. Scary, but good.”

Pony shifted closer, his voice soft.

“So what happens now?” Pony said. “With you and Peyton? With Brooke?”

Lucas sighed, dropping onto the arm of the couch.

“I don’t know,” Lucas said. “Brooke probably won’t forgive me. Peyton’s… complicated. But I can’t keep lying to myself about how I feel. Even if it blows everything up.”

Silence settled over the room for a minute, heavy but not unfriendly. I looked around at the guys, the greasers and the Scott kid who somehow felt like one of us now. We’d all been through our share of lies and heartbreak. This just felt like Tree Hill’s version of it.

“Guess the only thing to do,” I said finally, leaning back against the cushions, “is to keep movin’ forward. Ain’t no sense sittin’ in the wreckage.”

Lucas nodded slowly, like he wanted to believe that. Darry pushed off the doorframe and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“You’ll figure it out, kid,” Darry said. “You’re tougher than you think.”

And with that, the night settled into one of those quiet Curtis house evenings, everyone digesting the newest round of Tree Hill drama, knowing tomorrow would only bring more.

Morning hit quick, and we all ended up drifting toward the school in our usual pack, me and Steve leading the way, Johnny and Pony tagging close behind, and Two-Bit and Dally cracking jokes that carried down the street. Darry had already left hours earlier for his construction job, still trying to get his head around all the chaos swirling around Tree Hill.

We were just stepping onto campus when Haley came hustling up, backpack bouncing against her shoulder. She looked tired but wired at the same time, like she’d been up too late thinking.

“Hey,” Haley greeted us, falling into stride. “You guys want the morning update?”

Two-Bit grinned.

“Always,” Two-Bit said. “We live for Tree Hill drama, remember?”

Haley rolled her eyes but didn’t fight it.

“Okay, so, Nathan crashed in my room again last night,” Haley said.

That got a collective eyebrow raise from all of us. Steve nudged me with a smirk.

“And?” Steve prodded.

Haley shot him a look.

“Not like that,” Haley said. “He just… he couldn’t stay at his apartment again. Tim keeps throwing these giant parties over there every night, and Nathan’s had enough.”

Johnny frowned.

“That’s gotta suck,” Johnny said. “Can’t even use his own place.”

“Exactly,” Haley said, tugging at her sleeves. “So I told him we should do something about it. Like… have a ‘take back the party’ party this weekend. Make it ours instead of Tim’s. Lowkey though.”

Dally chuckled under his breath.

“Lowkey?” Dally teased. “With you Tree Hill kids? Not a chance.”

Pony smirked.

“And Nathan said okay?” Pony asked.

“Yeah,” Haley nodded, a little smile playing on her lips. “He actually thought it was a good idea. Said we just need to keep it chill.”

Two-Bit snorted.

“Famous last words,” Two-Bit said with a laugh.

Haley ignored him and turned to the group.

“Anyway, you guys are invited,” Haley said. “All of you. And tell Darry too, Nathan likes him, and it’d probably help if more people who aren’t total disasters show up.”

“Aw, look at that,” I teased. “We’re the stable ones now.”

“Speak for yourself,” Steve said, shaking his head, but he was grinning.

Haley just laughed, waving as she broke off toward her tutoring center shift.

“Spread the word, Curtis crew,” Haley said. “Party at Nathan’s. But seriously, lowkey!”

We all watched her go, then turned to each other.

“Lowkey, huh?” Johnny asked softly.

Dally smirked, lighting up like he already had plans.

“This town’s definition of lowkey is still wild compared to Tulsa,” Dally joked.

I shook my head, chuckling.

“Well, looks like we got ourselves a Saturday night booked,” I said.

After school split us all up like usual. Pony, Johnny, Two-Bit, and Dally headed toward the café for their shift, while me and Steve cut across town toward Keith’s shop. The grease-stained concrete and clang of tools felt familiar, like second nature at this point. Steve tossed his jacket onto the workbench, and I rolled up my sleeves, ready to dig into a busted-up alternator Keith had left out.

Keith was under the hood of a car when we walked in, hands already coated in oil. He straightened up when he saw us, wiped his palms on a rag, and gave one of those half-smiles that always looked a little tired lately.

“Glad you guys made it,” Keith said. “Got some tune-ups stacked, and I could use the help.”

“No problem,” Steve replied, cracking his knuckles like the grease monkey he was. “What’s on the list?”

Keith nodded toward the clipboard.

“Couple oil changes, a timing belt, and that alternator,” Keith said. “Shouldn’t kill us.”

We got to work, the hum of wrenches and the smell of engine cleaner filling the space. It wasn’t until we took a breather, me leaning against a tool chest and Steve guzzling water, that Keith finally dropped it.

“I should probably tell you guys something,” Keith said, eyes flicking from us back to the car. “I’ve got an interview tomorrow. Down in Charleston.”

Steve froze mid-sip, water bottle halfway to his mouth.

“Interview?” Steve asked, skeptical. “For what?”

Keith set the rag down carefully.

“A teaching position,” Keith said. “Auto class at the community college. It’s… steady pay, benefits. More secure than running this shop on fumes.”

I blinked at him, caught off guard.

“Wait, like… you’d leave Tree Hill?” I asked. “Move down there?”

Keith sighed, leaning back against the hood of the car.

“It’s just an interview,” Keith said. “Doesn’t mean I’ll get it. But yeah, it’d mean leaving town if it worked out.”

Steve’s face twisted like he didn’t know whether to be mad or impressed.

“Man, I didn’t see that coming,” Steve said.

“Yeah,” I added softly, trying to picture the shop without Keith. “But… that sounds kinda good for you, right? Stability. You deserve that.”

Keith smiled faintly.

“Thanks, kid,” Keith said. “I just… I don’t know what to do yet. This place, your family, Karen, Lucas, it’s all tied up here. Leaving wouldn’t be easy.”

Steve let out a low whistle.

“You drop this news on Karen yet?” Steve asked.

Keith shook his head.

“Not yet,” Keith said. “Not until I know if it’s real. But you boys deserved to know. You’ve been helping me keep this place afloat more than you realize.”

Me and Steve exchanged a look. The idea of Keith teaching sounded right, like something he’d be damn good at. But the idea of him gone… that didn’t sit easy either.

“Whatever happens,” I said finally, “we got your back.”

Keith gave me a look, proud, grateful, and nodded.

“I appreciate that, Soda,” Keith said.

The shop got quiet again, just the sounds of tools clinking and the low growl of an engine turning over. But my head kept spinning. Tree Hill without Keith Scott didn’t feel like Tree Hill at all.

By the time me and Steve got back from the shop, the house smelled like one of Darry’s hearty casseroles, the kind that could feed a small army. Everyone was already gathering around the table, Pony with a book tucked under his arm, Johnny quiet as always, Two-Bit cracking some dumb joke that had Dally smirking, and Darry moving between the oven and the table like he was running a restaurant.
We all dug in once the food hit the table, but Steve couldn’t keep his mouth shut for long. He leaned forward, fork halfway to his mouth.

“Alright, gotta spill something big,” Steve said. “Keith told us at the shop today he’s got an interview tomorrow.”

Pony glanced up, brows furrowed.

“An interview?” Pony asked. “For what?”

Steve set his fork down, dramatic as always.

“Teaching gig,” Steve said. “Down in Charleston. Auto mechanics at the community college.”

Johnny’s fork froze mid-air.

“So… he’d move?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “He said it’s just an interview, nothing locked in yet. But it’s serious. A steady paycheck, benefits, the whole nine yards. The way he said it… I think he’s tempted.”

The table went quiet for a beat. Even Darry stopped eating, looking thoughtful.

“That’d be a big step for him,” Darry said. “Keith’s been through a lot, though. Maybe something stable is what he needs.”

Dally huffed, leaning back in his chair.

“Tree Hill without Keith?” Dally asked. “Can’t picture it. He’s like… part of the scenery, y’know?”

Two-Bit piped up, stabbing his casserole with a fork.

“Funny you say that, ‘cause after you two heard it from him, Keith actually swung by the café,” Two-Bit said. “We were there when Lucas showed up too.”

“What’d Lucas want?” Darry asked.

Pony answered this time, setting his glass down.

“Said his physical therapist cleared him to play again,” Pony said. “His shoulder’s healing good. He seemed… I don’t know, lighter about it. Like it gave him something back.”

“Lucas back on the court,” Darry said with a small nod. “That’s good news.”

“Yeah,” Two-Bit went on, “but after Lucas left, Keith stayed behind. He told Karen about the interview. She didn’t look thrilled, but she listened. He hasn’t told Lucas yet, though.”
Johnny frowned, quiet but sharp.

“That’s gonna hit Lucas hard. Keith’s his guy,” Johnny said.

Steve shrugged.

“Better he hears it from Keith than from someone else, though,” Steve said.

The table slipped into thoughtful silence, everyone chewing over both the food and the news. It was heavy stuff, the idea of Lucas back in the game, and Keith maybe out of town altogether.
Finally, Darry spoke, voice steady like it always was when he wanted to keep us grounded.

“Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it,” Darry said. “Keith’s gotta do what’s right for him, and Lucas’ll handle it in his own time. In the meantime, we keep showing up, for each other, for Karen, for Keith. That’s all we can do.”

I caught Steve’s eye across the table, and for once, he didn’t have some sarcastic comeback. He just nodded, serious.

And just like that, dinner kept rolling, but I couldn’t shake the weight in the pit of my stomach. Change was coming to Tree Hill, whether any of us were ready or not.

Chapter Text

Chapter 36

Darry’s POV

The morning started like most others. I was already up before the rest of the house, coffee in hand, blueprints rolled out on the table. Work waited, and I didn’t mind. Swinging a hammer or hauling lumber beat sitting idle, and the paycheck kept food on the table for all of us.

By the time the boys were out the door for school, I’d already pulled on my work boots and headed down to the site. The new foundation we were pouring meant a long day of backbreaking labor, mixing concrete, cutting boards, the kind of stuff that left your arms sore and your head clear. That was the good part. Out here, there was no high school drama, no gossip, just the job in front of me.

Still, I couldn’t stop my thoughts from drifting. Lucas had been heavy on my mind lately; his shoulder finally cleared, back in the game, but weighed down by all this girl trouble. I knew how much Keith meant to him too, and with Keith sniffing around that teaching job in Charleston, it felt like Lucas was on shaky ground from every angle. I just hoped the kid had the backbone to stand steady through it.

By the time lunch rolled around, I ducked into my usual spot on the curb, unwrapped the sandwich Soda had slapped together for me, and that’s when I overheard a couple of the guys from the crew talking. One of their wives worked at the high school office, and apparently, the gossip was already making its rounds.

“Did you hear?” The guy said. “That Scott kid, Lucas, got caught kissing Peyton Sawyer. Right in the gym. By her best friend, no less.”

“Brooke Davis, right?” another chimed in. “She stormed out. Whole school’s buzzing.”

I sat there with my sandwich half-finished, staring off across the site. So that was it. The thing I’d been sensing for weeks, the triangle nobody wanted to admit, had blown wide open.

I couldn’t say I was surprised. Peyton and Lucas had been circling each other since day one. Brooke was loud, flashy, fun, but Peyton and Lucas shared that quiet fire, the kind that doesn’t just burn out. Didn’t mean I approved of the way it happened, though. Seeing it play out in front of the whole school… that was gonna leave scars.

Back on the job, I pushed harder than usual, driving nails until my arm ached, trying to shake the thought of Pony and the others sitting through the fallout in the hallways. They’d see it all firsthand, the whispers, the stares, Brooke shutting Lucas out, Peyton carrying guilt heavy as bricks.

By quitting time, I knew one thing for sure. Dinner that night was going to be loud, full of questions, jokes from Two-Bit, maybe Dally’s sharp-edged commentary. But under it all, it was gonna hurt, for Brooke, for Peyton, for Lucas.

And for me, well, I’d just have to do what I always do. Hold steady. Make sure my boys stayed grounded while Tree Hill kept throwing its storms our way.

By the time everyone tumbled through the door that night, I had dinner waiting, nothing fancy, just roast chicken and potatoes, but it was enough to get them all crowding the table fast. I’d been half-expecting the flood of gossip, and sure enough, as soon as plates hit the table, the stories started spilling.

Two-Bit, always the loudest, leaned forward with a grin.

“Man, Darry, you missed it,” Two-Bit said. “Brooke Davis caught Lucas and Peyton Sawyer kissing in the gym today. Right there in front of everybody.”

“Whole squad saw it,” Steve added, shaking his head. “Brooke didn’t stick around, though, she bolted. Peyton chased her.”

I set my fork down and let out a slow breath.

“Guess that explains what I heard at the site,” I groaned. “That’s gonna be messy.”

Pony spoke up, his voice quiet but sharp.

“Lucas looked wrecked after,” Pony said. “And Brooke… she’s not gonna forgive him easy. Peyton either.”

Johnny nodded, fiddling with his fork.

“Kinda feels like it’s blowing up everything,” Johnny said. “You could hear the whispers all through the halls.”

Dally snorted.

“Small town high school,” Dally said. “You trip in the hallway, people are still talking about it a week later. A kiss? Forget it, it’s all anyone’s gonna care about ‘til something else happens.”
I gave him a look.

“Doesn’t make it any less real for them,” I said.

Silence settled for a beat before Soda piped up.

“That’s not even the half of it, “Soda said. “You won’t believe what went down with Nathan.”

That caught my attention.

“What now?” I groaned.

Soda leaned back in his chair.

“After Haley left his apartment, Dan stopped by,” Soda said. “Nathan and Tim were playing video games. Tim cleared out, and then Dan lit into Nathan.”

Steve picked up the thread.

“Turns out Nathan sold the Mustang Dan gave him,” Steve said. “Dan found out and went ballistic.”

“He told Nathan he had two choices,” Pony said. “Either pay him back for the car or keep the money and move back home with him.”

Dally gave a low whistle.

“Bet Nathan loved that ultimatum,” Dally grumbled.

Soda grinned faintly.

“Yeah, he didn’t hesitate long,” Soda said. “Wrote Dan a check right there and handed it over.”

“Then told him to get lost,” Steve added. “Dan took the check and stormed out.”

Two-Bit chuckled.

“Guy’s such a piece of work,” Two-Bit said. “Gives his kid a car, then throws a fit when the kid decides to do what he wants with it.”

I sat back, letting it all sink in. Lucas and Peyton blowing up with Brooke, Nathan cutting himself loose from his father more every day… It all felt like dominoes starting to fall, one after the other.

“Sounds like both Scott boys are in the middle of storms they can’t dodge,” I finally said. “All we can do is stand steady when they need a place to land. You got it?”

They all nodded, some serious, some distracted, but I knew they heard me.

Dinner wound down after that, the usual mix of banter and clatter of plates. But in the back of my mind, I couldn’t shake the picture of Lucas staring after Brooke, or Nathan shoving that check into his father’s hands.

Tree Hill had its claws deep in both of them, and whether we liked it or not, in us too.

The next morning, the boys scattered for school like they always did, and I headed out early for the site. It was another long day ahead, sun beating down on fresh lumber and concrete dust clinging to everything. Out here, the world was simple: hammer, nails, and the job that needed doing.

But even on a construction site, word from the high school had a way of finding me.

I was tightening a frame with one of the guys when two of the crew started chatting during their break. One had a kid on the basketball team, the other’s wife worked in one of the shops at the mall. Between the two of them, I got more news than I wanted.

“Did you hear about Nathan Scott?” one said, chuckling. “Supposed to keep it lowkey, right? Him and that Haley girl throwing a little get-together at his apartment. Word is half the school is going to show up. So much for quiet.”

I shook my head, jaw tight. So much for keeping it small. Haley meant well, I knew that much, but Nathan’s world always seemed to turn everything into a spectacle.

The other guy piped up.

“That ain’t all. Kid’s working down at the food court now, making pretzels,” The guy said. “Guess he needs cash since he handed his old man back that car money.”

That bit stuck with me. Nathan Scott, prideful as they come, putting on an apron at the mall. Part of me almost respected it. Cutting loose from Dan, making his own way, even if it was humbling.

Later in the afternoon, I caught another snatch of gossip floating across the worksite. This time it was about Lucas.

“Yeah, Lucas Scott and that Peyton Sawyer girl?” The other guy said. “Heard they decided to just be friends. No more sneaking around. Guess they’re tired of all the drama.”

“Lucas asked her about Brooke, though,” the first guy added. “Peyton told him she didn’t care what he did. Cold.”

I set down my hammer, rubbed at my temples. Lucas and Peyton pretending they could just be friends, yeah, right. And Brooke acting like she didn’t care? That was a lie if I ever heard one. That triangle was gonna keep cutting, no matter what they said.

By quitting time, my shirt was soaked through with sweat, my muscles ached, but it was the gossip that weighed heavier. Kids caught in their own messes, trying to figure out who they were and what mattered. I knew I’d hear the full version at dinner tonight, straight from the boys themselves.

And when I did, I’d remind them of the one truth I kept circling back to: Tree Hill might feel like the center of the world right now, but storms pass. They always do. You just have to stand firm until they do.

By the time I made it home, the house was already alive with the noise of a full table. Pony was buried in his books even while he picked at his plate, Johnny half beside him, Dally leaning back with his usual half-smirk. Two-Bit was running his mouth, Soda and Steve still carrying the grease and grit from the shop in the smell of their clothes. Dinner was meatloaf and potatoes, simple, but it pulled everyone in.

It didn’t take long before Steve leaned forward with that look on his face like he was holding the day’s headline.

“So, Lucas and Keith finally had it out,” Steve said.

The table hushed. We already knew about the proposal Keith had made, Karen turning him down, and the Charleston interview waiting in the wings. But hearing Lucas had heard it straight? That was new.

“What’d Keith say?” Pony asked carefully, eyes flicking between us.

Soda jumped in.

“Keith told him it’s time to move on,” Soda said. “That the teaching job in Charleston isn’t just an idea, it’s something he’s ready to do. Said Lucas needed to hear it from him.”

Johnny looked down, chewing slow.

“That had to hurt,” Johnny said. “Lucas always leaned on Keith, more than anyone.”

Two-Bit let out a whistle.

“Well, hell,” Two-Bit said. “Lucas finds out Peyton and Brooke are done with him, then his uncle might be skipping town? Talk about a one-two punch.”

Dally chuckled darkly.

“Guess life’s finally showing Lucas what the rest of us already know, ain’t no guarantees,” Dally said.

“Dal,” Soda said, sharp, giving him a look.

I set my fork down and leaned in.

“Keith’s not abandoning Lucas,” I said. “He’s just being honest. He’s been carrying Karen and Lucas for years. Man’s got a right to want something for himself. Teaching in Charleston, it’s a clean slate. Doesn’t mean he stops caring.”

Pony was frowning.

“But what about Lucas?” Pony asked. “He’s already drowning. Losing Keith feels like someone cutting the last rope.”

I caught his eye, steady.

“That’s part of growing up,” I said. “Sometimes the people you count on… they change direction. Doesn’t mean they leave you behind, it means you learn to walk steady on your own.”

The table went quiet after that, save for the scrape of forks and Two-Bit trying to lighten it by claiming Johnny had hogged all the potatoes. But the weight lingered, Keith’s choice, Lucas’s hurt, and what it all meant for the people who leaned on each other in this town.

The next day on the site, I was pushing through the usual grind—hammer, saw, sweat, and the noise of men talking about everything except the work they’re doing. Tree Hill always had a way of dragging drama onto the worksite, and I’d gotten used to hearing the town’s gossip filter through like sawdust in the air.

That’s when one of the guys leaned over, smirking.

“Hey Curtis, you hear?” The guy said. “Jagielski’s slingin’ coffee now.”

I straightened, squinting.

“Jake Jagielski?” I asked. “The kid with the baby?”

“Yeah. Karen’s Café,” the guy said. “She’s letting him bring the little one with him, too. Cute setup, I guess, customers don’t mind. He works, she sleeps in the back.”

That one settled in my head. Jake always struck me as solid, but the idea of raising a baby and working a job at seventeen? Kid had guts. Reminded me of myself some days, trying to grow up too fast ‘cause you had no other choice.

By lunchtime, more news trickled in. Apparently Deb had stopped by the café, talking with Karen about her mess with Dan. Word was, Dan still refused to sign divorce papers, acting like he could drag it out forever. Nathan, meanwhile, wasn’t losing sleep over it, kid probably just glad to be out of the house.

“Deb told Karen that turning down her partnership offer was the dumbest decision she ever made,” one guy said between bites of his sandwich.
That made me stop mid-hammer.

“Wait, so Karen’s partnership?” I said. “The café?”

“Yeah,” the guy nodded. “Karen told her it still stands. Deb said good, let’s do it. Then marched off saying she was giving Dan twenty-four hours to clear his crap out of her house or she’d send it all to Goodwill.”

I couldn’t help a chuckle at that. Deb Scott might’ve looked polished and soft around the edges, but when she pulled her spine up straight, she could cut deep.

And then came the kicker. Apparently Keith strolled into the café right after, telling Deb he’d be happy to help her burn Dan’s things. Typical Keith, trying to joke through the storm.

But Karen, she wasn’t laughing. She gave Keith a brand-new tie, said it was for his interview. They even talked about that conversation he’d finally had with Lucas. The one Steve and Soda told me about a few nights ago. Keith letting go. Lucas having to hear it from his uncle’s own mouth.

I stood there on the job site, the sun beating down and sawdust clinging to my shirt, and all I could think about was how everyone in Tree Hill was shifting, moving pieces around like a chessboard. Jake stepping up with his baby, Deb drawing battle lines with Dan, Keith maybe walking out of town, Lucas standing at the edge of being on his own.

Funny thing, while the world spun like that, all I could do was keep my head down, swing the hammer, and make sure there was still a roof and a dinner table for my brothers and the gang to come home to.

Chapter Text

Chapter 37

Two-Bit’s POV

Dinner at the Curtis house always had that messy kind of comfort to it. Forks clinking, Darry trying to keep some order, Soda cracking jokes, and me… well, I was doing my part keeping the mood light. But tonight, the talk kept circling back to two names: Jake and Keith.

“Man, can you believe Jake’s gonna be at the café now?” Pony said between bites. “Karen’s lettin’ him bring Jenny with him, too.”

Johnny nodded, a small grin tugging at his face.

“Kinda fits,” Johnny said. “Jenny’s practically already a part of the crew.”

“Hell,” I snorted, waving my fork for emphasis, “kid’s got more fans than the Ravens do. Stick her in the café with those big eyes of hers and customers will be leaving triple tips.”

That got Soda laughing so hard he nearly spit out his mashed potatoes. Darry shot him a look but there was no real heat behind it.

“Jake needs it,” Darry said, steady and serious as always. “A job where he can balance school, Jenny, and some support from Karen. That’s important.”

I shrugged but nodded. Couldn’t argue with that one. Jake had been through it, same way a lotta us had, just different flavor of hard.

Steve leaned back in his chair, smirking.

“He’s gotta learn to juggle, man,” Steve said. “School, work, basketball, baby. Makes me tired just thinkin’ about it.”

“Yeah, but he’s doin’ it,” Johnny said softly, like he respected the hell outta Jake for it.

Conversation slid over to Keith, and I swear the room shifted a little, like everyone straightened up just a notch.

“He had his interview today,” Soda said, glancing around the table. “Charleston. Teaching auto.”

I twirled my fork.

“Think he nailed it?” I asked.

“From what I heard, yeah,” Soda went on. “Looked sharp, sounded ready. Karen even gave him a new tie for luck.”

“Better than the ones he usually wears,” Steve muttered. “Guy dresses like he’s stuck in ‘78.”

That cracked the table up again, even Darry. But then Darry sobered, leaning in a little.

“Keith said it himself, it’s time he moves on,” Darry said. “From Karen. From the way things were. If he gets that job, it could be good for him.”

I clinked my fork to my glass like a toast.

“Here’s hopin’ then,” I said. “New beginnings, right? Jake at the café, Keith maybe headin’ to Charleston. Guess Tree Hill’s never quiet.”

The gang chuckled, but under it there was this weight we all felt, the sense that things were shifting around us, just like they always seemed to do in this town.

And me? I figured all you could do was laugh your way through it.

Saturday mornings at the Curtis house weren’t much quieter than school days, just different. Instead of the scramble for books and classes, it was Darry hammering around with work gear, Soda and Steve bickering about car parts, and me stealing pancakes off Pony’s plate while Johnny pretended not to notice.

“You’re a menace,” Pony muttered, yanking his fork like he could guard his breakfast from me.

“Correction,” I said with a grin, chewing through my stolen bite, “I’m a professional taste tester. Keeping you from poison, kid.”

“Pretty sure Darry cooked ‘em, not me,” Pony shot back.

“That’s the point,” I fired, and Soda nearly choked from laughing, while Darry gave me that big-brother glare that said cut it out without saying it.

Dally finally dragged himself into the kitchen, hair a mess, leather jacket already slung over his chair.

“All this noise before noon, swear you people are trying to kill me,” Dally grumbled.

“Before noon?” Steve barked out a laugh. “It’s nine, man. That ain’t early.”

“It is if you were out till three,” Dal muttered, snagging a mug of coffee like it owed him money.

Darry shook his head.

“Don’t ask,” Dally muttered.

We didn’t.

Talk slid where it always seemed to lately, Tree Hill gossip. Pony had the update about Haley’s “take back the party” party at Nathan’s apartment tonight.

“She told me it was supposed to be low-key,” Pony said, sipping orange juice.

Johnny tilted his head, soft and doubtful.

“You think it’ll stay that way?” Johnny asked.

I snorted so loud Darry sighed.

“C’mon, low-key and Nathan Scott don’t go together,” I said. “I give it two hours before the whole school’s crammed in there, keg and all.”

“More like one hour,” Steve grinned. “Tim’ll probably show up with half the cheer squad.”

“Just hope the place don’t get trashed,” Soda said, but he was smirking like even he didn’t believe it.

Darry leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching us like he always did, half responsible guardian, half one of us.

“You boys keep your heads straight tonight,” Darry said. “Tree Hill drama’s already messy enough without the lot of you making it worse.”

“Hey, we’re the picture of responsibility,” I said, and the table broke out in laughter so loud Darry had to crack a grin.

Truth was, Saturday had that electric charge to it. The kind that came before a big game or a wild night, except this time, it was a party.

And if I knew anything about our crew and this town, the night was bound to spin into something none of us could predict.

By the time night hit, Tree Hill had already been buzzing about Nathan’s so-called low-key party. “Low-key,” my butt. It was written all over the kids at school during the week, and by Saturday evening, you could practically feel it in the air.

We rolled up as a crew, me, Pony, Johnny, Dally, Soda, Steve, and even Darry (who grumbled about babysitting us but came anyway). From the minute we stepped inside, I knew Haley had lost the battle of keeping things small.

The apartment was packed wall-to-wall, bass thumping from somebody’s stereo, kids sprawled on couches, drinks in hands, laughter spilling over like a dam broke.

“Low-key, huh?” Dally smirked, shoving his way through the crowd like he owned it. “Tree Hill’s got a funny idea of small.”

Soda whistled low.

“Nathan’s gonna kill Haley for this,” Soda said.

Johnny stuck close to Pony, wide-eyed but grinning.

“This is… a lot,” Johnny said.

“No kiddin’, Johnnycake,” I said, clapping his shoulder. “Welcome to the circus.”

We spread out, some of us drifting toward the kitchen, others toward the noise in the living room. Darry kept an eagle eye, arms folded, making sure none of us got stupid.

Haley was playing host, moving through the crowd like he didn’t even care the place was overflowing. Nathan, though, Nathan looked ready to implode. He was perched by the counter, trying to keep things under control, but every time someone new poured through the door, I saw his patience crack a little more.

Across the room, Lucas was posted up near the wall, keeping an eye on Peyton and Brooke. Drama waiting to blow, if you asked me.

“Feels like half the damn school’s here,” Steve muttered to Soda as they shoved their way toward the kitchen for drinks.

“Try more than half,” I snorted, snagging a bag of chips off the counter before some random cheerleader could.

Things got rowdier as the night stretched. The Ravens were there, hyping each other up. Tim was already plastered, making a fool of himself. Brooke danced like the whole world was watching, Peyton tried to pretend it wasn’t all weighing on her, and Nathan…poor Nathan…kept trying to be the responsible one in a crowd that didn’t want to be tamed.

At one point, I caught Darry’s eyes across the room, him shaking his head slowly like he couldn’t believe this was what we signed up for.

“This party’s gonna blow up in somebody’s face,” Darry muttered to me when I passed by.

“Yeah,” I grinned, crunching down on a chip. “But till then? Might as well enjoy the show.”

Because that’s what it was, loud, messy, full of drama. Classic Tree Hill.

And the Tulsa gang? We were right in the thick of it.

The party had already hit the kind of chaos that makes you wonder how long before the cops showed, when the real storm walked through the door.

Nikki.

She strutted in like she owned the place, her smile sharp as glass. Heads turned, whispers rippled through the crowd, and I saw Peyton stiffen instantly. You could almost feel the temperature in the room drop ten degrees.

“Aw, hell,” Dally muttered beside me, lighting a cigarette even though Darry shot him a look that could’ve killed. “This is about to get good.”

“Good?” Pony frowned, his stormy eyes locked on Peyton. “More like a mess.”

He wasn’t wrong. Nikki made a beeline straight for Peyton, her voice sugary sweet but dripping with venom.

“Where’s Jake?” Nikki asked. “I figured if I couldn’t find my baby at home, he must’ve left her with his favorite babysitter.”

Peyton’s jaw clenched, and she fired back.

“You don’t get to talk about Jenny like that, Nikki,” Peyton said. “Not when you’ve been out of the picture since day one.”

The whole living room went quiet, everyone circling like sharks sensing blood in the water. Even the music felt lower somehow, tension buzzing louder than the bass.

“You think you’re some saint, Peyton?” Nikki snapped. “You don’t know the first thing about being a mother. You’re just some sad little girl clinging to someone else’s kid to make yourself feel needed.”

That hit hard, and Peyton’s face turned red. Before anyone could stop it, she lunged, shoving Nikki back. Nikki shoved right back, and then it was fists, nails, and a tangle of blonde hair and angry shouts.

“Damn!” I hollered, half shocked, half entertained. “Tree Hill never disappoints!”

Johnny winced.

“This ain’t good,” Johnny whispered.

Soda and Steve started moving fast to break it up. Darry was already on his feet, pushing through the circle forming around the fight like a linebacker clearing the field.

“Cut it out!” Darry barked, pulling Peyton back by the arm while Soda grabbed Nikki from the other side. The girls were still yelling, Peyton calling Nikki a trashy excuse for a mom, Nikki spitting back that Peyton was nothing but a homewrecker wannabe.

The crowd went wild, half chanting, half jeering, phones already out to record it. Classic high school circus.

Lucas pushed through, his face tight with worry, pulling Peyton out of Darry’s grasp.

“Peyton, stop!” Lucas shouted.

Jake wasn’t even there, which made it worse. Nikki knew exactly what she was doing, stirring this drama without the guy in question around to even defend himself.

Finally, the room started to settle, but the damage was done. Peyton’s makeup was smeared, Nikki’s hair was a mess, and the whole apartment buzzed with the kind of gossip that was gonna spread like wildfire by Monday.

“Hell of a party,” Steve muttered, shaking his head.

“Hell of a train wreck,” Johnny corrected softly.

Me? I just grinned, tossing another chip in my mouth.

“And we didn’t even have to pay for tickets,” I joked.

The fight cooled off, but the party didn’t. If anything, it only ramped up, like Tree Hill had been waiting for an excuse to blow the roof off Nathan’s apartment. Music blasted louder, the crowd pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, and the air reeked of beer and perfume.

I leaned against the wall with Johnny and Soda while Darry kept his hawk-eye scan on the chaos. Pony stuck close to him, like he knew things were about to get bad.

Sure enough, Nathan finally found Haley near the kitchen, his voice cutting through the noise.

“I thought this was supposed to be low-key!” Nathan said, his eyes wide and worried.

Nathan ran a hand through his hair, looking half-guilty, half-annoyed.

“Yeah, well, it got outta hand,” Haley continued. “I didn’t mean for this…”

“Out of hand?” Natgan pressed. “Hales, this is a disaster.”

“Relax, Nate,” Haley said, trying to play it cool. “It’s just a party.”

But he shook his head, biting his lip.

“This isn’t you,” Nathan said. “You’re not that girl.”

I caught Soda’s glance across the room and smirked.

“Man, when your guy starts sounding like your conscience, you know you’re cooked,” Soda said.

Before Haley could reply, the pounding on the door silenced the room. Then came the shout:

“Tree Hill Police! Open up!”

The whole crowd froze for about two seconds before half of them bolted for the back. People were spilling out windows, stumbling down the stairwell, dropping cups and bottles along the way.

“Ah, hell,” Darry muttered, already pushing us toward the front.

The cops came in anyway, flashlights and stern faces, hands on their belts. They started herding kids together, pointing at beer cans and overturned bottles.

One officer looked straight at Nathan.

“This your place?” The officer asked.

Nathan swallowed hard, but he nodded.

“Yeah,” Nathan said.

The cop’s expression didn’t soften.

“Then you’re responsible,” The cop said. “Citation for underage drinking, disturbing the peace…”

“Wait, that’s bull,” Nathan snapped. “Half these people showed up without me even knowing. I didn’t ask for this!”

“Doesn’t matter,” the officer shot back. “You’re the leaseholder, you’re on the hook.”

“Yeah, well maybe if you guys actually did your job and shut down Tim’s parties, this wouldn’t be…” Nathan started.

“Enough,” the cop barked. And before anyone could blink, Nathan’s wrists were behind his back and cuffs clicked shut.

The whole room gasped. Haley stepped forward, panic written all over her face.

“Nathan!” Haley shouted. “No, wait…he didn’t…”

But the cops were already walking him out, ignoring her.

Haley turned back to us, her face pale.

“What do we do?” Haley asked.

Darry put a steady hand on her shoulder.

“We’ll figure it out,” Darry said. “But right now, we stick together. That’s what we do.”

I let out a low whistle as the crowd dispersed, the adrenaline still buzzing in my veins.

“Man, this party went from fun to Cops real fast,” I said.

Soda shot me a look, but I couldn’t help it. Even with the mess, even with Nathan in cuffs, that’s just the kind of night you don’t forget.

Chapter Text

Chapter 38

Steve’s POV

The red and blue lights bounced across the street as we trailed the squad car. I had one hand gripping the dash and the other clenching a fist against my knee, trying not to grind my teeth. Soda was driving like he could will the cops to go faster just to get Nathan out of this mess. Pony sat beside me in the back, quiet but restless, drumming his fingers on the seat like his nerves needed somewhere to go.

“Man, that party went to hell quick,” Two-Bit muttered from the far side, shaking his head. “One minute it’s music and laughs, next minute Peyton’s throwin’ punches and Nate’s gettin’ hauled off.”

Dally barked a laugh, though it wasn’t really funny.

“Kid thinks he can back-talk cops like he runs this town,” Dally said. “Guess he learned real quick.”

“Yeah, well,” Johnny spoke soft, “he’s still just a kid. Don’t mean he deserves this.”

We all fell quiet after that, watching the flashing lights pull into the police station lot. Darry leaned forward from the passenger seat, his jaw tight, voice even tighter.

“Stay together,” Darry said. “Don’t cause any trouble. We’re just here to back him up.”

Soda nodded and killed the engine, and we piled out.

Inside the station lobby it smelled like stale coffee and paperwork. Nathan was already being walked out when we got there, looking half pissed and half scared, but too proud to admit either. His eyes darted when he saw us lined up, and for a second you could tell it meant something to him, even if he’d never say it.

Then Dan Scott stormed in.

I swear the air shifted. Guy didn’t even have to raise his voice yet, he just carried that authority like a weapon. He started in on Nathan the second the cops handed him over.

“Do you have any idea how this looks?” Dan asked. “How it reflects on me?”

I felt my stomach twist. There it was. Not are you okay, son? Not what happened? Just me, me, me.

Nathan squared his shoulders, his voice sharp but cracking at the edges.

“This isn’t about you, Dad,” Nathan retorted. “It’s never about you. It’s about me trying to live my life without you choking me every step of the way.”

The cop at the desk gave a look like he’d seen this movie before, and Soda shifted beside me, arms folded, brows drawn down.

Dan stepped closer, eyes narrowing.

“You want to live without me?” Dan asked. “Fine. But don’t think you can drag the Scott name through the mud while you’re at it.”

“Your name’s already in the mud,” Nathan shot back, and for a second it felt like the whole place froze.

Pony’s eyes went wide, like he couldn’t believe Nathan had said it out loud. Two-Bit gave a low whistle under his breath. Dally, of course, smirked like he was watching a prizefight.

Then Haley appeared from outside, breathless, worry etched all over her face. She made a beeline for Nathan, like she didn’t care who was watching.

“Are you okay?” Haley asked, ignoring Dan completely.

Nathan softened just a little at her voice, and that’s when I saw it, the crack in the armor. He wasn’t untouchable. He wasn’t just this cocky jock. He was a kid drowning in his old man’s shadow, and Haley was his only rope.

Dan scoffed, shaking his head.

“This is what you’re throwing your life away for?” Dan asked. “A tutor?”

That was enough for Darry. He stepped forward, not close enough to start something, but enough to make it clear we weren’t just gonna stand by. His voice was steady but low, meant to carry.

“That’s his call, not yours,” Darry said.

Dan gave us all a once-over, that same look adults always give greasers, like we were trouble in human form. But he didn’t say anything. Not this time. He turned back to Nathan, hissed something too quiet for me to catch, and stormed out into the night.

The door slammed, leaving Nathan standing there with Haley’s hand in his. He looked like a guy who’d just gone a few rounds and didn’t know if he’d won or lost.
Soda clapped him on the shoulder.

“C’mon, Nate,” Soda said. “Let’s get outta here. You don’t need to hang around this place any longer than you have to.”

Nathan didn’t answer, but he let Haley guide him past us, out toward the lot. We followed, the whole gang trailing behind like a second shadow.

And me? I couldn’t stop thinking about the look in his eyes when Dan showed up. That mix of anger and hurt. I’d seen it before, in Pony, in Johnny, in myself. The kind of look you get when the person who’s supposed to have your back is the one pushing you down.

And I hated that I understood it.

By the time the next day rolled around, I figured the mess at the police station would be the only drama we’d be talking about for a while. Turns out I was dead wrong.

Dinner at the Curtis house felt like one of those nights where every kind of gossip and bad news got dumped on the table all at once. Darry had made stew, simple and heavy, the kind of meal that should’ve been comforting, but the conversation kept making it anything but.

Soda was the first one to bring it up, leaning back in his chair, spoon dangling between his fingers.

“So, Keith told us at the shop today… he got offered that teaching job in Charleston,” Soda said. “Starts in a couple weeks.”

The table went quiet for a beat, except for Pony setting his spoon down slow, like the thought of Keith leaving hit him in the gut.

“He’s… actually going?” Pony asked. “For sure?”

“Yeah,” Soda said, his voice softer now. “He’s startin’ to pack already.”

Darry let out a low breath and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand.

“Guess I can’t blame him,” Darry said. “After everything with Karen, he probably needs a clean start. Still, that’s gonna be rough on Lucas.”

Johnny poked at his bowl.

“Feels like everyone’s leavin’ lately,” Johnny said. His voice was barely above a whisper, but we all heard it.

Two-Bit tried to lighten it, grinning crooked.

“Hey, least it ain’t us this time,” Two-Bit said. “You’re stuck with me for life, Johnnycake.” He nudged Johnny with his elbow, earning a tiny smile in return.

Then Dally leaned back, smirking like he couldn’t help himself.

“And speaking of folks who can’t keep their lives straight… heard Dan and Deb slept together again last night,” Dally said. “Then today, Dan finally said he’d give her the divorce.”

“About time,” Darry muttered, shaking his head. “He’s been stringin’ her along for too long.”

“Yeah, but you know Dan,” I added, picking at the bread on my plate. “Bet it ain’t the end of him meddling.”
Pony shifted in his seat, his voice quick, like he wanted to change the subject.

“Peyton found out about Lucas and Nikki,” Pony said. “The one night stand. She’s not happy.”

Two-Bit let out a low whistle.

“Man, Luke’s life is startin’ to look like one of those soap operas my ma used to watch,” Two-Bit said. “Who’s kissin’ who, who’s lyin’ about what…”

Soda chuckled, though it was short-lived.

“Still, can’t blame Peyton,” Soda said. “That’s a hard thing to swallow.”

The rest of dinner rolled out with that same heavy mix, talk about Keith leaving, about Dan finally handing Deb the divorce papers, about Lucas digging himself deeper into drama. Darry tried to keep us grounded, reminding us we had our own stuff to handle, but I could see the way he was listening, soaking it all in. That’s what he did.

Then, just as Soda was clearing dishes and I was about to flop onto the couch, there was a knock at the door.

Darry frowned and went to answer it, wiping his hands on a dish towel. When he swung it open, we all froze.

Cherry Valance.

She stood there with that familiar calm composure, red hair pulled back and travel bag slung over one shoulder. For a second, none of us said a word. It was like a ghost from Tulsa had walked straight into Tree Hill.

“Cherry?” Pony’s voice cracked, wide-eyed.

She smiled, but it was tight, nervous at the edges.

“Hey,” Cherry said. “Hope I’m not interrupting. I… I needed to see you all.”

“See us?” Soda repeated, stepping forward.

Cherry shifted her bag.

“Yeah,” Cherry said. “I…things back home aren’t great. My folks are fighting worse than ever, and I just… I needed a break. A place where I wouldn’t feel like I’m stuck in the middle. And Tree Hill seemed like the place to find some familiar faces.”

We exchanged looks around the room. Nobody said no. How could we? She was one of us, in her own way.

“C’mon in, Cherry,” Darry said finally, moving aside. “You’ll be safe here.”

And just like that, the Curtis house had one more soul under its roof, and we all had the feeling Tree Hill was about to get even more complicated.

Morning came fast in the Curtis house. Too fast, if you asked me. One minute I was rolling over, the next Darry was hollerin’ for us to get moving before we were late for school or work.

The kitchen was chaos, plates of toast disappearing, Pony trying to grab his notebook with one hand while tying his shoe with the other, Soda humming some stupid tune under his breath while wolfing eggs. Darry looked like he was already halfway out the door, his work shirt tucked in crisp, thermos in hand.

And then there was Cherry.

She sat at the table, neat and quiet, like she didn’t want to take up space. Still, there was something in her eyes, a kind of tired that I’d only seen back in Tulsa when she was dealing with her parents fighting.

“You sure you’re up for school today?” I asked her as I grabbed my jacket.

She shrugged, brushing back a strand of red hair.

“I don’t wanna sit around the house by myself,” Cherry said. “Besides, I need something normal.” Her smile wobbled, and she added softer, “Back home… things are bad. My folks, they’re at each other’s throats again. I just… needed to breathe, y’know? And you guys, Tree Hill, it felt like the only place I could come.”

The room went real quiet for a second. Even Two-Bit, who was usually never short on a wisecrack, didn’t say a word. Darry finally nodded, setting his thermos down.

“Then you stick with us, Cherry,” Darry said. “We’ve got you.”

That was that.

We all spilled out onto the street, the morning air cold enough to wake me up for real. On the way, Pony pointed down the block, Nathan and Lucas were already out there running laps at six a.m., sweat steaming off them in the early chill. Whitey must’ve had them prepping for the playoffs, because they looked about ready to keel over.

“Those two are gonna run themselves into the ground,” Johnny muttered, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Better them than me,” Two-Bit shot back with a grin.

By the time we hit Karen’s Café before school, Cherry was still keeping close to Soda’s side like she wasn’t sure how people here were gonna take her. Karen spotted us first, waving from behind the counter.

“Morning, boys,” Karen said. “And…” Her eyes landed on Cherry. “New face?”

“This is Cherry,” Pony said quickly. “She’s a friend of ours from back in Tulsa. She’s stayin’ with us a bit.”

Karen’s smile softened, the way it always did when she decided someone belonged.

“Any friend of theirs is welcome here,” Karen said. “I’m Karen.”

That seemed to ease some of Cherry’s nerves.

Just then, Nathan and Lucas came in fresh off their run, still breathing hard, sweat dampening their shirts. Lucas raised an eyebrow at Cherry, curious.

“This is Cherry,” I said, introducing her before the silence got awkward. “Old friend.”

Nathan gave a short nod, but Lucas smiled easy.

“Welcome to Tree Hill,” Nathan said. “You picked an interesting time to visit.”

“You have no idea,” Cherry said, her voice low but with the hint of a smirk.

I watched the way she glanced around, like she was still trying to figure out where she fit in this new puzzle. But one thing was clear, she wasn’t alone anymore. Not here.

School felt different with Cherry walking in beside us. We’d done this routine for weeks now, hallways filled with Tree Hill kids, gossip flying from every locker door. But with Cherry trailing us, it felt like bringing a piece of Tulsa into this world, like the two lives we’d been juggling were colliding in plain daylight.

Cherry was glued to Pony’s side, not in a clingy way, but more like she just trusted him most outta all of us. I got it. He was the easiest to lean on. Hell, he was probably the only one of us who could make this feel normal for her.

We introduced her around in the halls, but it wasn’t until we passed the cheer squad in the gym that the real test came. Peyton and Brooke were standing there, side by side for once, not on opposite ends of the room shooting daggers at each other.

“Hey,” Pony said, nudging Cherry forward. “This is Cherry. She’s a friend from back home.”

Peyton gave one of those half-smiles of hers, arms crossed like she was trying not to let anyone too close.

“Back home as in Tulsa?” Peyton asked.

“Yeah,” Cherry said, her voice soft but steady. “I’m… staying here for a while. Parents are kinda… going through it. They said I could stay here, transfer my records, make it official.”

Brooke’s eyes flicked over her outfit, her hair, the whole Cherry package, like she was cataloguing what kind of girl she was. Then, to my surprise, Brooke grinned.

“Well, welcome to Tree Hill, Cherry,” Brooke said. “Anyone who can hang with these boys is probably tougher than she looks.”

That cracked the ice a little. Peyton gave a small nod, too.

By lunch, Cherry had slipped into the rhythm easier, but I caught her outside on the payphone, voice low. She was calling her folks. When she came back, her face was pale, but she forced a smile.

“They’re sending my records over,” Cherry said. “Guess I’m officially a Raven now.”

“Guess that makes you one of us,” Pony said, slinging an arm around her shoulders, the kind of brotherly comfort only he could pull off without making it weird.

Later in the day, word spread fast about Lucas, Nikki, Brooke, and Peyton. Apparently Brooke and Peyton were back to talking, working through their fight during cheer practice. Something about them both realizing Lucas had screwed them over in his own way. They weren’t best friends again overnight, but you could see the walls coming down.

Meanwhile, the Ravens had basketball practice. We all stuck around the gym bleachers, watching. Cherry sat beside Pony, whispering questions about who was who. Whitey walked slow across the court, whistle hanging heavy around his neck.

“Alright, boys,” Whitey said, voice rough as ever. “I got somethin’ to tell you.”

The team straightened, nervous.

“I’m gonna be missing your first playoff game,” Whitey said.

The whole gym buzzed with shock. Nathan’s head shot up. Lucas leaned forward.

“Coach, what are you talking about?” someone asked.

Whitey tugged his cap off, rubbing his head.

“Got me a surgery scheduled,” Whitey said. “Nothin’ too serious, but serious enough. Doc says I can’t put it off no more. You’re a good team. You’ll manage without me for one damn game.”

Nobody looked convinced. Nathan muttered something to Lucas about Whitey being the only reason they even had a shot.

“You boys think I’ve carried you this far?” Whitey barked. “Hell no. You’ve carried yourselves. And you’ll do it again. Don’t play for me. Play for yourselves.”
The way his voice cracked, though, you could tell it weighed on him.

Cherry leaned toward Pony.

“He’s like… the only one holding them together, huh?” Cherry whispered.

Pony nodded.

“Yeah,” Pony said. “Him and maybe Haley.”

I sat back, arms crossed, taking it all in. This town never stopped moving, drama, games, family fights, and now surgeries. And here we were, smack in the middle of it, trying to keep up.

Chapter Text

Chapter 39

Dally’s POV

The smell of Darry’s skillet steak and onions filled the small kitchen, mixing with the sound of silverware scraping against mismatched plates. Everyone looked half-dead tired from the long day, except Cherry, who was still wide-eyed from all the new faces and Tree Hill chaos.

“Whitey’s really gettin’ surgery?” Darry asked, pouring gravy over his mashed potatoes. His tone had that half-concerned, half-fatherly weight to it, the same tone he used when talking about someone’s dumb decision that he still secretly respected.

Steve nodded, slouching against the back of his chair.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Told the whole team during practice today. Said he’s gonna miss the first playoff game.”

Two-Bit leaned back with his fork dangling between his fingers.

“Man, you’d think that dude was made outta steel the way he keeps goin’,” Two-Bit said. “Can’t imagine him sittin’ out for anything.”

“Guess even legends gotta take care of themselves,” Soda said, nudging his mashed potatoes into a swirl. “Still, feels weird. That guy’s been coachin’ longer than we’ve been breathin’.”

Pony had been quiet, his mind somewhere else.

“Lucas looked pretty shaken up,” Pony said finally. “Said Whitey tried to brush it off, like it wasn’t a big deal, but you could tell he was scared.”

Darry sighed, pushing his plate away for a second.

“That’s what happens when people carry too much for too long,” Darry said. “He’s probably been ignorin’ whatever’s goin’ on for years. Reminds me of half the guys on the crew.” He gave a tired smile, but his eyes didn’t match.

Johnny spoke softly, his voice steady but low.

“He’ll be okay, though, right?” Johnny asked.

Darry nodded, more certain than he sounded.

“Doctors’ll take care of him,” Darry said. “Tree Hill can handle one game without him.”

Cherry had been listening quietly from her spot near Pony.

“You guys really look up to this Whitey guy,” Cherry said, smiling faintly. “He sounds like the Darry of basketball.”

That got a laugh out of everyone, even I cracked a grin.

“Nah,” I said, “Whitey doesn’t throw wrenches at people when they slack off.”

Darry gave him a look over the table.

“You wanna test that theory?” Darry asked.

I just smirked.

“I’m good, boss,” I teased.

The laughter eased the room for a while. Soda passed Cherry the bread basket. Two-Bit started retelling a ridiculous moment from earlier that day, something about Brooke calling Nikki “Psycho Barbie” after another confrontation in the hallway. Pony nearly choked on his water laughing.

But underneath the easy noise, Dally could feel the weight. Everyone was thinking about change, Keith leaving soon, Whitey’s surgery, Dan and Deb’s mess blowing apart again. Even Cherry showing up from Tulsa had reminded them that their lives didn’t stand still anymore.

When the plates were empty and the conversation started to fade, Darry gathered the dishes and nodded toward me.

“Mind helpin’ me with these?” Darry asked.

I got up, carrying a couple plates to the sink.

“Sure thing,” I said. “Guess I owe you after that comment.”

Darry chuckled quietly.

“You owe me plenty more than that,” Darry said.

From behind them, Two-Bit called out, “Don’t break the dishes, Dallas! Those are vintage Curtis house classics.”

“Yeah,” I shot back, “so old they’re practically fossils.”

The kitchen filled with the clatter of running water and light banter, the kind that felt normal again for the first time in a while. And even if I wouldn’t say it out loud, I liked it, this mix of chaos, laughter, and loyalty that made up their life in Tree Hill.

The Curtis house had gone quiet after dinner, well, quiet for them, anyway. The TV hummed low from the living room where Two-Bit and Steve were half-watching a rerun of Gilligan’s Island while arguing about what kind of car the Professor would drive if he ever got off that island. Johnny sat cross-legged on the floor sketching something in his notebook, while Soda tried to wrangle the mess of homework papers spread across the kitchen table into neat piles.

Darry was still at the sink, washing the last of the dishes, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows. Every so often, he’d glance over to make sure no one was goofing off too hard, a habit he couldn’t break.
Pony and Cherry had claimed the far corner of the couch, a couple of schoolbooks spread open between them. From where I sat near the window, fiddling with his lighter, I could see the way Cherry leaned in when Pony read something aloud. Their voices were low, sometimes breaking into soft laughter, and Pony’s ears were pinker than usual.

I flicked the lighter open and shut, watching the small flame dance before snapping it closed. I smirked.

Soda noticed it too, leaning back in his chair with that knowing grin of his.

“You seein’ what I’m seein’, Dal?” Soda said quietly.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Kid’s actin’ like he’s never sat next to a girl before.”

Two-Bit, hearing that, twisted around on the couch.

“Who’s makin’ goo-goo eyes now?” Two-Bit teased.

“Pony and Cherry,” Soda said, chuckling. “Think he’s tryin’ to impress her with his essay on symbolism or somethin’.”

Cherry looked up at that, smiling good-naturedly. “You all know he’s got a brain, right? He doesn’t have to impress me.”

“Aw, but he’s tryin’ anyway,” Two-Bit teased. “That’s the romantic spirit of Tree Hill! We’re practically in a teen soap opera.”

Pony rolled his eyes.

“You’re impossible,” Pony muttered.

I snorted.

“Don’t mind him, kid,” I said. “He’s just jealous no girl’s dumb enough to sit that close to him.”

That earned another round of laughter. Two-Bit pointed his pencil at me.

“You wound me, man,” Two-Bit said. “Truly.”

Darry finally spoke from the sink, drying his hands.

“You all keep it down,” Darry said. “Some of us gotta be up early tomorrow.” His voice was stern, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He knew the drill, the noise, the teasing, the life in his house, it was part of what made it home.

The noise quieted for a bit after that. Soda went back to sorting papers. Johnny was still sketching, now drawing something that looked suspiciously like the River Court. Steve had fallen asleep on the couch, one hand dangling off the side and his half-finished math worksheet sliding to the floor.

I leaned against the window frame, watching the faint reflection of the group behind him in the glass. Pony said something that made Cherry laugh again, not a loud laugh, but the kind that softened her face, made the whole room feel easier somehow. Pony looked proud of himself for it, and I had to bite back a grin.

Soda came over and nudged my arm.

“Think he’s got a shot?” Soda asked in a low voice.

“Kid’s got a good heart,” I said, my tone quiet, almost thoughtful. “And Cherry’s no fool. She sees that.”

Soda tilted his head.

“That sounded downright sentimental for you,” Soda teased.

I smirked and flicked my lighter again.

“Don’t get used to it,” I grumbled.

By the time the clock hit ten, Darry called lights out. Pony and Cherry had their books stacked neatly, their voices dropping to a whisper as they talked near the door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Cherry said softly.

“Yeah,” Pony replied, almost shy. “Thanks for helpin’ me with the English stuff.”

Cherry smiled, brushing a strand of red hair behind her ear.

“Anytime, Ponyboy,” Cherry said.

When she left for the guest room, I caught the dazed look still on Pony’s face and couldn’t resist.

“Careful, kid,” I drawled, “you keep lookin’ at her like that and Darry’s gonna start givin’ you the talk.”

Pony’s face went crimson.

“Shut up, Dally,” Pony mumbled.

Everyone laughed, even Darry.

“Alright, enough,” Darry said, still smiling. “Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow’s gonna be another long day.”

As everyone shuffled off to bed, I stayed behind a moment longer, staring out the window at the dark stretch of street beyond. Tree Hill had a way of pulling them all into its drama, but tonight, it just felt like home.

And maybe, I thought, watching Pony grin faintly to himself before heading down the hall, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

Morning came too early. The sun had barely cleared the treeline when the Curtis house filled with the usual rush, Darry already out the door for work, hollering a last-minute reminder about lunch money. Pony was scrambling to find his other shoe, Soda was half-dressed and brushing his teeth while tying his shoes, and Johnny and Steve were arguing over who drank the last of the milk.

Cherry sat at the table, sipping coffee and watching the chaos like she’d seen it all before. There was an easy kind of smile on her face, the one that made her fit right into the Curtis house, like she’d always belonged there.

“Y’all act like you’re runnin’ late for the end of the world,” Cherry teased.

Soda grabbed his jacket and flashed her that trademark grin.

“That’s just a normal morning ‘round here,” Soda said.

By the time they piled out the door, I was already lighting a cigarette and heading toward the old truck they were carpooling in. Pony hung back for Cherry, who was slinging her bookbag over her shoulder.

“You ready?” Cherry asked him.

“Yeah,” Pony said, voice soft. “You sure about going to Tree Hill High again today?”

Cherry shrugged.

“Sure enough,” Cherry said. “Better than sittin’ around tryin’ to pretend Tulsa isn’t fallin’ apart without me.”

Something flickered in her eyes when she said that, the kind of hurt I recognized but didn’t pry into. Pony looked like he wanted to ask more, but he didn’t. He just walked beside her, matching her pace all the way to the truck.

By the time they rolled into the Tree Hill High parking lot, the air buzzed with that pre-practice chatter that never seemed to die down. The Ravens were gearing up for playoffs, cheerleaders were practicing outside, and the gossip mill was already spinning at full tilt.

Haley was waiting near the front steps, backpack slung over one shoulder, grinning when she saw them.

“Morning, guys,” Haley called out. “You’ll never guess who’s suddenly acting like a decent human being.”

Steve smirked.

“Soda?” Steve teased.

“Funny,” Soda said, tossing his empty coffee cup at him.

Haley rolled her eyes.

“Nathan, actually,” Haley said. “He’s going to practice with Lucas after school today.”

That got a few raised eyebrows.

“Seriously?” Two-Bit said. “Didn’t they just about tear each other’s heads off a couple weeks ago?”

“Yeah,” Haley said with a proud little smile. “But this time it’s not about Dan. I asked him to give Lucas a chance, and he said yes.”

Johnny gave a small grin.

“Guess love really does make people do weird things,” Johnny said.

“Guess so,” I muttered, flicking my cigarette to the ground.

Pony nudged Cherry lightly.

“Haley’s good for Nathan,” Pony said. “Kinda reminds me of…”

Cherry raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t even say it,” Cherry said.

Pony laughed, his cheeks coloring. I saw it, the way Cherry looked at Pony, how her smirk softened just a little. It wasn’t just teasing anymore; it was something that looked dangerously close to real.

A few minutes later, as the gang headed through the courtyard, voices rose near the gym.

“Uh oh,” Steve muttered. “Here comes trouble.”

Sure enough, Dan Scott was in full father-on-a-rampage mode, storming across the court toward Whitey Durham. The man’s face was red, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.

“You’re not coaching the playoffs?” Dan snapped. “You owe it to those boys, Whitey!”

Whitey didn’t even flinch.

“I don’t owe anyone anything, Dan,” Whitey said, indifferent. “I’ve got surgery lined up, and those boys can handle a few games without me.”

Dan’s jaw clenched.

“You think they can handle it without you?” Dan sneered.

“Yeah,” Whitey said flatly. “Because unlike you, I believe in ‘em.”

The air went cold. The hallway crowd went quiet. Even the cheerleaders had stopped practicing, pretending to tie their shoes just to eavesdrop.

Dan scoffed, shaking his head.

“You’re makin’ a mistake,” Dan protested.

Whitey gave him a look that could’ve melted steel.

“Son, I’ve been makin’ mistakes since before you learned how to dribble,” Whitey said. “This ain’t one of ‘em.”

Dan stalked off, fuming. Whitey just sighed and turned away, heading toward his office.

“Man,” Two-Bit said under his breath, “that dude needs therapy.”

“He had therapy,” I said. “Didn’t stick.”

Cherry leaned toward Pony.

“Who’s that?” Cherry asked.

“Dan Scott,” Pony said quietly. “Lucas and Nathan’s dad. Basically the guy everyone loves to hate.”

Cherry blinked.

“Guess some things don’t change no matter the town,” Cherry said.

Pony smiled faintly.

“Yeah,” Pony said. “But some things get better.”

I caught the look they shared and smirked again. Sheesh, the kid was gone. Pony kept glancing her way every few seconds, and Cherry didn’t seem to mind one bit.

Chapter Text

Chapter 40

Johnny’s POV

By the time we got to the River Court, the light was soft and heavy, that golden hour that makes even cracked pavement look alive. Nathan and Lucas were already there, taking turns at the free throw line, shirts damp and faces set with something like purpose. The rest of us spread out along the sidelines. Darry leaned against the chain-link fence, arms crossed. Soda was tossing a ball back and forth with Two-Bit. Steve and Dally had found the tailgate of someone’s truck to sit on.

Cherry and Pony lingered near the edge of the court, where the light hit her hair just right, copper catching fire. She laughed at something he said, soft and quiet, the kind of laugh that makes a person look younger. Pony didn’t even notice the rest of us watching. His shoulders relaxed around her, like she’d found a way to take the weight off without him realizing it.
Nathan tossed the ball to Lucas.

“So, what?” Nathan asked. “You come out here to make me look bad?”

Lucas gave a half-smile.

“Nah,” Lucas said. “I think you do that all on your own.”

It wasn’t mean. There was this easy rhythm between them, like they’d finally figured out how to stop fighting gravity.

They shot for a while, wordless except for the bounce of the ball and the scrape of sneakers. The sound filled the space like breathing.

“Dan ever talk about me?” Lucas asked. “When you were little?”

Nathan caught the rebound, held it a second too long.

“When I was little, I used to hear my parents arguing about you,” Nathan said. “So yeah, I knew you were out there.” He dribbled once, looked down. “Dan hated that fact, so I hated you. I thought whatever he wanted me to think. Sounds stupid now, but… it made sense at the time.”

Lucas nodded, spinning the ball on his fingertips.

“He told me he wanted joint custody,” Lucas said. “Of me.”

Nathan stopped moving.

“Didn’t see that coming,” Nathan said as he gave a hollow laugh. “One decent thing the guy does, and he buries it.”

Lucas shrugged.

“Guess if he’d gotten his way, we’d have grown up together,” Lucas said.

Nathan looked over at him.

“Yeah?” Nathan said. “What would that’ve gotten us?”

Lucas smirked.

“We could’ve teamed up against him,” Lucas said.

Nathan shook his head, smiling a little.

“We would’ve killed each other,” Nathan retorted.

Lucas laughed, the kind that came from someplace lighter.

I watched the two of them, brothers, figuring out how to talk without throwing punches, and thought about how rare it was to see someone untangle themselves from old ghosts. Dally muttered something about how the Scotts had more drama than a soap opera, but there was no bite to it. He was watching, too.

Cherry shifted closer to Pony. They were standing shoulder to shoulder now. Her hand brushed his, just for a second, like she wasn’t sure if she meant to or not. Pony’s ears went pink, but he didn’t move away. He just looked at her, really looked at her, and for once, didn’t hide behind words.

Darry caught it, too. His eyes softened a little, maybe thinking about how fast everything changes. Soda nudged me and grinned.

“Kid’s gone,” Soda whispered.

“Yeah,” I said. “Guess he is.”

The light faded, the air turning cooler. Lucas and Nathan kept shooting, the rhythm between them steady now, almost like music. We stayed until the sky went violet and the streetlights flickered on, everyone quiet in that easy, rare kind of silence that doesn’t need filling.

For a few minutes, everything in Tree Hill felt still. No fights. No ghosts. Just brothers on a court, finding something like peace.

It was one of those quiet nights at the Curtis house where the noise didn’t come from arguments or sirens, just life. Soda was flipping through the TV channels, looking for a rerun of something funny, Dally was sprawled out in the armchair like he owned it, and Darry was doing his usual balancing act of pretending not to watch us while reading the newspaper. Pony and Cherry were sitting on the couch, heads close together, pretending to look at one of her sketchbooks.

The knock came after dinner, soft but nervous. Soda got up first, but when he opened the door, Haley James was standing there, fidgeting with her backpack strap like she might bolt if she said the wrong thing.

“Hey, Hales,” Soda said, all sunshine as usual. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

Haley tried to smile, but it came out tight.

“Uh, hey,” Haley said. “Sorry for dropping by so late. Is, uh, Lucas here?”

“Not tonight,” Darry said from behind his paper. “You’re welcome to sit, though. You look like you could use some air.”

Haley hesitated, then stepped inside. Her eyes flicked over all of us, Dally smirking from the armchair, Two-Bit waving a beer bottle like a peace flag, Pony and Cherry looking up in surprise.

She sat on the edge of the couch.

“I…uh, I kinda needed some advice,” Haley said nervously.

Soda leaned forward.

“What’s up?” Soda asked.

Haley took a deep breath, looking down at her hands.

“It’s about Nathan,” Haley said.

The room went a little quieter, that kind of silence where everyone’s pretending not to be nosy. She looked like she’d swallowed her nerves whole.

“I was working on my Darwin paper on Nathan’s laptop,” she said slowly. “And I found… something. His search history.”

Two-Bit raised a brow.

“Lemme guess, he’s secretly researching penguins or somethin’?” Two-Bit asked.

Haley shot him a look.

“No,” Haley said. “Try a website called Original Sin, Hot, Nasty, Girls!”

That got a few raised eyebrows. Dally let out a short whistle. Soda’s grin faltered into a sympathetic wince. Pony froze. Darry lowered the paper entirely.

“Aw, hell,” Dally muttered. “Kid’s got curiosity issues.”

Haley’s voice cracked just slightly.

“It wasn’t just that one,” Haley said. “There were links to…” She glanced at Cherry, cheeks burning. “...other websites. Like escort stuff. I don’t even know what to think.”

Soda leaned forward gently.

“Hey, don’t go thinkin’ the worst right away,” Soda said. “Guys can be dumb sometimes. Doesn’t mean he’s, y’know, doin’ anything shady.”

Darry nodded.

“He’s probably just… young,” Darry said. “Doesn’t make it right, but it doesn’t have to mean more than that.”

Haley nodded slowly, biting her lip.
“Yeah. I guess I just needed to say it out loud before I spiral,” Haley said.

Two-Bit grinned awkwardly.

“Well, if you ever want to look up somethin’ not trashy, I can recommend cat videos,” Two-Bit teased.

“Keith Mathews,” Darry warned, and Two-Bit shut up quick.

Cherry shifted on the couch, voice soft.

“You should talk to him, Haley,” Cherry said. “Really talk. Not in anger, just… honest.”

Haley gave a small smile at that, then nodded.

“Thanks,” Haley said. “I think I’ll do that.”

Haley stayed for a bit longer, laughing quietly at Soda’s dumb impressions until the tension melted off her shoulders. By the time she left, she looked lighter, not fixed, but steadier.

After Haley was gone, the night settled again. The TV hummed low, the lamp throwing soft light across the room.

I was sitting near the window when I noticed Pony and Cherry slip out onto the porch. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, not really, but their voices carried through the thin screen door.

Cherry was tracing her finger along the porch railing.

“Tree Hill’s… different,” Cherry said quietly. “Back home, everything feels so heavy. Here, it’s… slower. Easier.”

Pony smiled a little, the way he does when he’s trying not to scare a moment away.

“Yeah?” Pony asked. “Easier’s not something we get a lot of.”

Cherry looked up at him then, really looked, and I swear the whole porch went still. Pony brushed a bit of hair from her face, and she didn’t pull away.

“You make it easier,” Pony said, just above a whisper.

Cherry smiled, small and certain.

“Then maybe I’ll stay,” Cherry said.

And just like that, she leaned in. Soft, slow. A kiss that looked more like a promise than anything else.

I sat there, quiet in the dark, pretending I hadn’t seen a thing. Some things deserve privacy, even in a house that never has any.

When they came back inside, cheeks pink, nobody said a word. Soda just shot me a knowing grin, and I just smiled back, keeping the secret tucked away.

Because for once, after everything Tree Hill and Tulsa had thrown our way, we were all catching a breath before the next storm.

The next day….

By the time we all made it home that night, the smell of dinner was already thick in the air, something good and warm that Darry had thrown together after work. The table was full before I even sat down: Soda and Steve still half-laughing about something that happened at the shop, Pony and Cherry whispering side by side like they didn’t think anyone noticed, Dally tapping his fork against his plate out of habit, and Two-Bit pretending to juggle the bread rolls until Darry gave him a look that said don’t even think about it.

“Alright,” Darry said, settling into his chair. “Who’s got the news tonight? Judging by the looks on your faces, there’s plenty.”

Soda grinned.

“You’re not wrong, big brother,” Soda teased. “The whole town’s buzzin’. You wanna start, Pony?”

Pony hesitated, then nodded.

“Apparently, Keith and Karen had it out today,” Pony said. “He found out that Dan wanted joint custody of Lucas when he was born.”

Darry frowned mid-bite.

“What?” Darry asked.

“Yeah,” Two-Bit chimed in. “Keith’s really mad. Says Karen should’ve told him years ago.”

“She said it didn’t matter since she didn’t go through with it,” Pony added softly. “But Keith said it still did. He’s hurt.”

Darry exhaled through his nose, shaking his head.

“Keith’s got a right to feel that way, but… that’s a hard secret to carry,” Darry said.

“Yeah,” Soda said quietly. “There’s more, though.”

Of course there was. There always was.

“Dan went behind Whitey’s back,” Dally said, his voice dripping with disgust. “He’s gonna coach the playoff game while Whitey’s in the hospital for surgery.”

That got a round of groans. Steve dropped his fork.

“Man, that guy doesn’t quit,” Steve grumbled. “Who even lets him do this stuff?”

“Probably himself,” Two-Bit muttered. “Self-appointed King of Tree Hill.”

Darry rubbed his temples.

“Poor Nathan,” Darry said. “That’s the last thing that kid needs right now.”

The noise around the table died down a bit after that, until Cherry cleared her throat softly.

“Actually,” Cherry said, looking between all of us. “I, uh… have some news too.”

Pony’s fork froze halfway to his mouth.

“What kind of news?” Pony asked.

Cherry smiled nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“I talked to my parents,” Cherry said. “They’re letting me stay in Tree Hill until I graduate high school, if it’s okay with you guys.”

The room lit up.

Soda clapped his hands together.

“Well, darlin’, you just made this circus permanent,” Soda said.

Two-Bit whooped.

“We got ourselves another honorary greaser!” Two-Bit shouted.

Even Darry smiled, that rare, real smile that softened him up.

“You’re welcome here, Cherry,” Darry said. “Long as you follow the same rules as the rest of these knuckleheads.”

Cherry laughed, eyes bright.

“Deal,” Cherry said.

The moment felt light, warm, until Steve leaned back.

“Okay, so, about Brooke and Peyton…” Steve said.

Everyone groaned in unison.

“Hey, it’s worth telling!” Steve defended. “Apparently, while they were walking around the mall with Jake’s baby, Nikki showed up outta nowhere and picked up Jenny.”

Cherry’s jaw dropped.

“What?” Cherry asked, flabbergasted.

“Yep,” Soda said, shaking his head. “Brooke and Peyton freaked out, tried to get Jenny back, but Nikki wouldn’t let go. There was yelling, people staring, total chaos.”

“Peyton called Jake,” Pony added, eyes wide. “But some friend of his answered the phone. By the time Jake found out what was going on, Nikki had already walked off with Jenny. Security had to get involved.”

“That’s messed up,” Dally said. “You don’t just take someone’s kid like that. That’s low.”

“Welcome to Tree Hill,” Two-Bit muttered. “Population: drama.”

Everyone laughed weakly, but the sound didn’t reach their eyes. It felt like every time the town started to breathe again, something new got thrown at it.

After dinner, while the others drifted toward the TV or their books, I lingered a second longer at the table. Pony and Cherry were laughing about something in the kitchen, something small, soft, secret. Soda and Steve were arguing over who’d left a wrench at the shop. Dally was half-dozing in the armchair, and Darry was rinsing plates, tired but peaceful for once.

And for just a heartbeat, it felt like maybe, even with all the chaos out there in Tree Hill, this little house still had something that place didn’t, something that kept us all coming back.

Family.

Chapter Text

Chapter 41

Pony’s POV

It was one of those quiet nights where the house buzzed with the noise of forks and plates but not much else. We were all halfway through dinner when Haley knocked. Her eyes looked like they hadn’t slept, and her voice cracked before she even sat down.

“Sorry to barge in again,” Haley said, twisting her hands. “I, I just didn’t know who else to talk to.”

Soda motioned for her to sit.

“You’re family now, Hales,” Soda said. “Whatever’s goin’ on, we’re all ears.”

Haley took a deep breath, staring at the table instead of us.

“It’s about Nathan,” Haley said. “You know the sites I told you about last night that I caught Nathan looking at? I confronted him tonight about it.”

Two-Bit’s fork froze halfway to his mouth.

“Really?” Two-Bit asked, even though we knew she meant it.

Haley’s face flushed red.

“Yeah and just, he brushed it off,” Haley said. “Said he ‘stumbled onto them.’”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say,” Steve muttered under his breath.

Haley’s voice rose.

“He said it’s no big deal!” Haley said. “That guys just look at that kind of thing.”

Johnny leaned forward a little.

“And what’d you say?” Johnny asked.

“I told him not to be a guy, be a man,” Haley said as she exhaled shakily. “I told him it’s hard enough feeling like I’ve got to compete with every perfect girl at school, and now he’s got… them in his head. I just… can’t compete with that.”

Darry frowned.

“You shouldn’t have to,” Darry said firmly. “If he cares about you, that kind of junk doesn’t belong in your relationship. It’s not about being jealous, it’s about respect.”

Haley nodded, tears stinging her eyes.

“That’s what I thought,” Haley said. “But he made me feel crazy for saying it.”

Soda leaned back.

“Nah, you ain’t crazy,” Soda said. “You’re just honest. Nathan’ll either get that or he’ll lose you. Simple as that.”

The table went quiet for a minute, just the sound of the clock ticking over the fridge.

Then Cherry, who’d been sitting next to me and playing with her napkin, spoke softly.

“Sometimes people look for things that aren’t real because they don’t know what to do with what is,” Cherry said. “You’re real, Haley. He’s lucky you care enough to be hurt.”

Haley smiled faintly, blinking through the tears.

“Thanks, Cherry,” Haley said.

After dinner, we all ended up in the living room. Haley eventually left, saying she’d try to sleep on it. The gang started drifting off to their own corners, Two-Bit flipping channels, Soda helping Darry with bills, Steve making dumb jokes from the couch.

Cherry lingered by the door.

“Hey,” Cherry said quietly, catching my eye. “You wanna go for a walk? Just… to clear our heads?”

I nodded, and we slipped out into the cool night air. The streets were quiet, the hum of faraway traffic echoing off the trees.

We didn’t say much at first, just walked side by side, the moon lighting her hair in silver streaks. Then Cherry stopped at the edge of the curb, looking down the road.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Cherry murmured. “About people not knowing what to do with what’s real.”

I smiled a little.

“Yeah, I figured you did,” I said.

Cherry looked at me then, really looked, eyes soft, nervous but sure.

“You’ve always been real, Pony,” Cherry said. “Even back home. That’s… rare.”

Before I could say anything, she leaned in, gentle, almost hesitant, and kissed me. It wasn’t the first time. But still. My hear fluttered.

It wasn’t like the movies. It was quiet, simple, and it felt like everything stopped for just a second. When she pulled back, she was smiling, cheeks flushed.

“Guess that’s one secret I don’t wanna keep forever,” Cherry whispered.

But Cherry did make me promise not to tell anyone, not yet. Not till she was sure what this was. I just nodded, heart racing in my chest, the night spinning around us.

From the window upstairs, I saw movement, Johnny’s silhouette in the dark, curtain shifting. He’d seen. I knew he had. But when I caught his gaze, he didn’t say a word.

He just smiled faintly, the kind that said don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.

The house had just started to calm down when another knock came at the door.

“Come in!” Soda called. Before even getting up, and Jake, Peyton, and Brooke stepped inside, looking like they’d just walked through a tornado and weren’t sure which way was up.

Johnny and I exchanged a glance from where we were cleaning up dinner plates. Dally leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, watching them with that guarded look he always had when something was about to get messy.

Brooke was the first to talk.

“Okay, so, we had the craziest day ever, yesterday” Brooke said, shaking her head. “We were just walking around the mall, me and Brooke with Jenny, when Nikki showed up.”

Two-Bit whistled low.

“The crazy baby mama?” Two-Bit said. “We heard.”

Brooke shot him a look.

“Yeah,” Brooke said. “The crazy baby mama.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck. He looked exhausted.

“She just came out of nowhere,” Jake said. “One second Peyton’s pushing the stroller, the next Nikki’s right there, picking up Jenny like she’s hers.”

Peyton sighed.

“And it got ugly,” Peyton said. “Fast.”

Brooke crossed her arms.

“Nikki was acting like she was on some sweet mother-daughter outing, and I told her to put Jenny down,” Brooke said. “She didn’t. So I told her if she didn’t let go, I’d. well, I didn’t finish the sentence because security came running. Plus we called Jake.”

Johnny gave a small snort.

“You?” Johnny said. “Threatenin’ somebody? I believe it.”

Brooke pointed at him.

“Hey, don’t mess with a girl holding a stroller,” Brooke said. “I’ve got mom strength now.”

Cherry laughed under her breath, sitting beside me on the couch. Jake looked over at her, a small, tired smile flickering before fading.

“Anyway, Peyton called me after Nikki ran off, security got involved, but by the time I got there, she was gone,” Jake said.

“Gone with Jenny?” Darry asked, his tone sharp.

Jake shook his head.

“No, thank God,” Jake said. “Peyton grabbed her back before Nikki could leave. But it was close. Too close.”

The room went quiet for a second. Soda leaned forward.

“You think she’ll try again?” Soda asked.

Jake nodded slowly.

“Yeah. I think she will,” Jake said.

Dally cracked his knuckles.

“You say the word, man, we’ll keep an eye out,” Dally said. “Not that she’s gonna come waltzin’ into Tree Hill Café and try somethin’, but still.”

Jake chuckled dryly.

“Thanks, man,” Jake said.

Before the air could get too heavy, Brooke perked up again, as if remembering something.

“Speaking of crazy parents, guess who caused a scene at the café today?” Brooke said.

Two-Bit groaned.

“Please tell me it’s not Dan again,” Two-Bit said.

“Oh, it’s totally Dan again,” Brooke said, eyes wide. “Apparently he cornered Deb right there in front of everyone. Told her she hadn’t worn out her welcome yet and that Karen made her partner. And then Deb, like the queen she is, hands him back his fancy watch from the night before.”

Johnny raised his brows.

“Wait, the night before?” Johnny asked.

Brooke smirked.

“Yeah,” Brooke said. “They apparently slept together. Which is insane. Who does that right before your marriage actually ends?”

Peyton rolled her eyes.

“Tree Hill people, that’s who,” Peyton said.

Soda let out a low whistle.

“Man, that town’s got more drama than Tulsa and Dallas put together,” Soda said.

Darry shook his head. “You don’t mix business with that kind of mess. Not if you want it to stay peaceful.”

“Karen didn’t think so either,” Peyton said. “After Deb left, Karen pulled Dan aside and told him to stop agitating Lucas. Said he had no right to bring up that custody stuff after all this time.”

Steve frowned. “Custody stuff?”

“Dan told Lucas he wanted joint custody when he was born,” Jake said. “Karen never told Keith. That’s why Keith’s been all distant lately. Found out she kept that from him.”

The room went quiet again. The words joint custody hung in the air like something sour. We all knew that but, it just got more ugly after the confrontation.

“That guy’s poison,” Dally muttered. “Every time he opens his mouth, he ruins somebody’s life.”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “But people keep lettin’ him.”

Everyone looked at me for a second, and I shrugged, feeling my face heat up. I didn’t mean to say it out loud. But it was true. Dan Scott had that way about him, like he could twist anything and make you doubt what was right.

Cherry nudged me gently, her shoulder brushing mine.

“You’re not wrong,” Cherry murmured, just for me. I smiled back, the room fading for a second to just her and me, before Darry’s voice pulled us back.

“Alright,” Darry said, getting up. “Long day for everybody. Let’s get some rest. Jake, you sure you’re okay with Jenny tonight?”

Jake nodded.

“Yeah,” Jake said. “Peyton’s gonna stay over for a bit. Just until I’m sure Nikki doesn’t try anything else.”

Brooke groaned.

“I’ll stick around too,” Brooke said. “Just to make sure you two don’t end up another Tree Hill scandal.”

Two-Bit laughed.

“Kid’s not even old enough for kindergarten and already got more drama than us,” Two-Bit said.

Jake gave him a look that somehow managed to be amused and exhausted at once.

“Welcome to Tree Hill,” Jake said.

When they finally left, the house felt full again, buzzing with leftover talk, laughter, and a bit of worry that didn’t quite fade.

As everyone drifted upstairs, Cherry lingered again by the door. She caught my hand, giving it a small squeeze.

“You okay?” Cherry asked.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “You?”

She smiled a little.

“Getting there,” Cherry said.

And for a moment, the chaos of Tree Hill, the fights, the secrets, the heartbreak, felt far away.

Chapter Text

Chapter 42

Soda’s POV

The gym was already echoing with the sound of sneakers squeaking on the court and basketballs hitting the polished floor when we walked in.

Lucas and Nathan were out there, running plays, with Dan standing on the sideline barking orders like a drill sergeant who’d swallowed a whistle.

“C’mon, push it!” Dan shouted. “Let’s go, let’s go! You want to win this thing or you wanna go home cryin’?”

Dan’s voice cracked against the walls, sharp and impatient. He had that glint in his eye again. the one that made you wonder if winning was about pride or punishment.

Two-Bit leaned close to me.

“Man, I thought Darry was bad when we don’t get the dishes done,” Two-Bit muttered.

I snorted, trying to hide it.

“At least Darry don’t yell like that,” I said with a smirk. “He just gives the look. That’s worse.”

Johnny, quiet like usual, sat up on the bleachers, elbows on his knees, eyes moving between Nathan and Lucas. They were working hard, too hard. Sweat was flying, and Dan kept blowing that whistle like he was trying to chase demons out of the place.

“Get up that court, Nathan!” Dan shouted. “Don’t wait for your brother to carry the ball, move your feet!”

Then he turned to Lucas.

“You think your shoulder’s fine?” Dan asked. “Prove it!”

Pony shifted beside me, frowning.

“He’s pushing them too hard,” Pony said.

“Yeah,” I said, watching Dan pace. “He’s not coaching. He’s testin’ ‘em.”

Dally, sitting in the back row with his arms crossed.

“He’s a piece of work, that one,” Dally grunted. “Makes my old parole officer look friendly.”

Cherry was on the end of the bleacher row, her red hair catching the light from the gym windows. She had her chin propped in her hand, but I could tell her eyes kept darting toward Pony every few seconds. And every time she did, he’d look away a little too fast.

I watched it, and I couldn’t help the little smirk that tugged at the corner of my mouth. Something was definitely going on there. Pony was all quiet and shifty, and Cherry had that soft smile like she knew something the rest of us didn’t. But I didn’t say a word, yet. I just leaned back, pretending not to notice, and made a mental note to tease him later.

“Curtis,” Two-Bit hissed next to me, elbowing me. “You seein’ this? The way Dan’s sweatin’ ‘em out? Somebody’s gonna drop before halftime even hits.”

I nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” I said. “But Nathan’s not backin’ down either.”

It was true, Nathan’s face was red, jaw clenched, but he was pushing harder than I’d ever seen him. Not for Dan. For himself. For Haley, maybe. Lucas matched him move for move, passing sharp, eyes locked on his brother like they were finally on the same side of something. Dan couldn’t take credit for that. That was all them.

Whitey would’ve let ‘em breathe between drills, maybe even crack a joke. Dan just stalked the sidelines, calling plays and barking corrections, the kind that tore you down instead of building you up.

At one point, Nathan went for a jump shot, missed, and Dan snapped.

“You call that form?” Dan shouted. “No wonder you’re not playin’ at my level.”

Nathan’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t say a word. Lucas picked up the rebound and made the shot clean through the net.

Dan’s face twisted, half proud, half bitter.

Two-Bit leaned forward.

“He’s enjoyin’ this too much,” Two-Bit muttered.

“Yeah,” Johnny murmured, “and not ‘cause he likes basketball.”

Cherry sighed, soft enough that I almost missed it.

“It’s like he’s coaching a grudge instead of a game,” Cherry said.

That got Pony’s attention. He turned to her, eyes meeting hers for a split second before he glanced away again. And I saw it, that flicker of something. It wasn’t just friendship, and it wasn’t just curiosity. It was that same thing I’d seen a hundred times before between two people who hadn’t figured out how to say it yet. Pony was sunk and didn’t even know it.

Dan blew the whistle again, jerking me back to the present.

“Take five!” Dan barked. “And by five, I mean three. Move!”

The team scattered to the benches, grabbing water and catching their breath. Lucas was rubbing his shoulder, the same one that’d put him on the bench months ago. Nathan clapped him on the back, and for once, Lucas didn’t shrug it off.

“Man,” Dally muttered, “if that guy were my coach, I’d take my chances gettin’ expelled.”

Johnny half-smiled.

“You almost did last time, remember?” Johnny teased.

Dally shot him a look.

“Yeah, but I didn’t get screamed at for shootin’ hoops,” Dally said.

The bell rang across the gym, practice over. The team started filing out, Dan still shouting plays after them like he couldn’t let go. Lucas and Nathan lingered, talking low. When Nathan looked up and caught sight of us on the bleachers, he gave a small wave. Pony waved back, and Cherry followed suit.

As we stood, Pony said under his breath, “I don’t get it. How can someone’s dad be that mean and still expect to be respected?”

I clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Some people think fear is respect, kid,” I said. “Dan’s one of ‘em.”

He nodded, quiet, still watching the Scotts. I could see his thoughts spinning, about family, fathers, what kind of man he’d wanna be someday.

When we filed out of the gym, the late afternoon light was spilling through the doors. Cherry walked beside Pony, their hands brushing, just barely touching before pulling apart again.

I caught it that time, and this time I didn’t hide my grin.

“You two sure you don’t need to walk on opposite sides of the hall?” I teased, loud enough for Two-Bit to snort.

Pony’s ears went red immediately.

“Shut up, Soda,” Pony muttered.

Cherry’s laugh came easy, though.

“Don’t pick on him,” Cherry said.

I raised my hands in surrender.

“Hey, I’m just observin’,” I said.

As we stepped outside, the air felt cooler, easier to breathe than the tension that had filled the gym.

Behind us, Dan’s voice still echoed faintly from the locker room, barking orders no one cared to follow anymore.

And me, I just hoped Nathan and Lucas could tune it out long enough to remember why they loved the game in the first place.

After school, it was the same split routine we’d fallen into since we’d gotten to Tree Hill. Steve and I headed down to Keith’s shop for our shift, the smell of motor oil and metal filling the air before we even got through the door. The place was busier than usual, Keith was buried under a beat-up ‘67 Camaro that looked like it hadn’t seen a tune-up since Elvis was still alive.

Keith wiped his hands on a rag and grinned at us.

“You two are just in time,” Keith said. “Thought you’d gotten lost at the gym again.”

Steve tossed him a wrench.

“Nah, just had front-row seats to Dan Scott’s motivational screaming,” Steve said.

Keith chuckled dryly.

“I heard about that,” Keith said. “That man’s idea of a pep talk could give a marine a panic attack.”

“Yeah, Lucas and Nathan looked beat to hell,” I said, leaning against the workbench. “Dan’s got them running laps like he’s tryin’ to exorcise ‘em.”

Keith sighed, sliding out from under the car.

“Whitey’s surgery can’t come fast enough,” Keith said. “The team needs a coach, not a dictator.”

I nodded, tightening a lug nut while Steve rolled out from under the next car. Keith might not have been Lucas’s real dad, but he sure knew how to care like one.

Meanwhile, at the café, the rest of the gang was putting in their hours. Dally had told me earlier that Jake Jagielski had been showing Cherry how to steam milk for lattes, which apparently made Pony jealous as hell. Two-Bit said Pony dropped a cup when Cherry laughed at one of Jake’s jokes. Johnny told me that Cherry had brushed Pony’s arm when she passed by, and Pony went red as a stoplight.
I couldn’t help but grin picturing it. Kid had it bad.

By the time Steve and I got home, the house smelled like Darry’s chili. Johnny and Two-Bit were setting the table while Pony and Cherry finished washing their hands at the sink. Dally was leaning against the counter, eating cornbread straight out of the pan.

Darry glanced up from the stove.

“You two wash up before you touch anything,” Darry said.

“Always do, boss,” Steve said, ducking away before Darry could throw the ladle at him.

Dinner was a noisy affair, like it always was. Dally cracking jokes about Cherry’s “southern charm,” Two-Bit trying to get Johnny to laugh, and Darry half-serious about everyone finishing their vegetables.
Cherry told us about the chaos at the café, and how Jake seemed distracted since the Nikki thing. Pony kept quiet most of dinner, but I noticed how he kept sneaking glances at her from across the table.
I didn’t say anything. Not yet.

After the dishes were cleared, we were still lingering around the living room when the knock came at the door.
“Got it,” I said, heading over.

Lucas stood there, looking tired, with Haley right beside him holding a binder full of notes.

“Hey,” Lucas said. “We thought we’d come by, study a little.”

“Sure thing,” I said, stepping aside. “You’re just in time for leftover chili.”

Haley smiled politely, then spotted Pony and Cherry sitting close on the couch and gave me this quick, knowing glance that I pretended not to see.

They set up at the table, but it didn’t take long before talk drifted from schoolwork to basketball, specifically, that brutal first practice with Dan.

Lucas leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I don’t know how Nathan’s holding up,” Lucas said. That practice was… something else.”

Haley frowned.

“He told me Dan was riding him pretty hard,” Haley said.

“Hard?” Lucas said, eyebrows raised. “Dan was relentless. Every play, every pass. It wasn’t coaching, it was punishment. I think he’s trying to break him down.”

Darry, sitting in the armchair with his arms folded, nodded slowly.

“That tracks,” Darry said. “Some people think you make folks stronger by tearing them down first.”

“Yeah,” Lucas said, sighing. “But Nathan’s not built like that. He needs someone to believe in him, not yell in his face.”

There was a quiet that settled in the room for a second before Lucas hesitated.

“He told me about the whole… internet thing,” Lucas said. His cheeks went red just saying it. “I mean, the, um, websites.”

Haley groaned.

“He shouldn’t be doing it,” Haley said.

“It’s probably because he wants to keep himself from pressuring you,” Lucas said gently. “It’s part of what’s going on with him. He’s just confused, I think. Trying to figure out how to be better without really knowing what that means.”

Haley looked worried.

“I just… I want to help him,” Haley said. “But he’s got Dan in his head all the time, and I don’t know how to compete with that.”

Darry’s voice softened.

“You don’t have to,” Darry said. “Just be there. That’s more than most people ever do for him.”

The room went quiet again after that. Pony and Cherry had slipped out to the porch, and I caught their silhouettes through the window, her laughing softly, him ducking his head, nervous as ever.

I had a hunch I knew exactly what was happening out there.

Meanwhile, Lucas leaned forward.

“Okay, this is gonna sound weird, but… is there something going on between Pony and Cherry?” Lucas asked.

Every head in the room turned toward him, including mine, but I tried to look surprised.

“What makes you say that?” Steve asked, feigning innocence badly.

Lucas shrugged.

“I don’t know,” Lucas said. “It’s just the way they look at each other. It’s like they’re hiding something.”

Haley grinned.

“They’re adorable if they are,” Haley said.

Dally smirked.

“They ain’t said nothin’ to us, but I wouldn’t put it past Pony,” Dally said. “He’s been actin’ all lovesick lately.”

Two-Bit laughed.

“Man’s gone quiet during jokes, and that’s the first sign,” Two-Bit said.

Johnny smiled a little.

“They’d make a good pair, though,” Johnny said.

I leaned back, arms crossed, fighting a grin.

“You’re all just now catching on?” I asked.

They all looked at me.

Darry raised an eyebrow.

“You know somethin’?” Darry asked.

I held up my hands.

“Hey, I didn’t say that,” I said. “Just… wouldn’t be surprised.”

Through the window, I saw Pony and Cherry lean in close, heads tilted, shadows moving slow, careful, like they were trying not to let the world know.

I turned back to the others, grinning to myself.

“Let’s just say,” I murmured, “Tree Hill’s about to get a little more interesting.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 43

Darry’s POV

The house was finally quiet again. Plates were stacked by the sink, homework scattered across the table, and the faint hum of the refrigerator filled the pauses in everyone’s voices. I was halfway through sorting bills when the front door banged open hard enough to rattle the frame.

Peyton stood there, red-eyed, her makeup smudged, breath caught halfway between a sob and a gasp.

“Peyton?” Soda was the first to move, crossing the room fast. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Peyton shook her head, trying to speak, but the words broke apart.

“He’s gone,” Peyton managed, voice cracking. “Jake… and Jenny. They left.”

The air thinned. Pony froze halfway off the couch, his homework forgotten. Two-Bit’s grin dropped clean off his face. Dally swore under his breath, soft but sharp.

“What do you mean, gone?” I asked, setting the papers aside and walking over.

Peyton’s hands were shaking as she tried to explain.

“A legal aide came by, said Nikki could get custody,” Peyton said. “Jake panicked. He…he couldn’t risk it. He said he had a plan, but… they’re gone. They’re on a boat. I watched them leave.”

Her voice broke completely, and before she could hide her face, Soda pulled her in, just holding her there. Johnny looked like he didn’t know what to do with his hands; he just kept glancing between her and the floor. Steve muttered something about “that’s rough,” but the words felt small next to the sound of Peyton crying.

I nodded toward the couch.

“Sit down, kid,” I said. “Take a minute.”

Peyton did, collapsing into the corner cushion like the world had tipped sideways. Pony slid down beside her, quiet and careful. Cherry followed a second later, resting a hand on Peyton’s shoulder.

“He’ll be okay,” Pony said softly. “Jake’s smart. He wouldn’t take her unless he had to.”

Peyton gave a wet laugh that didn’t sound like much of a laugh at all.

“Yeah, that’s what he said too,” Peyton said.

Two-Bit sat on the coffee table, elbows on his knees.

“Hey, if I ever gotta disappear, I want Jake Jagielski makin’ the plan,” Two-Bit said. “Dude’s slick.”

That got a ghost of a smile from her, just enough to make the room feel lighter for a second.

I caught the look Cherry gave Pony, a soft, wordless thing, and the way he looked right back, shoulders dropping a little like she was the only thing keeping him steady. It was small, but I saw it. So did Peyton. Her gaze flicked between them, even through her tears, and she blinked like she was trying to piece something together.

Soda noticed too, though I could tell he wasn’t ready to name it yet. Dally leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes flicking from Peyton to Cherry, then to Pony. He smirked once, not unkindly, and looked away.

“Hey,” Soda said gently to Peyton. “You wanna crash here tonight? You don’t gotta go home alone.”

Peyton hesitated, then nodded.

“Yeah… thanks,” Peyton said.

I went to grab a blanket from the hall closet. When I came back, she’d stopped crying, just sitting there staring at the floor. Cherry was still next to her, quiet. Pony hadn’t moved either, like he was trying to hold the silence steady.

I set the blanket around Peyton’s shoulder.

“You did what you could for him, Peyton,” I said. “Sometimes that’s all there is.”

Peyton looked up at me with tired eyes.

“Doesn’t feel like enough,” Peyton said.

“It never does,” I said.

The rest of the night moved slow, quiet talk, half-hearted jokes from Two-Bit, Johnny making tea he didn’t really know how to make, and Soda trying to convince Peyton that things had a way of working themselves out. Dally stayed back, watching, his usual edge dulled to something almost patient.

By the time everyone drifted off, Peyton on the couch, Cherry and Pony whispering near the stairs, the rest heading to their rooms, I caught one last glimpse of them. Pony leaned in close, Cherry’s hand brushing his. Just a flicker of something new.

I didn’t say a word. But I knew.

And by the way Peyton looked over her shoulder before closing her eyes, she knew too.

The morning came slow and gray, the kind that felt like the world hadn’t quite decided to wake up yet. The smell of coffee filled the kitchen before the sun even hit the curtains. I’d been up since five, same as always. Habit. Bills were spread out on the table again, but my mind wasn’t on them.

The house was quieter than usual, the kind of quiet that comes after something big. Not bad quiet. Just thoughtful. The kind that settles into people when they’re still trying to figure out how they feel.
Peyton was still asleep on the couch, wrapped in one of our old blankets. She looked young there, not the sharp-edged girl she tried to be at school, just tired and a little lost. Soda was moving quietly, trying to keep from waking her while he scrambled eggs on the stove.

“Rough night,” Soda murmured to me.

“Yeah,” I said, keeping my voice low. “But she needed somewhere to land.”

Soda nodded, glancing toward the couch.

“Jake really did what he thought was best,” Soda said.

“That’s usually how trouble starts,” I said. “Good intentions.”

Johnny and Two-Bit shuffled in next, both looking half-awake and all out of rhythm. Dally came in last, already dressed, cigarette tucked behind his ear. He gave a nod in Peyton’s direction and muttered, “Tough kid.”

“Yeah,” I said again.

Pony and Cherry came down together, not too close, but close enough that I noticed the space between them wasn’t accidental anymore. Cherry’s hair was damp, like she’d showered early, and Pony looked brighter than he had in days. The others didn’t pick up on it, but I did. They didn’t have to speak; it was written all over the way they moved near each other.

Soda caught me noticing and gave me one of those knowing grins that said, You see it too, huh? I didn’t say anything back, just sipped my coffee.

When Peyton finally woke up, she blinked at all of us, a little disoriented, then smiled faintly.

“You guys always up this early?” Peyton asked.

Two-Bit chuckled.

“Nah, just when the world ends,” Two-Bit teased.

That got Peyton to laugh, soft and broken, but it was something.

Cherry poured her some coffee without asking, and Pony handed her a plate of toast like he’d been waiting to. Small things, but I noticed them. So did Peyton. Her eyes flicked between them, thoughtful, maybe even approving.

The gang talked about the day ahead, school, work, basketball practice, but there was something heavier sitting underneath it. Jake being gone had shifted the air somehow. He’d been a reminder of quiet strength, of what it meant to care for someone no matter the cost. It hit the younger ones hard.

When Peyton left for school, Soda offered to walk her part of the way. Dally grumbled about being late, Two-Bit cracked jokes just to hear her laugh again, and Pony hung back at the door with Cherry, their hands brushing for a second before she followed the others out.

Johnny lingered by the window, watching them go. He looked thoughtful, older in that moment than he should’ve.

“You think Jake’s gonna be okay?” Johnny asked quietly.

“Yeah,” I said. “He’ll keep that kid safe. That’s what matters.”

Johnny nodded, still staring out.

“Feels weird, though,” Johnny said. “Him just gone like that.”

“People leave sometimes,” I said. “But they leave their mark too.”

Johnny thought about that, then turned back toward me.

“Guess we all do, huh?” Johnny said.

I smiled a little.

“Yeah, kid,” I said. “We all do.”

By the time I left for work, the house was empty again, the dishes done, the quiet back. But it wasn’t the same kind of quiet anymore. It felt full, like something was shifting under the surface for all of them.

Peyton would heal. Jake would find a way to start over. And as for Pony and Cherry, well, I didn’t need to ask to know what was happening there.

I’d seen that kind of spark before. And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel the need to stop it.

They’d figure it out, just like the rest of us.

By midmorning, the construction site was already baking in the heat. The kind of sticky, southern air that clung to your neck and made the sawdust stick to everything. I’d been swinging a hammer since sunup, trying to drown my thoughts in the rhythm, measure, nail, repeat, but even that couldn’t quite shake the heaviness from the last few days.

Jake and Jenny leaving. Peyton crying herself out on our couch. Pony and Cherry getting closer. It was all circling in the back of my mind like a slow, steady hum.

“Curtis, you hear what went down at the high school this morning?” A guy asked.

It was Ron, one of the older guys on the crew, built like a wall and twice as blunt. He had that tone that meant gossip was brewing.
I set my hammer down.

“Can’t say I did,” I said cautiously.

Ron grinned, the kind of grin people wear when they know they’ve got a story to tell.

“Apparently that Scott guy, the one who owns the car dealership, right?” Ron said. “Showed up at Tree Hill High today. Started some kinda scene.”

My stomach tightened.

“Dan Scott?” I asked.

“That’s the one,” Ron said, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. “Word is, he cornered some girl, the tutor. Haley James, I think her name is. Told her she was ‘manipulatin’ his son,’ and she oughta aim higher if she wanted to trade up. Then, before walkin’ off, he made some crack about a tattoo. Said, ‘nice tattoo, real classy.’”

Another guy across the scaffolding chuckled.
“Man, small towns,” The guy said. “Everyone’s got somethin’ to say.”

I didn’t laugh. My jaw clenched tight.

That poor girl, she’d just been over at the house not even two nights ago, torn up over all that mess with Nathan. She was trying to make sense of it all, trying to keep her heart steady while that man, Nathan’s own father, was out there tearing her down in front of half the school.

I slammed the next nail a little harder than I needed to. The wood cracked under it.

“You good, Curtis?” Ron asked, raising a brow.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Just need another cup of coffee.”

Truth was, I wasn’t fine. I’d seen men like Dan before, men who dressed up their cruelty in charm and power. The kind who thought they owned the air around them. But what burned most was that he was doing it to a kid, to all those kids, really. To Nathan, to Lucas, to Haley. He had this way of poisoning every good thing that tried to grow around him.

By lunchtime, everyone was talking about it, how Dan Scott’s son was on edge at practice, how Lucas looked ready to explode, how the first playoff game was tonight and tensions were through the roof.
I sat on the tailgate of the truck during break, eating a sandwich I barely tasted. The guys around me kept the chatter going, scores, rumors, how Coach Durham was out for surgery and Dan was stepping in for the game.

That part made my stomach twist even more. The thought of Dan on that court, barking orders, pushing those boys harder than necessary, it didn’t sit right.

The sound of a hammer rang from across the lot, sharp and steady. I looked out over the half-framed structure rising from the red dirt and thought about my own brothers, about keeping them safe, about how fast a good thing can break if the wrong person puts their hands on it.

If Dan Scott so much as humiliated one of those kids tonight, I’d find out about it. And when I did, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to keep my cool.

When the whistle blew at the end of the day, I wiped the sweat and grit from my arms and grabbed my flannel off the hook. The sun was starting to set, pink light glinting off the steel beams.

The guys were talking about heading straight to the gym after dinner to watch the playoff game. I figured the whole town would be there.

Tree Hill lived for its basketball team, and tonight, the lights would burn bright enough to make everyone forget for a little while about the cracks under the surface.

But as I climbed into my truck and started it up, I couldn’t help but think about Haley, the way she’d looked that night in our kitchen, trying to make sense of how to be good in a world that kept testing her.

If she showed up tonight, she’d hold her head high, because that’s who she was. But if Dan so much as looked her way again.

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.

He might be Tree Hill’s golden boy once upon a time, but I’d been around enough men like him to know what they were made of.

And if he crossed that line again…

He’d learn that some of us didn’t bow to power.

Some of us fought back.

“Let’s just say,” I murmured, “Tree Hill’s about to get a little more interesting.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 44

Two-Bit’s POV

You could feel the nerves hanging in the gym air before the game even started. The stands were packed tighter than a soda can at a bonfire, banners waving, the Ravens’ colors painted across faces and signs. Tree Hill lived for nights like this, lights hot, crowd loud, and all eyes on that polished court.

We’d claimed a row about halfway up, me wedged between Pony and Soda while Johnny leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Dally had that grin he always wore when tension got high, like he thrived on watching everyone else wind up. Darry stood at the aisle, arms folded, the proud-big-brother posture he couldn’t hide even if he wanted to. Cherry sat on Pony’s other side, hair catching the overhead lights, and every few minutes, Pony’s gaze would slip her way. The rest of us noticed. None of us said a word.

“Man,” Steve said, drumming his fingers on the rail, “you could cut this crowd with a knife.”

“Yeah,” I said, leaning in, “and Dan Scott’d probably be the first one to hand it to ya.”

Soda snorted.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Soda said.

Down on the court, Lucas and Nathan were warming up, both focused, both quiet, both wearing the same stubborn look that came from years of trying to prove something. Whitey was missing, of course, his surgery keeping him away, and rumor had it that Dan had weaseled his way into coaching in his place. The man stood on the sidelines now, crisp shirt, sharp tie, his smirk glinting under the gym lights like a knife-edge.

“Looks like the devil got himself a whistle,” Dally muttered.

The game kicked off, and the gym exploded. For the first few plays, the Ravens held strong, Nathan driving hard down the lane while Lucas set up shots from midrange. But the tension wasn’t just between teams, it was between brothers, and everyone could feel it.

Cherry leaned closer to Pony.

“They play like they’re trying to prove who’s got the bigger heart,” Cherry whispered.

“Or the bigger grudge,” Pony said back, voice low.

Darry caught the exchange, not the words, just the look, and shook his head slightly. I caught that too. Big brother instinct never shuts off.

Halfway through the second quarter, while the team huddled up, I caught pieces of gossip floating around from the bleachers behind us.

“Did you hear? Deb signed the divorce papers tonight.”

“Dan didn’t even blink, told her she looked like she was getting sentimental.”

“He actually told her about Karen, about how he was gonna leave Deb back then. Can you believe it?”

“Man,” Steve muttered, “that dude’s got ice water for blood.”

“More like gasoline,” Johnny added. “One spark and he burns everyone near him.”

Soda looked down at the court, jaw tight.

“No wonder Nathan’s a mess half the time,” Soda said. “That’s what he’s got to look up to.”

When the third quarter hit, the Ravens were down, and Dan was pacing like a man ready to explode. He barked at the players, face red, veins sharp at his neck. Lucas’s shoulder was tight again, you could see it in the way he winced, and Nathan, instead of gloating, stepped in, blocking for him, covering what Lucas couldn’t.

That’s when the crowd’s energy changed. The brothers weren’t fighting each other anymore, they were fighting for each other.

“Holy hell,” I said, grinning. “Would you look at that.”

Even Dally’s smirk softened.

“Guess miracles happen after all,” Dally said.

Cherry smiled too, and Pony, man, he was beaming. Like watching that game meant something more than basketball, like maybe it was proof that people could stop hurting each other long enough to win something together.

When the final buzzer went off, the Ravens had taken it, barely, but enough to make the gym erupt. The whole place went wild, people screaming, banners waving, the sound like thunder in our bones.
But in the chaos, I caught sight of Dan, clapping, smiling for the cameras, but his eyes weren’t proud. They were sharp, assessing, already calculating the next move. The kind of man who could turn a victory into a weapon.

We stayed after, watching the players gather at center court. Nathan and Lucas bumped shoulders, a quick, quiet show of truce. Haley rushed down from the stands to hug Nathan, and even through the noise, you could see his guard drop just a little. Maybe the kid was learning what real love looked like.

When the crowd finally started to thin, we filed out into the cool night, the air heavy with leftover adrenaline. Darry walked ahead, one hand on Soda’s shoulder, his voice low as he said something about hard work paying off, probably thinking about how far the Scotts had come.

Pony and Cherry lingered behind, walking slower, talking soft. Their hands brushed once, just a touch, but I saw the look in both their eyes.
Yeah. Something was definitely brewing there.

I shoved my hands in my jacket pocket and grinned to myself.

“Guess Tree Hill ain’t the only place where hearts are scoring big tonight,” I said.

We didn’t get home from the game till late, that kind of late where your body’s tired but your brain’s still lit up from all the noise and lights. The Curtis house was warm, windows fogged a little from the steam off Darry’s coffee pot, everyone crowding around the table like the world outside didn’t exist.

Cherry sat cross-legged on the couch, brushing some rain off her jacket. Pony sat next to her, close but not too close, both of them pretending that wasn’t on purpose. Dally had already kicked his boots off, leaning back in the chair like he owned it. Johnny was quiet, half-smiling the way he does when he’s replaying a good night in his head. Steve was still running play-by-plays of the game with Soda, both of them talking with their hands like they’d been out on the court themselves.

Then Haley showed up, hair still a little damp, cheeks pink from the cold.

“Hey,” Haley said, stepping inside, “you guys decent?”

Dally smirked.

“Barely,” Dally said.

Haley rolled her eyes and dropped into the empty chair between Soda and Darry.

“You’ll never believe the night I’ve had,” Haley said.

Darry poured her a mug of coffee without asking, he does that kind of thing, and sat across from her.

“Try us,” Darry said.

Haley gave a small laugh, but there was a shine in her eyes that wasn’t from the light.

“It started before the game… Nathan showed up at my house,” haley said. “In the rain.”

Pony straightened a little.

“Like, just showed up?” Pony asked.

“Yeah.” Haley smiled faintly. “He said he’d gone running before the game, and I guess his route just… ended up at my door.”

“Sounds deliberate,” Steve muttered, earning a light elbow from Soda.

Haley looked down at her hands.

“He said the picture of him and Peyton meant nothing to him,” Haley said. “I told him it did, that it proved he still had feelings for her. But then he told me he’d saved that picture from back when they were dating, that the webcam’s been gone for months, that I could check if I wanted.”

Dally snorted.

“That’s either guts or stupidity,” Dally said.

“Both,” Haley said softly. “But it worked. He said he should’ve deleted the photos a long time ago. That he doesn’t want Peyton, he wants me.”

There was a pause, the kind of quiet that settles when people realize something real is being said.

“Then he said his pride wanted to tell me that was it, just walk away, let me deal with being hurt,” Haley said. “But his heart told him not to. To forget his pride. To stand there in the rain until I forgave him.”

Johnny leaned back in his chair, smiling just a little.

“That’s kinda poetic for a jock,” Johnny said.

“Yeah,” Haley said with a half-laugh. “Then he said… he loved me. And that I looked hot standing out there in the rain, and he had to kiss me.”

Cherry grinned, leaning forward.

“And?” Cherry asked.

Haley’s blush said enough.

“And I told him… if he had to,” Haley said.

Soda let out a low whistle.

“Man, if that’s not the start of a movie, I don’t know what is,” Soda said.

Dally flicked his lighter open, the spark flashing.

“Kid’s learning the hard way that love ain’t clean,” Dally said. “But he’s got guts.”

Darry gave a small nod.

“Sometimes that’s all that matters,” Darry said. “Standing your ground, even when it’s raining.”

The room softened after that. The storm that had followed all of them for weeks, the breakups, the fights, the mess with Dan, the rumors, it felt like it let up just a bit. Maybe it was the glow of the victory, or maybe it was knowing that somewhere out there, Nathan and Haley had decided to stop running from each other.

Pony’s eyes met Cherry’s from across the room. It was one of those small moments, quiet but loaded. I caught it, of course. The way her lips tilted just slightly, the way his ears went pink even as he pretended to study the floorboards.

Soda caught it too. So did Darry. None of us said a thing, though. Not yet.

When Haley left, promising to come by after the championship game, the house went still again. Outside, thunder rolled distant, a leftover growl from the earlier storm, and inside, everyone just sort of existed together.

Johnny leaned his head against the back of the couch.

“You think all this is worth it?” Johnny asked. “All the mess that comes with falling for somebody?”

I shrugged, tossing a cushion at him.

“Hey, if it comes with a good story to tell, maybe it is,” I said.

Dally grinned, tired but honest.

“You’d say that,” Dally said.

I looked around the room, Darry’s quiet pride, Soda’s laughter fading to thought, Pony pretending not to hold Cherry’s hand when he thought no one was looking.

“Yeah,” I said finally, “I would.”

It was pushing close to midnight when there was another knock at the door. We’d all been winding down, Darry sitting at the table with a newspaper, Soda half-asleep on the couch, Pony and Cherry pretending not to be glued together on the armchair, and Johnny fighting to keep his eyes open against Dally’s shoulder.

Steve was the one who got up to answer it. When he swung the door open and Lucas Scott stood there, wet hair, rumpled jacket, eyes tired in that kind of way that goes past physical, I figured the night wasn’t done with us yet.

“Hey,” Lucas said.

“Hey yourself,” Soda answered, sitting up. “You look like you been hit by a bus, man.”

Lucas gave a breath of a laugh.

“Not quite,” Lucas said. “Mind if I come in?”

“Sure,” Darry said, motioning him inside. “Coffee’s still warm.”

Lucas shook his head.

“Thanks, but I don’t think I could handle anything that’d keep me up right now,” Lucas said.

He dropped down into one of the kitchen chairs, elbows on his knees, the weight of the whole damn day sitting on him.

None of us said much, you learn not to push when somebody’s carrying something big.

“I saw Dan before the game,” Lucas said.

That woke everybody up a little. Pony leaned forward.

“At the dealership?” Pony asked.

Lucas nodded.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “I stopped by his office. I told him I talked to my mom. I told him…” He hesitated, swallowing. “I told him I guess I’m sorry. For resenting him. For not wanting to be in my life. I didn’t know he wanted custody back then. I didn’t know he tried.”

Cherry frowned softly.

“That was brave of you, telling him that,” Cherry said.”

“Yeah,” Lucas said, smiling a little but not really. “I also told him I never said thank you. For saving me after the accident.”

We all went still for a second.

That word, accident, still hit like a bruise. Pony rubbed his wrist without meaning to, eyes flicking toward the window like the memory of headlights still lingered there.

“What’d he say?” Darry asked.

Lucas’s mouth pulled tight.

“He told me I should be on the floor already for practice,” Lucas said. “Said to go run twenty wind sprints.”

Steve snorted.

“Guy’s got a real talent for ruining a decent moment,” Steve muttered.

Lucas let out a laugh, quick and humorless.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “So I just walked out. Didn’t say anything else.”

Dally cracked his knuckles.

“I’d’ve said something,” Dally said. “Probably with my fist.”

“Wouldn’t change him,” Darry said quietly. “Some men are too set in who they are.”

“Yeah,” Lucas said again, leaning back. “Guess so.”

There was a quiet that came after that. The TV hummed low in the background, showing highlights from the game, the announcers saying words like resilience and triumph. But all of us sat there in the kitchen, feeling the kind of silence that comes when someone’s trying to understand where they come from.

Pony broke it first.

“You did the right thing, Luke,” Pony said. “Even if he didn’t see it.”

Lucas smiled faintly.

“Thanks, Pony,” Lucas said.

Cherry reached over to rest a hand on Pony’s arm, the move small but steady. It didn’t go unnoticed, Darry caught it, Soda did too, but neither said a word. For once, the quiet felt kind.
Johnny looked between them all, voice low but certain.

“Sometimes people like Dan… they don’t know how to take forgiveness,” Johnny said. “It’s like it burns.”

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “Guess that’s why the rest of us are here. To hand out the bandages after.”

Lucas gave a soft laugh. “Guess so.”

We sat there a little longer, just letting the air settle around us. Darry finally got up and poured another round of coffee, this time nobody turned it down. Cherry leaned her head on Pony’s shoulder; Dally nudged Johnny awake with a grin. The house felt heavier and softer all at once.

When Lucas stood to leave, Soda clapped him on the back.

“You did good, man,” Soda said. “Even if he didn’t deserve it.”
Lucas smiled tiredly.

“Maybe that’s the point,” Lucas said.

As the door closed behind him, I couldn’t help thinking how strange it was, how folks could spend their whole lives trying to figure out what family means. For us Tulsa boys, it was all we had. For Lucas, it was all he’d been missing. And maybe that’s why we understood him better than most.

Chapter Text

Chapter 45

Steve’s POV

The hospital smelled like every other hospital I’d ever been in, bleach and bad coffee. Only this time, it wasn’t some broken bone or street fight that brought us here. It was Whitey Durham. The man who’d been like a father to half this town, now laid up with a bandage around his head and sunglasses still on even under the fluorescent lights.

Lucas led the way down the hall, his steps quiet, like he was trying to walk off the weight sitting on his chest. Keith followed behind him, hands in his jacket pockets. The rest of us, me, Soda, Pony, Johnny, Two-Bit, Dally, Cherry, and even Darry, who’d come straight from the construction site, hung back just enough to give them space.

Whitey looked smaller in that bed, but when he heard the knock and turned his head, there was still that spark in his voice.

“Well, I’ll be damned,”Whiteyhe rasped. “The Ravens in my room instead of the scoreboard. The world really must be ending.”

Lucas tried to smile.

“Hey, Coach,” Lucas said.

Whitey tilted his head toward him.

“You boys lose me that game?” Whitey asked.

Lucas shifted, his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “We did.”

Whitey nodded, his grin faint.

“Figures,” Whitey said. “I knew I couldn’t leave you knuckleheads alone for one game.”

Two-Bit chuckled quietly, arms crossed over his chest.

“Guess they need your eye more than they thought, Coach,” Two-Bit said.

Whitey let out a rough laugh.

“You don’t say,” Whitey said with a small smile.

There was a pause, one of those heavy silences that hangs between people who care too much to fill it with noise. Lucas looked down at the tile, then back at Whitey.

“The doctor said your eye…” Lucas started.

Whitey cut him off, waving a hand.

“The doc says it’s a little more complicated than we hoped,” Whitey said. He shrugged like it didn’t matter, but even I could tell it did. “We’ll see how it goes.”

Lucas’s voice got softer.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Lucas asked.

Whitey smiled that crooked old smile.

“We’ll see, son,” Whitey said. “I’m not done raisin’ hell yet.”

That got a small laugh from Dally, leaning against the wall.

“Knew you wouldn’t be, Coach,” Dally said.

Whitey’s eyes moved toward him, and even behind those dark glasses, I swear he could see Dally clear as day.

“Don’t you go soft on me either, kid,” Whitey said.

Lucas stepped closer to the bed.

“Coach… I wanted to tell you… I appreciate everything you did for me,” Lucas said. “I owe you.”

Whitey shook his head.

“You don’t owe me a damn thing, son,” Whitey said. “You just play hard, live right, and keep that heart of yours steady. That’s all I ever wanted from any of you.”

Lucas cleared his throat.

“I’m heading down to Charleston with Keith,” Lucas said nervously. “He got that job offer.”

Whitey nodded.

“Yeah,” Whitey said. “Heard about that.” His voice softened. “You make sure to take care of each other, you hear? You two need each other more than you think.”

Lucas smiled faintly.

“I promise,” Lucas said.

The rest of us hung back while they said their goodbyes. Soda had his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, eyes down. Pony kept looking between Whitey and Lucas, like he was seeing the kind of respect that never had to be said out loud. Cherry’s hand brushed his when she thought nobody was looking, and I caught the flicker of a smile that said maybe life in Tree Hill wasn’t all bad.

When we left the hospital, the night air was cold but clean, the kind that made you breathe a little deeper just to remind yourself you’re still here.

Johnny shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Kinda makes you think, huh?” Johnny said.

“Yeah,” I said, glancing at Lucas ahead of us. “About how fast things change.”

Soda kicked a pebble down the sidewalk, watching it bounce ahead of us.

“Whitey’ll pull through,” Soda said. “He’s tougher than any of us.”

“Damn right,” Dally muttered. “Old man’s got more fight in him than half the Ravens combined.”

Cherry looked at Pony, her eyes soft.

“You guys have been through a lot here, huh?” Cherry said.

Pony gave a little shrug.

“Guess that’s life in Tree Hill,” Pony said.

And somehow, with the wind off the river and the sound of sneakers scuffing pavement, I believed him.

It was late when the knock came at the door, too late for good news.

The gang was scattered around the living room, half-drowsy, half-wired from the game’s chaos and Whitey’s hospital visit. Soda and I were tossing a ball back and forth, something to keep the energy steady. Pony and Cherry were on the couch, quietly laughing at Two-Bit’s bad impression of Whitey’s pep talks. Dally was leaning against the wall near the window, cigarette dangling between his fingers, and Johnny sat cross-legged on the floor by the record player, spinning through a stack of old Springsteen.

Darry opened the doo, and there was Keith Scott, looking like he’d aged five years in one day. His shirt was wrinkled, hair out of place, and that calm older-brother look he usually wore was gone.
“Hey, Keith,” Darry said, letting him in. “Rough day?”

Keith let out a hollow laugh.

“You could say that,” Keith said.

Soda sat up straight.

“Everything alright?” Soda asked. “You look like you just went ten rounds with fate.”

Keith rubbed the back of his neck, sighing.

“Dan… caught me and Deb sleeping together,” Keith said.

That silenced the whole room.

Johnny blinked.

“Wait, Deb as in Dan’s wife, Deb?” Johnny asked.

“Ex-wife,” Keith corrected quietly. “Or soon to be. Guess it doesn’t make it sound any better, though.”

Two-Bit gave a low whistle.

“Man, that’s… wow,” Two-Bit said.

Keith shook his head.

“Yeah,” Keith said. “Trust me, I’ve replayed that moment enough times for all of us.”

He looked at Soda and me then.

“I wanted to stop by before I head out tomorrow,” Keith said. “Say thank you, and goodbye. You boys are gonna be running Keith’s Auto for me now. Promoted you both to managers.”
Soda’s jaw dropped.

“Wait, you’re serious?” Soda said.

Keith smiled, just a little.

“Dead serious,” Keith said. “You earned it. You and Steve both. I trust you to keep it running right.”

I felt my throat tighten, a weird mix of pride and sadness sitting heavy in my chest.

“We won’t let you down, Keith,” I said.

Keith gave me a pat on the shoulder.

“I know you won’t,” Keith said.

Before we could say much else, another knock came. This time, it was Brooke Davis, heels clicking on the porch, face flushed with the kind of anger only heartbreak and tequila can bring.

“Brooke?” Pony asked, surprised. “Everything okay?”

Brooke stormed in, throwing her hands in the air.

“That psycho Nikki showed up at the bar tonight,” Brooke said. “She was asking about Jake, and I…” She laughed bitterly. “I told her he moved to Seattle. And the worst part? She bought it!”

Dally raised a brow.

“You serious?” Dally said. “She’s really headin’ to Seattle?”

“Yeah.” Brooke folded her arms, looking tired. “Guess she’s chasing ghosts now.”

Johnny looked up from the floor.

“Sometimes ghosts are all people got left,” Johnny said.

Before anyone could answer, there was one more knock at the door, this time softer. And we all knew before Darry even opened it that it’d be Lucas.

Lucas stepped inside, backpack slung over one shoulder, eyes shadowed but clear.

“Hey,” Lucas said quietly. “Didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

Soda stood first, clapping him on the back.

“You sure about Charleston, man?” Soda asked.

Lucas nodded.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “It’s time.”

Pony frowned.

“You’ll visit though, right?” Pony asked.

“Of course.” Lucas smiled faintly. “And… I left some things for you guys.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a few folded envelopes. “Letters. For when I’m gone.”

Darry took his with a nod, eyes a little too glassy for his usual composure.

“You’re doin’ the right thing, kid,” Darry said.

Lucas’s smile wavered.

“I hope so,” Lucas said.

Lucas said his goodbyes, one by one. Two-Bit cracked a joke that made Lucas laugh for real. Dally gripped his shoulder with quiet respect. Cherry wished him luck. Pony hugged him longer than he meant to, and Soda just told him to drive safe.

When the door shut behind him, the house went still. None of us knew what to say.

Outside, we heard Keith’s engine rumble as he pulled out of the driveway for the last time.

The next moments didn’t belong to words, they belonged to everything happening at once.

A montage, like the ones that mark the end of something you don’t realize you’ll miss until it’s gone.

Lucas’s empty room: Karen sat on the edge of his bed, tears sliding down her face as she held one of his old basketballs. The sound of a car starting outside echoed faintly through the open window.

The dealership office: Dan Scott stood alone under harsh fluorescent light, divorce papers in one hand, pen in the other. His face was pale. He signed his name with a shaky hand, set the pen down, and suddenly, his chest seized. The papers scattered to the floor as he collapsed.

Deb: Her face froze in horror as she burst through the door moments later, kneeling beside him.

“Dan!” Deb cried, shaking him. “Oh my God, somebody help!”

Whitey’s hospital room: The old coach sat in bed, a doctor reading off test results beside him. His expression was unreadable, halfway between resignation and courage. He turned to the window, watching the rain fall.

A highway outside Tree Hill: Nikki drove fast, the city lights fading behind her. The camera caught the determination in her eyes, Seattle-bound, chasing a lie.

Karen’s Café: The lights dimmed as the sign flipped to Closed. Karen looked up at a framed photo of Lucas on the wall and smiled sadly.

“Be safe, baby,” Karen whispered.

A quiet bedroom: Haley’s room. She lay curled beside Nathan. Their hands intertwined, matching wedding rings glinting faintly under the lamp. They were asleep, peaceful, unaware of the storm ahead.
The Curtis House: The gang sat together in the living room, quiet. Soda had an arm around Pony, who stared out the window. Cherry’s hand brushed his gently. Dally flicked his lighter but didn’t smoke. Johnny leaned on Two-Bit’s shoulder. Darry looked around the room, pride and worry mixing behind his steady eyes.

The night ended with the faint sound of a car engine fading into the distance, Keith and Lucas, driving toward Charleston, toward whatever came next.

I watched them go from the window and thought about how strange it felt to stay behind, how even when a chapter closes, the story doesn’t stop. It just waits for the next morning.

And in Tree Hill, there was always a next morning.

Chapter Text

Chapter 46

Dally’s POV

The news about Dan Scott’s heart attack hit Tree Hill faster than a bar fight rumor back in Tulsa. By the time the sun came up, half the town had already been whisperin’. You couldn’t grab coffee without someone talkin’ about how the guy who thought he was bulletproof had dropped in his own office.

At the Curtis house, things were quieter than usual. Everyone was sittin’ around the table, Soda with his OJ, Pony half-awake over his cereal, Johnny and Two-Bit crackin’ jokes just to fill the silence. Cherry was there too, leanin’ against the counter with her hair still damp from a shower, her eyes flickin’ toward Pony every few seconds when she thought nobody noticed.

I noticed.

Darry came in from work, still wearin’ his tool belt, radio buzzin’ on his hip. He shut it off and dropped into a chair.

“Dan Scott’s in the hospital,” Darry said quietly. “Collapsed last night. Heart attack.”

Soda blinked.

“Man… that’s rough,” Soda said.

“Rough?” Steve snorted. “Guy’s been raisin’ hell since we got here. Guess karma works fast in Tree Hill.”

“Watch it,” Darry warned, voice low. “Doesn’t matter what kind of man he was, that’s someone’s father. Nathan’s.”

Pony frowned, stirring his cereal.

“I bet Lucas feels weird about it too,” Lucas said softly. “Even if he pretends not to.”

Two-Bit sighed.

“Only in Tree Hill could a guy’s heart attack start more drama than a gang fight,” Two-Bit said.

Everyone chuckled, but it died quick. I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed, thinkin’. Back home, I’d seen tough guys fall, bullets, bottles, bad luck, but this? This was different. A man finally hittin’ the wall he built himself. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe he didn’t. Either way, the town was gonna talk.

By the afternoon, word was that Dan had made it through the night, but barely. Karen kept the café closed that morning outta respect, though she admitted under her breath that Deb hadn’t left the hospital since it happened. Lucas and Keith were already settlin’ into Charleston, callin’ every few hours to check in, though Lucas sounded more guilty than worried.

The rest of us stopped by the café after work. Soda wiped his hands on a rag, still smellin’ like motor oil; Steve was right behind him. Pony and Cherry came in together, shoulder-to-shoulder, tryin’ to play it casual, but the way his ears turned red when she laughed? Yeah. I wasn’t born yesterday.

Karen looked up from behind the counter.

“Hey, boys,” Karen said. “Heard from Charleston yet?”

“Lucas called,” Pony said. “He said Whitey’s doin’ okay after his surgery. Keith’s takin’ care of him.”

Karen smiled faintly.

“That sounds like Keith,” Karen said softly. Then, glancin’ at the rest of us, “And Dan?”

“Still alive,” I said flatly. “Guess the devil didn’t want him yet.”

“Dallas,” Karen warned, but her eyes said she wasn’t entirely disagreein’.

Cherry perched beside Pony at the counter.

“Heard people sayin’ Nathan and Deb hasn’t left his side,” Cherry murmured. “Must be hard, even after everything.”

Pony nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” he said. “I think he’s tryin’ to be better.”

Soda slung an arm over Pony’s shoulder, smilin’.

“That’s all anyone can do, right?” Soda said. “Try to be better.”

I glanced between them, Pony’s soft grin, Cherry’s hand sneakin’ closer to his on the counter. It hit me then. They weren’t just flirtin’. They were together.

Later that night, back at the house, the truth came out.

We were loungin’ in the living room, me sprawled across the couch, Johnny and Two-Bit on the floor playin’ cards, Soda and Steve goofin’ around with the radio, when Cherry and Pony walked in. Both looked nervous as hell, like they’d rehearsed whatever was comin’.

“Uh,” Pony started, rubbing the back of his neck, “we, uh, wanted to tell you guys somethin’.”

Two-Bit grinned.

“Oh boy, here it comes,” Two-Bit said. “You eloped too?”

“Shut up,” Cherry said, blushin’ but smilin’. Then she looked at Darry. “We’re, uh… dating. Figured you should hear it from us.”

The room went dead quiet for a beat. Then Soda let out a whistle.

“Well, hell,” Soda said, grinnin’. “’Bout time!”

Johnny’s smile was shy but genuine.

“Guess I saw that comin’,” Johnny said softly.
Steve clapped Pony on the back.

“Congrats, lover boy,” Steve teased.

Darry leaned back, arms crossed, expression unreadable. For a second, I thought he was gonna lecture them, but instead he just sighed.

“As long as you treat each other right,” Darry said calmly. “Tree Hill’s been good for both of you. Don’t make me regret it.”
Pony nodded fast.

“Promise,” Pony said.

Cherry smiled at him, the kind of smile that could make a guy believe in things again. Even I felt it.

Two-Bit pretended to gag.

“Great, now we gotta deal with lovebirds at breakfast,” Two-Bit said.

Soda threw a cushion at him.

“Shut up, Keith,” Soda said, but he was laughing.

I just watched ’em all, smirkin’ a little. Guess this town was changin’ us, one way or another. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

The next morning, Karen’s café was busy again. Haley was waitin’ tables, glowin’ in that newly-married kinda way, though nobody was sayin’ it out loud yet. Nathan came in halfway through breakfast, dark circles under his eyes, still in the same clothes from the hospital. Haley went straight to him, worry and love all tangled up in her face.

The rest of us sat in the corner booth, watchin’. Even Pony got quiet.

Nathan thanked Haley for stickin’ around. Said his dad’d pulled through but wasn’t the same, that maybe none of ’em were. Then he saw Lucas’s old seat across the café, empty now, and something in him softened.

“Tree Hill’s changin’,” Soda said quietly.

“Yeah,” I muttered, takin’ a drag off my cigarette before flickin’ it out the door. “Guess we all are.”

Outside, the sun hit the windows just right, glintin’ off the river in the distance. Dan Scott was fightin’ for his life, Lucas and Keith were startin’ over, and the rest of us? We were somewhere in between, not the punks from Tulsa anymore, not quite locals either.

But lookin’ at Pony and Cherry steal a quick glance across the table, I figured maybe fresh starts weren’t just for the Scotts.

The word about Cherry and Pony spread through Tree Hill faster than a fight rumor back home in Tulsa. By the next morning, half the school knew, and by noon, Karen’s Café knew too. Pony and Cherry tried to play it cool, sittin’ across from each other, actin’ like nothin’ was goin’ on. But the way she looked at him between sips of coffee, and the way he couldn’t stop smilin’ when she laughed, yeah, there wasn’t any hidin’ it now.

Two-Bit and Steve had a field day.

“Curtis, you better start practicin’ those apology flowers now,” Steve said, grinnin.’

“Yeah, and get used to carryin’ her books,” Two-Bit added. “Every day. That’s love, man.”

Pony groaned, red to his ears, while Cherry just laughed and flicked her straw wrapper at Two-Bit.

Darry, of course, just watched the whole thing with that quiet, older-brother smirk that said he was proud and terrified at the same time.

“As long as you both keep your heads on straight,” Darry said once, in that calm tone that stopped the teasing cold.

Meanwhile, around town, people were talkin’ about somethin’ else entirely, Nathan and Haley.

Only difference was, they weren’t ready to tell anyone what was really goin’ on.

That night, after the café closed, we stopped by Haley’s place. Nathan was already there, sittin’ on her couch with his arm around her like it was the most natural thing in the world. Haley looked nervous, fingers twistin’ in her lap.

“I don’t know how to tell people,” Haley admitted, eyes dartin’ to Nathan. “Your dad hated that we were even dating, Nathan. What’s he gonna say when he finds out we’re married?”

Nathan gave her that easy half-smile he always had when he was tryin’ to calm her down.

“He’s not gonna say anything, Hales,” Nathan said. “Because it doesn’t matter what he thinks. It’s us now.”

Soda grinned.

“Man, you two are like somethin’ outta one of those soap operas Cherry watches,” Soda teased.

Cherry elbowed him.

“Hey!” Cherry said. “It’s romantic.”

Pony smiled shyly at that, maybe seein’ a little of himself and Cherry in Nathan and Haley. I could tell Darry saw it too. He leaned against the doorway, quiet but soft-eyed.

“Marriage ain’t easy,” Darry said finally. “But if you both mean it, then it’s worth fightin’ for.”

Haley smiled faintly, and Nathan nodded.

“Yeah,” Nathan said. “Guess I got some fight left in me.”

Out by the docks that same afternoon, Brooke and Peyton had their own kind of escape.

They’d borrowed a small boat, nothin’ fancy, but it caught the sun on the water. From the pier, I could see ‘em out there, laughin’ and yellin’ at each other over the hum of the motor, hair blowin’ in the wind. The gang watched from the railing: me, Johnny, Two-Bit, and Soda with Cherry sittin’ on the hood of Darry’s truck.

“Guess they’re patchin’ things up,” Pony said, leanin’ against Cherry’s knee.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “After the year they’ve had, they need it.”

Two-Bit raised his soda can in a mock toast.

“To crazy girls in boats,” Two-Bit said. “May they never find the brake.”

We all cracked up, even Johnny, who didn’t laugh much anymore.

Meanwhile, down in Charleston, life was quieter. Lucas called that night, the phone passed around the table.

He said Keith was finally startin’ to unpack, cookin’ meals, buyin’ furniture, tryin’ to make the place a home. But Lucas sounded restless. Then came the part that made the room go still.

“Dan had a heart attack,” Lucas said. “They called Keith this afternoon.”

Nobody said a word for a second. Soda ran a hand through his hair.

“Man…” Soda said.

Pony frowned.

“Do they think he’s gonna be okay?” Pony asked.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “But he’s not the same. Mom said he’s been quiet, like it finally hit him that he’s not untouchable.”

Darry exhaled slowly.

“Sometimes that’s what it takes,” Darry said. “Doesn’t mean it’s fair. Just how life works.”

I stayed quiet. Guys like Dan, the ones who thought they could buy their way through everything, they didn’t know what it was to lose somethin’ for real until it was almost gone. I’d seen that look before in the mirror after Johnny’s burns, after Pony almost died. It changes a man. Sometimes too late.

Karen visited Whitey at the hospital that same day. Cherry told us later, she’d been waitin’ tables when Karen left, lookin’ pale but steady. Whitey had told her he wasn’t done coachin’, no matter what the doctors said.

“Tree Hill needs someone stubborn,” Whitey joked, “and I’ve got nothin’ but time.”

Karen smiled when she came back, the first genuine one in days. Soda said it was the kind of smile that meant she believed things could still turn out all right.

That night, the house was alive again. Dinner smells, old jokes, Two-Bit’s cards spread across the table. But underneath the noise, I felt it, the shift.

Tree Hill was changin’.

Dan Scott was in recovery.

Lucas and Keith were gone, startin’ over.

Haley and Nathan were married and tryin’ to hide it.

And Pony and Cherry…well, they were just startin’ somethin’ new too.

Soda looked around the table, fork halfway to his mouth.

“You ever think we’d end up here?” Soda asked.

Darry smiled a little.

“No,” Darry said. “But I’m not complainin’.”

Johnny leaned back, eyes soft.

“Me neither,” Johnny murmured.

I didn’t say nothin’, just smirked and took another swig of Coke. Because deep down, even I could feel it… for the first time in a long time, none of us were just tryin’ to survive anymore.

We were learnin’ how to live.

Chapter Text

Chapter 47

Johnny’s POV

The late morning sun cut gold over the docks, painting the water in ripples of glass and fire. The breeze carried that mix of salt, fuel, and sunscreen, the kind that clung to the air around the boats bobbing like lazy thoughts in the current.

Peyton and Brooke were stretched out across the deck of the small yacht, legs glinting with suntan oil, sunglasses shading whatever they weren’t ready to say. You could tell they were trying to make the silence look easy. But silence between them wasn’t easy anymore.

I leaned against the railing beside Two-Bit and Dally, watching from the pier while Pony and Cherry climbed up the dock ramp with sodas in hand. Cherry slipped her hand into Pony’s, not even thinking twice about it. That simple. That natural.

Two-Bit grinned, bumping Dally with his elbow.

“Well, look at that,” Two-Bit said. “Kid didn’t waste no time makin’ it official.”

Dally smirked.

“About time someone around here got a win,” Dally said.

Pony heard him and rolled his eyes.

“You all are impossible,” Pony said.

Cherry blushed, squeezing his hand tighter.

“Guess the secret’s out,” Cherry said softly.

Soda threw an arm around Pony’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep it classy,” Soda said. “We’ll only tease you… twice a day, maybe three.”

Johnny couldn’t help but laugh, it felt good hearing something light again. After weeks of heavy talk, Dan’s heart attack, the tension around Nathan and Haley, this was something that sounded like life again.

Up on the yacht, Brooke raised her sunglasses, glancing over the side.

“Are we gonna talk about the adorable handholding, or pretend we didn’t see it?” Brooke asked.

Peyton smirked, shifting her head on the towel.

“Let ‘em live, Brooke,” Peyton said. “Not everything’s a headline.”

Brooke sighed dramatically.

“Fine,” Brooke said. “But for the record, it’s cute. Like, disgustingly cute.”

Cherry laughed, resting her chin on Pony’s shoulder.

“Guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” Cherry said.

The breeze softened around them, and for a moment, everything felt simple, sunlight, laughter, the sound of seagulls squabbling somewhere down the dock.

Then Peyton spoke again, voice quieter, staring out at the horizon.

“You ever think about what happens next?” Peyton asked. “After all this… after high school?”

Brooke didn’t answer right away.

“All the time,” Brooke admitted. “I mean, part of me wants to run away. The other part wants to… actually stay and figure things out.”

Peyton sat up, pulling her knees close.

“And the missing part?” Peyton asked.

Brooke’s smile faded.

“You mean Lucas?” Brooke asked.

The name hung there like a wave about to break.

“Yeah,” Peyton said softly. “I just…I miss him. Even with everything that happened… I still miss him.”

Cherry glanced at Pony, who caught the look and nodded, a quiet understanding. He knew what it was like to miss someone that deeply. They all did.

Brooke sighed, tugging at her towel.

“He’ll be back,” Brooke said. “They always come back, right?”

But the way she said it didn’t sound like she believed it.

Soda leaned closer to me.

“They’re all a mess, huh?” Soda said.

“Yeah,” I said, half-smiling. “But at least they’re honest about it.”

Brooke laid back again, letting the sun hit her face.

“You ever think about what happens if we don’t get it all back?” Brooke asked. “The way things were before?”

Peyton didn’t answer. She just reached for Brooke’s hand, and Brooke let her. No words, no promises, just the sound of the water and the low hum of the world still moving forward.

The rest of us stood there, quiet, watching the tide roll in.

Maybe that’s what life was for us, trying to hold steady in the in-betweens, learning how to stay afloat after everything changes.

The afternoon sun hung low now, soft and gold across the water, making everything shimmer like the world had been dipped in light. The boat rocked gently, the hum of waves hitting its sides steady as breathing. Peyton and Brooke climbed the little ladder back onto the deck, towels slung over their shoulders, hair dripping, laughing like they were trying to shake off something heavier than seawater.
Brooke flopped down onto her towel, wringing the ends of her hair out.

“You know,” Brooke said, catching her breath, “for a second there, I thought you were actually gonna let me drown.”

Peyton rolled her eyes, toweling off.

“You’re the one who cannonballed right into my lane,” Peyton said.

“Yeah, but you pushed me first,” Brooke said.

The two of them laughed, not the loud kind, but the one that sounded like they were remembering how to be friends again.

Up on the pier, the rest of us watched, me, Soda, Pony, Cherry, Two-Bit, Dally, and Steve. Darry had stayed back at work, but the rest of us figured we’d swing by the marina and hang around. Pony had his arm around Cherry’s shoulders now, casual but sure, and no one said anything. It was normal now. Even Dally just smirked.

“Told you the secret wouldn’t last a day,” Dally muttered.

Cherry smiled at that.

“Guess we weren’t trying too hard to hide it,” Cherry said.

“Good,” Soda said, hands stuffed in his pockets. “It’s about time one of us had something good going.”

Brooke and Peyton spread their towels out again, lying down side by side. The silence stretched a little too long this time, heavy with everything unspoken. Then Brooke spoke, her voice quieter than before.

“You know, it’s not about that he left,” Brooke said, eyes fixed on the sky. “It’s about how he left. He didn’t say goodbye. Not to me. Not even a note.”

The sound of the waves filled in the space after she said it. Peyton’s towel rustled as she sat up slowly, biting her lip like she’d been holding something in for too long.

“Brooke…” Peyton said. “He did leave something.”

Brooke blinked, turning her head.

“What do you mean?” Brooke asked.

Peyton hesitated, then reached into her tote bag, pulling out a crumpled folded paper.

“He left this on my front door the morning after he left town,” Peyton said. “I… I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make it worse.”

She handed it over, and Brooke took it with shaking fingers. She unfolded the note slowly, her eyes scanning the words, the way Lucas had written them, the apologies, the explanations, the pieces of him trying to say goodbye the only way he knew how.

Brooke’s jaw tightened.

“You had this the whole time?” Brooke asked angrily.

“I’m sorry,” Peyton said. “I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Brooke stood up so fast her towel slid to the deck.

“You didn’t know how to tell me?” Brooke asked. “You’ve had this for weeks, Peyton!”

“Brooke, I didn’t mean…”

“Save it!” Brooke snapped, the wind catching her voice and throwing it back at her. “You knew how much this messed me up. You knew how bad it hurt. And you let me believe he just, left. Like none of it mattered.”

Peyton’s voice cracked when she spoke again.

“It wasn’t like that,” Peyton said. “I was trying to protect you.”

Brooke let out a bitter laugh.

“From what?” Brooke asked. “The truth?”

Up on the pier, Cherry winced, leaning a little closer to Pony.

“This feels… personal,” Cherry said.

Pony nodded, quiet.

“Yeah,” Pony said. “It is.”

Two-Bit sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Man, Tree Hill drama makes Tulsa look peaceful,” Two-Bit muttered.

“Not wrong,” Steve muttered.

Down on the deck, Peyton reached out like she wanted to bridge the gap, but Brooke stepped back. Her sunglasses were on again, not to block the sun, but to hide whatever she didn’t want anyone to see.

“Just… don’t, Peyton,” Brooke said softly. “You don’t get to say sorry and make it okay.”

Brooke grabbed her bag, tossed it over her shoulder, and climbed off the boat, walking down the dock. Peyton just stood there, watching her go, the note still fluttering in Brooke’s hand like it didn’t know where it belonged anymore.

For a while, nobody said anything. The waves lapped against the pier, the sound almost too calm for what had just happened.

Dally let out a low whistle.

“Hell of a goodbye,” Dally said finally.

Soda nodded slowly.

“That’s the thing about this town,” Soda said. “Even when people leave… they don’t really go anywhere.”

I knew he was thinking about Sandy and how she left.

I looked down the dock where Brooke had disappeared, then back at Peyton, who stood alone on the boat, her towel slipping off her shoulder. The sun was setting behind her, turning her hair into gold fire. She looked lost, not because Lucas had left, but because she didn’t know how to stop losing people.

And maybe that was all any of us were doing, trying to hold on long enough not to drift apart.

The hospital always had this way of swallowing up sound. The kind of quiet that felt heavy, like every breath got caught in the walls before it could escape. We’d followed Nathan and Haley there after they told us they were going, something about wanting to talk to Deb and Dan together, to finally tell them about the marriage.

Soda said it was probably better they had backup. Dally said it was definitely better, because “Scott family drama’s like poking a bear.” So, we all went, me, Pony, Cherry, Two-Bit, Steve, and Soda. Darry said he’d meet us there after his shift.

By the time we got there, Deb was sitting alone in the hospital chapel. The kind of light that filtered through stained glass windows made everything look softer than it really was. She was sitting in the front pew, staring at the candles, hands shaking a little. Nathan and Haley stepped in first, she looked so nervous, clutching his hand like she wasn’t sure if she should even breathe.

“Mom?” Nathan said quietly.

Deb turned, eyes a little red, but she smiled when she saw them.

“Hey,” Deb said. “What are you two doing here?”

Haley hesitated.

“We… we wanted to tell you something,” Haley said.

The rest of us hung back in the doorway, half-hidden, but close enough to see the look on Deb’s face change, the kind that flickers between happy, scared, and something that doesn’t have a name.

Nathan cleared his throat.

“We got married,” Nathan said simply. “A few weeks ago.”

Deb blinked like she hadn’t heard him right.

“You…” Deb started, her voice catching. “You got married?”

Haley nodded.

“It…it wasn’t planned like this, but we love each other,” Haley said.

The words echoed in the chapel. Even Dally, who usually had something smart to say, stayed quiet. Cherry slid her hand into Pony’s, her thumb brushing over his knuckles, a small, steady kind of gesture that made me glance away. Everyone had their own version of young and reckless, I guessed.

Deb stood slowly, pressing her hand to her mouth.

“Nathan… you’re just kids,” Deb whispered. “You don’t understand what you’re doing…”

“Mom,” Nathan interrupted softly, “I know what I’m doing. I love her.”

Deb shook her head, tears already spilling.

“You don’t know what love is yet,” Deb said. “You don’t know what marriage costs. You haven’t even…” She stopped herself, her voice cracking completely. “Oh God,” she whispered, “he’s going to die.”
Haley’s face fell.

“What?” Haley asked.

“Your father,” Deb said, clutching the back of the pew for balance. “Dan. After everything he’s done, I don’t want him to die hating the world… or you.”

Nathan’s hand fell from his side, his face unreadable. He glanced toward the chapel doors, and almost like it was on cue, they burst open. Dan Scott stumbled in, hospital gown and all, wires still clipped to him. His voice was sharp, even in the sterile air.

“Nathan!” Dan barked. “You think you can just sneak around, get married, and come tell your mother like it’s some sweet little fairytale?!”

“Dad…” Nathan started, but Dan wasn’t hearing it.

“Do you have any idea what kind of life you just signed up for?” Dan’s face was flushed, his breathing uneven. He looked like he was about to collapse again, but the anger was keeping him upright. “Marriage isn’t some… teenage experiment!”

Darry had stepped in by then, moving closer, not to interfere, but ready if Dan’s temper got the best of him.

“Take it easy, Mr. Scott,” Darry said, his voice calm but firm. “You just got out of a heart attack, remember?”

Dan’s glare cut toward him.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Dan asked.

“Someone who’s not afraid to tell you to sit down before you hit the floor again,” Darry said evenly.

For a second, it looked like Dan might actually listen. Then his chest heaved, and he clutched his side.

“This…” he pointed weakly toward Nathan and Haley “...isn’t over.”

Nathan stepped forward.

“No, Dad,” Nathan said, voice steady. “It’s over. You don’t get to run my life anymore.”

Dan stared at him like he didn’t know who he was looking at. Then he turned and staggered toward the door, muttering something under his breath before disappearing down the hall.

The silence left behind was almost worse than his yelling.

Deb’s knees gave out a little, and Haley rushed to catch her.

“He’s going to die,” Deb whispered again. “And I let him.”

“No,” Haley said gently, “you didn’t. He’s doing this to himself.”

Nathan wrapped an arm around both of them, and for a second, just one, they looked like a family trying to stitch itself back together in the middle of chaos.

Out in the hallway, Cherry squeezed Pony’s hand again. Nathan noticed this time, his tired smile flickering for just a second.

“So the secret’s really out now, huh?” Nathan said.

Pony looked sheepish but didn’t let go of her hand.

“Guess it was bound to happen sooner or later,” Pony said.

Haley smiled faintly, brushing her sleeve across her cheek.

“You two make a good team,” Haley said. “Guess love’s contagious around here.”

Two-Bit grinned.

“Yeah, but some of us are immune,” Two-Bit said.

Soda laughed, shoving his shoulder.

“You mean some of us are just hopeless,” Soda said.

“Same thing,” Two-Bit said.

We all followed Deb and Nathan as they left the chapel, the light fading through the hospital windows, that pale, end-of-day kind of glow that made everything look softer, even the parts that still hurt. Maybe that’s what love did too, even when it was messy, broken, or too young, it softened people just enough to keep them going.

And as we walked out into the night air, I couldn’t help thinking that in Tree Hill, nobody really got a clean start. We all just kept trying to rewrite what came next.

Chapter Text

Chapter 48

Pony’s POV

“Well that could’ve gone better,” Two-Bit muttered.

“Well at least my parents handled it better,” Haley said with a sigh. “Do you think she’ll warm up to it?”

Haley looked at Nathan when she asked this.

Nathan shrugged.

“Who knows,” Nathan said sheepishly.

“She will,” Soda said with a shrug. “She’s just overwhelmed right now. She’ll come around.”

Haley gave Soda a sad smile.

Then my phone beeped.

I looked at it and it was a text from Peyton.

“Brooke and Peyton made up again,” I said.

“You know they would,” Johnny said with a small smile. “Best friends always do.”

“You’re right they do,” I said with a smile back.

“I’m going to stop by the cafe,” Haley said. “You guys coming to your shifts?”

I nodded.

“We’re right behind you guys,” Two-Bit said.

“Soda and I will meet up with you guys for dinner after we’re done at the shop,” Steve said. “Enjoy the house by yourself Dar.”

Darry gave a small smile.

“I’m actually looking forward to a drama empty afternoon for once,” Darry said.

“Don’t jinx us,” Dally muttered.

Soon enough we were at Karen’s Café.

I frowned though when I saw the closed sign.

“What do you think that means?” Johnny asked.

“Maybe she needed her alone time after the hospital mess,” Two-Bit said with a shrug.

We followed Haley in.

“What’s up with the closed sign?” Haley asked Karen, who was sitting at the counter.

“I just didn’t feel like it today,” Karen said with a sad smile. “Mrs. Scott.”

Haley gave her a wry smile and gave her a hug.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Haley said. “I wish you could’ve been there.”

Haley turned to us.

“All of you,” Haley said.

“We’ll celebrate in our own way,” Johnny said.

Haley laughed and nodded.

“Are you upset with me?” Haley asked Karen.

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Karen deflected.

“It matters to me,” Haley pleaded.

Karen sighed.

“I know what it’s like to be in love in high school,” Karen said. “But sometimes love fades. I just hope it doesn’t fade for you.”

Cherry looked at me in alarm.

“I hope that isn’t us,” Cherry whispered to us.

“I hope it doesn’t too,” I said. “But who knows what happens. But lets just try for the best.”

Cherry gave me a kiss on the cheek.

Karen gave us a small smile.

“Sorry,” Karen said. “I didn’t mean to make you nervous.”

“No offense taken,” I said. “I know you mean well.”

“Barf,” Dally said. “Everyone needs to get a room.”

Two-Bit laughed.

“You and you’re aversion to love,” Two-Bit laughed.

“How do you know that word?” Johnny asked in surprise.

“I have many secrets,” Two-Bit said.

Everyone laughed.

“You guys go have fun,” Karen said. “You guys have pay since I didn’t give you guys any notice that we’re closed this afternoon.”

“You sure?” I asked.

Karen nodded and smiled.

“Go and enjoy your evening,” Karen said.

Soon enough Dally, Johnny, Two-Bit, Cherry and i met up with Brooke and Peyton on the beach as they talked about Lucas in front of a bonfire.

They threw his letter in the fire.

“That took guts,” Dally said.

“Probably for the best,” Johnny said.

“Let’s head back to the house guys,” Two-Bit said. “Before Darry has our butts.”

We laughed and headed out.

When we got to dinner Darry was making some meatloaf for dinner.

“So what happened while you guys were at work?” Darry asked us.

“Well,” Soda said. “It’s still kind of weird running the shop without Keith there. But Steve and I are holding our own.”

“At least the guys are getting used to us as managers,” Steve said with a smirk.

“Karen closed the cafe earlier today,” I said. “She’s still pretty shaken up about the Dan thing.”

“Don’t worry,” Johnny interrupted before Darry could speak up. “She gave us pay since she didn’t warn us.”

Cherry’s phone pinged and she smiled.

“You guys will never believe who is back in town,” Cherry said. “That’s Karen. Lucas is back.”

Soda beamed.

“No freaking way,” Soda said.

“I knew he couldn’t stay away,” Two-Bit said with a smirk.

Darry groaned.

“That just means that there is more trouble about to pop up,” Darry muttered.

Dally cracked a smile and slapped Darry on the back.

“Lighten up Dar,” Dally said. “It wouldn’t be Tree Hill if drama and gossip didn’t crop up at some point. We’re all in for the long hall.”

“Whatever that means,” Steve grumbled. “Let’s just hope Dan doesn’t stir up much since he had a heart attack.”

Johnny groaned.

“You’re going to jinx us now too,” Johnny said.

After we cleaned up after dinner, Cherry pulled me outside to the front porch to talk.

“What’s up?” I asked.

Cherry gave me a weary smile as she sat on the porch swing. I sat next to her.

“I’ve just been thinking about what Karen said today,” Cherry said. “I’m just nervous about what she said.”

I sighed.

“Just don’t think about it too hard,” I said. “But it’s like calling the kettle black. I’ve been thinking about it too. But like we said at the cafe. Let’s just take it as it comes. Karen’s probably just jaded after what happened to her and Dan in high school.”

“You’re probably right,” Cherry said as she placed her head. “Do you think we can keep this?”

“Keep what?” I asked, as I leaned my head against hers.

“This,” Cherry said. “Nights like these. Nights where we keep each other close.”

“I think we can keep some semblance of this,” I said. “If we just remember what drew us to each other. Keep ourselves grounded. Keep ourselves surrounded by good people that trust us and consider us family. I think we can.”

“How can you think like this?” Cherry asked. “Espeically after everything you’ve been through. With Bob, the fire, moving, and all this new changes.”

I sighed as I looked at Cherry and through the window behind us to the guys inside the house laughing around the table.

“I’ve got friends, family, and a girlfriend that helped me though it all,” I said softly.

Cherry caressed my cheek with her hand.

“I love you Ponyboy,” Cherry whispered.

My heart fluttered.

That’s the first time she’s said that.

“You’re serious?” I asked in surprise.

Cherry looked at me with serious eyes.

“I meant it,” Cherry said. “Every word of it.”

“I love you too, Cherry,” I whispered.

Cherry gave me a small smile.

“I’m glad,” Cherry said.

We both leaned in, hot and heavy.

We gave each other a deep and personal kiss.

I didn’t care if the gusy saw. I knew what I wanted in that moment.

And in that moment, I wanted Cherry.

When Cherry and I pulled apart I looked behind us and blushed.

The guys were staring at us. Soda and Two-Bit were grinning ear to ear. Steve and Dally had a smirk. Darry had a raised eyebrow. Johnny was just smiling knowingly.

I groaned and Cherry laughed.

“You can’t blame them,” Cherry said. “We do put on quite a show.”

I blushed, hard.

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” Cherry laughed as she pinched my cheak.

That just made me blush harder.

“And you’re cute when you laugh and you’re happy,” I retorted.

This caused Cherry to laugh harder.

Tonight didn’t end up too bad.

Chapter Text

Chapter 49

Soda’s POV

The sun was bleeding orange over the river when I saw him, Lucas Scott, lying flat on his back in the middle of the River Court, earbuds in, his buzzed hair catching the light. For a second, I didn’t even recognize him. He looked… older. Not in years, but in something heavier that sat behind his eyes when he finally noticed us coming down the hill.

Nathan was the first to speak, hands shoved in his pockets.

“You cut your hair,” Nathan said.

Lucas smiled faintly.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “Fresh start.”

The rest of us, me, Pony, Johnny, Dally, Steve, Two-Bit, just hovered behind Nathan, like shadows of the last year’s chaos. Cherry stood beside Pony, her hand finding his without even thinking. It was small, that touch, but it said everything, something solid, something new.

Nathan kicked at the court, eyes still on Lucas.

“You pick a good time to come back,” Nathan said. “Season’s already started.”
Lucas laughed under his breath.

“Guess I like a challenge,” Lucas said. “He sat up, pulling the earbuds from his ears, the faint sound of classic rock leaking out.

“So… how’s Dan?” Lucas asked.

Nathan’s face flickered.

“Alive,” Nathan said flatly. “And trying to convince everyone he’s the second coming of Mr. Rogers.”

That got a small chuckle out of Lucas, and the rest of us. The laughter was short-lived, though, as the weight of that truth hung there between them.

“Glad you’re back, man,” I said finally, and Lucas nodded, standing to clasp my shoulder. “Tree Hill hasn’t felt the same.”

“Maybe it’s not supposed to,” Lucas said, looking past me toward the water.

That night, the air in Tree Hill was restless. Brooke and Peyton were hosting some party in their apartment, a blowout they swore was “just a get-together.” The kind that always turns into something bigger.

We showed up late, me, Pony, Cherry, Two-Bit, Johnny, Steve, and Dally. The music was loud enough to rattle your ribs. Brooke, in true Brooke fashion, was laughing too loudly near the kitchen, holding court with a handful of Ravens who couldn’t take their eyes off her. Peyton, on the other hand, was sprawled on the couch, looking like she wanted to melt into it.

“Never thought I’d see the day Brooke Davis and Peyton Sawyer were friends again,” Two-Bit muttered beside me, eyeing them.
“Yeah,” Johnny said quietly. “Tree Hill’s full of surprises lately.”

Pony and Cherry danced in the corner, if you could call it dancing. It was more like swaying together in their own world. Her hands looped behind his neck; his fingers rested carefully at her waist. Neither said much. They didn’t need to.

When she leaned up to whisper something in his ear, Pony’s grin spread slow and sure. Cherry’s laughter slipped through the noise like music I didn’t know I needed to hear. For a moment, even with all the chaos, the music, the lights, the crowd, it felt like there was peace in that tiny orbit around them.

“Man,” Dally said, watching them with his arms crossed. “Didn’t think the kid had it in him.”

“Guess love hits everyone eventually,” I said.

Dally smirked.

“Don’t sound so sentimental, Curtis,” Dally said.

I didn’t argue. Maybe I was sentimental. Maybe that’s all I had left to hold onto these days.

Meanwhile, across town, Dan Scott was doing his own kind of performance. Word was spreading fast: he was out of the hospital, walking around like some man reborn. No one bought it, not really, but there he was, smiling at Deb like she hadn’t watched him destroy everything they built.

Johnny had overheard it at the café earlier, how Dan had cleaned up his diet, started seeing a therapist, started talking about “gratitude” and “second chances.” All that white-picket-fence crap.

“Guy’s full of it,” Dally said when we heard. “You don’t come back from what he’s done by drinking green juice and reading self-help books.”

“Maybe he’s trying,” Cherry said softly, surprising all of us.

Dally raised an eyebrow.

“You think that snake can change his skin?” Dally asked.

Cherry shrugged.

“I think everyone’s got a shot,” Cherry said. “Some just don’t take it.”

That quiet conviction in her voice, it did something to all of us. Even Dally looked away first.

Later that week, Lucas visited Deb at the hospital. He said Dan looked like a ghost trying to fake being alive. I believed him.

“Dan’s saying he’s been reborn,” Lucas told us when we caught up at Karen’s Café. “He says it’s his ‘Phoenix moment.’”

“Phoenix, my ass,” Steve muttered. “ More like a vulture.”

We all laughed, but underneath, no one was really laughing.

Nathan came in midway through our conversation, shoulders heavy but smile half-there. Haley followed a few steps behind him, her hand brushing his as if reminding him, we’re in this together.

They were still learning how to be married. Still figuring out the rhythm between the boy who was all fire and the girl who burned slow and steady.

But lately, there were cracks. Little things they weren’t saying. Glances that lasted a second too long before one of them looked away.

As we left the café that evening, I caught them standing under the flickering streetlight out front. Haley’s arms were crossed. Nathan’s hands were buried in his pockets. They weren’t yelling, but that almost made it worse.

“I didn’t mean to shut you out,” Nathan said, his voice low.

“I know,” Haley said. “But you did.”

There was a pause, the kind that breaks things.

“I love you,” Nathan said. “But sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Haley looked at him for a long moment before shaking her head.

“Then maybe start figuring it out,” Haley said.

When she walked away, Nathan stood there, watching her disappear down the block.

That night, the Curtis house felt heavier than usual. Dinner was quiet, just the sounds of forks on plates, a hum of the radio, Darry reading over some work papers at the table.

Pony and Cherry sat side by side on the couch afterward, sharing a blanket and watching some old black-and-white movie on TV. Her head leaned against his shoulder; his hand brushed through her hair absentmindedly.

It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t loud. But there was something beautiful in how steady it was.

Johnny was sketching in his notebook. Two-Bit was half-asleep, one sock on, one off. Dally was flipping a coin, catching it before it hit the floor every single time. Steve sat beside me, polishing a wrench just because he didn’t know what else to do with his hands.

And me? I just looked around and tried to memorize it.

Because things were shifting again. You could feel it in the air, like the moment before a storm breaks, the quiet that almost hurts.

Tree Hill was changing. The people, the stories, the stakes. But here, in this little house full of grease-stained hands and loud laughter and love that survived more than it should’ve, we were still standing.

I leaned back in my chair, watching the glow of the TV wash over all of them, and thought maybe that was enough, for now.

Saturday started slow, the way weekends sometimes do after too much noise the night before. Darry had already gone out early for work calls, and most of us were lounging around the kitchen table when Nathan called, asking if we wanted to swing by the apartment later. Haley was cooking brunch for a few people, and apparently Tim, Brooke, and Peyton were coming too. Sounded like a weird mix, but that’s Tree Hill for you, everyone’s life ends up tangled together eventually.

When we showed up, the apartment smelled like pancakes and coffee and something sweet, maybe syrup or the trace of a life trying to feel normal. Haley was at the stove, flipping pancakes like she’d been born to do it, her hair twisted up, a few curls falling into her face. Nathan was setting the table with all the focus of a guy trying not to screw anything else up.

Tim, of course, was already on the couch eating directly from a bowl of cereal, even though Haley had told him three times to wait for everyone else. Brooke was perched on the counter like she owned the place, legs crossed, drink in hand, while Peyton leaned against the wall beside her, smirking at something Brooke had said.

“So what’s this about a party?” Two-Bit asked, flopping down beside Tim. “Because last time I heard ‘party’ and ‘Nathan Scott’ in the same sentence, there were cops, handcuffs, and a citation for disturbing the peace.”

Nathan shot him a look, and even Haley couldn’t help laughing a little.

“Not that kind of party,” Haley said. “Apparently Brooke and Peyton want to throw us a belated bachelor and bachelorette party.”

Brooke leaned forward, waving her glass like a queen giving an order.

“Correction, a proper celebration,” Brooke said. “You two got married in secret, which, might I add, robbed us of an excuse to wear something fabulous and mildly inappropriate.”

Haley rolled her eyes.

“You’re serious about this?” Haley asked.

“Absolutely,” Brooke said. “I already have a list.”

Peyton shrugged, the corner of her mouth tugging up.

“I’ll make the playlist,” Peytons aid. “You know, something that doesn’t make Tim’s brain melt.”

Tim lifted his spoon.

“Hey, I like good music,” Tim said.

Steve chuckled.

“Yeah, like that time you said Nickelback wrote ‘Stairway to Heaven’,” Steve teased.

The room broke into laughter, and even Tim couldn’t keep from grinning.

While they joked, I watched Nathan watching Haley. He was trying to look calm, like he was used to all this, people in his space, this mix of friends from two worlds. But there was still that tension under the surface. Marriage was new territory, and for two kids barely out of high school, it showed in the small ways: the silence between sentences, the nervous glances, the way Haley’s hand brushed the ring on her finger whenever she was unsure.

Pony and Cherry sat on the far side of the couch, a little bubble of peace in the chaos. Cherry’s hand rested on Pony’s knee, and he kept sneaking looks at her, like he couldn’t believe he got this lucky. It wasn’t loud or showy, just simple, steady. Every once in a while, I caught Darry’s voice in my head saying this is what real love looks like: quiet and strong enough to last.

Two-Bit noticed it too, of course.

“Kid’s got it bad,” Two-Bit whispered to me.

“Yeah,” I said. “And she’s good for him.”

“Better than good,” Johnny added quietly from his seat by the window. “She’s grounding him.”

It hit me then, how far we’d all come from the night we rolled into Tree Hill. We weren’t just the Tulsa gang anymore. We were part of something bigger now, tied up in the lives of these kids who wore Ravens jerseys and carried heartbreak like it was armor.

Brooke started sketching ideas for the party on a napkin, loud, messy plans that involved decorations, music, and something about a scavenger hunt that made Haley groan audibly. Peyton added a few song titles in her scribbled handwriting, humming under her breath.

When Brooke looked up, she grinned at us.

“You Tulsa boys are coming too, obviously,” Brooke said. “I need bodies for balance, too many Tree Hill guys makes the party predictable.”

“Predictable?” Dally smirked, lighting his usual grin like a match. “ You ain’t seen us dance yet.”

Cherry laughed, covering her mouth.

“You can dance?” Cherry asked, skeptical.

“Depends on the song,” Dally said. “And how much beer’s around.”

Haley sighed but smiled anyway.

“Fine,” Haley said. “You guys can come. Just… don’t start anything, okay?”

Dally raised his hand like a Boy Scout.

“Promise,” Dally said.

Nathan shot him a doubtful glance.

“That’s what worries me,” Nathan said.

By late afternoon, the apartment had cleared out. Haley was cleaning dishes, Nathan was helping, sort of, and the rest of us filtered onto the small balcony overlooking the street. The light had softened, brushing everything in that golden glow that made Tree Hill feel smaller and calmer for a few fleeting minutes.

Cherry leaned against the railing, eyes on the horizon. Pony joined her, sliding his arm around her waist, whispering something that made her smile and rest her head against his chest.
I caught Darry’s gaze through the sliding door. He saw it too, that quiet closeness, and gave me a small nod, half approval, half warning. The same one he used to give when Pony or I were younger and he saw something he knew could either save you or break you.

Inside, Nathan and Haley were talking quietly, voices low but steady. There was something fragile about it, like they were still learning how to balance being lovers and partners at the same time.
“You really want this party thing?” Nathan asked, leaning against the counter.

Haley shrugged.

“I don’t know. Brooke and Peyton mean well,” Haley said. “But I’m not sure I’m ready for everyone to know we’re married. It’s… complicated.”

Nathan stepped closer, his hand brushing hers.

“We’ll figure it out,” Nathan said.

Haley met his eyes.

“You really think so?” Haley asked.

“Yeah,” Nathan said softly. “We always do.”

For a second, it felt like time slowed, the kind of silence that makes you realize just how young they were and how hard they were trying to build something real.

Behind me, Two-Bit broke the quiet.

“Man, I hope they make it,” Two-Bit said. “They’ve got that whole ‘us against the world’ thing going on.”

Johnny smiled faintly.

“So did we, once,” Johnny said.

I looked over at him, at all of us, and thought how strange it was that Tree Hill, this place of basketball courts and beach houses and broken hearts, had become our home.

We weren’t just visitors anymore. We were part of the story now.

And as the sun dipped below the rooftops, I couldn’t help but feel it again, that same hum in the air, the one that meant change was coming. Always was.

But for tonight, there was laughter, plans for a ridiculous party, and the faint sound of Cherry’s soft laugh as Pony whispered something only she could hear.

For tonight, that was enough.

Chapter Text

Chapter 50

Darry’s POV

The day had that strange kind of stillness that settles after bad news, like the whole town of Tree Hill was holding its breath. Work had been long and hot, the kind where sawdust clung to sweat and conversation stayed quiet. Dan Scott’s heart attack was still the talk on every site. Some of the guys said maybe he’d finally gotten what was coming to him. Others said he was lucky to still be alive. Darry didn’t say much either way. Life had taught him how fast a man could fall, how quick a heart could just stop beating one day and leave the people who depended on it to pick up what was left.
That night, when he got home, the house felt full, noise and life spilling out from the kitchen. Pony and Cherry were shoulder to shoulder by the stove, her hair brushing his arm every time she leaned to stir the pot. Soda caught my eye with that half-grin that said you seeing this? Two-Bit and Dally were playing cards on the counter, Johnny watching from the doorway, quiet as usual. Steve sat cross-legged on the floor, elbows on his knees, flipping through a car magazine. It felt good, like family, like something worth fighting for.

But I could see how deep Pony had fallen for Cherry. It was in the way he moved around her, soft-spoken, careful, almost protective. I wasn’t sure if it scared me more or made me proud.

Dinner was almost ready when Karen came by with Lucas. The kid looked older somehow, thinner, like Charleston had already started shaping him. He gave Darry a tired nod before dropping into a chair. The others gave him space, like they knew the air was heavier around him tonight.

Karen’s smile was polite, but she looked like she hadn’t slept much.

“Sorry to intrude, boys,” Karen said. “We were just out for a drive.”

“You’re always welcome,” I said. “Grab a plate.”

Lucas shook his head.

“I’m not hungry,” Lucas said with a sigh. “I just… needed to stop by.”

Cherry glanced up from beside Pony, concern flickering across her face. I caught that too. Cherry had a way of noticing people. It was probably what drew Pony to her.

Lucas was turning his phone over in his hand.

“Where’d you go today, Luke?” Karen asked.

Lucas didn’t look up.
“The hospital,” Lucas mumbled.

The whole table went quiet. Even Dally stopped dealing the next hand.

“You saw Dan,” Karen said carefully, though she already knew.

“Yeah.” Lucas’s voice was low, tired. “I wasn’t gonna hide from him.”

Karen swallowed.

“How did it go?” Karen asked.

Lucas hesitated.

“He apologized,” Lucas said. “For… everything.” Lucas gave a small, humorless laugh. “Guess dying once will do that to you.”

I leaned back, crossing my arms. I could picture that scene all too well, Dan hooked up to wires, trying to sound like a father for once. I’d known men like that, who only learned to say sorry when they were staring at the end of it.

“What’d you say to him?” Soda asked, softer than usual.

Lucas shook his head.

“Nothing,” Lucas said with a shrug. “I just left.”

Karen reached for his hand.

“That’s okay, Luke,” Karen said softly. “You don’t owe him forgiveness.”

Lucas nodded, staring at the table.

“I know,” Lucas said. “But part of me wanted to say something. Maybe I wanted him to see what he missed out on.”

I spoke up quietly.

“He saw it,” I said. “Trust me. A man like that knows what he’s thrown away, it just takes him too long to face it.”

Pony’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth.

“You think people like that change?” Pony asked.

I thought about that a long moment before answering.

“Sometimes,” I said. “But not always the way you hope. Sometimes the change comes too late.”

The conversation drifted from there. Cherry slipped her hand into Pony’s under the table when she thought nobody saw. I noticed but didn’t say anything. The two of them were something tender in a world that’d seen too much roughness. I could live with that.

When dinner ended, the others filed out, Two-Bit joking, Johnny offering to help Cherry with dishes, Dally lighting a smoke on the porch. I lingered in the kitchen with Karen and Lucas. The hum of the refrigerator filled the silence.

“Thanks for feeding us,” Karen said quietly.

“Always,” I said. “You and Lucas are family.”

Lucas gave a faint smile.

“Heading back to Charleston soon,” Lucas said.

“Good luck, kid,” Darry said. “Take care of Keith.”

Lucas met his eyes, something steady there.

“I will,” Lucas said.

When they left, I stepped out onto the porch. The night air was cool. Inside, I could hear faint laughter, Pony and Cherry watching something on TV, voices low and close. I smiled, leaning on the railing.
Soda joined me, tossing a beer cap into the yard.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” Soda said.

“Always do,” I said.

Soda chuckled.

“Lot’s changing, huh?” Soda said.

“Yeah,” I said. “Feels like this town’s never still.”

Soda looked back toward the house, the warm light spilling through the window, his brothers and their friends inside. It wasn’t perfect. It never would be. But it was theirs.

And for the first time in a long while, that felt like enough.

By the next afternoon, the Curtis house had settled into one of those quiet rhythms that came after long days and long weeks. Work had been steady for me, and I’d come home early enough to catch the tail end of lunch, Soda and Steve grabbing sandwiches before heading to the auto shop, Pony and Cherry sprawled out on the living room floor surrounded by notebooks.

Cherry’s laughter carried through the house. It was a sound that softened the edges of the day, even for me. I didn’t say anything, just listened.

When the phone rang, it was Lucas. He’d been back and forth since Dan’s heart attack, still looking like he hadn’t decided if Tree Hill was home anymore. He asked if the guys wanted to ride along to Keith’s dealership, said he needed to stop by and talk to him.

Soda wiped his hands on a towel.

“I’m game,” Soda said.

Two-Bit leaned against the doorframe.

“Can’t pass up watchin’ Keith boss people around,” Two-Bit said. “That man runs a shop like Darry runs this house, no one breathes without permission.”

Dally just grinned.

“Guess I’ll tag along,” Dally said. “Haven’t had my daily dose of Dan Scott gossip yet.”

Pony stood, Cherry following his lead.

“We’ll come too,” Pony said. His hand brushed against Cherry’s, small, but enough to catch my eye. They’d gotten comfortable around the rest of the gang now. Still shy, but not hiding. The way they looked at each other said plenty.

So they all piled into Soda’s truck and headed over.

The dealership looked cleaner than I had ever seen it. Glass windows gleamed like they’d been scrubbed twice, cars lined up in a perfect row out front. Keith stood near the service bay, sleeves rolled up, clipboard in one hand, phone in the other.

When he spotted Lucas walking up, he hung up quick. His expression softened.

“Hey, Luke,” Keith said. “Didn’t expect to see you today.”

Lucas shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Wanted to see how you were holding up,” Keith said. “How’s it going?”

Keith huffed a short laugh, gesturing toward the shop.

“It’s Dan’s place,” Dan said. “That should tell you enough. He did everything himself, wouldn’t let anyone else touch the big stuff. Now I’m here trying to figure out which way is up.”

Lucas smiled faintly.

“That sounds about right,” Lucas said.

“That sounds exactly like Dan,” Soda muttered.

Two-Bit elbowed him.

“Shh, man,” Two-Bit said. “Let ’em talk.”

Inside, Keith ran a hand through his hair.

“Could use another set of hands, though,” Keith said. “You could come back and work for me, like old times.”

Lucas’s brow furrowed.

“I don’t know how I’d feel about getting a check with Dan’s name on it,” Lucas said.

Keith chuckled.

“Feels pretty good, actually,” Keith said.

That earned a quiet grin from Lucas.

Keith clapped a hand on his nephew’s shoulder.

“The job’s yours if you want it,” Keith said. “Think about it. No pressure.”

“Thanks,” Lucas said. “I will.” He hesitated, eyes flicking to the office door, maybe picturing Dan sitting there, barking orders, making people small. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

Keith nodded, gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Take care of yourself, Luke,” Keith said.

Outside, the air smelled like new tires and engine oil. I leaned against the side of the truck, watching the exchange through the window. It reminded him of the way things used to be with his own dad, the pride in showing a kid how to do something right, the hope that maybe that work would build a better kind of life.

“Keith’s got a good heart,” I said as Lucas walked up.

“Yeah,” Lucas said quietly. “He’s one of the good ones.”

Cherry nudged Pony lightly.

“He reminds me of you guys,” Cherry said. “Solid.”

Pony smiled, glancing at me like he wasn’t sure if he should say it.

“Yeah,” Pony said. “Real solid.”

Dally snorted.

“You mean the boring type,” Dally said.

Johnny shot him a look.

“Not boring,” Johnny said. “Just dependable.”

Soda grinned.

“Which is probably why none of us are running a dealership,” Soda said.

They all laughed, the easy kind that shook off the heaviness. Even Lucas smiled a little wider.

Later, back at the house, the evening light spilled gold through the windows. Dinner was simple, grilled cheese and tomato soup, Cherry and Pony shoulder to shoulder at the stove again, working in quiet rhythm.

I noticed the little things, how Cherry brushed the hair from Pony’s eyes while he stirred, how Pony made sure her bowl was filled before his own. They had that look that came with first love, but it wasn’t loud or showy. It was patient, and it ran deep.

After dinner, Soda and Steve talked shop in the living room while Two-Bit entertained Johnny with half-finished jokes. Dally sprawled on the couch, flipping a lighter open and shut. Cherry leaned against Pony’s shoulder as they watched, half-laughing at the others.

I leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. It struck him again how much their lives had changed since coming to Tree Hill. They weren’t the Tulsa kids fighting to survive anymore, they were growing, finding roots in a place that felt real.

Still, I could feel the tension humming beneath the surface. Dan’s heart attack. Keith running the dealership. Lucas caught between the past and whatever was coming next.

Tree Hill had a way of shaking things loose, he’d learned that. And as I looked around at the faces that had become his family, I hoped that when it happened this time, they’d all still be standing when the dust settled.

I turned toward the kitchen, where Cherry and Pony were still talking softly, heads bent close. Their hands brushed, fingers lacing together for a moment that felt small but certain.

I smiled faintly to myself. Yeah, he thought. They’ll be alright.

Chapter Text

Chapter 51

Two-Bit’s POV

Tree Hill had this way of looking brand new even when you saw it every day. The air was sharp that morning, sunlight bouncing off the shop windows along Front Street, leaves tumbling down Main like they had somewhere important to be.

I wasn’t usually the kind to tag along on errands, but since Karen’s Café didn’t open until lunch rush and Dally had the morning shift covered, I thought I’d join the others to grab coffee before heading over. Pony and Cherry walked ahead of me, fingers linked like they’d been doing it their whole lives. I pretended not to notice, I’d teased them enough already, but there was something about the way they looked together that made even a cynic like me feel a little softer.

They turned the corner just in time to spot Keith Scott coming out of the rival coffee shop, the one Karen used to joke about crushing in sales. He looked different. Clean-shaven, sharp suit, tie knotted perfectly. If he hadn’t been holding the paper cup with the wrong logo, I might’ve thought he’d walked out of a business magazine instead of a small-town dealership.

Pony whistled low.

“That’s Keith?” Pony asked.

Cherry smiled.

“He cleans up nice,” Cherry murmured.

I smirked.

“Man went from grease monkey to GQ in a week,” I teased. “Didn’t even give us time to prepare.”

That’s when Karen appeared from the opposite direction, tote bag slung over her shoulder, hair pulled back in that practical way she wore when she was running the café. The gang hung back by a nearby bench, close enough to see, far enough to stay out of the way.

Keith spotted her at the same time.

“Karen,” Keith said, like her name still caught on something in his throat.

Karen smiled, a little surprised.

“Keith,” Karen said. “Wow, you look fantastic. It’s like a whole new you.”

I nudged Dally, who’d shown up late with a cup from the right café.

“You hear that? New Keith. Guess heartbreak comes with a glow-up.”

Dally chuckled.

“Maybe I should try it sometime,” Dally said.

Keith shifted, rubbing the back of his neck, smiling like he didn’t quite know what to do with the compliment.

“Thanks,” Keith said. “You look great too.”

Karen tilted her head, eyes soft but guarded.

“So, how’s everything going at the dealership?” Karen asked.

Keith nodded, trying for casual.

“Good,” Keith said. “Yeah. I think it’s gonna be okay.”

There was a short silence between them, the kind that used to be easy but now carried all the words neither one had said when they’d had the chance.

Karen nodded.

“Good,” Karen said.

That’s when she noticed it, the logo on the coffee cup. The rival shop. You could see the flicker of surprise cross her face before she smoothed it out.

“Uh oh,” Pony whispered.

“He didn’t,” Cherry whispered back.

I grinned.

“Oh, he did,” I said.

Keith followed Karen’s gaze down to the cup, and his smile faltered.

“Guess I should probably get back to the dealership,” Keith said quickly. “I’ll, uh, see you around.”

Karen’s jaw tightened, just slightly. But she nodded.

“Okay, Keith,” Karen said. “Take care.”

Karen nodded again, holding up the offending cup like it might shield him, and walked off down the block.

“Man,” I muttered once Keith was out of earshot, “she’s not gonna let that slide. That’s coffee treason.”

Soda laughed under his breath.

“You’d think he cheated on her with a cappuccino,” Soda said.

Pony elbowed him, smiling despite himself.

“She’s proud of her café, Soda,” Pony said. “That’s loyalty.”

Cherry grinned at him.

“You’d understand that, wouldn’t you?” Cherry said.

Pony blushed slightly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Maybe,” Pony said with a smirk.

I caught it, how natural they were now, how Cherry’s hand found his when she said things like that. They were getting more at ease about it, the way they leaned into each other instead of away. And honestly? I liked seeing it. Out of all of them, Pony deserved something soft.

Dally stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Keith better buy his next cup from Karen’s place if he knows what’s good for him,” Dally said.

“Yeah,” I said with a grin, “and maybe a muffin too. Peace offering.”

We started walking again, the morning crowd picking up around them. The street buzzed with quiet talk about Dan’s recovery, about Haley and Nathan’s marriage, about Brooke’s new “I’m totally fine” attitude that fooled no one. Tree Hill was small, but it never ran out of stories.

Cherry leaned her head on Pony’s shoulder as they walked, her laughter threading through the noise of the street.

“Hey, Two-Bit,” Cherry called over. “When you and Darry first got here, did you think this town would ever feel like home?”

I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets, pretending to think about it.

“Nah,” I said. “But it’s got a way of sneakin’ up on you. Kinda like love, I guess.”

Pony looked over, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“You’re gettin’ sentimental on us, man,” Pony said.

I winked.

“Don’t tell anybody,” I teased. “I got a reputation to uphold.”

Cherry laughed, and Pony did too, and for a moment the whole group just fit, no ghosts of Tulsa, no weight of old fights. Just the easy kind of morning where everyone could breathe.

That night, back at the Curtis house, Darry had the news on low, the faint hum filling the quiet as the others talked around the kitchen table. Soda and Steve compared shifts at the shop, Dally and Johnny tossed a deck of cards back and forth, and Pony sat with Cherry, heads tilted close as they looked at the doodles she’d made in the margins of her notebook.

I leaned back in his chair, smiling to myself. I watched as Cherry traced a small heart next to Pony’s name on the page, subtle, private, but there. Pony looked at her like she hung the stars herself.
Tree Hill had a strange way of shaping people, I thought. Of taking broken things and smoothing the edges, not by erasing the cracks, but by filling them with something new, something stronger.

Keith and Karen had missed their timing, maybe. But watching Pony and Cherry, Two-Bit figured some people still got theirs just right.

By the time the afternoon settled in, Tree Hill’s light had turned that honey-colored shade that made even the dealership look peaceful. The guys had met up near the corner lot, Soda still had some paperwork to hand off from Keith’s auto shop, and I tagged along for the ride, half out of curiosity, half out of boredom.

Inside, the place smelled like polish and new tires. Lucas was already there, sitting across from Dan Scott’s desk, a manila folder in his hand and that look on his face that said this was the last place he wanted to be.

I hung back with Soda, the two of them pretending to browse the new model cars by the windows. Dally, Johnny, and Cherry had parked outside with Pony, who’d insisted on waiting in the car. Darry was still at work, but even from here I could feel how the gang circled each other when it came to the Scotts, like everyone was waiting for something to explode.

Dan leaned back in his office chair, sharp suit and hospital pallor at odds. The man looked better, but there was something behind his eyes now, something slowed down. Maybe that was what a heart attack did to you.

“You know,” Dan said, voice smooth but softer than usual, “the doctors have put me through some cardiovascular rehab.”

Lucas didn’t move.

“Yeah?” Lucas said.

Dan smiled faintly.

“I think you’d like to join me,” Dan said.

There was a pause, Lucas staring at him like he wasn’t sure if this was a setup. Then he sat down across from Dan.

“So you want to be workout buddies now?” Lucas asked.

Dan steepled his fingers.

“It gives us some time to spend together,” Dan said. “I could get to know you.”

Lucas let out a dry laugh.

“You had my whole life to do that,” Lucas said.

The sound of that hit the room like a door closing.

From outside the glass, Soda exhaled.

“Man, he’s not holding back,” Soda said.

I folded my arms.

“Would you?” I asked. “After everything that guy’s pulled?”

Through the window, they could see Dan hesitate, just for a breath. Then he smiled again, thin and careful.

“Well,” Dan said, “the world’s given me a second chance. Maybe you will too.”

Lucas leaned forward on his elbows.

“You really think we’d even be having this conversation if you weren’t on the outs with Nathan?” Lucas asked.

I raised my brows.

“Oh, he went there,” I said.

Dan’s mouth tightened, but he shook his head.

“That’s not it,” Dan said. “But I understand your trepidation. I haven’t exactly given you reason to trust me in the past.”

“You can say that again,” Soda muttered under his breath.

Dan reached for a folder on the edge of the desk and slid it toward Lucas.

“Look, will you do me a favor and put this file in the lockbox at the bottom of my desk?” Dan asked. “There’s a key taped to the bottom drawer.”

Lucas’s jaw flexed.

“Yeah,” Lucas said.

Dan nodded slowly, that politician’s calm back in his voice.

“Lucas… you might not trust me,” Lucas said. “But I trust you.”

There was silence after that, long enough that even from outside the glass, you could feel the tension humming through the air. Lucas finally stood up, gave a curt nod, and walked out of the office.

The door shut softly behind him.

Out on the sidewalk, Pony had rolled down the car window, Cherry leaning in close beside him.

“How bad was it?” Cherry asked when she saw Lucas coming.

Lucas shrugged, but his face was pale under the sunset.

“Dan’s… trying something new,” Lucas said. “Guess we’ll see if it sticks.”

Cherry exchanged a glance with Pony.

“You think he means it?” Cherry asked.

Lucas gave a tired smile.

“Dan Scott?” Lucas said. “I don’t know if that guy even knows what he means half the time.”

Soda caught up beside him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“You handled yourself, man,” Soda said. “Better than I would’ve.”

I smirked.

“Same here,” I said. “I’d’ve told him to shove his ‘cardiovascular rehab’ somewhere real creative.”

That made Lucas laugh, a short one, but it was something.

“Yeah, I bet you would,” Lucas said.

The group started walking back toward the café, the light fading into that pink-purple haze over Tree Hill’s streets. Pony slipped his hand into Cherry’s, and she didn’t even hesitate this time. They’d gotten past that stage of secret glances and quiet nerves. Now it was easy, open, real.

Dally glanced back and noticed it.

“You two keep gettin’ mushier by the day,” Dally teased.

Cherry grinned.

“You love it,” Cherry said.

I whistled low.

“Don’t listen to him, dollface,” I teased. “Dally’s just jealous he ain’t got himself a Cherry.”

Pony blushed so fast it made Cherry giggle, her shoulder brushing his.

“You’re impossible,” Pony muttered at me.

“Yeah,” I said with a grin, “but I’m entertaining.”

As they rounded the corner toward the café, Steve called out from behind them.

“You think Dan’s really changed?” Steve asked.

Soda shrugged.

“I’ve seen guys try to turn their lives around,” Soda said. “Sometimes they mean it. Sometimes it’s just talk.”

I shoved my hands in my pockets, watching the sky fade into twilight.

“Either way,” I said, “Tree Hill’s never quiet for long. Something always comes next.”

Pony turned, his arm brushing Cherry’s.

“Guess we’ll deal with it when it does,” Pony said.

Cherry smiled softly.

“Together,” Cherry said.

And for a second, watching them, this strange little family from Tulsa stitched into the fabric of this new town, I felt like maybe they really could.

Chapter Text

Chapter 52

Steve’s POV

Dan’s office smelled like polish and old money, that sharp, sterile scent of someone who needed to control everything down to the air they breathed. The blinds were half-shut, cutting the sunlight into narrow stripes across the desk. I leaned in the doorway, watching Lucas hesitate before stepping inside.

The dealership was quieter than usual, almost hollow without Dan’s voice barking orders or the rumble of customers coming and going. Keith had things running smoother, steadier, but there was still a strange tension in the air, the kind you could feel in your chest before a storm broke.

Lucas stood there for a second, the key Dan had told him about dangling between his fingers. He glanced over at me.

“You don’t have to hang around, Steve,” Lucas said. “This won’t take long.”

“Yeah, right,” I said. “You think I’m gonna miss a chance to watch you poke around in your old man’s secret stash? Not a chance.”

Lucas gave me this half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Just… don’t touch anything,” Lucas said.

Lucas crouched by the desk, pulled open the bottom drawer, and ran his hand underneath. A faint tap-tap and the sound of tape peeling away, then the small silver key came loose in his fingers. Lucas fit it into the lock box on the floor and twisted. The click echoed through the office, sharp and final.

Inside, it wasn’t money or paperwork like I expected, not at first. Just a manila envelope, a few folded newspaper clippings, and an old photograph facedown on top.

Lucas frowned, sliding the photo free. He turned it over slowly, and I saw his expression change, like someone had just reached inside and twisted something raw.

It was a picture of him. Must’ve been six, maybe seven years old. Standing in a little league jersey, arms crossed, grinning that same crooked grin he still had now. The edges were worn soft, like it had been handled a hundred times.

“What the hell…” Lucas whispered. He set it down carefully, then lifted another, him and Karen at the park, Lucas holding an ice cream cone, Dan nowhere in sight. The next was from a newspaper: “Local Youth Basketball Champ Takes Home County Title - Lucas Scott, MVP.” There were half a dozen more, all of them about Lucas. His games. His wins. His life.

But the kicker? Every single one was clipped, dated, and neatly stacked like they’d been cataloged, Dan’s handwriting on the back of some, just a single initial: D.S.

Lucas sat back on his heels, eyes glassy.

“He… kept all this?” Lucas said in surprise.

I crouched beside him, looking over the mess.

“Guess the guy’s got a sentimental side buried under all that steel plating,” I said.

Lucas shook his head, voice low.

“No,” Lucas said. “He made me think I didn’t matter. That I was some mistake. All this time, he was…” Lucas’s voice cracked, and he looked down at the photos again. “...watching.”

It hit me then, all that bitterness between them, all that distance. Maybe Dan had been watching from the sidelines all along, too proud or too broken to step in.

“You gonna tell him you found it?” I asked.

Lucas stared at the lock box like it had started breathing.

“What would I even say?” Lucas asked.

“Maybe nothin’,” I said quietly. “Sometimes silence says more than words.”

Lucas gave me a small, grateful look. Then, slowly, he gathered the pictures back up and tucked them into the envelope, sealing it like he was putting the past back in its coffin.

When we stepped out of the office, the afternoon sun hit us hard. Pony, Cherry, and Soda were outside the showroom window, pretending to help Keith move a few tires but really watching us.

“Everything okay in there?” Cherry asked.

Lucas hesitated, glancing at the envelope in his hand.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “Just… unfinished business.”

Cherry nodded, eyes soft but curious. She didn’t press, she never did. Pony slid his arm around her waist, the motion so natural now it made Soda grin from across the lot.

“Would ya look at that,” Soda teased, wiping grease off his hands. “Our little brother’s all grown up. Holding hands and everything.”

Cherry rolled her eyes.

“Jealous, Curtis?” Cherry teased.

“Of Ponyboy? Always,” Soda said with a wink.

Pony blushed crimson but didn’t let go of her.

“You’re just mad she’s too classy for you, Soda,” Pony teased.

I laughed under my breath. Those two had gotten close fast, quiet but deep. The kind of connection that didn’t need to be loud to be real. Cherry looked at him like he was something worth believing in, and Pony looked at her like she was something he never thought he’d deserve.

Dally and Johnny pulled up not long after in the truck, Johnny riding shotgun and Dally still grinning like a wolf with a secret. Two-Bit leaned out the back.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Two-Bit yelled. “You two done with the Hallmark moment?”

Cherry flipped him off good-naturedly, and Pony just shook his head, smiling like an idiot. The sound of it all, the laughter, the engines, the everyday noise, felt like life going on, even with everything happening around us.

Later that night, the gang gathered at the café. Karen had closed early, but she kept the lights low, the windows glowing amber against the dark. The place felt warm, homey in a way I hadn’t known since Tulsa.

Lucas sat with the envelope between his hands, quiet. When Karen finally asked how his day went, he told her, not everything, just enough.

“I went to see him,” Lucas said softly. “He said he wanted to start over. That he’s sorry for… everything. I didn’t say anything. I just left.”

Karen’s eyes filled, pride and pain mixed together.

“You didn’t owe him anything,” Karen said.

“I know,” Lucas said . “But I needed to see it for myself. I needed to know he was still the same man… or if maybe he wasn’t.”

The table was silent for a long time. Outside, the wind rattled the café sign. Inside, Pony and Cherry shared a quiet glance, her hand brushing his under the table, his thumb tracing her knuckles. Soda caught the moment and smiled to himself, like he was watching something right begin.

Finally, Darry spoke up from his seat at the end.

“Sometimes people don’t change,” Darry said, voice low but steady. “Sometimes they try to. Either way, it’s on them. You did what you had to do.”

Lucas nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “Maybe.”

After dinner, Pony walked Cherry home. They stopped halfway down the block, where the streetlights flickered gold across the pavement. From where I stood on the Curtis porch, I could see them, her laughing softly, him looking at her like she was the only thing in the world.

Cherry leaned in first. It wasn’t some movie kiss, it was soft, almost shy, but real. When they finally pulled apart, Pony was grinning like he’d just been handed the world.

Johnny, sitting next to me on the steps, smiled quietly.

“Guess they’re really in love, huh?” Johnny said.

“Yeah,” I said, watching them disappear into the night. “Guess so.”

Dally stretched behind us, smirking.

“About time one of us got somethin’ good,” Dally said.

Soda came out then, flipping the porch light off.

“You’d better hope Darry don’t see ‘em from the window,” Soda said. “He’ll start polishing his shotgun.”

Johnny laughed, and I did too, but somewhere deep down, I felt that weird calm again. The kind that comes right before everything shifts. Tree Hill had that effect, one day peace, the next day chaos.
The next morning, Lucas drove back to the dealership, early light spilling through the blinds. Dan was there, standing now, looking stronger than he had in weeks, his eyes clearer but colder too.
When Lucas set the envelope down on the desk, Dan looked up, surprised.

“I went through the lock box,” Lucas said simply. “I saw what was in there.”

Dan’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t interrupt.

“You kept everything,” Lucas continued. “Photos, articles, even stuff Mom didn’t know about.”

Dan’s voice was quiet when he answered.

“You’re my son, Lucas,” Dan said.

“You had a funny way of showing it,” Lucas said, then turned to leave.

He didn’t look back. Just walked out into the sunlight.

And for all the darkness that came before, I swear that moment, the quiet of that door closing behind him, felt like a kind of victory.

That night, back at the Curtis house, we sat around the table again. Soda flipped the radio dial until some soft Carolina rock hummed through the speakers. Pony was on the couch, Cherry’s head on his shoulder, her hair spilling across his chest. They looked easy, settled. Right.

Darry leaned back in his chair, eyes tired but peaceful.

“You boys notice it?” Darry asked suddenly.

“Notice what?” Two-Bit said, mouth full of pie.

“How everything’s changing,” Darry said quietly. “Tree Hill. Us. Them.”

The room went still for a second, the kind of silence that says yeah, we notice.

Soda smiled faintly.

“Change ain’t all bad, Dar,” Soda said.

“No,” Darry said, glancing toward Pony and Cherry with the smallest smile. “No, it ain’t.”

I looked around that table, at this strange family we’d built, Tulsa ghosts turned Tree Hill stories, and felt something I hadn’t in a long time.

Hope.

Real, steady hope.

And for that night, it was enough.

Tree Hill mornings had this strange rhythm, slow and calm, but always a heartbeat under it, like something unexpected was waiting around the corner.

That next day, I found myself walking up the familiar steps of Lucas’s house with Pony and Cherry, who were still in that new-relationship haze where every laugh meant something, every look lingered too long. Soda had tagged along for the ride, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, smirking at them the whole way.

The door was open, not just unlocked, but wide open, like the house itself was inviting trouble. Inside, we heard muffled laughter and a weird scraping sound coming from upstairs.

“Bet you five bucks it’s not homework,” Soda muttered.

We walked in, and the scene stopped us cold.

Mouth McFadden, duct-taped to a chair like some kind of science project gone wrong. sat dead center in Lucas’s room. Skills and Fergie were circling him with black markers, drawing bullseyes all over the silver tape.

“You boys ever heard of therapy?” I said, leaning in the doorway.

Skills grinned without looking up.

“We’re helpin’ him work on his fear of confinement,” Skills said.

Mouth muffled something that sounded like, “This is illegal!” through the tape over his mouth.

That’s when Haley walked in, eyebrows raised and eyes wide, holding a bag of books.

“Okay…” Haley said slowly. “Am I interrupting some weird guy ritual I’ll never understand?”

Lucas looked up from the desk where he was pretending to read a playbook.

“Pretty much,” Lucas said.

Haley laughed, shaking her head.

“Good, at least I came to the right place,” Haley said. “I need to talk to you for a second.”

Skills snapped his fingers and looked at Fergie.

“Yo, man, time for that grocery run,” Skills said.

“Eggs,” Fergie said, pointing like it was code for get out before she starts talking feelings.

The two of them bolted. Mouth groaned through the tape as they disappeared down the hall, chair wobbling slightly.

Haley and Lucas exchanged a look. She tilted her head toward the still-bound Mouth.

Lucas sighed.

“Fergie, get back here and move him!” Lucas called.

A second later, Fergie poked his head in again.

“What?” Fergie said. “He’s safe.”

“Fergie,” Lucas warned.

“Alright, alright.” Fergie grabbed the back of the chair and started rolling Mouth toward the door.

“Why don’t you roll me down the street and hit me on the fly?” Mouth mumbled through the tape.

“Not a bad idea,” Fergie said, disappearing down the hallway again.

Haley exhaled, amused.

“Boys,” Haley muttered under her breath.

Lucas turned toward her, smile fading into something softer.

“What’s up, Hales?” Lucas asks.

Haley hesitated, twisting the strap of her bag.

“Nathan’s friends are planning this bachelor party thing…” Haley trailed off. “Which is ridiculous because we’re already married, but…”

Lucas’s eyebrows rose.

“You’re nervous,” Lucas said.

“Maybe,” Haley said, biting her lip. “I just… I know it’s stupid, but I don’t want it to turn into one of those nights.”

“You mean the kind that involves bad decisions, bad music, and bad hangovers?” Lucas asked.

Haley laughed weakly.

“Exactly,” Haley said.

Lucas leaned against the desk.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Lucas said.

“You will?” Haley asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Lucas said. “Someone’s gotta make sure he doesn’t end up on the roof with Tim again.”

That made Haley finally smile.

“Thanks, Luke,” Haley said. “You’re a good friend.”

Before Lucas could answer, Skills popped back in, grinning ear to ear.

“Yo, we just set up the trash cans like bowling pins!” Skills said.

Haley blinked.

“You what?” Haley said.

“We’re gonna roll Mouth into ‘em, see if we get a strike,” Skills said.

Lucas groaned.

“Skills…” Lucas said.

But before he could finish, a loud BANG echoed from downstairs.

Soda flinched.

“That didn’t sound like a strike,” Soda said.

Pony laughed, already heading for the stairs.

“Let’s go make sure nobody’s dead,” Pony said.

Cherry followed him, shaking her head, that half-smile she always had when Pony got pulled into chaos. She brushed his arm as they reached the bottom step, small, quiet gestures that seemed to speak louder than most people’s words.

Dally and Two-Bit were sitting in the kitchen when we got there, both trying to look innocent but failing spectacularly.

“Okay,” Darry’s voice boomed from the living room doorway. “What blew up?”

Two-Bit raised a finger, as if he were confessing in church.

“Wasn’t an explosion, technically,” Two-Bit said. “More like… a test.”

Dally smirked.

“We were seein’ how flammable that old football really was,” Dally said.

“Turns out,” Johnny said from behind the counter, “very.”

The smoke alarm beeped weakly, a puff of gray smoke rising from the trash can near the sink.

Soda coughed, waving a hand in front of his face.

“You idiots tryin’ to burn down Tree Hill or just the kitchen?” Soda asked.

“Just testin’ physics,” Two-Bit said proudly.

Darry pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re gonna test my patience if you keep this up,” Darry said.

Cherry leaned against Pony, laughing quietly.

“How are you guys not on the evening news by now?” Cherry asked.

“Give it time,” Pony said, smirking.

Later that afternoon, we all ended up at the River Court again. Nathan was practicing jump shots while Lucas passed him the ball. Haley sat on the bench with Cherry, both of them watching, Haley still chewing on her lip, clearly distracted.

Cherry nudged her.

“You thinking about the party?” Cherry asked.

“Yeah,” Haley admitted. “It’s silly, right?”

Cherry smiled.

“Not really. It’s normal to be nervous,” Cherry said. “But Nathan loves you. That’s what matters.”

Pony jogged over, grabbed a stray ball, and tossed it back toward Nathan.

“He’s lucky to have her,” Pony said over his shoulder.

Haley smiled at him.

“Thanks, Pony,” Haley said.

Cherry’s hand found his as the wind picked up, and she rested her head lightly on his shoulder. It was small, private, but the kind of quiet closeness that made everyone else around them soften just a little.

Even Dally, watching from the bleachers, gave a low whistle.

“Damn, kid,” Dally muttered. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Pony rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the grin.

Darry sat beside me, watching Nathan and Lucas start another set.

“They’re finally figuring each other out,” Darry said quietly.

“Yeah,” I said. “Looks like maybe the Scotts aren’t the only ones figuring things out.”

Darry glanced at Pony and Cherry, then nodded.

“Long as it’s good for him,” Darry said.

“It is,” I said. “She’s good for all of us.”

And for once, it felt true, like every little piece of the chaos in Tree Hill was starting to fit, just barely, but enough to keep us moving forward.

That night, we all crashed at the Curtis house again. Soda strummed a guitar on the couch while Johnny and Two-Bit argued about what movie to watch. Dally stole the last slice of pie and claimed it was a “tax on idiocy.”

Cherry had her legs draped over Pony’s lap, tracing circles on the back of his hand while he read a book. They weren’t loud about it, but it was impossible not to notice the quiet ease of two people who fit together.

“Y’know,” Soda said, tuning a string, “if this keeps up, we’re gonna have to get a bigger house.”

Darry chuckled.

“Or start charging rent,” Darry said.

Pony looked up from his book, deadpan.

“You can take it out of my nonexistent paycheck,” Pony said.

Everyone laughed.

The sound filled the house, real laughter, easy and warm. It felt like home.

And for a while, that was enough.

Chapter Text

Chapter 53

Dally’s POV

Hospitals always rubbed Dally the wrong way. Too clean, too bright, and too full of people pretending they weren’t scared.

I leaned against the wall outside Dan Scott’s room, arms folded, pretending like I was just waiting on someone instead of keeping an eye on things. Inside, I could hear the doctor giving Dan the rundown, all clinical and careful, like someone explaining the rules of a game they already knew Dan wasn’t gonna win.

“Medication will treat the symptoms,” the doc said. “But the best treatment for you now is a radical lifestyle change. So we’re gonna put you on a physical-therapy regimen, and you can start that as soon as you’re released the day after tomorrow.”

I shifted my weight, glancing at Soda, who stood beside me, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes flicking between the doctor and Dan through the small window. Pony sat in a chair against the wall, Cherry beside him, their knees brushing every now and then. They thought no one noticed, but I did. I noticed everything.

Dan’s voice cut through, sharp but strained.

“So, what are we talking about, doc?” Dan asked. “Weights? Treadmill?”

“More like some stretching, short walks,” the doctor said. “You have to understand, Dan, you’re looking at a long road back, and the road is called the rest of your life.”

That one hit hard. I saw it land in Dan’s face, that flicker of panic that people get when they realize they ain’t invincible anymore. Then the doc left, and it was just Deb and Dan, standing in that sterile light that made even the strong look weak.

Deb’s voice softened.

“Um, the hospital gave me the name of their best physical therapist,” Deb said. “And there’s also a nurse who can move in with you at the beach house.”

Dan’s reply came quiet, a tone I had never heard from him before.

“I wanna come home, Deb,” Dan said.

The words hung in the air, heavy like fog. I caught Darry’s eye across the hall, both of them recognizing that same desperate note, the one they’d heard from people trying to fix something they’d already broken past repair.

Cherry reached for Pony’s hand then, subtle, fingers brushing against his before linking together. Pony’s face softened, his usual restless energy quieting. It was something small but solid, like an anchor in all that chaos.

“Think he means it?” Steve muttered from where he stood near the vending machine.

I shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter if he means it,” I said. “He’s the kind that don’t know how to follow through.”

Johnny, leaning against the doorframe, frowned a little.

“Maybe this’ll change him,” Johnny said. “People change when they’re scared enough.”

“Maybe,” I said, though I didn’t sound convinced. “But fear don’t last long. Not for guys like him.”

Inside the room, Deb’s face looked torn, between pity and regret. Between love and hate. And I understood that, too. I’d seen it in the mirror enough times to know what it looked like.

When we left the hospital, the evening air was cooler. The sun was bleeding out over Tree Hill, soft gold fading to bruised purple. I lit a cigarette as we walked to the parking lot, the smoke curling up into the dimming sky.

Soda nudged me.

“You don’t gotta smoke that here, man,” Soda said.

“Yeah, I do,” I muttered. “Hospitals make me twitchy.”

Pony and Cherry walked a few steps ahead, their hands still linked. Cherry’s hair caught the last of the sunlight, all copper and gold, and I caught Pony sneaking glances at her when he thought no one was looking. It was sweet, in a way that almost hurt. Like watching someone touch fire for the first time, not knowing yet that it burns.

“You ever think,” I said suddenly, mostly to myself, “that maybe Tree Hill’s got a way of messin’ with people’s heads?”

Two-Bit snorted.

“You mean makin’ ‘em crazy?” Two-Bit teased.

“Nah,” I said. “Just… makin’ ‘em care too much.”

Johnny gave me a look, small, knowing.

“That’s not such a bad thing, Dal,” Johnny said.

“Yeah, it is,” I said quietly. “It always is.”

WE reached the Curtis house not long after sunset. The streetlights hummed. The kitchen window glowed warm. Darry unlocked the door, the scent of leftovers filling the air, coffee, detergent, something fried. Normal. Familiar.

But even in the easy chatter, I felt something shifting under the surface. Dan Scott was trying to crawl back into the life he’d wrecked. Keith was running a dealership like a man who’d seen both heaven and hell. N athan and Haley were building something fragile, dangerous. And Pony, the kid, he was falling in love, for real this time. Not like the schoolyard crushes or wild, fleeting things they’d all known before. This was deeper. Quieter.

And I, for once, didn’t know whether to warn him or let him have it.

We had split up for the night, some at the shop, some wandering around town, but somehow we all ended up squeezed into Nathan and Haley’s apartment by the time the sun dipped low over Tree Hill. It wasn’t the biggest place, but it had that new-married feel, a mix of laundry detergent, cheap pizza, and something softer underneath, like comfort trying to make a home.

Nathan was on the couch when Tim came bursting out of the bathroom like he’d just discovered cologne for the first time.

“Dude, smell me,” Tim said, grinning like an idiot.

Nathan didn’t even look up from the magazine in his hand.

“Dude, kiss my ass,” Nathan said.

Tim rolled his eyes.

“No, seriously,” Tim said. “I wanna smell nice for the talent that’s coming over later.”

Steve snorted from where he was leaning against the counter.

“Talent, huh?” Steve teased. “That what we’re callin’ it now?”

Nathan smirked.

“Tim, just say the stripper,” Nathan said.

“Fine,” Tim said, sighing dramatically. “The stripper. Alright, which one makes me smell available? I got ‘Flesh’ on this side and, uh, this French stuff on this side.”

Nathan frowned, squinting toward the French bottle.

“That’s not mine,” Nathan said.

Tim looked confused.

“Well, it was in your bathroom,” Tim said.

A voice came from behind him, sharp but playful.

“Oh, Tim, what are you doing with my perfume?” Haley asked.

Haley walked in, her hair pulled up, an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. Tim’s face turned red as he tried to wipe the scent off his neck like he could erase the evidence.

“Oh,” Tim stammered. “This is… your perfume?”

“Uh-huh,” Haley said, hands on her hips. “You smell lovely, by the way.”

Two-Bit and Pony burst out laughing. Johnny elbowed me lightly.

“He’s got the same face you had that time Cherry caught you smokin’ in her dad’s car,” Johnny said.

“Yeah, but I didn’t smell like French flowers,” I muttered, grinning.

Haley turned toward Nathan, kissing him lightly.

“Alright, I’m off,” Haley said. “All the important numbers are by the phone. Police, fire, pimps.”

Nathan raised an eyebrow.

“Thanks for worrying about us,” Nathan said.

“I’m not worried about you,” Haley said with a teasing smile. “Have your fun. Just remember… you’re married now.”

That last part made Soda nudge me with a grin.

“Think anyone’s ever said that to you?” Soda teased.

“Hell no,” I said. “Wouldn’t stick anyway.”

There was a knock at the door, and Tim’s eyes went wide. He practically tripped over the couch in his rush.

“She’s here!” Tim said, eagerly. “Stripper time!”

Tim flung the door open with a flourish, and froze.

Lucas stood there, hands in his jacket pockets, eyebrows raised.

“Not the thrill it used to be, huh?” Lucas said.

Tim deflated like a balloon.

“Oh,” Tim said, defeated. “It’s just you.”

Haley laughed, giving Lucas a quick hug.

“Okay, I left some ones on the counter in case you don’t have any change,” Haley said. “Don’t spend it all in one… place.”

Lucas smiled, shaking his head as she left.

“What’s wrong with Dim?” Lucas asked, stepping inside.

“Oh, don’t take it personally,” Nathan said. “He thought you were the stripper.”

Lucas grinned, leaning back against the wall.

“Hey, we prefer to be called exotic dancers,” Lucas teased.

“Nice,” Nathan said with a laugh.

The guys all cracked up, even Darry, who’d been trying to keep a straight face in the corner like the responsible one, let out a small snort.

“You boys are a damn circus,” Darry muttered, though there was a faint smile tugging at his mouth.

Before anyone could add to the joke, there was another knock at the door. Tim bolted again, throwing his arms up like he was welcoming a celebrity.

“Round two!” Tim said. “This one’s gotta be her!”

Tim yanked the door open to reveal a delivery guy holding a bag of takeout.

“Who the hell are you?” Tim blurted.

The guy blinked.

“Where’s the stripper?” The guy asked.

The whole room erupted. Two-Bit was laughing so hard he fell backward onto the couch. Johnny clapped a hand over his mouth, trying not to wheeze. Cherry hid her face in Pony’s shoulder, giggling uncontrollably, while Pony grinned wide, his arm sliding protectively around her shoulders.

Steve shook his head, grinning.

“Only in Tree Hill,” Steve said.

“Or anywhere Tim is,” I added, flicking ash from my cigarette into a cup on the table. “Man’s got a radar for trouble.”

Nathan rubbed his temples.

“You guys are gonna get me arrested before the night’s over,” Nathan said.

Lucas looked at him, half-smiling.

“You’ve already been arrested,” Lucas teased. “What’s left?”

That earned another round of laughter, the kind that filled up the small apartment with warmth and noise and the sound of home. I leaned back in my chair, eyes scanning the group. Soda and Steve were still laughing, Two-Bit was mock-interviewing the delivery guy about his “stripping experience,” and Cherry and Pony, those two looked like the calm in the middle of the storm. Their hands found each other easily now, no hesitation, no pretending. Pony looked steadier beside her, like she made the noise of the world fade out a little.

It hit me in a quiet way, the way peace sometimes did, sneaking up on me when I wasn’t looking for it.

Tree Hill was still a mess, people breaking and fixing each other in equal measure, but for a few minutes, it didn’t feel so bad.

The doorbell rang again.

Tim jumped up.

“Third time’s the charm!” Tim shouted.

Lucas groaned.

“If this is another delivery guy, I’m leaving,” Lucas said.

Darry stood, chuckling.

“Nah, you’re stayin’,” Darry said. “Someone’s gotta make sure these idiots don’t burn down the apartment.”

And I, watching it all, thought that maybe this, the laughter, the noise, the ridiculousness, was what held them together. Even in a town full of heartbreak, they still found reasons to laugh.

Even if it was just at Tim.

Chapter Text

Chapter 54

Johnny’s POV

The rumble of the party bus rolled through downtown Tree Hill like a thundercloud. Even from the outside, you could hear the laughter, the squeals, and Brooke’s voice echoing like a celebration waiting to spill into the night.

“Haley’s never gonna forget this,” Pony said beside me, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets. He was grinning, one of those rare, easy smiles that reached his eyes. Cherry stood beside him, her hair catching the neon lights from the passing shops, hand tucked into his like it belonged there.

“She better not,” Dally muttered. “Brooke rented a whole damn bus. You could feed half of Tulsa with what that probably cost.”

Soda chuckled from the curb.

“You just don’t get it, Dal,” Soda said. “This is Tree Hill, everything’s bigger, louder, and way more dramatic.”

Two-Bit leaned forward, peering through the tinted glass.

“And a lot more entertaining,” Two-Bit added with a smirk. “Is that champagne? Man, Brooke Davis don’t mess around.”

Inside the bus, the girls’ laughter bubbled up again. Haley’s voice carried through the crack of the open window.

“Brooke, this is crazy!” Haley said.

Peyton’s voice followed, calm and teasing.

“And by crazy, she means thank you,” Peyton said.

Cherry squeezed Pony’s hand and smiled softly.

“See?” Cherry said. “They’re trying to make her forget the gossip. Brooke’s got a heart under all that glitter.”

Pony looked at her, really looked at her. The way his thumb brushed over her knuckles, it wasn’t shy anymore. It was steady. Familiar.

“Kind of like you,” Pony murmured.

Cherry blushed, rolling her eyes, but she didn’t pull away.

“You’re getting better at that, Curtis,” Cherry teased.

Across the street, Darry leaned against the truck with his arms crossed, watching the whole thing.

“Tree Hill sure throws different kinds of parties,” Darry muttered to Steve, who stood beside him.

“Yeah,” Steve said, smirking. “In Tulsa, we just got busted for hangin’ behind the DX with a six-pack. Here they got buses, blindfolds, and champagne.”

I grinned a little at that. I couldn’t help it, watching them all like this, laughing and fitting in, it felt like the world had softened around the edges. Maybe Tree Hill really had changed something in all of them.

The bus doors swung open then, Brooke appearing in the doorway in a flash of sequins, waving her arm like a ringmaster.

“Alright, girls!” Brooke said. “Tree Hill’s finest, let’s roll!”'

Haley laughed, holding her glass.

“A toast, to a nice, normal bridal shower,” Haley said.

Peyton raised her flute.

“To nice,” Peyton said.

Brooke smirked.

“And normal,” Brooke said.

They all clinked glasses before Peyton pulled a small black bag from behind her seat.

“Oh, and speaking of normal…” Peyton said.

Haley blinked. Haley asked.

“What’s that?”

Peyton smiled slyly.

“Just a nice, normal blindfold,” Peyton said.

Brooke leaned in.

“For the nice, normal guest of honor,” Brooke said.

Even from the sidewalk, Johnny could see Haley’s nervous grin as the girls tied the blindfold in place. The music kicked up again, the bus jolting to life.

Soda let out a low whistle as it pulled away.

“Guess that’s our cue,” Soda said. “Bachelor party’s calling.”

Dally tossed his cigarette, crushing it beneath his boot.

“About time,” Dally said. “Let’s go make sure Nathan and the boys don’t burn the place down.”

Two-Bit clapped me on the shoulder.

“You ready for round two, Johnnycake?” Two-Bit asked. “I heard they got beer and bowling balls involved.”

I chuckled.

“Long as nobody’s throwing either at me,” I said.

As we climbed into the truck, Pony lingered a second longer with Cherry, watching the bus fade down the street, lights glittering against the night.

“You sure you don’t want to go with them?” Pony asked softly.

Cherry shook her head, smiling.

“I’d rather stay here, with you,” Cherry said.

Pony looked like he wanted to say something more, but instead, he leaned in, close enough that the streetlight framed them in gold, and kissed her. Slow, certain, like they both finally knew this wasn’t just a crush anymore.

Darry caught it out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t say a word. Just smiled faintly, shaking his head.

“Kid’s growin’ up,” Darry murmured.

As they headed toward Nathan’s apartment, the sound of the bus faded behind them, Brooke’s laughter echoing somewhere in the distance, the girls’ voices spilling out into the night.

I looked out the truck window, the lights of Tree Hill streaking by. I couldn’t help but think that for the first time since Tulsa, everything felt... right.

Not perfect. Not easy. But real.

That may be enough.

Nathan’s apartment smelled like pizza, pretzels, and trouble.

The TV glowed blue in the dim room, the flicker of the video game lighting up the faces of Nathan, Tim, Lucas, and some delivery guy who looked way too comfortable sitting cross-legged on the carpet like he owned the place.

The Tulsa guys had spread out. Soda and Two-Bit leaned against the kitchen counter, Dally perched backward on a chair, Steve on the floor near the couch, and Pony and Cherry squeezed together in the armchair, her legs tucked up beside him. Darry stood in the corner, arms folded, already looking like he wanted to revoke everyone’s fun privileges.

Tim leaned toward Nathan, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“You sure you know this guy?” Tim asked.

Nathan didn’t even look up from the controller.

“He works with me at Hot and Twisted,” Nathan said.

The delivery guy rolled his eyes.

“Great,” The delivery guy said. “Even the losers don’t know me.”

Two-Bit laughed, holding his drink.

“Welcome to Tree Hill, pal,” Two-Bit said. “The land of dramatic confessions and really bad parties.”

Tim pointed at the guy.

“Just read the damn quiz,” Tim said.

I frowned.

“Quiz?” I asked.

The delivery guy flipped open a magazine.

“When your boyfriend kisses you, he - A…” The delivery guy said.

Lucas looked up, deadpan.

“What the hell are you reading?” Lucas asked.

Tim grinned.

“CosmoGirl,” Tim said. “Keep going.”

The delivery guy shrugged.

“When your boyfriend kisses you, he, A. looks deeply into your eyes, B. closes his eyes, C. cradles your head softly, or D. unhooks your bra,” The delivery guy read.

Two-Bit whistled low.

“Well damn, that escalated,” Two-Bit said.

Tim slammed his hand down on the coffee table.

“It’s D,” Tim said. “It’s definitely D, you go for the bra.”

Nathan snorted.

“Now, Tim, you realize you’re supposed to be answering as a girl,” Nathan said.

Tim threw his hands up.

“I know…and I’d want a boyfriend who isn’t afraid to go up my shirt,” Tim said.

Lucas looked at him, unimpressed.

“And hopefully someday, you’ll find him,” Lucas said.

Cherry laughed so hard she almost spilled her soda. Pony grinned, nudging her knee with his.

“Welcome to bachelor parties, huh?” Pony said.

Cherry smirked.

“I’ve been to circus acts with less confusion,” Cherry said.

The delivery guy groaned.

“Okay, this sucks,” The delivery guy said. “What kind of bachelor party is this, huh? No booze, no strippers. I thought you guys had like the best parties. This is lame.”

Tim sat forward, eyes bright with misguided confidence.

“Dude, my brother’s setting up the stripper,” Tim said. “We ain’t gonna be disappointed.”

Lucas crossed his arms.

“I just hope the stripper’s not a guy,” Lucas said. “I remember the last time you were on stripper duty.”

Tim scowled.

“Alright, I wasn’t gonna crack this out till later, but what the hell,” Tim said. “Let’s set the mood with a little something from my dad’s porno stash.”

Soda nearly choked on his drink.

“Oh, great,” Soda said. “Nothing says class like Tim’s dad’s VHS tapes.”

Tim ignored him, sliding a tape into the player with the kind of dramatic flair that only spelled disaster. “I was up late one night, and I heard my dad watching this. The chick in it goes absolutely nuts.”

Dally groaned.

“This is about to get real bad, real fast,” Dally muttered.

“Sweet,” the delivery guy muttered, leaning forward eagerly.

The static hissed, then the screen flickered, some overly cheesy music kicked in, and then…

“Tim,” Nathan said slowly, eyes narrowing. “Is that your stepmom?”

Tim froze.

“Yeah,” Tim said.

The room went silent.

The delivery guy burst out laughing.

“Dude, your mom’s a slut,” The delivery guy said.

Tim glared.

“Ha ha,” Tim said. “Stepmom.”

Two-Bit practically fell off the counter laughing.

“This is gold,” Two-Bit said. “Tree Hill never disappoints.”

Darry pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’m too old for this crap,” Darry said.

Cherry leaned closer to Pony, whispering.

“We should go check on the girls before this gets worse,” Cherry said.

Pony nodded.

“Yeah,” Pony said. “Before Tim finds another tape.”

Soda smirked.

“Good call,” Soda said. “Let’s make sure Haley’s party’s not burning down the other half of Tree Hill.”

“Yeah,” Dally said, standing. “At least the girls’ chaos probably doesn’t involve someone’s stepmom.”

The gang grabbed their jackets, trying to keep straight faces as they filed out. Lucas caught their eyes as they headed toward the door.

“Tell Haley we’re all still alive,” Lucas said dryly.

I looked back and grinned.

“No promises,” I said.

Cherry slipped her hand into Pony’s as they stepped into the night air, her thumb brushing over his.

“That was… something,” Cherry said, half laughing.

Pony laughed under his breath.

“Tree Hill’s definitely not Tulsa,” Pony said.

Cherry smiled softly, leaning her head against his shoulder as they walked.

“No,” Cherry said. “But I think I kinda like it here.”

I walked a few paces behind them, shaking my head with a quiet grin. I wasn’t sure what was crazier, the bachelor party gone wrong, or the fact that, somehow, all of them were building new lives here.
As we rounded the corner toward the glow of the girls’ bus lights in the distance, I thought about how much had changed since they’d first come to Tree Hill.

Love, friendship, chaos, it was all tangled together now.

And for once, it didn’t feel so bad being caught in it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 55

Pony’s POV

The fluorescent lights of the boutique hit like a flashbulb, bright, pink, and glinting off satin and lace in every direction. Brooke was in her element, strutting through the aisles like she owned the place, Peyton trailing behind her with that half-grin that said this is going to go off the rails in about five seconds.

Haley, on the other hand, looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole.

“What is this?” she asked, her voice rising a note.

Brooke spun around, holding up a black lace slip on a hanger.

“This is a lingerie fashion show, girlie,” Brooke said. “We figured since you’re married now, you need to wear something a little less conservative for Nathan. Something a little more…”

“Slutty,” Peyton finished, deadpan.

Brooke beamed.

“That’s it!” Brooke said.

Haley’s eyes went wide.

“No,” Haley groaned.

Cherry leaned closer to me, smirking.

“You gotta admit… they’re not wrong about the presentation,” Cherry said.

I nudged her shoulder lightly.

“You planning to take notes?” I asked.

“Maybe,” Cherry said, playful, eyes flicking toward me. “If you’re lucky.”

I couldn’t tell if my pulse sped up because of her teasing or because of how her hand brushed mine a second later, soft, deliberate, but real.

Brooke clapped her hands.

“Hit it, girls!” Brooke said.

And just like that, music kicked in, something poppy and unapologetic. Two sales associates stepped out from behind a curtain wearing lace, satin, and confidence, strutting the “runway” that ran down the center of the store. Haley’s jaw dropped.

“Brooke!” Haley hissed.

Brooke just grinned.

“You’re welcome!” Brooke said.

Soda and Two-Bit were near the entrance, trying to look casual and failing miserably. Soda was leaning on a display of perfume samples, biting back a grin; Two-Bit, meanwhile, looked like he’d been caught between heaven and a heart attack.

Dally whistled low under his breath.

“Tree Hill sure knows how to throw a bridal party,” Dally muttered.

Johnny elbowed him.

“You’re gonna get kicked out before the second model hits the end of the runway,” Johnny said.

Steve was already leaning against a mannequin, pretending not to stare while mouthing the word damn under his breath.

Haley folded her arms.

“You guys brought them here?” Haley asked.

Brooke shrugged.

“They followed us! I didn’t invite the peanut gallery,” Brooke said.

I looked over just in time to see Cherry shake her head, amused.

“This is chaos,” Cherry said softly.

“Yeah,” I said. “But it’s kind of our chaos, isn’t it?”

Cherry turned toward me, smiling, eyes catching the warm light off the chandeliers above. The noise, the laughter, the music, it all faded for a second. Just her, me, and that moment where it felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

Cherry leaned in close.

“You think Haley’s ever gonna forgive Brooke for this?” Cherry asked.

I chuckled.

“Not a chance,” I said.
Brooke was now holding up a pink babydoll and waving it like a victory flag.

“Okay, Haley James Scott,” Brooke announced. “If you won’t pick something, we will!”

“You married a basketball player,” Peyton added. “He’s seen you shoot three-pointers, not wear one.”

“You guys are insane,” Haley groaned.

“And we thank you for it!” Two-Bit called from the back.

Darry, who’d come by to pick us up after his shift, stepped into the doorway just in time to hear that. He froze, crossed his arms, and said in that quiet tone that meant business.

“Two-Bit,” Darry said. “Outside.”

Two-Bit froze mid-grin.

“Uh, right” Two-Bit said. “Gotta… hydrate.” He scurried toward the exit.

Darry gave the rest of us the look, the one that could stop a bar fight cold.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Darry warned.

Soda raised his hands, laughing.

“Hey, we’re innocent, big brother,” Soda said. “We’re just chaperones.”

“Sure,” Darry said. “And I’m Santa Claus.”

As he turned to leave, Cherry slipped her hand into mine again, quietly. I didn’t even think before I laced my fingers through hers.

Haley finally caved, laughing despite herself.

“Fine!” Haley said. “But if Nathan ever finds out about this, I’m blaming all of you.”

Brooke squealed, triumphant.

“Mission accomplished!” Brooke said.

The music swelled again, the shop echoing with laughter, teasing, and flashes of color, fabric, light, and joy twisting together in one wild evening.

Cherry leaned in.

You know, for a bunch of greasers and Tree Hill kids, we fit together better than I thought,” Cherry said.

I looked at her, really looked.

“Guess we do,” I said quietly.

And when she smiled, her hand still in mine, it didn’t matter how ridiculous the night had been. Everything about it felt right.

If you ever told me a bridal shower could turn into something like this, I’d have called you crazy.

The store was already wild enough, but then Brooke decided to up the ante. She stood outside the dressing room door, tapping her high heel against the floor like she was waiting for a fashion model to step onto a runway.

“Haley,” Brooke called out, her voice sing-song. “Are you coming out, kitten?”

From behind the curtain, Haley’s voice came out shaky.

“I am not coming out,” Haley said.

Peyton crossed her arms, smirking.

“Come on out, Hales,” Peyton said.

“No!” Haley said.

Peyton’s grin widened.

“See, if you don’t come out, then we’re coming in,” Peyton said.

There was a pause, the sound of fabric rustling, and then, Haley stepped out.

The room erupted.

Haley James Scott, wearing black and pink leopard print lingerie, her hair tied up in pigtails, face red as a cherry tomato. Brooke gasped dramatically, throwing her arms in the air like she’d just seen the Second Coming. The sales reps clapped, Peyton whistled, and even Cherry, standing next to me, couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.

“Oh, my God,” Soda said under his breath, eyes wide. “Nathan’s gonna die.”

Two-Bit started to choke on a mint from the sample bowl, laughing so hard he nearly fell over.

Haley tugged on the hem of the lace skirt that didn’t even cover much.