Isaac really didn't have much to look forward to. His home life was a nightmare. Every moment was spent in constant fear. Would his dad be in a good mood or a bad one? If it was a bad one was it slap across the face bad or weekend locked in the freezer bad? When he wasn't at home, he was at school and that wasn't much better. He worked so hard, but his grades were still not good enough. He wasn't very good at lacrosse either. In fact, he doubted his own teammates even knew he was alive.

There was one bright spot and that was on Tuesday evenings, before he had to be at work. It was then that he met his chemistry tutor in the library. Kat Michaels was a senior. She was captivating in her own little ways. Her eyes were never the same shade of brown. Sometimes they were like honey, sometimes like chocolate. He didn't think anybody else noticed that because of her glasses, but he liked it that way. Today, her eyes were so dark they were almost black.

She was letting her dark auburn hair grow out. He liked the longer length and how it fell in waves. Kat was always pushing it out of her face and he had dreams at night about being the one to do that for her. She must have used some sort of citrus shampoo because every time she touched her hair, Isaac could smell lemons. Sometimes he could still smell it even after their tutoring session was over.

Kat was a bit thicker than the other girls at school and he guessed that was why she dressed like she didn't want to be noticed. Isaac thought she was beautiful and he wanted to tell her so. He saw the tongue piercing and the industrial on her right ear that she thought no one knew about. He thought she looked amazing no matter what, but he didn't have the words to make her see that too.

"Isaac?" Her voice cut through his thoughts.

"Sorry, what?" he said sheepishly.

"Do you understand how I balanced the equation?" she asked patiently.

Isaac really didn't want to look stupid in front of her. He stared for a moment at the paper in front of him before admitting defeat. "I really don't. Sorry."

"That's fine. I'll show you one more time, then I want you to try it."

Her pencil scratched across the paper and she explained each step as she went along, but Isaac was distracted again. This time, not so pleasantly. As he was looking at the little anchor tattoed on her wrist, he noticed blue-black splotches on the pale skin; three next to each other like someone had grabbed her. Isaac's throat went dry. He didn't like the thought of anyone hurting her.

"Isaac, what's with you?" Kat said. "You're daydreaming again."

There was silence as he tried to find his voice. "What happened to your arm?" he finally asked.

Her eyes darted down to her wrist, betraying the lie in the next words she spoke. "What are you talking about?" She folded her hands in her lap. "Come on, we need to work on this. You have a test tomorrow."

Hesitantly, he reached out and took her hand, turning her arm to get a better look. She pulled away and he braced himself for her anger. Obviously that had been the wrong choice and she was going to tell him to leave.

"It was…just, you know…" Her voice faltered and she sighed. "My fault."

Isaac moved a bit closer to her. "It's not. If someone hurt you, it's not your fault."

"Feels like it is," she muttered. She wiped the tears off her cheeks before he had the chance. She took a deep breath and laughed softly. "I can't believe I'm even talking to you about this." That hurt a bit and it must have shown on his face because she followed quickly with, "No, it's not you. What I meant is I can't believe I'm talking to anyone about it."

He could relate better than she knew. "Kat, if someone's hurting you, you need to get help. You need to tell someone…like the guidance counselor or Sheriff Stilinski."

She smiled and nodded, but he doubted she was going to do what he said. "That's good advice," she said.

He was glad she thought so and the way she looked at him made his heart skip a beat. She stood and her lemon smell overwhelmed his senses as she breezed past him on her way out of the library. Isaac hoped she'd listen to him, but he feared she wouldn't. After all, he couldn't even take his own advice.

As always, reality seeped in, dispelling the warmth of their time together and her citrus scent. He gathered his things and left the library. The bike ride home was a blur. Isaac wondered who had hurt Kat. What had they done to her? Should he have pushed her to tell him who it was? Should he have insisted that she go straight to the police?

His mind was with her as his father grilled him about his tutoring session. When Isaac didn't give a good enough answer, his father punched him. He knew there would be a bruise; he just hoped it wouldn't be too bad. He didn't get a chance to really examine it until much later that evening as he was digging a grave. He really didn't like his job. The cemetery creeped him out.

He heard something, but he wasn't sure if it was all in his head or not. Suddenly, he lurched and before he knew what was happening, he was in the grave he had just been digging, heavy machinery blocking any chance of escape. He was pretty sure he was going to die there. He was just starting to come to terms with that when there was a screech and groan of metal.

Isaac squinted up at his mysterious rescuer. "Need a hand?"