Rise

Chapter Nine

*I don't own Teen Wolf.*

This chapter contains underage drinking,.

~edited, hallelujah~

☾☾☾

        "Alright, you take the right, I'll take the left," Bobby said, shoving a crumpled post-it note into my hand.

        "No way," I said, shoving it back and ripping the other one from his grasp.  "Last time you bought me vanilla almond milk.  I'll take left, you go right."

        Bobby opened his mouth to argue, but I raised my eyebrows and set my jaw.  Recognizing defeat, his shoulders slumped and he turned to stalk off in the direction of the produce section, muttering swear words loud enough for a nearby mother of two to scowl at him and herd her children in the opposite direction.

        Grocery shopping was no small ordeal for the Finstock family.  There were negotiations and briberies abound.  Arguments over the health merits of Sun Chips (I loved them, he tried to make me eat kale chips instead) and small wars were fought over whether dark chocolate was considered junk food.  Thankfully, the one area I was unopposed was tea.  I was allowed to sample as many as I'd like and we'd had to devote an entire cupboard to the mountain of boxes I'd collected.

        It was a world apart from life with my dad, who considered pizza to be a balanced diet.  Yeah, congress said pizza was a vegetable, and Dad would never let that go.

        "Greek yogurt," I muttered, lip curling.  He even bought plain yogurt, yuck.  I selected a honey sweetened variant and added it to my hand cart, smug with my victory.  I'd been fulfilling my part of the list, oh yes. But I tried to remedy the boring, bland, and sometimes downright gross picks the best I could.  I turned and stopped short, almost falling backwards at my loss of balance.  A large hand grasped my elbow to steady me.  

        "Uh- hi," I said, head tilted to look up at the tall boy invading my personal space.  Blond curls, blue eyes, leather jacket.  Hard to forget that face, but I couldn't quite recall his name.  All I remembered was Stiles hated him.  He was as attractive under fluorescent lights with oldies radio playing over the speaker system as he had been in the darkened club.  That was a feat not just anyone could pull off.

        "Ah, sorry," he said, taking a step back as he seemed to realize he was in my bubble.

        "Scott's friend, right?" I asked, shifting my basket to my other arm as it began to weigh me down.

        "Isaac," he said, chin tilted down while he looked a little sheepish.

        "Rory," I supplied, assuming he had forgotten my name as well.  "Doing a little shopping?"  I gave him a once over, noting his lack of items and basket.

        "Er- yeah," he said, blue eyes widening.  He reached over and picked up a box off the shelf.  "Just needed..." he looked at what he was holding, "some butter."

        "Um, okay," I said, shifting uncomfortably.  "Well, I better finish this off before my uncle discovers I'm-"

        "Roar!  Did you find the Greek yogurt?  It has to be Greek, not that Activia bullsh-"  Bobby strode up, falling off as he saw I was talking to someone.

        "Yes," I said, trying to look innocent as I held the basket out of his line of sight.  "No problem."

        "Lahey," Bobby said, blinking in surprise.  "What are you doing here?"  He looked from Isaac's pink cheeks to my wide eyes and I watched as his brows lowered over his eyes, which started to do the crazy thing.  I recognized this look easily enough, he wore it whenever Stiles dropped me off or picked me up.