“Um, Isaac?” Summer glanced up. “Oh, you changed back!” Her tone was coloured with surprise and disappointment. “I — my car is over there.” She pointed. “D-do you need a ride home?”
Frowning in bewilderment at the tone to her voice, Isaac simply nodded, wordlessly trying to convey that whilst she wasn’t recoiling in revulsion at his changes, the other residents of Beacon Hills might not be as forgiving. “Please,” he murmured lowly and fought the tempting urge to curl in on himself, wondering if and when she’d demand further explanations.
The car wasn’t that far away. She was pretty sure she could hobble over to it — “You can put me down now. I don’t think you can hold me while I’m driving, chere.” She leaned on him, though, with a sigh of relief, despite the ache in her ankle. She just sat for a moment after getting in the car, not even putting the key in the ignition. “I don’t understand,” she said, limply, staring at the wheel.