“I know you do,” he says simply, popping the tab of the can open.
“How can you possibly know that about me?” I ask, opening my soda. “No one, except maybe my grandma, knows that about me.”
He thrums his finger against his bottom lip. “Hmmm … Let me think. How on earth did I find out all that stuff about you …?” An impish grin plays at his lips. “There has to be some sort of online place where I read all about your interests. Oh, yeah, I remember now. There was this page that had all these thoughts of yours on it. There were also some pretty cool pictures of your trip that I didn’t see on your phone.”
I feel like I’ve entered The Twilight Zone.
“You were on my blog!” Shit. Did he read my last entry? If so, then he knows about my mom.
He shrugs like it’s no biggie. “It’s kind of interesting, and you’re kind of funny.”
“Gee, thanks,” I say sarcastically. “And you’re kind of nice.”
“Why, thank you,” he replies with over-exaggerated happiness.
I resist an eye roll then try to get a vibe from him; see if maybe he knows about my mom. Is there pity in his eyes? No, not really. If anything, he appears amused.
“When’s the last time you were on it?” I ask. “My blog, I mean.”
“I don’t know, like, four or five days ago.”
I exhale in relief. I made the post yesterday.
He winds around the kitchen island and heads for the doorway that leads to the living room. “Come on. I need to grab some stuff before I go to the party.”
“I never said I was going.”
It’s not like I don’t want to go to a party. I just worry that people from my school will be there, which means I’ll end up spending the entire night avoiding their stares, probably hiding out in the bathroom.
He spins around, grinning. “Oh, come on. You know you want to go.” His grin expands. “It’ll be super fun!”
I flip him the middle finger, and he laughs.
“Besides, if you go, I can introduce you to some people from our school. Getting to know people is the first step to friendship.” He grins.
“You would really do that for me?” I’m oddly touched.
He waves me off like it’s no big deal. “I have excellent people skills. Stick with me and you will, too.” Then he grabs my arm and pulls me with him, leaving me no choice but to go.
Chapter 14
“I have to change before we leave,” I announce to Kai after he walks out of his bedroom, wearing different clothes.
He’s now sporting a long-sleeved grey Henley, black jeans, and boots. He also has on a grey knit cap and a collection of leather bands on his wrist, including the one I gave him. I won’t ever admit it to him aloud, but he looks dangerously sexy.
He evaluates me from head to toe while shoving up the sleeves of his shirt. “Why? You look fine.” He tugs on the bottom of my still-damp tank top. “And I think a lot of people will probably appreciate the wet T-shirt look.”
I fold my arms over my chest, mentally cursing myself when my cheeks go all melted chocolate warm.
Please don’t notice I’m blushing. Please don’t notice I’m blushing.
His lips spread into a grin. “The blush would be an added bonus, too. Between the T-shirt and that, you might be able to get free drinks all night.”
I square my shoulders, scrounging up the little dignity I have left. “Bradon charges people for drinks at his parties? Really?”
“Not all the time, just sometimes.” Kai nonchalantly shrugs. “He’s an entrepreneur.”
I run my hands over the front of my shirt. “As much as I’d love free drinks for the night, I think I’d rather wear some clean, more weather-appropriate clothes, and just pay if I drink.”
“If you drink?” Kai questions with amusement. “You’re a virgin drinker, aren’t you?”
“Oh, please. You think I spent three months overseas and didn’t touch a drink?” I scoff with a roll of my eyes. “I’ve drank a ton.”
His lips twitch as he wrestles back a laugh. “Okay, I believe you. Just a warning, I’d stay away from any baked goods if I were you.”
“Warning noted.”
I can’t believe I’m doing this—going to a party where I might run into people I know and that Kai is going to introduce me to. This will be so much different, and I’ll be way more out of my element than when I was dancing in clubs and kissing guys I barely knew.
Before Kai and I leave, I go over to my house to change my clothes.
“You can just wait on the sofa, if you want,” I tell him when Kai tags along with me as I head upstairs to my room.
“Nah, I’ll just wait outside your bedroom door for you.”
“You’re such a weirdo.”
“That’s why we get along so well,” he replies, grinning.
Smiling, I dash up the stairs and to my room. After I get the door shut, I head for the closet to pick out an outfit. As I pass by my bed, though, something catches my attention and makes me grind to a halt.
A piece of paper.
I pick it up off my bed, and my heart slams against my chest.
“Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!”
Kai bursts in, wide-eyed and panicked. “What happened?”
“I don’t …” My hands and legs are shaking about as badly as my voice. I sink to the mattress, struggling to catch my breath. “It’s nothing. I just found my birth certificate; that’s all.” When a pucker forms at his brow, I add, “I’ve been trying to find it for a week or so.”
“Okay. I get where all the crazy was coming from now.” A beat or two goes by as he glances from me to the paper in my hand then shifts his weight and cracks his knuckles.
“You read my post, didn’t you?” I can read the truth all over his face, and by how twitchy he’s acting. “Why didn’t you say anything when we were in your kitchen?” I ask, pushing to my feet. “You said you hadn’t read it in, like, four or five days.”
“That was a guesstimate.” He looks guilty. “And I was just saying what I felt like you wanted me to say. It didn’t seem like you wanted me to know.”
“I didn’t. Not yet, anyway.” Looking down at my birth certificate, my excitement bubble pops.
Where the mother’s name is supposed to be is blank. But my father’s is there in dark ink, a reminder that, yes, he may hate me, but I am his flesh and blood.
“So, does it say it?” Kai asks tentatively, leaning over to get a closer look at the certificate.
I lift my gaze to him. “Say what?”
“Who your mother is. That’s why you were so excited to find it, right? Because you want to know who she is.”
I really, really wish I would’ve gone with my gut instinct and deleted that post.
“Kai, you can’t tell anyone about this, okay? My dad, he doesn’t know I’m looking for her, and he got really upset when my grandma asked him about my mom.”
“Does Lynn or Hannah know you’re looking for her?” His voice conveys worry.
“I don’t know.” I glance down at the certificate again, and my good mood deflates even more as another thought occurs to me. This was the piece of paper in the photo the unknown caller sent to me. “Someone has to know, though.” I bite on my lip as I mull it over. “The only person home right now is Hannah. I’m pretty sure she’s the one who did it.”
“You think Hannah put this on your bed?” Kai looks unconvinced. “I hate to say this, because I know it might hurt you, but why would Hannah try to help you?”
“Nothing you can say about Hannah will hurt me. I’ve pretty much developed an immunity to her bitchiness.”
Kai presses his lips together as he stares at me with insinuation in his eyes.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask. “I’m being serious. Hannah doesn’t bother me anymore.”
“Okay … It’s just that I’ve been wondering if maybe your new hot girl look thingy has something to do with what I said to you be
fore you left.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets, tense as a tightly wound rope. “That this was your way of trying to get her to stop being mean to you all the time.”
“That’s not what that was about.” My tone comes out more clipped than I want it to. I clear my throat. “My change was about me. I don’t—didn’t—even know who I was. And I wanted to figure that out.”
“You’re still kind of confused, it seems like,” he accuses, carrying my gaze.
“Maybe a little.” Maybe a lot.
With each passing day, I feel more lost as the possibility of finding my mom grows dimmer.
What if this is it for me? This lonely room with bare walls and a family who loathes me. The idea is so depressing, so dream squashing. No, I won’t go there.
“You know it’s okay, right?” Kai says, scuffing the tip of his boot against the carpet as he stares down at the floor. “To be confused over who you are.”
“Are you confused about who you are?” I don’t really expect an answer, since he usually changes the subject whenever someone mentions his bad-boy makeover.
His gaze elevates to mine, and that let-me-hypnotize-you-with-my-eyes look is smoldering fiercely. “I was. It’s actually getting clearer now, though,” he says then immediately changes the subject. “Quick question. Why would Hannah put your certificate on your bed? Isn’t that kind of, in a way, helping you find your mom? Because that doesn’t seem like something Hannah would do.”
“It’s not really helping me since it doesn’t have my mom’s name listed. I mean, I already know her first name is Bella because my dad let it slip out to my grandma. And he was really mad when he did that.” I blow out a stressed breath. “So either this is Hannah’s way of rubbing in my face that I’m motherless, or maybe she thinks if she helps me find my mom, it’ll get rid of me.”
“Now that sounds like Hannah.”
I chew on my bottom lip, debating if I should tell him about the text messages, too.
“I’ve been getting some weird texts … ever since I found out about my mom. They’re from an unknown caller, but I’m pretty sure it’s Hannah.” I take out my phone and open up a message. “I got this message earlier today.” I show Kai the photo the unknown caller sent me and the message. “I don’t think anyone else besides Hannah could’ve gotten into the house, found my birth certificate, and put it on my bed.”
With his brows dipped, Kai asks, “What about Lynn?”
“She’s gone on a vacation with my dad.”
He considers something with a torn look on his face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, putting my phone away.
“It’s nothing … I’m just trying to figure out what the hell Hannah is up to.”
“She’s probably just trying to hurt me. She’s always doing stuff like this.”
He doesn’t disagree and looks sort of guilty about something.
“I’m sorry, Isa. I really am.” He blows an exhale then his gaze falls to my hand. He takes the certificate from me. “Mind if I hang on to this for a couple of days? I may know a guy who can help you with your search. I’m not sure what kind of information he needs, but I can give it a try.”
“You know, this is the third time you’ve said something very mafia-ish to me,” I point out. “You want to tell me something about you and these new friends of yours?”
“No way. That would take away all of my mystery.” His lips quirk as he looks at me, and I can’t help smiling despite all the crazy stuff going on in my life right now. “Then I’d just be boring Kai again.”
“I kind of liked boring Kai.” I playfully nudge his foot with mine. “Well, sometimes, anyway.”
“You never really knew him, Isa. No one really did.”
“I did a little, though.”
“Maybe a little,” he agrees, tucking the certificate into the back pocket of his jeans.
Well, I guess that’s that.
It makes me nervous to think about what he’s going to do with that piece of paper. Who’s this guy he’s going to talk to? And how can he find my mom without knowing more than her first name?
“Hurry and get changed. Let’s hit up this party so we can relax.” He backs toward the door, fishing his phone from his pocket. “And while you’re doing that, I’m going to go have a little chat with Hannah and see if I can get to the bottom of this.”
Confusion clouds my mind. “You’d do that for me?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, why not?” A smile touches his lips. “I’m always up for pissing Hannah off.”
Chapter 15
Kai’s talk with Hannah doesn’t go down the way he hoped. Apparently, all she wanted to do was flirt with him and talk about how hot she looked.
“God, she’s so annoying,” he gripes as we get into his car.
I giggle. “You just figured that out?”
He shakes his head. “No. I was just painfully reminded of it.” He backs down the driveway toward the road. “Sorry, I couldn’t get her to talk.”
“That’s okay.” It’s the truth, too. While I’d love for Hannah to confess she did it, I still ended up with my birth certificate.
“I did go through her phone to see if maybe she’s just blocked her number and that’s why it’s coming up as unknown,” Kai adds. “But either she’s deleted all the texts and photos or she’s sending them from another phone.”
I give him a suspicious look. “How’d you get on her phone? She has a password.”
He shrugs. “I have my ways.” When I continue to stare at him, he sighs. “I’m kind of good at cracking people’s passwords.”
I wait for him to embellish. Instead, he turns up the radio and focuses on driving, leaving me to come up with my own assumptions.
The house where the party is at is way the hell out near the foothills, about a thirty-minute or so drive from the suburbs where Kai and I live.
For the first half of the drive, Kai and I argue about what song we should listen to. He wants to turn on his party song, which is pretty much just bass and dirty lyrics. When he turns the song on, my ears groan in protest, and I reach forward and snatch up his iPod.
“Hey.” Kai blasts me with a zombie rage, I’m-going-to-eat-your-brains-out look. “I know you’re new to riding with me, so I’m going to tell you the rules as nicely as I can.” He extends his hand over the console to steal the iPod away from me, but misses. “No one, under any circumstances, ever gets to touch my stereo.”
Smirking, I line my back against the door so I’m out of his reach, quickly scrolling through his songs.
“Isa,” he warns, his gaze dancing back and forth between the road and me as he drives down the busy street. “I’m being serious. I have issues with music.”
“Clearly.” I snicker as I note some of the songs he has on the device. “Dude, your music taste sucks. What happened to that obsession with 80s punk music? There aren’t any songs that are even close to punk.”
“I go through music phases.” His fingers tighten around the steering wheel as his expression darkens. “And I’m super touchy about people insulting my current music tastes.” He suddenly relaxes, shaking and rolling out his shoulders. “You know what? I’m going to let that one slide just as long as you put the iPod down.”
I quickly tap the folder labeled “For Your Eyes Only,” click the first song, and set the iPod down. A song by Violent Soho flows through the speakers, and I smile.
“Okay, this one’s not too bad.”
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. You turned on one of my private songs,” he says then grins and turns up the volume, singing along.
Private songs? God, I don’t even want to know what he does when he listens to those.
I laugh at my own thoughts and end up doing an awesome snort.
“What’s so funny?” Kai asks, giving me a curious, sidelong glance.
I swiftly shake my head. “It’s nothing.”
A grin creeps up his face. “You were thinking something dirty, weren’t you?”
; “No, I was just thinking about … something.”
“About something dirty with my private playlist.”
I stick out my tongue at him, and he just laughs. Then I relax back in my seat and cross my legs, moving carefully since I’m wearing a skirt and don’t want to flash him.
I matched the skirt with a long-sleeved black shirt, clunky black boots, and a studded leather jacket I bought in one of the shops on Oxford Street in London. I hope I look good enough for a party, but since I’ve never been to one, I’m unsure.
I run my fingers through my wavy hair, trying to add volume, being careful not to snag any of the braids.
“You look fine,” Kai says, misreading my primping.
My hands fall to my lap. “I was just trying to make my hair bounce more.”
He taps on the brakes to slow for a stoplight then twists in the seat, looking at me with his brow cocked. “Bounce? I didn’t know hair bounced.”
“Tell that to my cousin Indigo. She seems to think hair needs to bounce all the time.”
“I’ll never understand girls.”
“And I’ll never understand guys. It’s like, one minute, you’re sweet, and then the next, you’re all like”—I drop my voice to a low baritone—“ ‘Whatever, I don’t care about anything anymore.’ ”
“I always care about stuff,” he says, driving forward as the light turns green. “Sometimes, I just can’t show it.”
“That’s really silly.”
“About as silly as pretending we were wizards.”
“Hey, I was a witch.” I smile as I remember how, during our walks home, we’d sometimes stop at the park and pretend we were awesome enough to possess the power of magic. “Not a wizard.”
“Whatever. It was still silly. I mean, we were almost thirteen years old, for God’s sake. We were too old to be playing make-believe.” Though his eyes are glued to the road, I can sense the tension flowing off him.
“Well, I didn’t. And I still don’t think it’s silly.” I focus on the shops, the local bank, and the small grocery store lining the street, trying to ignore the pain over how he thinks our time together was silly—that I’m silly.
The Year I Became Isabella Anders (Alternative Edition) (Sunnyvale Alternative Series Book 1) Page 14