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"Motherfff..."

Isaac figures this has to be some kind of retribution or revenge or something that the universe is conspiring against him because he's been avoiding Beacon Hills to try not to cope with the weird shit and instead, it happens to him here, again. After the last time he'd spent a few weeks as a girl, he's pretty sure it's the one thing that makes him distrust the hotel and maybe the one thing that makes him think that hiding out here isn't as safe as he wants to think it is and yeah, maybe he should go home.

Right now, though, he's coping with the fact that he'd jogged inside from his run, walked through the front door, of all places, and suddenly his clothes are too big again and the hair is all over his face and one quick glance down shows him yup, he's got a rack again.

Isaac tips his head to the ceiling, frustration singing through him as he wonders why the hell he can't just get a normal sign from the universe, like a signed note or something. Hell, even a voicemail would've been nice, but instead he's got to deal with this.

Letting out a frustrated breath, Isaac hikes his way to the nearest sofa and sits down so he can bend over to retie the sneakers that are suddenly way too big for his feet. He'd wandered in and out of the front door, but nothing. At this point, he's wondering if maybe the only thing that will let him go back to normal is going back to Beacon Hills.

He needs to find the door first and right now, he needs to fix his shoes and get a ridiculous amount of hair out of his face. He blows strands of it out of his eyes with the force of sheer frustration, blinking rapidly when his vision clears and he finds that he's so not alone.

"Uh, hey?" Isaac offers, peering down and slapping a hand to his chest when his tank top is way more revealing than it was when he left for his run. Cheeks flushed red, he lets out another vivid curse under his breath and slumps back against the padded couch. "I'm not trying to flash you, I swear."

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"That's the problem," Isaac says, pushing both hands over his hair, trying to keep it from getting in his face. "It's not that being a girl is bad or anything, but I'm a wolf, April. I can't handle girl and wolf at the same time, I can barely control one," he says, staring down at the baggy clothes. "Yeah, I was stuck like it for a while," he complains. "I got a couple things for my wardrobe."

He nods towards his room, arms crossed over his chest. "Do you know how to braid hair or something to get it out of my face?"

"I think you can do more than you give yourself credit for," April replied, but didn't press. Isaac was always doubting himself, but in her experience, he was capable of a lot more than he wanted to acknowledge.

Hefting her bag onto her shoulder, she nodded. "Sure, I can help you with your hair," she said, barely suppressing a smile.

Isaac gives a small huff, not exactly sure he believes that, but then again, he'd had to cope with the hotel damage and his claws slashing into things that meant he'd never get a security deposit back (if that existed here). "Don't look like that," he accuses. "I mean, I get that this is probably hilarious, but you could look maybe a fraction less like you're enjoying it." Still, he turns so that April can get at the hair, which feels a bit frizzy from the sweat after his run.

Instead of taking up the offered hair, April firmly placed both hands on Isaac's shoulders from behind and directed him toward the door to his room.

"Change first, then we can worry about your hair," she said. "Like how it needs to be brushed and maybe washed before I touch it. Last I checked, sweat wasn't great for styling."

Isaac's shoulders slump slightly, the teenage boy in his brain really not loving the idea of having to go through extra work. He kind of hates it, but he knows April and already knows there's no point in arguing when eventually, she's going to get her way anyway. "I kind of don't care about styling," he points out, but sighs and nods, seeing as he figures he's along for the ride.

Wherever she plans on taking him.

Inside Isaac's room with the door closed and locked behind them, April busied herself rifling through Isaac's clothes for something appropriate while he showered. It only occurred to her after she'd bodily shoved him into the bathroom and yanked the door shut that he might not want to be naked with this new body, but the way she figured, it was the kind of up-close education most boys never got.

Not that she was thinking about Isaac doing that, she just meant-

Clothes. Right.

Isaac ends up taking a two minute shower, scrubbing rapidly and not really caring about shaving legs or any kind of in-depth cleaning. He'd done this for three weeks last time and figured out how much girls actually do to keep looking so good, but Isaac's skills can manage looking presentable, but not much further.

He wraps a towel around himself, poking his wet head past the door. "Do you have something out there I can wear?"

"Here," April replied as she shoved a neatly-folded stack of clothing Isaac's way, her eyes politely averted. "It was smart to keep that stuff," she added of the clothes, and then immediately realized this was possibly the worst moment to be making conversation.

"Just, um. Lightly towel dry your hair," she added as she edged awkwardly away.

Isaac leans forward and grabs the clothes, pressing them against the towel and closing the door to the bathroom before he starts the awkward process of dressing. He's trying his best to do this with his eyes closed because there is something so, so weird about ogling your own girl parts. He also knows that skirting the edge of control means the wolf might make an appearance and he really doesn't want to end up losing more clothes.

He doesn't put much thought into dressing. Underwear, bra, jeans, t-shirt and soon the towel is working over the curls of his hair, which are still as wild as ever when wet -- just longer, now. He opens the creaking bathroom door again, tentatively, and steps out. "I got bit by a werewolf in a graveyard, a lizard controlled by my childhood friend killed my father," Isaac narrates in disbelief, shaking his head, "and I still find it super weird that the biggest issue in my life right now is my brain being unable to cope with being a werewolf and a teenage girl at the same time."

It's like he can have claws or breasts, but not both.

"What's weird about it is that it's happened before and you're still that freaked out by it," April replied with a knowing arch of her eyebrows, and then motioned for Isaac to join her in sitting on the bed. She had made a decision while he was dressing: She was going to handle this entire interaction by imagining Isaac was just one of her girl friends instead of her cute guy friend who now happened to have lady parts. So what if her life now had way more anthropomorphic turtles than it did giggling with girls? She could be girly if she wanted to.

Situating herself cross-legged on the mattress, she fetched a wide-toothed comb from her bag and began to gently work on the tangled mess of Isaac's hair. "Lucky for you that I also have curly hair," she said. "A straight-haired girl would be lost with this nest."

Isaac feels pretty freaked out and he's pretty happy to stay that way. Getting used to it means chancing fate and the slip of the idea that he could stay like this is something he is not taunting the fates with. "I kind of let it go wild last time," Isaac admits. "It's not like anyone really cared what my hair looked like," he says. "This time, though, there's people from home so I guess I shouldn't dive too deep into the hobo chic or Derek and Scott might start fussing."

"Are Derek and Scott werewolves, too?" April asked, gently sectioning off a bit of untangled hair so that she could work on the next chunk. "I'm just thinking that anybody who changes into a wolf maybe shouldn't be judging the state of other people's hair, is all."

Isaac doesn't nod, but it takes a second for him to remember that if he does, April's going to wind up yanking and tugging on a lot of hair that he doesn't want to hurt. "Yeah," Isaac confirms. "Derek's the one who turned me, but Scott's my alpha now." Which is complicated and hard to think about, so he typically just sort of denies it all. "And they both kind of look flawlessly impeccable," he adds. "Even as wolves. It's like a weird freakish talent that I so didn't get."

The laugh was out of April's mouth before she'd realized it, and there was a short, tense moment while she deliberated how to continue.

"Give me a break," she finally said, focusing on the smooth pull of the comb through Isaac's now-untangled hair. "You look like you should be modeling for Abercrombie and Fitch."

"Not when I wolf out," Isaac promises, having looked in the mirror once and been taken aback by how absolutely wrong he looked when he was a wolf. It's like none of the humanity had translated through. "I mean, I know I'm pretty good looking. Being a werewolf kind of helps with the whole confidence thing," he says with a shrug. "Also, I think you might have ripped out half my hair," he complains, even though he's sure she hasn't.

It's just raw as anything and he reaches up to touch some of the curls, wincing when he forgets that it's a whole lot different than what he remembers.

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