Thursday, April 8, 2010

"There's another boy here, mom," Stiles says to the gravestone he is currently kneeling in front of him. "He's here a lot, too."

Another boy, around Stile's age, leans against a headstone a few rows away.

"There's always some kid here. I wonder who he's visiting. God, you'd laugh at the ridiculous plaid he always wears, Cam," the boy says, looking in Stiles's direction.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

"Hi, mom," Stiles says, resuming his regular spot on his knees in front of her grave. "I've been good. Dad's been really busy lately. It's been kind of lonely. I know he doesn't really have a choice about working so much, but I just – I just wish I could see him more, you know?" Stiles breaks off with a chuckle and a small smile begins to form as he says, "Of course you know. You always knew everything. I bet you'd yell at him for all the hours he spends at the station."

Stiles's smile fades as his gaze lands on the boy across the cemetery.

"I've seen this boy around school before. I think his name is Isaac."

"Cam, this kid is the most hyperactive little shit, I swear. You know how you always said I was annoying? Well, this kid would make you eat those words," Isaac laughs.

The laughter fades out, the wind drowning the noise as an eerie quite settles back over the cemetery. Isaac glances at the other boy once again, any hint of a smile disappearing.

"He's quiet here though, Camden."

Thursday, April 22, 2010

"He's friends with this kid - McCall. They're pretty weird," Isaac says to the gravestone he is propped up against. "His name is Stiles Stilinski. What parent would do that to their kid?" Isaac questions, barking out a laugh.

"His name is definitely Isaac, mom. Isaac Lahey."

Thursday, April 29, 2010

"I've never told you what he looks like, mom. Maybe you can see him. I hope so," Stiles pauses, taking a shallow breath to keep the tears at bay. "I'll describe him anyway, just in case. He's tall – like, pretty tall. He must be uncomfortable kneeling on the ground like that with such long legs, actually. Maybe I should bring him a pillow or a blanket or something so he doesn't hurt his knees like that. No. No, that's probably weird. That's weird, right? Enough people think I'm weird. Anyway, he has curly hair. And he wears scarves. That's actually sort of weird. It's pretty warm here. It's kind of stupid."

"Stilinski keeps staring at me here," Isaac says to the concrete slab in front of him, diligently ignoring Stiles's stare. "It's annoying. Anyway, dad's doing the same as usual. No freezer this week. Small mercies, right?" Isaac asks, letting out a mirthless laugh, turning to catch Stiles's eyes still on him.

"GOD, what the hell is he looking at!?"

Thursday, May 6, 2010

"Isaac's not here today, mom. He's here every Thursday. I wonder if he's okay. I shouldn't worry, right? I mean, we aren't friends. Not at all. We've never even talked. Actually, he probably isn't here because he has friends, or a date, or a life…" Stiles trails off deflating, resting his forehead against the cool marble of his mother's tombstone.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

"Mom, he has a black eye."

Ignoring the feeling of being watched, Isaac played with the dirt around the grave.

"Sorry I couldn't make it last week. Dad went on a bender."

"Should I be worried, mom?"

Thursday, May 18, 2010

"Hey, Cam. I know I don't usually visit on Tuesdays, but dad is going to be so pissed after parent teacher conference tonight."

"Isaac is here. It's only Tuesday – he's never here on Tuesdays, mom," Stiles tells her, a grave note to his voice. "Maybe there's a reason he wears those dumb scarves."

"Stiles is here tonight. I wonder if he's here every night. Doesn't he have someone looking for him?"

Thursday, May 20, 2010

"Isaac has a bruise on his cheek. I looked up his family. I know dad would be mad if he knew I looked at his files. But I think Isaac's dad might be hitting him."

"He stares at my bruises. I kind of want to punch him.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

"Dad snapped my arm two days ago when I wouldn't get in the freezer."

"His arm is broken. Should I tell dad? I don't know what to do, mom."

Thursday, June 3, 2010

"Stiles is here with his dad. They brought flowers. I'm guessing his mom's dead," Isaac said, a distinct sense of sadness laced in his voice.

"You'd laugh if I brought you flowers, huh, Camden?" Isaac questioned, laughing himself before standing up and brushing himself off. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow."

Friday, June 4,2010

"Who takes flowers from a grave? Why would someone do that? Those were for you, mom. Don't they know how rude that is?" Stiles asks angrily. Sniffling he adds, "Don't they know how much it hurts?"

"Stiles is crying today. He won't stop kicking the ground, Cam.

Oh.

The flowers are gone."

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Stopping briefly at the concrete headstone he typically visits, Isaac lets out a self-deprecating smile.

"I know you'd tease me endlessly for this, Cam, but I brought him flowers. They aren't anywhere as nice as the ones him and his dad left, but...He's late. I hope he shows up," Isaac says before briskly walking across the cemetery.

Stiles arrives forty-five minutes later than usual and takes in the scene before him. Isaac is standing next to his mother's grave, bouquet of flowers in hand. Stiles stops a foot and a half in front of Isaac, staring up at him awkwardly as an uncomfortable silence envelopes them.

Feeling uneasy so far out of his comfort zone, Isaac thrusts a long arm out to Stiles to hand him the flowers, blurting out a quick, "I'm sorry."

"Did you take my flowers?"

Isaac stared at him in shock before rushing to answer, "What? No, of course not!"

"Relax, dude," Stiles says, laughing softly.

Isaac stares at him in astonishment.

"I know you wouldn't have done that," Stiles adds nonchalantly.

"Yeah? How do you know that? They were pretty nice flowers, how do you know I didn't wait for you to leave and then take them?" Isaac questioned, just shy of teasing.

Stiles quirked an eyebrow before responding, "You spend at least an hour here talking to your brother every week. You wouldn't take flowers from a grave."

"How do you know I talk to my brother?"

Stiles blushes and shuffles awkwardly, avoiding eye contact as he answers, "I, uh, looked at the file at the police station."

"How'd you know my name?"

"We go to school together?" Stiles said questioningly, wondering if perhaps Isaac didn't recognize him. The silence stretched, filling Stiles with an overwhelming urge to speak. So, of course, he said the first thing he could think of: "So…how's your face? You know the black eye and the bruise…"

"You've been watching me."

"You knew the flowers were gone, I'd say it was mutual."

"Fair enough. Sorry about the flowers, by the way."

"I thought we agreed you didn't need to be sorry unless you stole them."

"No, no, I mean, sorry those aren't as nice as the ones you left for her," Isaac said clumsily, gesturing towards the bouquet in Stiles's hands.

Stiles stared down at the flowers he'd been given, before looking back up to lock eyes with Isaac.

"I think they're beautiful."

Isaac broke eye contact this time, trying to hide the smile threatening to break across his face.

"So, do you come here every day?"

"I try to come most days, at least when my dad's working…I noticed you've come here more often. Is it because of me?"

Isaac shrugs, refusing to meet Stiles's eyes. Stiles just smiles wider.

"I'll see you Thursday, again."

Isaac lets him walk away but calls out before he gets out of earshot.

"Maybe Tuesday."

Returning his smile, Stiles responds, "Yeah, maybe Tuesday."