ANCHOR
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WHEN ISAAC FINDS Malia, she's taking a long sip from the silver flask that is wrapped in her right hand. She hasn't noticed him yet, and the dirty blond decides to approach her with a neutral expression displayed on his face.
Malia continues dancing, her eyelids shut, and mouth curled in a slight smile. Isaac wonders if she's drunk for a moment before realizing that she can't be, and he keeps making his way over to the girl. She opens her eyes as he steps in front of her, and Malia's smile fades instantly. He frowns, but quickly attempts to replace it with tightened lips.
"What're you doing here?" Isaac asks over the music, raising his voice to be sure that she can hear his question.
"Getting drunk." Malia briefly holds up the flask, gesturing her free hand towards him. "What are you doing?"
The boy moves to the side, jerking his chin over his shoulder. Malia averts her eyes to find Scott and Allison standing a few feet away, both of them in a conversation of their own while they observe the rest of the students. "I'm here with them— they're here to make sure no one gets hurt or anything."
"That sounds fun too," she says in an uninterested tone, taking a swig of her drink.
Neither of them speaks again for another few minutes, the music blasting and the voices of nearby groups becoming louder. Isaac watches the werecoyote intently, his gaze narrowed as she keeps her line of sight trained on nothing in general. The Alpha and his beta stare at them from their spot beside each other, curious as to how their interaction is going.
Malia inhales while she points to the pair. "I think your boyfriend and girlfriend want to say something."
Isaac's head whips around to look at them, and both of their eyes widen as they attempt to engage in a false conversation. Isaac sighs, turning back to the girl in front of him. "They just want to know if you're okay."
"You can tell them I'm fine," Malia informs him. She glances between him and their friends, maintaining a blank expression. "Oh, also Liam and Mason are here. They're drinking, too."
"What?" Isaac questions, searching the area for the two freshmen. When he finds them, Liam is gulping down a long sip of Coca-Cola. The tall boy stifles a groan, "Now we have to watch them too."
"Eh, they'll be fine. They've been here as long as me, and no one's tried to kill either of us yet."
"Yet," Isaac repeats pessimistically.
Malia rolls her eyes at him, chugging more of the vodka. The liquid tingles on her tongue, but she doesn't particularly mind the feeling. Abruptly, Isaac swipes the object from her grasp and tilts his own head back, letting the alcohol run down his throat with ease. When he returns the flask to Malia and wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeves, he coughs as the burning sensation takes place.
The girl lets out a soft laugh, grinning at him. Isaac pauses before smiling, joining her with a light chuckle. However, Malia soon remembers the reality of their situation, and her cheerful expression fades into one of vacancy. Isaac's face does the same, and they drift into another awkward silence.
At this moment, Scott and Allison decide to walk towards them, the brunette holding a red party cup in her hand. Isaac shifts to the side, allowing them room in front of Malia.
"Hey," Allison greets casually. Malia gives a nod, drinking from her flask once more. "What're you drinking?"
"Whatever'll get me drunk."
Scott smiles slightly, releasing a huff of air as he takes a step closer. "I don't wanna ruin your night or anything, but we kind of can't get drunk."
"What—!?"
Allison and Malia's faces wrinkle in confusion and disbelief at his revelation, both of their jaws gaping in shock. Scott shrugs at them apologetically.
"I think it has something to do with our healing," he elaborates. "But trust me, I've tried. You're not gonna feel anything."
Malia's eyes dart over to Liam and Mason, who are still drinking from their Coca-Cola bottles. "Maybe you should tell him that."
They each look over at the freshmen, and Allison groans at the sight as she has the same thought as Isaac had before.
"Okay, Malia—"
She turns the other direction in an attempt to avoid the oncoming conversation, but Allison steps in front of her assertively. Scott and Isaac follow her lead, allowing the brunette to convince the werecoyote to hear them out.
"We just wanna talk!" Allison states over the loud beats that echo through the schoolyard.
"Well, I just wanna dance!" Malia retorts, raising her flask as a reminder while she bounces up and down to the music.
Allison sighs. "Mal, we didn't tell you about Peter—"
"To protect me," she interrupts bluntly. Her friends tilt their heads in confusion. "That's what Peter said you would say. And guess what he said next?"—none of them open their mouths to speak—"That you were right!"
They all make puzzled faces, Scott's gaze drifting to the ground as he tries to solve the puzzle.
Malia raises her brows tauntingly. "Does that surprise you?"
"No. It makes me wonder what he wants," Scott answers flatly. Then he looks straight at her, stretching out a hand to gesture between her and the others. "Malia, we need to stay together. You, me, Allison, Stiles, Isaac—"
"I don't wanna talk about that!" Malia snaps, causing him to stop talking. When she notices his falter, she feels a sudden pity. "I just wanna dance," she raises her drink again, "and get drunk!"
Malia waves her flask around in the air, making a move to whirl the other way and continue dancing with the crowds. However, her head becomes dizzy, and her body feels heavier. Her limbs give out, and she stumbles forward to meet the grass beneath her.
Isaac rushes to the girl, swiftly catching Malia by her forearms and holding them tightly to keep her steady. "Whoa—"
A series of amused giggles stumble out of Malia's mouth, a joyful smile displayed on her features.
"She's actually drunk," Allison says, mostly to herself.
"Yep!" Malia snorts, staggering as she laughs. The feeling doesn't last long, though, and she soon hunches over and rests the top of her head against Isaac's chest. "Is this what drunk feels like? It doesn't feel as good as I hoped..."
"I don't think it's supposed to," Scott remarks. His eyes dart to her hand, more specifically, the flask. He snatches it from Malia and brings it closer to his nose. "What's in this? What did you have to drink?"
"Just vodka," Malia replies in a perplexed tone.
Isaac adjusts his arms on her elbows when she starts to slip, and his frame becomes tense. "Scott, look—"
"Yeah," Scott nods frantically, gulping in panic. He looks at Malia with a stern expression. "Stay on your feet and keep moving."
He and Allison start to make their way over to Liam and Mason, and Isaac throws Malia's arm over his shoulder and wraps a hand around her waist as they walk behind them. Mason is kneeling beside a seemingly drunk Liam, and Allison rushes to them. She gently pulls Liam on to the bench, motioning for Isaac to set Malia down next him.
"Is he drunk? How much did you have to drink?" Allison asks Mason as she presses the back of her hand against Liam's sweating forehead.
The younger boy shrugs in confusion. "Not enough to get him like this."
"Malia?"
The werecoyote turns to find Scott offering an open water bottle towards her, indicating for her to drink in order to sober-up. She hesitantly accepts the water, chugging down half of it desperately.
"Something's happening," Scott tells his friends. "We need to get them out of here. I think we're gonna have to, um—"
Before the Alpha can finish, his stance becomes unsteady. He raises his palm to his line of sight and seems as if he tries to focus on it but is unable to. His betas copy his actions, and they begin to groan in disgust as their features mirror their sounds. Mason glances between each of them in concern.
"How much did you guys' drink?" Mason questions.
Allison rubs her eyes lazily. "I—I don't know. I had, uh, maybe half a cup of fruit punch?"
"I didn't drink anything," Isaac shakes his head in pain.
Allison and Isaac collapse to the grass, both of them on either side of Liam's legs. Scott uses the edge of the table to keep himself upright, while Mason stares at the group with a puzzled expression. The music pounds through the schoolyard, and the werecreatures wince as the beats enter their ears.
"I—It... It's the music." Scott struggles to get the words out but manages to successfully make out his realization after a few tries. Mason furrows his brows at the older boy. "I have to... I have to turn off the music— don't let them out of your sight."
Mason nods rapidly as Scott staggers away, leaving his pack in the safety of the freshman. However, when two men begin to stride towards them, Mason becomes tense with anxiety. Allison attempts to focus on her surroundings, only to be yanked off the ground along with Liam.
"Hey, what're you doing?" Mason intervenes assertively, stepping in front of the two remaining on the bench.
The guard orders for him to move out of the way, but Mason refuses as he insists on going with them. Abruptly, the man shoves Mason to the ground, ending their debate and hoisting Isaac and Malia up. He wraps each of his arms across their waists and follows the other guard into the building. The music abruptly shuts off, and the students begin to murmur to each other with complaints.
They move around the crowds of people and lead the teenagers into the hallway. When they release the supernatural creatures, Malia's back hits the floor, while the side of her head crashes against something softer. Then the darkness takes over her consciousness, and she drifts into a brief and uncomfortable sleep.
____________
The sudden sound of thudding and groans echo through the hall, causing Malia to flash awake. She flips over, landing on her hands and knees, kneeling down on the ground. Her hair and clothes are soaked, heavily scented of gasoline. Malia blinks a couple times to clear her sight of the moisture.
Isaac is beside her, his chest heaving as he runs a hand through is wet and oily hair. He looks at Malia over his shoulder before turning to the front again, searching for their friends. Allison and Liam lean against the lockers, the girl's arm extended over Liam's chest in a protective manner. They stare ahead, as does Scott, at the sight of Derek and Braeden fighting the three men.
Braeden holds a shotgun tightly in her hands, using it to strike the men in the face with anger. She grunts as she delivers another blow to a guard's face, and he collapses to the floor. Derek catches one of their legs as they try to kick him in the side, and he rams him into the lockers roughly.
However, the largest guard is still awake, weakly crawling towards the lighter that has fallen from his grasp. His left arm reaches out desperately. Braeden notices quickly, and she marches over and pushes her thigh out, kneeing him on the side of his head. A loud crack is heard from the impact, and the man passes out in an instant.
Isaac and Malia cringe at the sound, both of their faces wrinkling in disgust.
Scott pants as he asks, "What happened to the gun?"
"You're covered in gasoline," Derek says with knitted brows. He walks towards the boy with a smirk, and Scott agrees while nodding. Derek offers his forearm, and Scott grabs onto it as he pulls Scott to his feet and pats his shoulder. Then he looks to the rest of the group. "You okay?"
Isaac gives a thumbs up, exhaling in relief. Derek smiles at his former beta, and the dirty blond returns the gesture.
"This is why I don't leave my house," Allison says, shaking her head in disbelief of the past few minutes. Scott laughs and smiles down at her, and Derek grins as he extends his hand once more. She accepts his help, and he hoists her off the tiles. "Thanks."
"No problem," he replies, shrugging his shoulders lightly.
Braeden approaches the group, smacking her lips before speaking. "Now, how the hell did you guys end up like this?"
Everybody lets out a laugh, chuckling as they ask themselves the same question. Isaac has pushed himself off the ground, and he reluctantly holds out a hand for Malia. However, the girl ignores him, using the lockers to help herself find her footing. Once she's steady, Malia hastily thanks Derek and Braeden, who simply nod in response, and then she's walking out the double doors.
She makes it about twenty feet from the school before she hears a voice calling out to her, along with the sound of hurried footsteps. "Malia, where are you going?"
The werecoyote moves around the groups of students, some of them shooting her curious glances as she's currently covered in gasoline. Isaac trails after her, apologizing when he bumps into people. Suddenly, he steps in front of her, stumbling backwards slightly. Malia rolls her eyes and attempts to go around him, but he sidesteps into her path once more.
She growls, "Walking home."
"What? It's pitch-black outside, and I don't think your dad wants you to walk home by yourself."
"He doesn't have to know," Malia retorts, brushing past him easily.
Before Isaac makes to follow her, he spots Mason watching them in bewilderment. Isaac gives a thumbs up, leaving the younger boy even more puzzled. The dirty blond rushes after Malia, and they reach the sidewalk when Malia's pace becomes faster. "Lia, come on. What do you want me to say? I'm sorry?"
At his last words, Malia growls at him over her shoulder. Isaac huffs and shakes his head, apologizing profusely. "No, no, no— Okay, I won't say that. Just let me drive you home, please."
Malia interrupts him by trying to go around him, only to be blocked once more. She tilts her head upwards and growls at him, this time showing her teeth. Isaac stares down at her with apologetic eyes, and she stares back at him. They look at one another for a long moment before Malia grunts, turning the other way.
"W—Where are you going?" Isaac breathes, trying to catch up with the girl. They continue walking until Malia stops at the end of the pavement, and the dirty blond almost trips as his steps pause. "Lia?"
She motions towards the parking lot, waving her hand as she waits for him to understand. Isaac's mouth gapes in realization, and he pulls out his keys and presses the unlock button. The headlights to his car flash from a few feet away, and Malia begins to drag her feet to the vehicle. Isaac follows timidly behind her, opening the driver's side door while Malia gets in the passenger's seat.
He puts the keys in the ignition. "Are you really still mad—?"
"Drive."
"Okay."
____________
As soon as they pull into the driveway, Malia jumps out of the car and slams the door shut, hastily walking to the front of her house. Isaac calls after her, scrambling to unbuckle his seatbelt and follow. Malia swings the wooden door open, closing it behind her while she practically ignores her father.
"Malia—?"
The werecoyote stomps up the stairs as the hinges to the door creak again. She doesn't turn around to address the boy behind her, and Isaac starts to speak to her before he acknowledges the presence of the older man.
"Malia! Oh— Hey, Mr. Tate," he laughs uncomfortably, scratching the nape of his neck.
"Hey, Isaac." Malia's father greets the teenage boy, letting his newspaper fall on to his lap. He glances between Isaac and his daughter, a single eyebrow raised in curiosity. "You guys get in a fight?"
"Uh. Kinda?"
"Yeah. That's what it's like being in love—"
"No, no, no— not like that." Isaac shakes his head rapidly, while Malia rolls her eyes and reaches the second floor to her home.
Their voices fade to background noise, and she walks down the hall and enters her bedroom. Malia crosses the room and pulls out the top drawer of her dresser, searching for a T-shirt and shorts. Footsteps approach her room a minute later, but she pretends she doesn't hear them.
"Malia," Isaac says in a pleading tone. She refuses to turn around, simply tossing her pieces of clothing on the mattress and resuming her search. "Please, Malia."
"Leave."
He sighs, clearly exhausted. "No."
Malia whirls in his direction instantly, her brows pulled together as her eyes narrow at him in disbelief. "N—No? No, really?"
"Yes," Isaac nods, shoving his fists into the pockets of his jeans. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, I get that." Malia laughs in a sarcastic tone, pushing the drawer shut. "You've all said sorry a million times; Scott, Allison, Kira, you, Stiles—"
"We've all said sorry, but you won't actually listen to our apologies!" Isaac shouts, his voice being more desperate and exasperated this time. "You—You just keep walking away, and you won't listen."
"I have been listening!"
"Then why haven't you forgiven us?"
"Maybe because I don't know how," Malia blurts, though it seems as if she's speaking to herself more than him. Isaac's eyebrows pull together, and his mouth hangs ajar. She stutters slightly, searching for an explanation. "I—It... I don't know, Isaac."
The boy stares at her with a confused gaze, but it doesn't seem to be judging. Malia releases an aggravated sigh, and Isaac says, "It's okay. Take your time."
Malia closes shuts her eyes, raising her hands and covering her eyelids with her palms. She takes a few deep breathes before explaining. "I don't know how. I—I don't have any experience in... forgiveness, or whatever you're asking. I don't have any practice in anything."
"I know— and it's not your fault, Malia." Isaac tries to offer comforting words, though he already knows what Malia thinks of herself.
"We talked about that," the werecoyote reminds him bitterly, earning a dry laugh from the dirty blond. "It's just... I don't know where to start with forgiveness. I know you're all sorry for not telling me, and I know you want me to forgive you, but I can't because I don't know how."
A wave of silence washes over them. Neither of them speaks another word for a long, quiet moment. Isaac's eyes drift to the wooden floor, while Malia's gaze is still locked on him. He contemplates how to respond, slightly worried that if he says the wrong thing then she might become even more upset with both him and their friends.
"I... I don't really know how to help with that, Lia." Isaac admits shamefully, shrugging lightly. "But now I know what you're feeling, and I think I can try and help. And even if I can't, I'll still listen."
Malia looks at him with a vulnerable expression, and she hates it. However, she's glad that he understood what she was saying, and he's still willing to try and help her learn. Malia nods softly, pursing her lips.
"Thanks," she voices awkwardly.
Isaac nods. "Yeah. You, too."
She pulls her brows together, puzzled by his acknowledgment. "For what?"
"For not hating me."