𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑡𝑦 𝑙𝑎𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑦 ~ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐫

chapter two

chapter two:
umbrella

"Fuck!" Isaac shouted, the word echoing around his bedroom as he slammed the door shut. His school bag dropped with a solid thud by his feet.

Today was probably the worst day he had had in a while. It rivaled the day he'd gotten arrested and the day he was kicked from his house. 

"Watch the door!" The voice of his grandma carried from the kitchen up the stairs and into his room.

"Sorry." Isaac mumbled, paying no mind that she wouldn't be able to hear that answer. Isaac groaned, muttering to himself, glancing at the open window.

Almost as if on cue, a shudder shot down his spine. Another groan, this one much angrier. Isaac forced his feet to move, trudging over to window and mumbling to himself.

"Happy Fucking Friday." He muttered to himself, fingers wrapping around the window. He grunted, straining as he forced the window shut. "Shit!"

He swiped away at the water that had sprayed onto his desk. "Dammit! Fucking stupid ass goddamn fucking rain. Stupid. Project's all ruined."

Isaac did not like the rain. Almost as much as he didn't like ice skating. "Fuck you, rain."

A disbelieving chuckle left his lips and he shook his head as it dawned on him.

he was talking to the literal weather. He thought his habit of talking to himself was bad, but now he was talking to weather.

Isaac almost turned around to wallow in his sadness in his bed (almost) but something, or someone, caught his eye before he had the chance to.

Nancy. Motherfucking. Wheeler.

His breath hitched in his throat, nerves running rampant at the sight of her. Isaac wished he had the ability to describe her, but words were never his forte. Only one word would come to mind. perfect. Utterly perfect.

She'd been, conveniently, in his science class every year since the accident. He assumed it was dumb luck, though it didn't matter what it was. It only mattered that Nancy was the only one who never treated him differently, though he could tell she thought of him differently.

Isaac may be dumb, but he wasn't stupid. He saw it in her eyes during their, albeit extremely limited conversations, he could see the judgment. The fear. She was afraid of him.

Despite knowing this, Isaac couldn't help but admire her. How could he not? Isaac couldn't help himself. Nancy was too pretty not to admire.

Oftentimes he'd catch himself watching her in class, mind drifting to what it would be like to know her. To know the intricacies of her life. From what keeps her awake at night to as simple as how she takes her coffee, if she even drinks coffee. Isaac wanted to know that, too.

Isaac could barely make out the struggling girl through the sheet of water pelting the small town. Isaac wasn't much of a thinker, and that's how he found himself rushing down the stairs to help.

"Isaac!" The boy froze at the sound of his grandmother's voice. He cringed, shoulders tensing as he slowly turned around. "What are you doing? You'll catch your death out there!"