All We Are

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

"Are you a ghost?" I had been coming to the cemetery every day for a week now and had just worked up the courage to ask him. We were lying between the headstones gazing up at the sky watching clouds.

He laughed. I loved hearing him laugh because it always sounded like he was surprised he could actually do it. He sat up and gazed down at me a curl sliding into his face.

"Why do you think I'm a ghost?" He asked considering my question for a moment.

"Because you're always here. I never see you anywhere else in town and Stiles and Scott said that if the only place I ever see you is a graveyard then you must be a ghost." I said staring up into Isaac's blue eyes as if I could find the answer there.

He looked like he was thinking about something but then he started laughing again.

"Well when you put it like that, I guess I'd have to be a ghost."

"Isaac. I'm serious."

"No, Charlie I'm not a ghost. My dad owns the cemetery, and my brother works here. Since Camden's going away to school in August, I've been coming with him to spend more time with him."

"Oh." I felt bad. "I can leave so you can hang out with your brother if you want." I offered.

"Nah. He's on the backhoe today, and I'm not allowed on it."

"Good," I said without thinking.

I didn't want to go away. He smiled and laid back down watching the clouds again.

"Isaac?"

"Charlie?"

"What's a backhoe?"

"Charlie?" Darius was staring at me kindly from behind the desk my Dad was off to the side watching. He had been taken off the case because of me.

"Sorry, what was the question?" I asked.

Darius smiled at me.

"How long have you known Isaac?"

"Four and a half years, why is Isaac in trouble?" I asked turning to my dad.

"Did you know Isaac's father was abusing him?" Darius asked avoiding my question.

It was two days after Aunt Claudia's funeral. I had run to the cemetery because I couldn't go anywhere else. Dad was helping Uncle John, Scott was with Stiles, but I didn't have anybody. I shouldn't have had anybody, she wasn't my mother, but she was the closest thing I had to one and she was gone. I just wanted to escape, I wanted somebody I could lean on, I didn't want to have to put on a brave face and help anymore.

I hadn't come expecting to see him; I had come to yell at my aunt for leaving. But I hadn't started in on her long when I heard that familiar voice.

"Who are you talking to?" I turned around.

He had a hoodie on, but I knew it was him. I ran to him and wrapped my arms around him, too hurt to worry about what he would think. He hesitated for a second before returning it.

"You were right, it's not easier it's harder. It's so much harder she's gone, and she's not coming back and I feel bad because I know she was Stiles' mom and not mine, but she felt like mine." I cried into his chest.

He rocked me a little in his arms and patted my back.

"I know, but it gets easier I promise." He whispered. I looked up at him, I was going to ask him "when" but then I saw it, the purple bruise covering his left eye.