A/N:

I'm sorry about how long this took (really, I swear)

Anyway, :)

Scott is seated on the lacrosse field at nine in the morning, too eager to be on time and just be there that he overshoots a little. Of course, he should have known he was jumping the gun when his mom wasn't even up when he was. Still, he likes the heat, and how it forces him to concentrate on something besides Isaac.

"I'm so hooot." He whines, falling back on to the grass and pressing his hands flat into the tickly blades. They scratch at the webs between his fingers, a little sharp for something he's supposedly going to be landing on a lot this coming lacrosse season. That is, if he isn't sitting on the bench the whole time with Stiles.

Of course, he won't be on the bench, because he's been working his ass off (well, he's been thinking about working his ass off) the whole summer. And, it isn't like he'll be in the way or anything, at least not as much as Coach Finstock seems to think.

It's lacrosse that keeps his mind off of the heat, and kind of off of Isaac, even though Isaac pops up at times when he's thinking about lacrosse. Scott isn't blind, he knows Isaac is a good lacrosse player, and he idly considers the possibility of Isaac helping him out a little. It would be good for Isaac's self-esteem, since the other teen hardly ever gets praised, and it would help Scott get off the bench and into the world that Jackson Whittemore holds so dear.

But, first, Scott has to pitch the idea to Isaac.

It's nearing ten when he reaches this troubling realization and all dreams of lacrosse stardom fly out the window, along with any thoughts of possibly getting some one on one time with Isaac. Scott barely knows Isaac, except for the few classes they had together freshmen year and lacrosse, and Isaac isn't one to step out of his comfort zone. Scott is surprised that Isaac even bothered to mention coming back, of his own free will too, though he's mostly pleased.

He might not be a good lacrosse player, and he might be weak and kind of nerdy, but he obviously did something right in Isaac Lahey's eyes.

Scott can't resist the urge to smile, even for something as silly as earning Isaac Lahey's approval. Not that Isaac Lahey's approval is silly, but more the notion that it makes Scott s happy. Clearly, he's overreacting, since Isaac hasn't said two words to him. He can only clearly recall one prior conversation, and that was merely Scott asking what was for lunch and Isaac having to admit that he didn't know.

At eleven, Scott grows restless and decides to jog a few laps, which does nothing for his asthma of his self-esteem. Even Stiles can do more laps than he can, though that's mostly because Stiles lives off of Red Bull, sugar, and the occasional overdose of Adderall. If you took all that away, Scott is convince Stiles would collapse into a pile of limbs and pitiful moaning.

At least, he hopes he would, since that's exactly what Scott does after one lap of the lacrosse field.

And, naturally, that's when Isaac decides to show up, a crumpled piece of paper in his fist. He walks all the way to the edge of the field where Scott is moaning and trying to scramble to his feet at the same time which, really, is pretty damn hard. He seems to be fighting the urge to smile, a light blush working its way across his cheeks, and Scott smiles as convincingly as he can between pants.

"Sorry, I was just running some laps."

"You ran one." Isaac states simply and Scott tries to feign casualty as he dusts some grass from his shirt.

"No, I did at least three."

"Alright." Isaac shrugs and holds out the piece of paper, worn and covered in a neat script. The handwriting kind of throws Scott off, because he figured Isaac would have a manlier handwriting, but the style actually suits the curly headed teen. It isn't flashy, but small and neat, much like a machine would do. All of the letters match, which is nothing like Scott's, since his tends to fly all over the place. He's even managed to miss the paper and write on the desk before, though he usually tries to claim he did it on purpose.

"This all?" Scott jokes as Isaac takes a seat, folding his legs, and he instinctively follows suit. Isaac doesn't laugh, but he doesn't look offended either, so Scott figures his joke went over well.

"Sorry, I know it's a lot."

Scott can't tell if Isaac is joking or not so he shrugs, turning the paper over and inspecting the back.

"Picture of Dorian Gray?" He asks and Isaac nods, flushing a little.

"Yeah, that one's good."

"What's it about?" Scott likes the sound of it, and he likes the way Isaac looks when he blushes, and he likes a lot of things, but he should really be listening.

"A guy named Dorian who has a magic painting that ages for him." Isaac explains and Scott scrunches his nose, staring at the title like it was what confused him. Isaac laughs at the expression and gently pulls the list from Scott's fingers, biting his lip as he searches.

"I like this one," He points to one of the titles, "The Princess Bride."

"That's a movie!" Scott grins excitedly and Isaac nods, smiling at the eagerness in Scott's voice. His expression turns soft, like he's thinking of someone that makes him happy, as he turns back to the list.

"Yeah, I used to watch it all the time."

"What happened?" Scott presses, always eager to know more, and Isaac looks nervous. He picks at the hem of his shirt and doesn't respond for a moment, looking like he's considering something. Scott almost regrets asking, but doesn't fully regret it, because he never fully regrets anything. It's one of the perks of being almost as impulsive as Stiles; he just never has the time to regret a decision.

"I got older and read the book." Isaac states in an "End of Story" tone. Scott nods because, yeah, he can totally get that. He used to read Spiderman comics all the time, and then he watched the movies, which were totally kickass and put the comics to shame.

Is that the same thing?

He considers this for a bit as Isaac sits in silence beside him, and finally decides that Isaac's transition sounds a lot better than going from comic books to movies. At the very least, it sounds a lot smarter, which makes him very glad he didn't bring up his own transition in response to Isaac's.

When the silence drags, Scott snatches the list back, scanning it again for something particularly interesting. He recognizes some of the titles from English class, and others because they're pretty recent. One of them looks really familiar, and he realizes he saw his mom reading it.

"What's this about?" Scott gestures to the one he saw his mom reading and Isaac leans over to look. He's so close their shoulders are brushing, and Scott finds himself moving to press further into the other teen. Isaac instantly shies away, moving back to his spot and turning bright red. He mumbles for a moment, trying to find something to say, before sighing.

"I think I need to go." He murmurs and stands, not even offering a hand to Scott, who may or may not still be winded from his lap around the lacrosse field.

Scott watches as Isaac grows smaller and smaller until he finally disappears, and Scott is left alone. The paper moves a bit in the breeze, forcing Scott to roll onto his stomach and trap it underneath him. It crunches and settles, flattened by his rock hard abs and movie snack fat, and he rests his chin on his folded arms.

"Picture of Dorian Gray," He mumbles to himself, "Sounds interesting."

If he can show Isaac he's serious about something, maybe Isaac will be more inclined to help him with lacrosse. It's a sad attempt, and not likely to work but, at this point, Scott figures he'll just take what he can get.