The Year I Became Isabella Anders (Alternative Edition) (Sunnyvale Alternative Series Book 1)

by Jessica Sorensen

  She coils a strand of her hair around her finger. “Annoy you, huh?” She seems wistful about something. “Because, from what I read through the text, he seems like he’s flirting with you.”

  I laugh so hard I almost pee myself.

  “Kai isn’t flirting with me. Trust me; he’s made it his life mission to annoy the crap out of me.” I start to send Kai the pic Indigo suggested then stop myself.

  I don’t fully understand why. Part of me whispers that my hesitancy is that I don’t trust him. The other part of me whispers that I’m just not ready to take these moments overseas, this fantasy world I’ve been living in where I feel like I can be anyone and do anything, and share it with my old life.

  Me: Don’t have any cool pics yet. Sorry.

  I leave it at that and put my phone away.

  He doesn’t reply. I don’t know why I’m surprised or a tiny bit disappointed, but I am. The sucky part is I don’t know what I’m more disappointed about: Kai’s silence, or the fact I was too afraid to send him a damn photo.

  I shake the feeling off, though, and focus on tonight, focus on my next life experience.

  As I walk out the door, my phone buzzes. I fish it out of my bag, and then my stomach ravels in knots.

  Unknown: London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. And Isabella’s world is going to crash down, too.

  Panic sets in. My heart slams in my chest. Someone knows about my mom. Someone who knows I’m in London. The only people I can think of who would know that is my grandma Stephy, Indigo, my dad, Lynn, and maybe Hannah.

  When Indigo notices my worried expression, she asks, “What’s wrong? Why do you look like you’re about to be sick?”

  Instead of answering, I show her the texts I’ve received from the unknown caller. She reads over the messages then shakes her head.

  “I bet it’s Hannah,” she says. “It sounds just like something she’d do to you. That stupid bitch. God, I’ve never been able to stand her.”

  “Me neither.” I clutch the phone in my hand. “But how did she even find out? And how would she get an unknown number? I have her programmed in my phone under her name …”

  “I don’t know.” Indigo shrugs, not seeming too bothered. “Maybe your dad said something about it to her. Or Lynn. My bet is Lynn. That stupid bitch has always had it out for you.” She shakes her head, her jaw set tight. “And the whole unknown number thing is probably Hannah’s way of messing around with your head and trying to make you worry. I bet she just borrowed her friend’s or something so you wouldn’t know it was her.”

  “Maybe.” I know she’s probably right. If Hannah found out about my mom, she’d definitely do something like this to me.

  If it is her, I really wish I knew her end game: whether she’s just messing with my head or if there’s more to come.

  Chapter 7

  Four hours later, Indigo and I get in line to ride the London Eye, a ginormous Ferris wheel with oval passenger pods that are covered in windows and are supposed to give you a great view of the city.

  Indigo and I met Peter just before we got in line, and Peter just happened to bring along his friend, Nyle. Although, I don’t think it was by accident. This is a setup. I get that. What I don’t get is what I’m supposed to do with this cute British guy who keeps looking at me like I’m adorable when I can barely focus on anything else other than the text message. I’ve tried to tell myself to forget about it, to not let Hannah get to me, but I’ve become obsessed with the idea that maybe she’s known I’m only her half-sister for years now, and perhaps that’s why she’s always despised me.

  “You want me to get us a drink or something before we get on?” Nyle asks, tearing me from my stressed out thoughts.

  I try to smile like Indigo does all the time whenever she’s flirting. “Sure. That sounds great.”

  He smiles before stepping out of the line to head over to the concession stand.

  Indigo gives me a knowing look, and I have no idea how to react. Just what exactly does she think is going to happen on this fun-filled Ferris wheel ride of ours?

  I shake my head at her then take in the sights around me; the bright lights, the soft music from the street performers, and the energized buzz in the air.

  “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” Nyle asks when he returns to the line.

  I tear my attention off the starry sky and catch him checking me out.

  He smiles sheepishly at me as he hands me a bottle of Coke.

  “Yeah, it’s really pretty here.” I twist the cap off the bottle and glug down a few swallows, giving myself time to figure out what to say to him.

  It’s not that I’m shy, but I don’t feel as comfortable around him as I do with people I know.

  We spend the next ten minutes in awkward silence before we make it to the front of the line and get on the Ferris wheel.

  While Indigo chats with Peter about New York, Nyle gets a nervous energy boost and starts babbling to me about himself. I try to listen—I really do—but his opening liner is that he’s a math major, and I end up zoning in and out of the conversation, wondering what the hell I’m going to do when I get home.

  If Hannah is the one sending me the texts, then she’s probably going to make my life a living hell. Well, more than she already does.

  I do feel like kind of an asshole for ignoring Nyle. I mean, he’s trying to get to know me, telling me about his classes, his love for numbers, canoeing, and water polo, and I can barely pay attention. I nod my head every so often and offer him a few smiles, hoping I’m not coming off as a total bitch. He has to be getting exhausted of me and my silence. At least, that’s what I figure when he suddenly grows quiet. When I look at him, though, he’s leaning in for a kiss.

  “You’re really beautiful, you know that?” he whispers, his gaze flickering back and forth between my eyes and my lips. “And a really good listener.”

  So I’ve been told, I think as his lips inch toward mine.

  I hesitate, deciding. Do I just kiss him, even though I have no interest in him?

  The idea seems both appealing and appalling. I mean, on one hand, he’s super cute, if you like that preppy, slacks-and-sweater sort of look. On the other hand, I’ve been bored to death the entire last couple of hours.

  “Hey, Isa, come chat with me for a sec, would you?” Indigo interrupts the moment, grabbing me by the arm and towing me to the opposite side of the pod, away from listening ears. “What are you doing?” she whispers, glancing back at Peter and Nyle.

  “Um, hanging out,” I reply, super confused by the astounded look on her face.

  “No, I mean with Nyle,” she hisses, unzipping her purse. “It looked like you were about to faint when he leaned in to kiss you.”

  I scrunch up my nose. “You were watching that?”

  “Don’t pretend like I’m some pervert. I was just keeping an eye on you, like I promised you I would.” She pulls out a tube of lipstick and applies a coat to her lips. “Now, do you want to tell me why you looked sickened over the fact that a hot guy wants to kiss you?”

  “I’m not sickened by the fact.” I flick a glance in Nyle’s direction, and he smiles at me. “I don’t know if I should kiss him when we have nothing in common.”

  She drops her lipstick back into her purse. “Oh, Isa.” She ruffles my hair, something she does whenever she thinks I’m being naive. “You have so much to learn.”

  “About what, exactly?” I comb my fingers through my hair, smoothing the strands back into place. “Kissing complete strangers?”

  “About kissing in general.” She zips up her purse and rubs her lips together. “Look, if you really don’t want to kiss Nyle, then don’t. But, if you want to kiss him but you’re not because you think kissing should be this fairy tale experience of love at first sight, then I recommend you get over it and give kissing a try.”

  “But we have nothing in common, and honestly, I’m kind of bored.”

  “Okay, well, maybe k
issing him will make things less boring.”

  “And what if it doesn’t?”

  She stares out the glass, the light from the city reflecting in her eyes. “If you kiss him and it sucks, then pretend to sneeze and I’ll come rescue you.”

  “You want me to sneeze in his face?” I struggle not to laugh at the mental image.

  “It’s the best way to get him to stop. But I think you should give the kissing thing a try.” She swings around a couple making out near the center of the pod and heads back across toward the guys. “And, hey, maybe this will help you get over the Kyler thing.”

  As I make my way back to Nyle, I can’t help thinking that maybe Indigo’s right. Perhaps I should get over Kyler. After all, he’s probably back home, in a lip lock with Hannah.

  I wince as I realize how big of a possibility that is.

  Then another thought occurs to me. What if he knows she’s sending me the texts?

  I hastily shake my head. No, Kyler would never be a part of something like that.

  Still, the idea of them together sends a rush of anger and adrenaline through my veins. Before I even know what I’m doing, I march straight up to Nyle and seal my lips with his.

  He tastes like beer, is the first thought that crosses my mind, which only makes me giggle.

  Bravo, Isa, on being the weirdest kisser in the world.

  Nyle seems to find me amusing, though, and chuckles along with me before deepening the kiss.

  While there’s no fireworks or explosions, I do discover that kissing is fun and takes my mind off my problems. I might have to try it again sometime.

  Or a lot.

  We kiss a lot that night, in the pod, on the street in front of Big Ben, and at a bakery shop we stop at to get cupcakes.

  At the end of the night, Nyle and I say good-bye. We don’t exchange numbers or emails. We just kiss and tell each other we had fun. There are no expectations to try to talk to each other again, and I like that.

  “Was I right? Or was I right?” Indigo asks.

  It’s well after midnight, but I feel wide awake as we skip through the glitzy hotel lobby and toward the elevators.

  “You were right.” I push the up button and wait for the doors to open.

  Indigo is grinning like a dork as we jump into the elevator, but her mood swiftly shifts.

  “You are having fun, though, right? I just want to make sure that you are. I know after what you found out in Paris …” She sighs, slipping off her purple platform shoes. “I just want to make sure you’re having fun, despite what you found out.”

  “I promise I am.” I link arms with her. “You’ve done good, cuz.”

  “Why thank you, cuz.” She laughs, slumping back against the wall. “So what did you think of your first kiss?”

  “It actually wasn’t that bad. And Nyle seems like a great kisser.”

  “Did it help you forget about Kyler?”

  “It actually did for a while,” I answer truthfully.

  “Good. I’m glad.” She presses our floor button with her toe, too lazy to lean forward and do it with her fingers. “You should have seen the look on Nyle’s face when you kissed him. He was so into it.”

  I replay the kiss in my head. The girl in the memory looks like me, yet she’s almost unrecognizable, doing things I never thought I’d do.

  I look at my reflection in the mirror on the wall. My eyes are big, my cheeks flushed, and my lips are swollen. I look wired, hyped up on life and experiences. I wonder if my family, Kyler, or even Kai would recognize me right now. I think about texting Kai a photo of me and finding out, yet I am too worried he’ll know exactly who I am, still see me as the nerdy girl-next-door. And I’m too worried he won’t, that through this exterior transformation, I’ve somehow lost my entire identity.

  But that can’t be true. I still feel the same. For the most part, anyway. Okay, maybe that’s a lie. Deep down, I don’t feel like the old Isabella at all. Different, confused, lost—that’s how I feel all the time these days. Confused about my life. Over my existence.

  I just hope when I get home I’ll be able to get some answers so I can maybe feel whole again.

  Chapter 8

  Over the next couple of weeks or so, I try to have as much fun as I can. It’s not too difficult, mostly thanks to Indigo and her crazy endeavors.

  Like the first time we go clubbing in Scotland. We spend half the night chatting with complete strangers before we head into a club. Indigo orders us drinks then fixes her attention coaxing me into dancing with her.

  “You want me to what?” I gape at her like she’s a raving lunatic.

  She laughs as she picks up a shot glass. “I said, let’s dance. We look too hot not to dance.”

  While I agree that we both look hot in our short dresses with our hair all done up, I don’t think dancing is necessary, especially when I can’t dance.

  “Don’t look at me like that. You’ll be fine.” She angles back her head, throws down the shot, and then sets the glass down on the counter.

  “Yeah, clearly you’ve never seen me dance; otherwise, you wouldn’t be suggesting that.” I peer around at the people laughing, drinking, and grinding all up on each other.

  “That’s a lame excuse,” she says. “Give me a better one, and I’ll let you off the hook.”

  The dim lighting makes it hard to see anyone’s face, and with the atmosphere buzzing and the music throbbing, there isn’t a good excuse I can see anywhere.

  I look back at her, sulking. “Do I have to?”

  “You don’t have to do anything,” she says, shimmying her hips as she backs toward the dance floor. “But you’re missing out on one of life’s great experiences.” She raises her hands in the air as she reaches the edge of the dance floor, rocking out to a bass-driven song. “Dance like no one’s watching!” she shouts over the music then starts head banging like a freakin’ punk rock chick.

  I wait for someone to laugh at her then quickly realize no one gives a shit about what anyone else is doing. Everyone’s too focused on their own thing, like I should be.

  With a deep breath, I gag down my shot and amble toward the dance floor and my crazy cousin.

  It takes me a few minutes to warm up and let loose, but I get there. There’s something invigorating about dancing like there’s no tomorrow. With every laugh, sway of my hips, flail of my arms, I feel more like a different person. Riskier. More daring. Someone who lives life, instead of just existing in it.

  So I keep dancing.

  I dance until my feet hurt.

  Until they blister.

  Until I’m so damn tired I can’t think straight.

  By the time Indigo and I make it back to the hotel, I’m dripping with sweat, tired as hell, but I have a huge-ass smile on my face, totally high on life. Until my stupid phone goes off and ruins the moment.

  I don’t bother checking the message, already having a pretty good idea of what it will say. That my life is going to break apart. That trouble awaits me at home. Shit like that. I’ve been getting more texts from the unknown caller over the last couple of days, and it’s really starting to piss me off.

  “I’m too tired. Hold me up,” Indigo whines as we lazily wander down the hallway toward our room.

  “No way. You hold me up,” I say as she rests her head on my shoulder and leans all her weight against me. “You’re the one who made me dance.”

  “Well, you’re the one who refused to stop.”

  Right as we’re about to trip over ourselves, my phone vibrates from inside my pocket again. Dammit! That’s the third time tonight.

  Unable to stand not knowing any longer, I fumble my phone out of my pocket.

  I sigh in relief when I see the message is from Kai, but then tense when I notice I have a few unopened texts from the unknown caller, too.

  Ignoring those, I open Kai’s message.

  Kai: I’m still waiting on that photo. And don’t say u don’t have any good ones again because I’m not buying i
t. You’ve been gone for over two months, and there’s no way u haven’t taken any good photos yet.

  Me: What’s up with the pressure? It’s starting to stress me out.

  Kai: You’re stressed out??? Think about how stressed I’ve been. I mean, I haven’t heard anything from u except for a few messages here and there, and for all I know, this might not even be u. Maybe some British dude stole your phone and is texting me, pretending to be u.

  Me: Wow, that’s quite the story u came up with.

  Kai. Thanks. I’m pretty proud of it myself.

  Me: Well, sorry to burst your awesome story bubble, but I’m not a British dude. I’m just plain old Isa.

  Kai: Prove it. Send me the most awesome pic you’ve taken so far. That’s the only way I’ll believe u.

  “I think he just wants to have a picture of you,” Indigo mutters as she reads the messages from over my shoulder.

  “Doubtful.”

  Me: Can’t right now. Sorry.

  Kai: I’m seriously disappointed. I was holding on to the hope that you’d finally send me one so I could be entertained at this lame-ass party.

  Me: First of all, why on earth would a photo of me entertain u? And second, if you’re at a party, why r u bored? Isn’t that why people go to parties? So they can be unbored?

  Kai: Unbored? Hmmm … I’m not sure what that means.

  Me: Hey, don’t mock my awesome made up words. I work hard on them.

  Kai: I actually remember that about u. U always tried to convince me that things could be unglittery and unzombie-like. I thought it was funny.

  Me: That’s because I’m a funny girl. Duh. I thought u knew that already.

  Kai: I did … Still do. Now, please, send me something fun to look at so I can be unbored.

  Me: Only if u say pretty please.

  Indigo giggles. “Holy shit, Isa, you’re totally flirting with him.”

  My cheeks flush. “I am not.”

  “You so are.”

  “So am not … I’m just a little tipsy.”

  “So? You were a little tipsy toward the end of that night we hung out with Nyle and Peter, and I didn’t see you flirting with them.” She gives me an accusing look.