Battle Scars » Liam Dunbar [Book 2]

12; Damnatio Memoriae

As I started to cross the hall, I paused, noticing a large board in Scott's room. I watched as my brother bent over and picked up a picture and a piece of paper, pinning them both to the board. There were loads of photographs and newspaper clippings all linked together by pieces of red string. Scott stood back, admiring his work. I watched as he lifted his hand in confusion. A piece of the string was attached to his jacket and he tugged on it, consequently knocking most of the things off the board. He let out a groan of frustration and threw the piece of string to the floor. I stifled a laugh. When he finally looked over and noticed me leaning against the doorway, he sighed. "Shut up."

I held my hands up in defence. "I didn't say anything."

"Your face did."

I chuckled and stepped inside his room, bending down and picking up a couple of photographs. "You doing Stiles' work now?" It came out harsher than I had intended and Scott slowly let out a long sigh, sitting down on the bed. "Hey, I'm sorry," I apologised, sitting down beside him. "That was out of line."

"It doesn't matter," he mumbled.

"You know, things will all work out in the end. You and Stiles have been through so much together. It will work itself out in the end, I promise."

"Maybe you're right," he replied sadly.

"Maybe?" I shook my head with a light chuckle. "What do you mean maybe? I'm always right."

Scott raised his eyebrows at me and I smiled. "Okay, whatever. Sometimes I'm right."

Silence lapsed around us for a moment until he turned to face me. "We didn't get to talk properly the other night. You ran out on me."

I bit my lip, looking away from him. I didn't want to talk about what was going on with me. It's not that I felt like I couldn't talk to my brother- we used to talk all the time. But it's different now. Scott already had too much to deal with and he didn't need more. "I um-" I glanced down at my phone, checking the time, trying to find any kind of excuse. "I need to go." I stood up quickly but Scott grabbed my hand.

"Becca, please. Talk to me."

"I have to go," I said, heading towards the door as quickly as I could.

"You can always talk to me. You know that right?"

"I know," I plastered on a fake smile. "But I'm fine I'll see you later."

I rushed out of the room without another word, trying to forget about the sad, pained look Scott had on his face.

~

"Hey," I said, dropping my bag down on the grass. Brett looked up at me with the same old annoying smirk he always had, causing me to roll my eyes.

"You actually came?"

I frowned, sitting down beside him. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Considering the way things ended the last time we spoke-" he cut off, shaking his head. "I guess you didn't just come to make out with me again, did you?" He then raised his eyebrows, a grin curling at his lips. "Or did you?"

I hit his shoulder, causing him to laugh. "In your dreams, Talbot."

"Okay, but seriously," he turned to face me. "Why did you come? I thought you hated me."

"Honestly," I sighed. "You're one of the least problematic people in my life right now."

"I'll take that as a compliment, shall I?"

"No," I dead-panned. "I'm kidding, I don't really care. Whatever boosts the ego. Anyway, what's up?"

"Huh?"