"Chantille, hurry the fuck up, the pancakes are burning!" Isaac yells, poking at them helplessly with a spatula.
"You supposed to flip them," Latisha says from the kitchen table and Isaac rolls his eyes. The pancake is stuck to the bottom of the pan, while simultaneously threatening to fall apart when he tries to unstick it. It's going to be a bitch cleaning the pan, he can already tell.
"You supposed to flip them like this," Latisha says and mimes flipping the pancake midair like on TV.
"Yeah, well, I don't think it's quite there yet," Isaac says, already mourning the loss of yet another pancake. He doesn't know why Chantille insisted on pancakes when she wasn't even going to cook them. "You want more juice?"
Latisha sticks out her cup in response and he fills it with fruit punch, going back to staring dubiously at the pancake in the pan.
"Who she be talking to anyway?" Isaac mutters in annoyance, not actually caring enough to bother eavesdropping. Chantille kept her disposable cell phone and often calls a "friend" from LA, the details of their relationship remaining unclear.
Isaac finishes up the pancake batter, making several burnt on the outside, undercooked on the inside monstrosities that he and Latisha drown with shitty maple syrup to make them edible before Chantille finally comes down.
"Ugh, horrible," Chantille complains, pouring more syrup on her plate.
"Yeah, well, next time you can fucking make them," Isaac scowls, dumping the pan in the sink with the other piles of dirty dishes that he will probably eventually have to get around to cleaning.
"So," Chantille says brightly, ignoring his last comment. "It's Saturday. You don't have work until three, right? What should we do?"
Chantille and Latisha have been living with Isaac for three weeks now and Chantille has started to get stir-crazy sitting in the house all day with nothing to do but watch Latisha. She even went to the library and took out a bunch of books.
Isaac actually has a shitload of homework and is still failing two classes (just two different classes now) but Chantille drags him out to go bowling because it's either that or ice skating. Beacon Hills kind of sucks.
Isaac hasn't bowled since he was ten, but fortunately being a werewolf has some upsides, so he pretty much destroys Chantille and Latisha, who have never done it.
"Okay, you gotta try and roll it down the cente-no, don't throw it!" Isaac says, crouching next to Latisha as she holds her bowling ball in front of her determinedly. "Now, swing it back, yeah, good!"
Isaac's pretty sure all three of them hold their breaths as the bowling ball rolls slowly down the lane and knocks over seven of the pins.
Latisha lets out a shriek of joy and jumps up in the air. Chantille lets out a loud whoop and Isaac grins at the confused reactions of the other bowlers. It's the first time Latisha's gotten any pins at all, and anybody who's got a problem can just fuck off.
"Alright, my turn now," Chantille says with a grin, standing up and heading for the bowling ball dispenser.
"You actually going to hit anything this time?" Isaac says, heading back to their seat and is gratified to hear Latisha laugh in response.
"Motherfucker, I'm going to kick your pasty ass," Chantille says and flips her hair dramatically over her shoulder.
She doesn't, but as competitive as Chantille is, she isn't a sore loser about it. Isaac buys them ice cream on the way back and realizes when Chantille starts laughing at Latisha getting chocolate ice cream on her nose that he can't remember the last time he's been this happy. Probably never. His fucking social worker was right, he didn't realize how lonely he'd been until they moved in. Latisha even held his hand a couple days ago when they crossed the street. Isaac had expected her to eventually stop being so scared of him, once she realized he wasn't going to rape her, but he'd never expected anything more than that and it warms him even thinking about it.
There's still a lot to figure out, of course. If Chantille and Latisha are going to be staying here with him for another year and change, they're going to have to get Latisha in school somehow. Which is difficult because technically Chantille kidnapped her. They've talked about it a couple times, but it all comes down to the fact that they had no idea how to register her in the local elementary school without a guardian, or even any paperwork. Chantille desperately wants to get a job, partly out of a desire not to be completely dependent on him, partly because of pure boredom, but she can't do that either unless Latisha goes to school during the day.
On Isaac's day off he takes Latisha to the park to give Chantille a break. He's pretty sure that Chantille is going to take a long bath and read whatever Harry Potter book she's on now that she keeps trying to talk to him about. Latisha is excited about the park, skipping back and forth in front of Isaac on the way there, but when they get there they see there are a bunch of other kids playing on the equipment, their parents standing around watching them. Latisha stops skipping and her face falls. Isaac isn't sure if it's because she's shy or because all the other kids are white. Maybe a bit of both.
"Go on," Isaac encourages her, giving her a little shove. "Don't worry, they won't bother you none."
Latisha gives him a dubious look, but walks slowly over to the jungle gym and begins to climb. Isaac goes over to sit on the little wall that surrounds a bunch of flowers in immaculate rows (the other parents have taken up all the benches) and pulls out his Economics textbook, but he keeps an eye on Latisha as she goes down the slide and then runs back around to do it again. He might have told her that the other kids would leave her alone, but kids are mean and Isaac doesn't trust them, even the sheltered Beacon Hills variety. But after about twenty minutes, Latisha ends up talking to two other boys that are maybe a year or two younger than her and ends up pushing them on the swings, chattering non-stop about sandcastles for some reason. She's talking more than Isaac's heard in the last three weeks combined.
Satisfied that Latisha is having fun, Isaac cracks his book and tries to work out some of the practice questions at the end of the chapter. He's about halfway through when he hears the sound of a familiar car parking on the side of the road, looks up, and yup, it's Stiles's blue jeep.
Fuck, he thinks, as he watches Scott, Stiles, and the hot redhead pile out and all turn to look at him, making it clear what they're here for.
And yeah, okay, it looks pretty bad. Seventeen year old werewolf hanging out at the park with a bunch of little kids. But their parents are all here too, which makes sense, considering the disaster this town is. What do they think he's going to do, in broad daylight?
Isaac turns back to his book, even as he feels them approach. He's not going to let them goad him into starting something, especially not all in public and shit.
"Isaac," Scott says coolly and Isaac looks up to see him crossing his arms over his chest, Stiles and the hot redhead flanking him. It'd probably be a lot more intimidating if they weren't all so short. And in a park full of screaming children and soccer moms.
"Bernardo, Pee-wee Herman, slutty cheerleader number one," Isaac responds, equally as cool and is gratified to see their eyes bug out in surprise. It's too bad butch girl isn't here. He had a really good one for her.
"Excuse me?" hot redhead says furiously. She looks familiar angry. Isaac's pretty sure he went to elementary school with her, but he still has no idea what her name is. "Wha-"
"You're excused," Isaac cuts her off and goes back to looking at his textbook, not that he's reading a single word.
"Yeah, you wish," Stiles says, sounding equally as angry. "Unfortunately for you we're not just going to let your werewolf ass sit next to a playground full of little kids!"
Isaac lets out a laugh and glances back up at them. "Yeah, what you think I'm going to do? Eat them?"
"You think that's funny?" Stiles responds, because apparently no one in this town can take a joke. "Listen, you sick-"
"What are you doing here then?" Scott asks, putting his hand on Stiles shoulder and pulling him back a little.
"None of your fucking business," Isaac replies, annoyed that Scott saw through his attempt to stall by insulting Stiles.
Out of the corner of his eye he sees Latisha and the two boys digging in the dirt with some sticks. He can't let them find out about her. Stiles's dad is the Sheriff and he seems like the kind of kid who tells his dad everything. They'll take her and Chantille away and he might even get charged with something for letting them stay with him.
Scott growls, quietly, and Isaac sees something dangerous in his eyes. Something that makes him reassess his assumption that Scott is the most passive and reasonable of his friends. It also makes him remember that Scott is stronger than him, even though he's still not sure how he knows that.
"I'm not going to repeat myself again," Scott says, stepping forward, and Isaac can't help but stiffen up. "What are you doing here?"
"Or you'll do what?" Isaac says, keeping his voice level, but he's sure that Scott can hear the quickening beat of his heart. "You gonna start something? Right here?"
"It doesn't have to be right here," the redhead says harshly. "It's not like we don't know where you live."
Fuck. She's right. If they even come near Chantille and Latisha...
"Then bring it," Isaac snarls, standing up and tossing his Economics textbook to the side, because he doesn't know what else to do. He can't back down without exposing Chantille and Latisha. And if they're going to come at him then he's sure as hell not going down without a fight.
Scott face twists in anger and for a second Isaac is afraid that he's going to hit him, right here, in front of all these peop-
"Isaac?" Latisha says from behind him and Isaac feels all the color drain out of his face as he whirl around to face her. Shit.
She's standing a few feet behind him, looking apprehensively at Scott and his friends. She can clearly tell something is wrong, but realizes it's too late to back away now.
"I...I got mud on my pants," she says, showing him the two muddy spots on her new jeans where her knees are. She looks seconds away from tears.
"Don't worry about it," Isaac says automatically, her anguished look only making him feel worse. "We'll wash it off when we get home. Go on and play now."
She hesitates, eyes moving from him to Scott worryingly. Isaac gives her a meaningful look, jerking his head in the direction of the playground, and Latisha darts away, running back over to the swings.
Isaac resists the urge to close his eyes and moan in despair as he turns around to face Scott and his friends again. They all look incredibly confused. Stiles even has his mouth open a bit, but to be fair, Isaac isn't actually sure if he ever closes it.
"What?" he says angrily, furious that they have to butt into every single thing in his life just because he's a werewolf. Haven't they realized yet that he has no interest in running around killing people, or whatever everyone else in this town does for fun?
"You could have just said something, you know," Scott says, still looking bemused. It makes him look like a puppy instead of a werewolf, and Isaac is disturbed by the fact that he can't see any of the dangerous side in him like this.
"Fuck off."
"You know, with an attitude like that, no wonder everyone thinks you're involved in evil ritual murders," Stiles says, rolling his eyes and Isaac would come up with a retort, but he's still stuck on "evil ritual murders," because what the fuck? Is that what's happening here?
"We don't have time for this," the redhead says agitatedly, turning away from him and speaking to Scott as if Isaac isn't there at all. "We have to go."
"Right," Scott says with a firm nod, and then turns to Isaac briefly. "Sorry."
And then they turn around and head back to Stiles's jeep, leaving Isaac the bewildered one now.
Sorry? Did Scott just apologize to him? Why would he do that?
"Who were those people?" Latisha asks hesitantly on the way back home, like she thinks she's going to get in trouble for asking.
"No one," Isaac replies distractedly. "I mean. Just stay away from them if you see them again, you feel me? They're dangerous."
Latisha looks up at him curiously. "They in a gang?"
"Something like that," Isaac says, because it's the truth after all.
"Okay," Latisha says, like it explains everything, and then starts asking him when it will get warm enough that they can go swimming.
Isaac is worried for a few days after the incident in the park, but no one comes to the door asking about Latisha or Chantille and Scott and his friends ignore him in school. Then about halfway through March there's another murder, which sends the whole town into hysterics and Isaac figures they have bigger things to worry about.
Meanwhile, he, Chantille, and Latisha have sort of got a routine going. There's still a few kinks to work out; Chantille is still bored out of her mind, Latisha has started to talk about how she misses school, and Isaac still is an utter failure at cooking, but he's confident that they'll work everything out eventually. Maybe that's why he genuinely doesn't see it coming when Chantille tries to upset the entire thing.
There's a ramp up to it, of course, which is pretty obvious in hindsight. Chantille starts calling her friend everyday, and then several times a day, looking upset and worried when she gets off the phone. Isaac listens to one of their conversation one time, but it mostly consists of Chantille telling the other girl vague things like not to give up and to do what she has to. It doesn't help that this all happens around midterms and Isaac has to spend most of his free time cramming in order to scrape by with passing grades.
So he's completely taken by surprise when he come home from school, exhausted from his final midterm, to see Chantille waiting on his front steps for him, her cell phone clutched in both hands.
"I need to ask for another favor," she says guiltily.
"No," Isaac says, when he gets it a couple seconds later. "No fucking way."
"She saved my life," Chantille says quietly, uncharacteristically understated. Chantille has always been a loud, happy, energetic presence in the brief periods they inhabited the same spaces, and it's this more than anything that makes Isaac hear her out. "When I was out on the street for the first time...She taught me what to do, what not to do, where to go, what to watch out for. I don't think I'd've made the first few months without her."
Chantille hasn't spoken about tricking since the first time in the bathroom and Isaac hasn't asked. He's a coward; he doesn't want to know more than he already does. It throws him off balance and he crosses his arms uncomfortably over his chest.
"She don't have nowhere else to go?" Isaac asks, because fuck if he's going to find himself in this situation if he doesn't have to be.
"She need to get away from the city. Her...her sister lives in Vegas and she said she could live with her, but only after she clean for a while."
"Clean?" Isaac repeats furiously. "She a dope fiend? Chantille, what the fuc-"
"She don't have nowhere else to go!" Chantille says, voice jumping an octave, with a helpless look on her face that Isaac hates her nameless friend already for being responsible for.
"So you want her to come here?!"
They shouldn't be having this conversation outside in the middle of the afternoon. Isaac's neighbors already hate him-he's seen the looks they give him, alright?- and he's not keen on advertising the presence of two underage girls in his house that are clearly not related to him, but neither of them want Latisha to overhear this if they can help it.
"It won't be for long, alright? Just six weeks and she'll go to her sister's!"
"Fuck no," Isaac says, point blank. "I ain't having no fucking dope fiend living in my house."
Which, of course, inevitably leads to Isaac coming home a few days later to a blonde woman with a badly covered-up black eye and horrible taste in footwear sitting at his kitchen table.
Her name is Holly, Chantille has told him, and she's young, probably no older than twenty, but Isaac can tell just by looking at her that she been an addict for years. Her bleach blonde hair is stringy and unhealthy-looking and while she's not skinny, not even close, she still has the gaunt face of someone who's lost a lot of weight in a short period of time. She has the look of someone that might have been attractive once upon a time, but that all went out the window the moment she stuck a needle in her arm.
"Isaac!" Chantille says excitedly when he comes through the door. "She's here! This is Holly."
"Hi," Isaac says shortly, putting down his things, and entering the kitchen in trepidation. He fucking hates dope fiends, not like that's a particularly unique sentiment to have. Everyone hates dope fiends, including dope fiends themselves.
Holly looks him up and down with her tired gray eyes. Her breathing is shallow and she's shaking imperceptibly. Already in withdrawal. "I have to fuck him?"
Isaac stops short and stares. In the living room, he hears Latisha's breath catch, her heartbeat speeding up.
"What?" Chantille says, looking just as shocked as he feels.
"It's no problem," Holly says with a shrug, but it's a lie. Isaac doesn't have to be a werewolf to see how abhorrent the idea is to her. "I just want to know what I'm walking into here. He's a bit prettier than my type, but hey, beggars can't be choosers, right?"
"No," he and Chantille say at the same time, though Chantille's is horrified while Isaac's is angry, mostly because he fucking hates being called a pretty boy. Nothing good every follows.
Holly looks surprised at his vehemence. "Relax, I was just asking. No need to get all offended."
She uncrosses her legs, her ridiculous six inch heels clacking against each other. Isaac has no idea how she got here with them. How was she able to walk more than a couple feet in them, much less walk a couple feet in this town without getting arrested? With the short skirt and the tiny jacket that doesn't even zip up over her tits, she practically has five dollar whore stamped on her forehead.
She looks over Isaac again and gets a contemplative look on her face. "You a faggot or something, is that it?"
"I ain't a faggot!"
"Alright, enough," Chantille says stepping between them. "Holly, he's cool, alright? And Isaac..."
She gives him a pleading look that says, quite clearly, please be nice.
Ugh, fine, Isaac thinks, heading over to the fridge to get a drink. He can do nice.
"So, what made you decide to give up the whoring and the blow?" he says a few moments later, leaning against the kitchen counter and sipping his fruit punch.
"Isaac!" Chantille says, horrified.
"Hey, just making conversation," Isaac replies, smirking at Holly.
Holly doesn't look even remotely offended and shrugs. "Got sick of rolling around in the gutter sucking cock for the next high. But I expect you know all about that, don't you?" she says, mouth twisting in a malicious smile. "Pretty face like yours, I bet you spent your fair share of time bent over getting ass-fucked in that group home of yours. Only difference between us is I got paid for it."
Isaac sees red and slams his drink down on the counter so hard most of the liquid flies out and Holly practically leaps out of her chair to stand upright, fists shaking at her sides.
"Enough, both of you!" Chantille shouts, coming to step between them. "Stop it, right now!"
"Bitch, you'd best watch your mouth or I'll give you another shiner to match!" Isaac says, so angry he can barely speak, trying to step around Chantille.
"Fuck you!" Holly spits back, shaking from the withdrawal or with anger Isaac can't tell. "You think you so hard, living in this rich-ass town, house all paid for, still going to fucking high school? You're a spoiled punk and you don't know shit, so stop trying to act like something you ain't!"
"Says the whore who got herself hooked on that shit so far back I bet you can't even remember your high school's name, if you ever went at a-"
"ISAAC!" Chantille yells, voice reverberating through the kitchen loud enough that both Isaac and Holly flinch. "I said enough! Both of you!"
Isaac seals his mouth shut angrily and steps back. Holly returns to her seat, glaring at him and Isaac is more than happy to return to favor.
"Now you gonna act like fucking adults and figure out how to be cool with each other!" Chantille commands. Isaac doesn't think he's ever seen her this angry before and it should look ridiculous considering how short she is, but it mostly just annoys him how much he finds himself doing what she says.
"Fuck this shit," he says, throwing up his hands, and abandoning his drink on the counter. "You deal with her. Just make sure she stays out of my fucking way."
"No fucking problem," Holly retorts and Isaac gives her the finger on the way out, grabbing his bag and retreating to his bedroom. He has too much on his plate to deal with this bitch. She's Chantille's problem now. All Isaac has to do is let her stay in his house and hope she doesn't try to steal their groceries and sell it for dope. Not that she'd be able to find any in Beacon Hills. Not exactly any thriving corners here, which was probably the point of her coming all the way up here.
He tries to remember she probably saved Chantille's life. As long as she doesn't cause problems, Isaac will force himself live with her for a short period of time.
But Holly does cause problems. She's messy, leaves crumbs all over the kitchen and water all over the bathroom after she takes a shower, and her long blonde hair is all over the house in days. She's sarcastic and cold, even to Chantille, who goes out of her way to make her feel welcome. She smokes, and while she does it outside, she still stinks of tobacco even after she showers, though Isaac's not sure he'd notice it if he wasn't a werewolf. She wakes everyone up in the middle of the night with her sobbing, throwing up, and begging for dope from the withdrawal and often has to be soothed back to sleep by Chantille.
After a week, Isaac is so completely sick of her that the only reason he hasn't thrown her out is because of how pathetic she is and how desperate Chantille is to help her.
At least he's not the only one.
"What you think about Holly?" Isaac asks Latisha at 3am on the fifth night. They're in the kitchen, having retreated from the sounds of Holly throwing up her dinner while Chantille holds her hair back.
Latisha wrinkles her nose. "She a dope fiend," she says scornfully, as if that sums it up, and Isaac smirks in victory.
Still, Isaac figures that once she's out of the worst of the withdrawal, things will get better. But they don't. Instead they get worse. And while technically it isn't Holly's fault, Isaac will never forgive her for it.
A/N: Lolololol, Isaac's life is so hard. It shouldn't amuse me so much, but I can't help it when he does it to himself. I just have way too much fun writing about him being a dick to everyone. Please review!
