A/N This is a request from @busytown. My first request! Yay! Thank you for this idea. I'm not sure if this is exactly what you wanted, but I hope it's still good.
~Isaac's POV~
"You better not take my leather jacket again Isaac!" Derek yells from downstairs. "You need to get your own, Jesus."
I roll my eyes as I slip on his leather jacket. I need a new one I know, the last one got torn up when Jackson Whittemore thought it'd be funny to beat me up on asphalt. That shit tears leather like you wouldn't believe.
I put my nose ring and eyebrow piercing in, both boring old sleepers. I need a job, I want to get different types to spice it up a little.
I fix up my dyed purple hair and put a small amount of eyeliner, not much. I'm not really into it, but it does make my eyes pop.
Satisfied with how I look I head downstairs, greeting Derek as I head to the door of the loft.
"I swear to god Isaac!" he yells. "You're going to regret wearing my jacket!"
I shrug off his threat and continue to head out. I texted Boyd so he should be waiting for me outside to take me to school.
I don't even know why I go there anymore, I'm failing my classes and everyone is either afraid of me or hates me and has it out for me. Maybe today I'll finally decide to never return to that shithole.
I greet Boyd as I jump into the back, Erica has already called shotgun much to my dismay. But then again, if I were in the front I'd be right between their constant flirting and I do not want to put up with that at the moment.
I just want this day to be over.
~~~
I've survived somehow to the end of the day without a single encounter with Jackson, thank god.
But it seems that my luck has run out, since I'm heading out to Boyd's car I get surrounded by him and his friends.
I shoot him a hateful glare. "What do you want this time Jackson? To fuck up my jaw like you did my nose?"
He sniggers. "That was a good day," he hums, smiling with his eyes shut. "No. I just want a good old fashioned beating."
"Oh that's nice," I reply sarcastically. "Sadly I can't help you with that."
He scoffs, taking a step closer to me. "Oh but I think you can Lahey." He has that evil smirk on his face, which immediately means this isn't going to be a 'good old fashioned beating'. No. This could possibly hospitalise me.
The first blow to my face sends me falling to the ground immediately. I don't even register the pain until I'm on my ass, gripping the right side of my face as I look - with shame - up at Jackson in fear. I hate how he is the only person since my dad to actually scare me, and I think he knows it.
"Aww, did that hurt?" he taunts, leaning down slightly.
I'm about to throw a punch back when someone behind me kicks my lower back fricking hard. That's when the punches, kicks, stomps, become endless and it feels as though it's never going to end.
This is why I hate coming to school. Why do I even bother anymore?
"HEY!" a loud voice booms from across the car park. The whole group stop and turn to the mysterious voice. "Back off!"
"Who says you can tell me what to do, McCall?" Jackson growls as this 'McCall' guy walks through the crowd that moved out of the way like the sea did for Moses.
"Leave Isaac alone Jackson, or you're going to be the one who regrets it," he growls. I have to admit. This guy is pretty hot when seething.
Jackson just laughs and looks back down at me. "This isn't the end of it Lahey. McCall might've saved you this time, but he isn't going to be around all the time."
Don't I know it.
"Hey, are you alright?" McCall questions as he helps me up. "Do you need the nurse or something?"
I shrug off his arm. "I'm fine," I grumble. "This isn't the first time he's done it. I'll just walk it off."
I hear him sigh from behind me as I begin to walk away. I don't stop or look back, but suddenly he's right beside me.
"I'm Scott," he introduces with a seriously cute smile.
Then the name registers. Scott McCall. Most popular jock in school, girls want to date him and well, so do guys actually. But still.
"What's the famous Scott McCall doing helping out the loser punk Isaac Lahey?" I ask him with a raised eyebrow.
"Maybe I like you, Isaac," he shrugs.
That was quick. "No one likes me except for my family." My family in this case is Boyd, Erica, and Derek. They're the ones that take care of me nowadays, plus both my parents are dead.
"I don't know why," he answers. "You're a nice guy underneath all that stubbornness."
I scoff. "Tell me, why are you following me?"
He smiles wider. "Can I take you to a really nice café?"
"What?"
"They have amazing chocolate muffins."
Eh. What's it gonna hurt? "Yeah fine."
"Awesome!"
~~~
We sit at a booth by the window while we wait for our food and drinks. "Why are you suddenly talking to me?" I ask. It's been eating at me the whole time.
He looks at me with an expression I can't decipher. "I want to be your friend," he says sincerely. "I've noticed how alone you are at school, even if you're with Erica and Boyd."
"They keep me company!" I say, becoming defensive.
"No they don't," he responds calmly. "They treat you like a third wheel because they're so caught up in each other."
I look down, not wanting to make eye contact because it's true.
"Look," Scott sighs. "I want to be your friend, I want you to be okay."
"Why do you even care?"
Scott's about to reply when a waitress walks over, placing our food down. "Enjoy," she smiles before walking away.
Scott clears his throat. "Try the muffin," he urges.
Clearly he doesn't want to answer me, which is just annoying, but I still try the chocolate muffin. I pick a bit of it off the top and pop it into my mouth. Holy crap, this is delicious! "My god."
He smiles, looking proud of himself. "Told you they were good here." I nod in agreement as I shove pretty much the whole thing into my mouth.
I wash it down with some of my coffee and then look at Scott. "Anyways, are you gonna answer my question?"
"What was it again?" he asks.
"Why do you care?"
He sighs and puts his cup down. "Because, I know about your dad, and what he used to do."
"How?" I ask through my teeth, clenching my jaw.
"My best friend, his dad is the Sheriff," he answers.
"I don't need comforting, if that's why you're here," I tell him. "I've been coping just fine."
"Okay," he nods. "If you don't want comfort, fine. But I want to be your friend, so that in case you need to vent or just having a shitty day, you can come to me."
"So basically, you want to be my friend because I had and abusive dad, my friends treat me like a constant third wheel, and so I can vent to you," I say and he nods. "Not because you actually like me or anything." I stand up. "I don't need pity, Scott."
I walk out of the café and onto the footpath. I can't believe this. No one likes me for me. It's always pity or they're stuck with me. Great. Just great.
"Isaac!" Scott yells, bursting out of the café with a panicked look on his face. "Isaac!" He runs to me while I continue to walk down the street. He grabs my wrist, causing me to spin around and face him.
"Let me go!"
"No!" One hand is wrapped around my wrist the other he holds against the side of my face. "I do like you Isaac!" I shake my head, not believing him. "I do!" he insists. "I think a little too much."
"What?" Now I'm confused.
Then, he answers my question by pressing his lips against mine. He pulls back and looks at me, before I kiss him back. Surprised by myself too, but, you know, pleasantly surprised.