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A Living Trust

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Scott cast a venomous glare at the person before him. He didn’t remember the last time he had been so furious with someone. As tense as he felt, his wolf was nowhere to be found. This was all human. Anger, betrayal. Scott felt sick with it.

“How could you?” he seethed dangerously.

Isaac stood before him, wearing his misery like a second skin.

“I didn’t,” Isaac insisted plaintively. Shoulders drooped. Eyes pleading. “I wouldn’t.”

“I saw you, Isaac!” roared Scott. “Don’t lie to me. You even smell like her.”

“I’m not… I don’t…” he responded weakly, his left hand running through his hair, pulling, grimacing as he searched for the right thing to say, some way to get through to his friend. He held his hands out in supplication. “Scott…”

“Don’t,” growled Scott, shaking his head. He turned and stalked away before he did something he would regret. Like cry.

He left the house, revving up his motorcycle unnecessarily, and then raced off at breakneck speed, only one destination in mind.

 

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He stared at the carpet in front of the Argent’s door for a minute before finally knocking. Allison answered.

“Scott,” she said, surprised at his appearance. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” she added, upon noting the scowl on his face.

“I need to ask you something,” he said. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” She opened the door wider to let him through before closing it.

He walked into the room.

“So, what is it you needed to ask me?”

He took a deep breath as he looked at her.

“I saw you and Isaac earlier today,” he began and watched the recognition flash in her eyes that told him she knew exactly what he was talking about. “At school. In an empty classroom. Kissing.”

She crossed her arms and stared back at him stiffly, resolutely. And, unlike Isaac, she didn’t offer any denials.

“Okay.”

“That’s all you have to say?” he asked in surprise.

“We’re not dating anymore, Scott,” she stated plainly. “I can kiss whoever I want.”

“And you wanted to kiss Isaac?”

She raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Isaac’s been around a lot lately. Apparently, at your request. And maybe I’ve been feeling a little lonely.”

Her answer struck him harder than he was prepared. He looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in a long time, as if pulling focus onto a blurry image and seeing her with all the little nuances. She was a beautiful woman, independent and strong. She deserved to be happy. He wanted her to be happy.

But, why, God why did it have to be with Isaac?

He swallowed before attempting his next question. “So, are you going to continue seeing him?”

She snorted in amusement, looking at him in confusion. “No.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You said you saw us so you must have seen how the kiss ended.”

Scott shook his head, brow furrowing. “I’d seen enough.”

“Well, then you obviously missed the most flattering part, when Isaac jumped away from me like I was the kanima, or something.”

“You kissed him?” Scott asked, searching for clarification. “And he pushed you away?”

“Hearing my ex-boyfriend repeat it is even more flattering now than when it actually happened,” she sighed with a self-deprecating smile.

It was one thing to watch your ex-girlfriend kissing someone else, no matter who they were. It was quite another thing to accuse one of your best friends of treachery. Scott began replaying the confrontation he had earlier with Isaac. Who was the betrayer now? To not have given Isaac the benefit of the doubt when all Isaac had ever been was a loyal and steadfast friend. If possible, Scott felt even sicker.

“I’m sorry,” said Allison. “I know you and Isaac are close. I’m…sorry.”

“Yeah,” Scott quietly agreed. “I’ve gotta go.”

His mind spinning, he headed for the exit.

“Scott,” she called, just as he opened the door. He turned back.

“I didn’t do it to hurt you,” she said.

“I know,” he replied softly.

 

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Once outside, Scott leaned against his motorcycle for a minute to process everything that had happened. He sighed heavily, rubbing his hands over his eyes and up through his hair in frustration. His rumination was interrupted by the ringtone of his cell phone. It was Stiles.

“Hey,” said Scott. “What’s going on?”

“That’s what I was wondering,” replied Stiles.

“What do you mean? Did something happen?”

“I got a weird text from Isaac, basically looking for a potential place to crash. Did you throw him out?”

“What? No.”

“Okaay, so, is there something that happened to make him think that you’re throwing him out?”

Scott hesitated, not really wanting to get into it.

“There was a misunderstanding,” he explained.

“A misunderstanding like he borrowed your toothbrush without asking or a misunderstanding like he suddenly began speaking Elven, which actually doesn’t make sense because then why would I have understood his text? Although, maybe his phone automatically translates, or mine does, which would be cool…”

“I thought he kissed Allison,” interrupted Scott.

“You…wait, what?”

“So I yelled at him,” he added quickly.

“Oh, man. No wonder he thinks you’re kicking him out.”

“Don’t you even want to know what happened?”

“Well, I know he didn’t kiss her.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because, she’s your ex-girlfriend. Your first love. Making her totally off-limits to anyone running the McCall flag up their flagpole. You know, guy code stuff. Of course, that’s not even relevant in this case.”

“Why isn’t it relevant?”

Stiles didn’t answer immediately.

“You don’t see it, do you?” Stiles prodded, gently.

“See what?” asked Scott hesitantly.

“See the way Isaac looks at you, like you hung the moon. You’re his superman, dude. The guy loves you. He would do anything for you. Much like me, of course. I love you, too. Don’t want to forget your best friend, old buddy, old Stiles. But, I think he loves you in a different way too. In a ‘I want to get naked and make sweet love to you all night long to the strains of Phil Collins’ sort of way.’”

“Stiles…”

“I’m just saying,” remarked Stiles. “It’s a groovy kind of love.”

“He doesn’t like me like that.”

“Are you so sure? Or are you scared and maybe just not ready…”

“I’ve gotta go,” interrupted Scott, not wanting to continue the conversation.

“Go where?”

“I’m hanging up.”

“That’s right, be a chicken. Scott problems. Too many people love me. I wish…”

“I’m going through a tunnel,” declared Scott, ending the call.

 

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Isaac was slouched on the couch watching TV when Scott quietly walked into the living room.

“Hey,” said Scott, startling the lanky teenager.

Isaac sat up stiffly and drew back into the corner of the couch, clutching a pillow in his lap. “Hey.”

Scott sat down facing Isaac. Isaac’s hair was wet from taking a shower, the smell of Allison no longer on him. Scott was the one who smelled vaguely of Allison now.

“You talked to her,” said Isaac, voice tinged with hope.

“Isaac,” began Scott. “I’m really sorry. I should’ve trusted you. I…I’m sorry I was such a dick.”

Isaac took a breath, his whole body relaxing in that one action. His shoulders no longer stiff with tension, he raised one briefly in a shrug. “It’s okay.”

And it was that easy. Isaac’s forgiveness. Scott wondered at it for a moment. He felt sure he wasn’t worthy of such clemency. Or for any of that which Isaac offered him so freely – his devotion, his support, his…affection.

He knew the truth of what Stiles had said. He wasn’t as clueless as he seemed at times. But feelings were complicated things and, currently, he just didn’t have all the answers.

“So, are we good?” asked Isaac, feeling the need to clarify where they stood.

Scott’s mouth curled up into a fond smile. He had this answer. “Yeah, we’re good.”

A timid grin lit up Isaac’s face like dry wood catching fire. Scott marveled at its innocence, while simultaneously vowing to make sure it had no reason to waver on his account.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” asked Scott.

“No, I wasn’t really hungry.”

Isaac’s stomach took that moment to grumble loudly, causing them both to chuckle.

“You want to go get something to eat? My treat," offered Scott.

“Yeah, sure, but you don’t have to…”

“Yes, I do,” insisted Scott. “Come on, your choice. Where would you like to go?”

Isaac raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Mexican?”

“Sounds good,” smiled Scott.