Chapter Text
The next three hours passed incredibly slowly and all at once. Whenever there wasn't a customer, Isaac stared at the clock on the computer monitor, splitting the time left until 5. At 4:20, 8 groups of 5 minutes. At 4:59, three groups of twenty seconds.
Before the last group of twenty seconds Lenora came out from the storage room and crowded into his personal space, forcing Isaac to move away from the register or get pushed away.
"Time to go," she said, logging him out of the register.
"I can stay longer," Isaac offered. "I don't have a night class."
"Nope, work study only covers ten hours. You're capped out for the week my friend."
The bookstore had two exits and windows that didn't open. Isaac thought that must be a fire code violation for a store this size. In his opinion, no room should have less than three exit options. Lenora had told him to never to open the back door except for deliveries. And Stiles was not worth crawling though the air ducts.
Isaac grabbed his messenger bag and headed out the door. He could smell Stiles, and hear him tapping his fingers against his leg. He'd never forgotten Stiles' scent, and seeing him for a few minutes was enough to get a lock on it.
Stile was walking in a circle on the fountain outside the bookstore typing on his phone. Isaac surged forward and snatched it out of his hand.
"Hey!"
"I told you not to tell anyone!"
Stiles reached for the phone, which Isaac held over his head. Stiles all but jumped to reach it. Thank god Isaac was still taller than him. "I'm texting my lab partner. Who's the egomaniac now, huh?"
Isaac pulled his arm down, twisting so the phone was still out of Stiles' reach.
"To Jaime: hey it's stiles!! we're going to crush orgo!! crush it!!! get pumped"
He went back a page and saw he'd only texted Scott in the last three hours. Feeling lightheaded, Isaac scanned over their conversation. He didn't want to invade Scott's privacy. Reading quickly he surmised that Scott was going to Beacon Hills Community College and someone named Malia was driving him crazy.
Why hadn't Scott left Beacon Hills? Was he suicidal?
Isaac handed Stiles his phone. Stiles huffed and shoved his phone into his backpack, as though it was now permanently out of Isaac's reach. "Satisfied?" Isaac nodded. The whole thing was stupid. Stiles was right, it was pretty big headed of him to think Stiles was furiously texting about him. "Are we going to talk here, or do you want to go back to my dorm?"
No way Isaac was giving Stiles the home advantage. "We're going for a drive."
-
Isaac had only had his car for a few months. It was a beater canvas top convertible from the 90's. He liked the idea of having a car that was older than him, one that he could tear apart if the mood struck him.
Stiles did not like it as much. He wasted time walking the perimeter and poking the roof. "Did you get the car facts on this thing?"
The past year and a half hadn't changed Stiles much, as far as Isaac could tell. He still waved his hands and blubbered on like an idiot. Stiles never had any concept of when to stop talking, he talked just to fill the air. Whenever Stiles was kidnapped he probably tried to get his captors to join his MMO guild just to pass the time.
Finally Stiles got in the car and Isaac followed. After a few tries he got the engine running and began the drive off campus. "We're driving?" Stiles asked incredulous. "How do I know you're not part of a new pack and kidnapping me? Are you kidnapping me? Oh my god Isaac don't you dare undo your flimsy redemption act. Everyone's still rooting for you not to be a terrible person."
Theory proven, Isaac couldn't help by smirk. "I'm not kidnapping you. And I'm not in a pack, not really. It's just harder to be overheard if you're on the move."
"Is someone following you? Are there hunters on this campus? Scott and Deaton came here specifically to scope the place out and they said nada."
Deaton had told him as much in an email, but didn't say that Stiles was considering UC Davis too. He should have figured Deaton hadn't driven two and a half hours just for Isaac's sake. He tried to avoid asking Deaton favors, but wasn't about to move from England without any idea of what he was walking into.
"There aren't, we're as safe as it gets." Isaac pulled into a residential area, taking turns at random.
"Then why aren't we cozy in my dorm room? Or yours. Do you live on campus?"
"None of your business," Isaac replied. He had a studio a mile off campus, and was purposely driving in the opposite direction. "Where's everyone else? They're all alive right?"
"Yeah, everyone you know I think. Oh, remember that psych ward girl who was super into you?"
"Yeah."
"Turned out she was evil, putting out contracts to kill people. Crazy, right?"
Isaac glanced at Stiles to see if he was kidding. He wasn't going to ask questions. He could not care about the scooby gang. He had his own life. "Who is Malia?"
"You know Malia."
"No I don't."
"She's the werecoyote. We saved her."
"Oh right." That was a stupid day. It was probably the last time one of Stiles and Scott's random rescue missions turned out alright. "She's alive?"
"Um, yeah." Stiles started fiddling with the sun visor. "She, uh, kind of joined the gang after you left. She and Scott have a place together."
"They're dating?" Isaac asked, not bothering to keep the disgust out of his voice.
"No they're just roommates," Stiles said quickly.
"Thank god. What kind of cognitive stage would she be at after living as a coyote for a decade? That'd be like Scott dating a child."
"It's actually more complicated than you think, but I wouldn't expect you to understand it," Stiles said. "You don't know Malia. She's very normal."
"I seriously doubt that."
Stiles snapped the sun visor shut. "Hey, it's what 80 degrees today? Where's the scarf? I bet France had tons of nifty scarves."
"It did," Isaac replied easily. He didn't wear them as often in America though, it drew more attention than he wanted. Stiles hadn't changed his looks much though. He was wearing a hoodie, but had thankfully given up on message t-shirts. He'd stuck with the long hair, which Isaac had privately thought was a good choice. It made his ears less obvious.
"Have you been in France all this time?" Stiles asked abruptly. "Chris didn't tell us much. Or anything. Like, at all. It was like you didn't go with him."
Isaac chose to ignore any hurt that brought. "There wasn't much to tell. I was in Europe the whole time." He didn't know if he trusted Stiles yet, he wasn't about to spill a blow by blow of the past year an a half.
"Why'd you come back? Europe run out of scarves?"
"For school."
"They don't have schools in France?"
"None of your business" Isaac said. He hadn't taken the time to consider why he only applied to colleges in California, even though it would have been easier to just stay in England. His grandparents asked him a thousand times why, and he never answered. They were very easy to distract. "Why are you going here? Redding is closer to all the action. You can't run around playing hero with Scott from here."
Stiles sighed and crossed his arms. "None of your business."