Spellbound

Melissa McCall is a kind woman. She has a warm disposition and asks Isaac a lot of questions. She doesn’t inquire about his family or why he’s eating dinner with her and her son on a Friday night. She doesn’t ask why he has such dark bags under his eyes or why he flinched when she set out the dishes. She doesn’t ask much of anything Isaac doesn’t want to talk about. He’s thankful for that.

Scott offers to scrape the plates and load the dishwasher. Feeling obligated, Isaac offers to help Melissa put away the leftovers. She eyes the table, then him, and laughs. She’d nearly ordered one of everything on the menu and the boys barely left a crumb to show for it.

“You’re a guest, Isaac,” she says. He tenses as she grips his shoulder — not tight, but in that motherly sort of way. It’s been a long time since he felt that sort of contact.

Melissa joins her son in the kitchen and immediately engages him in conversation. She’s telling him about her day — what she’d done during her shift, what sort of emergencies came in, who they had to defer to other hospitals — and Isaac feels suffocated by the normalcy. He's waiting for a plate to fall to the floor and shatter, for Melissa to raise her voice and start berating Scott, for anything terrible to happen. That's his normal.

Scott pokes his head around the frame of the archway that leads to the kitchen, a bemused expression on his face. Isaac isn’t sure it ever went away. “Want some ice cream?”

The idea of eating ice cream baffles Isaac. It’s so child-like, so innocent. He shrugs as to not make things awkward and Scott motions for him to join him and his mother in the kitchen. Melissa is digging toppings out of a cabinet while Scott sets up the tubs of ice cream on the counter. He hands Isaac a bowl before he digs into the vanilla.

“Scott!” Melissa is laughing as she scolds him, looking amused and exasperated all at once. “I just bought that! You can’t eat the whole thing.”

Isaac looks just as out of place as he feels. He wonders if he’s in a dream, off in a make-believe world where all families are happy and whole and don’t hurt one another. He wonders if his stomach hurts because he ate too much or because he’s upset, and he hopes he isn’t upset because he doesn’t want to make a scene in front of the McCalls. He takes a moment to dwell on the way the porcelain bowl feels in his hands. His eyes close tightly as he remembers the last dinner he shared with his father.

When he comes to, Melissa’s the only one left in the kitchen. The television is on in another room and Isaac assumes that’s where Scott went. “Don’t force yourself if you’re not hungry,” Melissa says. “You’ll get a stomachache.”

Isaac nods, not bothering to tell her he already has one. He spoons himself a few helpings of strawberry ice cream and accepts the sprinkles when Melissa hands them over. They’re multicolored and probably taste like wax, but Isaac doesn’t care. His own mother used to let him get the same kind when he was little.

He joins the McCalls in the living room, where they’re watching a baseball game and cheering for opposing teams. Isaac doesn’t know why they’re doing this and is too embarrassed to ask. He isn’t in on the joke and doesn’t want to intrude. He sits cross-legged on the floor, watching-but-not-really-watching the TV and listening-but-not-really-listening to the conversation Scott is having with his mom.

In another world, Isaac imagines he would be jealous of the relationship Scott has with his mother. It’s everything he wishes he could’ve had with his own, but some part of him isn’t letting him feel it. Instead, he watches an opposing player get thrown out at the plate and feels numb. The ice cream doesn’t help, just makes him feel colder, and Isaac tells himself to get used to it.

On the television, the people in the stands erupt in cheers as a player on the home team hits a home run. Melissa jumps up from the couch and does some sort of dance while Scott groans and covers his face with a pillow. It’s a moment Isaac feels guilty for witnessing because he doesn’t belong in it. He’s just there, mucking up a good thing.

Scott’s cell phone vibrates on the coffee table; upon inspecting it, Scott announces it’s Allison and excuses himself. Shaking her head, the corners of Melissa’s mouth tug upwards. “Are you seeing anyone, Isaac?” she asks.

He doesn’t know what to say. No, I’m not seeing anyone, but I have been creepily watching someone from afar for a while doesn’t sound good any way he tries to splice it. So he answers with an honest, “No.” Silence takes over after Isaac’s clipped answer and, hoping to fill the remains, Isaac follows up by asking, “Are you?”

After spending so much time making someone angry and violent, it’s weird for Isaac to grasp that his question makes Melissa laugh; or, at the very least, smile. “I’m not seeing anyone, either,” she responds. Isaac’s halfway through thinking up a reply when she continues. “I went on a few dates with a guy a while back, but it didn’t work out.” She doesn’t elaborate and Isaac finally feels like he isn’t meant to make conversation. He’s finally able to relax.

While Scott’s gone, Melissa explains what’s happening in the game. Although Isaac is on the lacrosse team, it was always more to get out of the house than because he has an inclination for sports. He asks questions every now and then because he feels like he can; like he isn’t going to be called a fucking idiot or be told he’s stupid. There’s something about Melissa — and Scott, too, by extension — that makes him feel comfortable and welcome.

When Scott returns, he’s sporting a bashful expression and lingers awkwardly by the couch. Melissa doesn’t bother to look at him when she asks, “What do you want?”

“Allison invited me to a party,” he says, kicking at imaginary dirt on the floor. “Can I go?”

Isaac can see Melissa’s eyes roll but Scott can’t. “What if Isaac doesn’t want to go to this party? Are you just going to leave him?”

All at once, Isaac’s body feels five-hundred degrees. Someone considered him, considered his feelings and opinions. Scott just looks at his mother as if she’d gone crazy. “He’s invited, too. Come on, Mom, I’m not a jerk.” Scott McCall saying he isn’t a jerk is a bit like saying Canada is cold in the winter.

“If Isaac wants to go, I don’t care, but you have to be back by—”

“I know,” Scott interrupts. “No drinking, and I have to be back by one with enough gas for you to get to work in the morning.” (Melissa works weekend shifts often instead of working nights so she can have dinner with Scott and make his lacrosse games.)

“What do you wanna do, man?” Scott asks.

Isaac has never been to a party before. “Who’s going to be there?”

“Allison, Lydia, Stiles, Danny, probably a few more guys from the team. Sheridan Nell invited her, so—”

“Yeah,” Isaac says quickly. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

Scott looks as shocked as Isaac feels. “Are you sure?” he questions.

Isaac tries to shrug nonchalantly, but he’s sure it looks like he’s twitching haphazardly. “Yeah, it sounds like it’ll be fun.”

Unlike his best friend, Scott knows when to shut up and be happy with the answer he receives. This is one of those times, and after offering Isaac a warmer coat, he grabs his mom’s car keys from the bowl by the door and locks it up behind him. Isaac situates himself in the passenger seat and tries to swallow his nerves.

On the way there, Scott sings along to a series of songs on the radio that Isaac has never heard and plays imaginary drums on the steering wheel. It’s so simple, yet Isaac is sure he’s never had that much fun in his life. He inhales deeply and reminds himself that those days are behind him now; this is his chance to start over.

When they arrive at the party, it’s as if someone pushed pause. Everyone stops and stares, some jaws drop, and everyone starts speaking in hushed whispers. Isaac knows they’re talking about him. A few people still clung to the idea that he’d killed his father and stood in awe of him. This gives Isaac the faintest hint of confidence, and there’s a pip in his step as he treks over the lawn behind Scott.

He picks her voice out of the crowd easily. She’s laughing again, listening to a story told by someone whose voice Isaac doesn’t recognize. She offers oh my gods every now and then, unaware of how badly Isaac’s hands are trembling just from hearing them.

“There’s Allison and Lydia,” Scott says, nodding to where his girlfriend and friend are standing. Isaac is surprised Stiles isn’t breathing down Lydia’s neck, but he’s nowhere to be found. “Do you want to stay with us?”

He hears Sheridan talking to someone different. “I’ll find you in a minute. I have to use the bathroom,” he lies. Scott hears his heart rate pick up and knows he’s lying, but doesn’t mention it.