ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴅ | ɪ.ɢ

012

[TWELVE]

* . °•★𝓢𝓪𝔂𝓵𝓸𝓻☆•° . * 

ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴅᴀʏ, ɪ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴏɴ ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ, ʜᴀʀᴅ, ʀᴜɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɴᴀᴛʜᴀɴ. We made to mile three before he looked over at me and then said, slightly breathless because of the exercise,

"Are you okay? You just seemed kinda off today." 

I glanced sideways at him. "Me? I'm...fine. I'm fine." 

He eyed me before focusing his gaze on the road in front of us. "Something I've learned throughout my life is that fine rarely ever means fine. Is this about what happened last night?" 

My face fell and I suddenly became very interested on an old tree ahead of us. 

"So it is about that. Look, Isaac didn't mean—"

"It doesn't matter." I cut Nathan off and then put my other earbud in, turning up my music until all I could hear was the song. I could see Nathan sigh out of the corner of my eye, but I pretended not to notice. It didn't matter if 'Isaac didn't mean it'. That sweatshirt was the only thing I had left of my dad. I had barely taken it off in the weeks after the accident. But now, it was ruined, and I had nothing left.

I felt my eyes start to water and I turned my music up louder, up to the loudest point, drowning out my thoughts. Now was not the time nor the place. 

We finished our run around half an hour later and I went straight into the shower now designated for Jackie, Parker, Benny, and I. No one tried to talk to me, and secretly, I was glad. Even Jackie was keeping her space. The warm water hit my body and I shut my eyes, trying to clear my mind and think about nothing. To not think about how my dad's sweatshirt was ruined and how Isaac was such a dick for doing it and how—

Damn it. This wasn't working. 

I had just gotten out of the shower and changed into a tank top and sweatpants and was busy brushing my hair when a knock sounded at my door.

"Come in!" I called, running my fingers through a few knots that still remained. My door opened tentatively, and Isaac Garcia, the kind of assholery himself, stepped inside.

My expression immediately went cold as I set the brush down.

"What do you want?"

"To give you this." He handed me a bundle of white cloth before walking over to my bed and sitting down. I unfolded the cloth to find—

"My dad's sweatshirt? You...you got the stain out." I said in a quiet voice, staring at the fabric with my jaw open slightly. Isaac nodded. 

"I stayed up all night with Aunt Katherine until we figured out how to fix it. Look, last night...there's a fine line between what's okay and what isn't...and...what I did wasn't okay. I'm not going to make excuses or anything...I just want to say I'm sorry." 

I looked up at him, and then pulled the sweatshirt over my head. 

"Thank you." I said at last. Then, I narrowed my eyes at him. "Don't think that this got you on my good side, Garcia. I still hate you." 

He laughed and then walked over to me. "It's mutual. And I wouldn't expect anything less, Quinn-Howard. But it's glad to know I'm not on your 'I want to murder' list anymore. So...are we good?" 

I laughed, and then, without thinking, I pulled him into a hug. 

Isaac's arms immediately wrapped around me, pulling me close to him. The smell of his cologne filled my nose as his chin rested on the top of my head. We stayed like that for a few seconds.

And then, I realized what exactly I was doing and who I was doing it with, and jumped backwards, my face turning red. 

"I...uh...that didn't happen." I said quickly as Isaac looked at me with an overdramatic expression of disgust on his face. 

"Most definitely not." He replied. "People will think you've gone soft, Saylor." 

"Watch it, dipshit. I know where you keep your leather jacket." 

He laughed and messed my hair. "And there she is."

I indignantly fixed it, stood, and started pushing him by his shoulders towards the door. "Now get out of my room. I have important stuff to do."

"Like what?" 

"Pretending you don't exist." 

He smirked and ran a hand through his hair. "That's impossible. No one can pretend I don't exist." 

"You're funny." I said as I managed to get him out of my room. "I've been doing an excellent job since the day I got here." 

And before he could respond I shut the door in his face. 

"Then I guess I'll have to make it more difficult for you!" He called through the door. 

"You do that!" I replied, before walking over to my bed and collapsing on it and staring up at the ceiling. A few seconds later, another knock sounded at my door.

"Isaac, I know you said you were going to make it difficult but not now, please—" I called out, but then the door opened and Jackie walked inside. 

"What did Isaac do—wait. Dad's sweatshirt?!" She studied it carefully, her eyes wide. I sat up. 

"Yeah. Isaac got the stain out." 

Jackie raised her eyebrow as she climbed onto her bed and leaned against the pillow. 

"Isaac did that."

"Yeah."

"Really." She looked at me as though she was trying to prove a point. I looked at her, confused, and then she continued. "Why?" 

"Um...because he felt bad and because he's human, not a monster?" 

"Saylor!" Jackie threw her pillow across the room at me. "Are you that blind?!?" 

I batted the pillow away indignantly. "What?"

"Maybe, just maybe, he fixed your sweater because he's into you! Have you even thou—" But she couldn't finish her sentence because at that moment I threw the pillow back across the room, hitting her in the face. Then, I rolled over onto my side.

"Jackie, he hates me. You know that."

"Okay...but just so you know, a person who hates you wouldn't stay up all night fixing something they screwed up just for you." 

*. °•★•°. *