pretty reckless ▷ mccall [1]

12

PART 12: "Language of Love"

Hayley lay sprawled on the well worn futon- almost hanging off it as she tried to adjust herself around Jackson who occupied more than half his designated space. Isaac was strewn on a beanbag while Kat lay on her back- streaked dark blonde hair fanning around her on the hardwood panelled floor.

The muted announcements from BBC Sport provided the right form of semi-distraction as the TV seemed to be turned on for the mere sake of providing white noise.

Back resting on the side armrest, her legs hung across Jackson's lap who resolutely seemed to ignore her obvious attempts to push him off. Pointedly poking a toe into his bicep, she narrowed her eyes at him as he grimaced in response.

"Get your filthy feet off me."

"Get your filthy ass off my couch."

"We're at Kat's house."

"It was a metaphor."

"That's not what a metaphor is."

"I'm not illiterate, I was just trying to make a point."

"What point was that?"

"Christ Jackson," she mumbled distractedly as her phone buzzed, indicating a Twitter direct message.

Looking up, she turned an accusing glare toward Isaac. "And you. How did it not strike you to bother telling me how cool your American friends are?"

Snorting from her abode on the floor Kat rolled her eyes as she hitched her top up. "When has sharing critical information ever been Isaac's strong point?"

"Oh yeah shoot the messenger."

"What messenger? You tell us nothing."

"Sue me."

"Ooh he's spunky- we're keeping him."

"Like you have a choice," Kat yawned, bored.

"Touché," Isaac laughed relinquishing his position on the beanbag as he got to his feet and stretched out.

"I'm getting a Coke, vas avec moi Jackson," Kat spoke in rapid French as she propped herself up before dragging Jackson off the couch and into the kitchen.

"Stop doing that Kat," Hayley called behind her grimacing, "You're not even French."

"It's the language of love, hater."

"Then why are you talking to Jackson in it?"

"Shut up."

As Isaac reoccupied the empty space on the futon he looked at Hayley, something intangible tracing the sharp planes of his face. Taking a deep breath, his cheekbones seemed to rise like switchblades under his pale skin and for the first time Hayley noticed the small scar on his cheek.

"You know what you said about me not telling you guys anything?"

"We were kidding Is-"

"-just hear me out. Hayley do you know why I moved here?"

"Yeah, you got a scholarship and you live with Jackson because his parents pay for this place."

Smiling slightly to himself, he shook his head. "That's not exactly it. I don't really know how to put this but uh...last year...my girlfriend passed away. I guess she was more of my ex considering she might have been in love with someone else," he murmured, smiling ruefully. "So her dad and I left. Beacon Hills is just...it's a complicated place to say the least. And I just needed to leave for a while. Jackson'd moved here a couple of months before for his own reasons and he was the only person I could go to. So I ended up here." Barking out a short, nervous laugh, he bit his lip. "Funny story isn't it?"

"Isaac," Hayley looked up, eyes shining, "I'm so sorry."

"Hey no, it's okay. Death really is inevitable. It was her time," he smiled, taking her hand before running his thumb over her knuckles which rose and fell in what was quite possibly identical to the wave like pattern his veins created on his forearm.

"What was her name?"

"Allison. Allison Argent."

"That's beautiful."

"She was beautiful."

"She was French?"

"Her father's side of the family is."

She only smiled in response- eyes meeting his.

"I'll tell Kat soon- maybe ton-" he began to say as he was cut off by an almighty crash from the kitchen followed by a groan that seemed to emanate from Jackson and uncontrolled snorting that was evidently Kat's.

Hayley cringed before gagging as the pair walked over to the kitchen just in time to, unfortunately, see Jackson lick peanut butter off Kat's finger in the most flirtatious way possible.

"Oh God," Isaac groaned. "Would you two give it a rest?"

"I don't like this friends with benefits concept, you guys NEED to stop."

"Jackson has no benefits to provide me with."

"Liar."

"What?"

"He's kidding."

"Sure he is."

"Stop talking in third person, dick."

"Stop talking to my dick."

"JACKSON!"

"Sorry."

"He's really not."

"Great, you deserve a brilliance award."

"Jackson behave."

"I will until we get into bed."

"Okay someone get him out of my house."

➻