this love; scott mccall

part 1 [fourteen years before]

//

Alicia Woods is sitting in Scott McCall's wedding with a glass of wine in her hand and tears in her eyes and really, everything should be perfect, everything should be great.  Because her best friend is happy and dancing with his wife and leaning in to kiss her. Because the food taste wonderful and the music is quite lovely. Because all of her friends are laughing and taking pictures and generally having a good time.

Yeah, everything should be perfect.

But in reality, Alicia's holding back a sob in her throat and oh God, she's fucked everything up again. She's sitting alone in a table while everybody is dancing and her best friend —the love of her life, her soulmate —now officially belongs to someone who isn't her.

Alicia has officially fucked up again.

She should probably start from the beginning.

//

22 YEARS PREVIOUSLY

It all starts when Alicia meets Scott, all those blissful years ago. On the sixth of June, with the sun shining high up in the sky and the sounds of birds chirping through the air. They're probably only four years old, Scott being a few months older than Alicia, when they stumble across each other in the Woods's living room. Jake and Abby had invited their new neighbor from across the street and in return, Melissa McCall dragged a reluctant Scott to formally meet the neighborhood.

(To this day, Scott is still thankful to his mother for making him meet Alicia but he's never voiced the sentiment out loud, even to his blonde best friend.)

Melissa leaves Scott in the living room to watch TV while Alicia busies herself finishing the painting her chubby hands can barely draw. She's sitting in the kitchen, listening to her father talking to Melissa about some new sports event that she and her mother can barely stand and when she finally finishes (she hands it to Abby for approval and Abby smiles before taping it to the fridge) Alicia drops down to the floor and hurries to the living room, excited and a bit nervous to meet Scott McCall.

Scott McCall is firmly seated in the middle of the couch when Alicia pops out from the kitchen. Alicia's blonde hair is tied in a low bun and there's paint on her cheeks and smudges of crayon underneath her fingernails. She cheekily grins at Scott, who raises an eyebrow at her disheveled look.

(Scott will soon get used to seeing Alicia like this, because the blonde hardly ever cleans up after herself.)

"Hi," Alicia says, sticking her hand out for Scott to take.

Scott doesn't move. Instead, he wrinkles his nose and says, ever so haughtily, "You're messy."

"But artists are always messy," Alicia whines, pouting as she pulls her hand back.

"No, they aren't," Scott insists, "They've got those aprons to keep the paint off their face."

Alicia frowns, probably not realizing that she does have paint on her face. She raises her hands and tries to wipe it off, but without a mirror to help, she only manages to smudge it even further across her cheeks. Scott, who has been watching with half exasperation and half amusement, rolls his brown eyes and gets off the couch. He grabs a hanky from the pocket of his jumper and stands over Alicia, who is a few inches shorter.

"Stop," he says, "you're going to get it in your mouth and you'll die of paint poisoning."

Alicia's jaw drops and she whispers, "Does that really happen?"

"I read about it."

Tears form in Alicia's eyes. Oh no. She's probably going to give up painting for the rest of her life and live as a hobo and die in the streets with no one to remember her name and it's all so sad, because her imagination's a bit wild, when all of a sudden, Scott laughs. It's a delightful laugh, which quietly turns into a giggle when Alicia glares at him.