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

by Jessica Sorensen

  The hug is not as awkward as I thought it would be, but when I step back, Kai’s staring at me with his mouth hanging open.

  “You’re a strange girl sometimes.” He grabs another cookie from the package with a quizzical look on his face. “But in the best way possible.”

  “So I’ve been told,” I say with a small smile. “You’re okay, though, right?”

  He nods, swallowing hard. “I’m okay.”

  I glance at the welt on his cheek. “Promise?”

  His fingers drift to his cheek, and he winces. “I promise.” Then he turns his back on me and jogs up the stairs without saying anything else.

  I’m not positive I believe he’s okay, but I’m not sure what else to do, other than keeping an eye on him.

  I head back to the kitchen, feeling sullen.

  Kyler has everything cleaned up by the time I walk in, and he has his jacket and shoes on, ready to go.

  “Everything okay?” he asks as he collects the car keys from the counter.

  I nod. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

  That’s the second time I’ve lied in the last ten minutes. Who I’m lying to, I’m not quite sure.

  Chapter 19

  By the time we arrive at my Grandma Stephy’s house, she’s halfway done baking the cookies. I give her a good, stern lecture for not waiting for us, and she tells me that she doesn’t need my sucky baking skills tainting her cookies and to go sit my ass down in the living room while she works her Baker Fairy Magic in the kitchen.

  “She’s funny,” Kyler says after we settle on the living room sofa.

  “Yeah, she’s pretty funny, I guess.” I shift on the sofa, feeling nervous as hell with how close he’s sitting next to me.

  “You smile around her a lot,” he remarks as he slides his arm across the back of the sofa.

  “Do I not smile a lot when I’m not around her?” You notice that I don’t?

  “I’ve seen you smile a couple of times,” he says. “But not a lot.”

  “Maybe it’s because you haven’t been around me a lot,” I reply with a shrug. “Generally, I try to be a happy person, even when things are super sucky. And I’m seriously easy to please. I mean, give me a cookie and a comic book, and I’m like a freaking unicorn sniffing rainbows.”

  “A unicorn sniffing a rainbow?” He cocks a brow.

  I shrug, picking at my nails. “What? Unicorns are totally crazy happy when they sniff rainbows.”

  He chuckles. “Funny. I didn’t know unicorns were real or that they sniffed rainbows.”

  “Oh, they’re totally real.” I grin. “Now, I’m not positive the rainbow part is true, but I like to think it is because I’m just that awesome.”

  “That you are.” He gently tugs on a strand of my hair for God knows what reason. “You remember that time you wore a cape to school?”

  I pull a face. “Yeah, I remember. Don’t judge me, though. I was, like, ten and going through this phase where I wanted to be a witch.”

  “No, I wasn’t judging you at all,” he quickly says. “I always thought it was cool you were so comfortable with being yourself.” I glance down at my stylish outfit, and he hurriedly adds, “I like this look, too. I promise. And you’re still you and everything. And really cool and comfortable with yourself.” He’s rambling and sounds nervous, and I can barely keep up with what he’s saying. He finally takes a breath and shakes his head at himself. “I don’t know what my problem is. You’ve totally thrown me off my game.”

  He’s trying to use his game on me?

  He moves his arm from the back of the sofa and rakes his fingers through his hair. “You just make me nervous.”

  I almost bust up laughing. I’m making Kyler nervous?

  “Are you being serious?”

  He nods, lowering his hand to his lap. “I’m usually better at reading people, but with you … I have no idea what you’re thinking.” He waits, like he expects me to tell him.

  I shake my head. “There is no way I’m telling you what goes on in here.” I tap my temple. “If I did, you might run out the door.”

  “I doubt that.” He sits up straight and twists to face me. “How about we try it and see? You tell me one thing you’re thinking, and we’ll see if it scares me enough that I run.”

  “That seems like a game I’ll lose no matter what because, either you leave, or you stay here and think I’m crazy.”

  “Okay, well, how about this? You just tell me one thing, and I won’t think you’re crazy and I’ll stay.”

  “How can you possibly predict that?” I ask, amused. “Are you secretly a psychic?”

  “I have an aunt who is,” he says in all seriousness.

  “Really? That’s crazy cool. Does she, like, tell you your fortunes and everything? Do you know when you’re going to die?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope. I’m not telling you anything more until you tell me something about you.”

  I give an overdramatic sigh. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I press my lips together, thinking, What could I possibly tell him about me that won’t make him think I’m crazy? All my interests are weird, and I don’t think he’d get my obsession with zombies. Maybe I could tell him some of the things I did this summer, like dancing at the club or kissing Nyle …

  Oh, my God, why would I tell him that?

  “I skinny-dipped in a pool this summer.” I slap my hand over my mouth.

  Holy shit. Out of all the things, that’s what I decided to go with?

  “You did what?” From the kitchen, Grandma Stephy stares at me in shock.

  “We weren’t totally naked,” I tell her, mentally cursing myself. I’d been doing so well, lightly flirting, saying fun things, and then my weirdo gene decided to make a grand appearance.

  She points the spoon she’s holding at me. “We’ll talk about this later.” She goes back to her baking, leaving me to sit here in shame as I blush.

  “You really did that?” Kyler asks, trying not to smile.

  “I didn’t mean to say that aloud. I do stuff like that sometimes—talk without thinking.” I lean back on the sofa. “But yeah, Indigo—my cousin—and I went swimming in our underwear when we were in Scotland. It was more her idea than mine. She was really big on making sure we had a ton of crazy experiences.”

  “It sounds like that’s exactly what you did.” He playfully bumps knees with mine. “Maybe one day you can tell me more crazy stuff you did.”

  I bite back a smile. “Maybe one day, if you’re lucky.”

  He grins, totally noting my flirty tone. “Maybe when you come watch my game, we can go out and get something to eat. Hit up a party or something.”

  Okay, he’s definitely asking me out.

  I get all giddy then hesitate. I don’t know why, but at that moment, I think about Kai and the party we went to. We had so much fun. More fun than I’ve ever had. Would I have that much fun with Kyler? I’ll never know unless I go. Besides, going out with Kyler has been my dream since practically forever. I owe it to my eight-year-old self to do this. And talking with him today has been so easy.

  “That sounds like fun,” I say. “And I think it has crazy adventure potential.”

  “I think so, too.” He glances at his watch. “You’ll have to be the leader of our little adventure. I’m not very good at impulsive things.”

  “I’ll think of something,” I promise as he glances at his watch again.

  Am I boring him to death?

  “I still can’t believe you went to Scotland,” he says, looking back at me in awe. “I mean, I knew you went somewhere for the summer, but not Scotland.”

  I wonder where he thought I was this summer. Did he buy into Hannah’s mental institution thing?

  “Where exactly did you think I went this summer? I’m just curious.”

  “I knew you went on a trip with your grandma, but Kai never said exactly where you went.” He pauses, seeming conflicted. “Were you worried about Hannah’s rumor about
the mental institution thing? Because you should know, no one believes that.”

  “Really?” I hug a pillow against my chest. “Why not?”

  “Kai told everyone that it wasn’t true.” He intently studies my expression. “You didn’t know that?”

  “No, I didn’t. He never said anything to me about it.” My thoughts drift back to Kai.

  Why didn’t he tell me? I wish I knew so that I could have at least thanked him.

  God, I need to thank him, like, a lot.

  “Okay, I’m new at this not-being-a-douche thing, so you can totally tell me if I’m being rude,” he says with a hint of remorse in his voice. “But the games on in, like five minutes, and I—”

  I laugh, cutting him off. “Kyler, you can turn on the game. It’s cool.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yep.” I’m just glad I know what all the watch-checking was about.

  I turn on the television for him, and his attention instantly goes right to the screen.

  I think about sending Kai a text to thank him, but a text doesn’t feel like the right way.

  No, it should be in person.

  Eventually, the air permeates with the scent of soon-to-be-done, yummy-in-my-tummy cookies. I’ve just started contemplating getting up and going into the kitchen, wondering if it makes me rude, when Kyler turns to me as a commercial comes on.

  “You want me to explain the rules to you?” he asks. “If you’re going to come watch me play, you should probably know what’s going on. That way, you can cheer me on when I kick some ass.” He winks. “I kick ass a lot.”

  “I bet you do,” I tell him, smiling from the wink. “You can try to explain the rules to me, but I’m going to warn you that I usually don’t catch on to stuff very quickly, unless I’m actually doing it.”

  “I guess we’ll have to throw the ball around sometime, then.” The dimpled grin appears again, and my pulse quickens. “But I’ll try to explain it now, if that’s cool.” He gets an excited look in his eyes, like he’s pumped to be doing this.

  The look is contagious and gets me pumped, too, even if we’re going to be talking about football.

  He faces the television again, sitting back on the sofa and putting his arm on the back again. “Okay, so how much do you know about football?”

  “A little bit.” I’m hyperaware that he’s playing with my hair. I don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it. “My dad watches it sometimes, but he’s not a fan of me being anywhere near him when he does.”

  “But you’re good at sports, right?”

  “I’m okay, I guess. Football’s always seemed kind of boring to me, though.” I offer him an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not one of those guys who thinks the game is everything. You don’t have to like it. I just want to try to get you to kind of maybe like it enough not to be bored out of your mind when you’re at my game, okay?”

  I nod, and he smiles, jumping right in, yammering about downs, defense and offense, goals, two-point conversions. By the time he slows down, my mind is on football overdrive.

  “It’s okay if you don’t get it all at first,” he says when he notes the crazed, wild-eyed look I’m probably rocking.

  “Good, because I’m definitely not getting it at all.” I look at the television screen. “I mean, I get the gist of it, but there are so many rules and so many guys just running around on a field.”

  “I’m probably boring you to death, aren’t I?” He shifts positions, sitting up straight and lowering his hand to his lap. “I have an idea. How about for every rule I tell you, you get to tell me one thing about comics and superheroes?”

  “You know I’m into that stuff?”

  He nods. “I’ve seen some of your drawings at school. They’re pretty good.”

  I mull over his offer. “All right, Kyler, you have yourself a deal.”

  An hour later, he’s leaving with his freshly baked cookies, his head crammed full of superpower knowledge. I feel like I’m floating on clouds and skipping on rainbows, even if my head aches from football facts.

  The second the door closes, I overdramatically fall to the floor.

  “What the hell just happened?” I say, draping my arm over my head. “Did I seriously just spend over an hour talking to Kyler about football and Jedi mind skills?”

  Grandma Stephy laughs at me as she starts piling dirty bowls into the sink. “To be young and in love again. I’ve completely forgotten how silly love can make someone.”

  “I’m not in love with Kyler. I’m just …” I push up on my elbows. “You did hear him, right? I mean, I didn’t dream what just happened, did I? Because I’ve dreamed about him asking me out for a long, long time.” Well, up until recently. Lately, my dreams have been chock-full of worries about never finding my mom.

  “You’re awake, I promise.” She grabs a dishtowel and tosses it at my face. “Now, get your ass over here and help me clean up this mess.”

  I drag myself off the floor and put the flour and sugar in the pantry.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Isabella Anders, you need to stop asking that question before you ask a question,” she gripes as she puts the egg carton back into the fridge.

  “Sorry, but I kind of wanted to prepare you for what I was about to ask.”

  She pauses, worry creasing her face. “What is it?”

  I sigh then tell her about the photo and the birth certificate, omitting the details of what Kai and I did with the certificate. I also tell her about the texts I’ve been receiving.

  “I thought I told you to leave this alone and let me handle it? That snooping around wasn’t a good idea,” she says when I’m finished.

  “I can’t just sit around and wonder what’s going on.” I pull out a barstool and sit down. “Besides, I’m not even the one who found the certificate.”

  “Yeah, I think that part of your story’s really strange. I don’t understand why someone would just leave it on your bed.” Her puzzlement turns into a scowl. “I really wish you would’ve told me about these texts earlier.”

  “Why? It only would’ve just worried you. And if it is Hannah, you can’t stop her from sending them.”

  “But what if it isn’t Hannah?” She swallows hard and shifts her gaze to the counter.

  “Is there something else you aren’t telling me?” I question her suddenly suspicious behavior.

  She shakes her head, looks back and me, and forces a smile. “No. Not about this.”

  Way to be vague, Grandma.

  I have no idea what she could be keeping from me, and I start to question if maybe I’m over-analyzing it. Maybe all the stress of everything is starting to wear on me

  I rest my arms on the counter with a sigh. “This is driving me crazy not knowing what happened—where my mom is, who she is. I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore. Like I’m just this person floating around in the world, lost, without a family. And I don’t want to float anymore.”

  She takes a seat on a barstool beside me. “Honey, I know it’s confusing right now. Just give me some time to get the story out of your father. I know it’s not happening as fast as you like, but I really do believe that eventually he’ll break down and tell us if I push him enough.”

  I glance down at my bandaged knee, remembering the last time she tried to push him. “You really think you’ll be able to get him to tell you?”

  She hesitantly nods. “Eventually, yes.”

  I want to believe her—I really do—but my dad seems pretty dead set on no one telling me anything about my mom.

  “Do you have that photo on you?” she asks, wiping her hands off on a dishtowel.

  I retrieve the picture from my pocket and hand it to her.

  A faint smile rises on her lips. “You look a lot like her.” She shakes her head, looking up at me. “I’m so sorry you have to go through this.”

  “It’s not your fault.” I suck back the tears, get up, and start s
weeping the kitchen floor.

  One question is stuck in my head. How did my dad manage to keep my mom such a secret?

  “Isa, stop sweeping. The last thing you should be doing is cleaning.” She stands up and grabs her purse from the table. “Why don’t we go out for dinner? We can go to that diner you love, and I’ll even let you order dessert first.”

  “That sounds nice.” I smile so she’ll relax. Deep down, though, I know that even sugar isn’t going to cure the hole forming in the center of my heart.

  The only thing that will ever fix it is finding my real mom.

  Chapter 20

  Shit has officially hit the fan. Sunday morning, when I return home from my grandma’s, Lynn is there. And she’s alone.

  “Where’s Dad?” I ask as I enter the kitchen, which is still trashed from Hannah’s party.

  “He had to make a quick trip out to Florida for work,” she answers, sorting through the stack of mail on the counter littered with beer cans and plastic cups.

  “How long will he be gone?” My muscles ravel into knots as I remember how shitty she treated me the last time my dad went on a business trip.

  “A week or so.” She sets the mail down and gives me a look that sends a chill down my spine. “And I’m under strict orders to make sure you do your chores while he’s gone.”

  “My room and bathroom are already clean,” I say, hoping Hannah’s friends didn’t trash those rooms, too.

  “That’s nice, but I was talking about your new, extra chores.” Her smile grows as her gaze sweeps around the kitchen.

  “I didn’t make this mess,” I say, fighting to keep calm. Losing my cool is only going to make this worse. “I wasn’t even here.”

  “How do I know that for sure?” She grabs the handle of her suitcase and drags it with her as she heads for the door. “It makes much more sense to me that you would have the party. Hannah’s too good of a girl. Now hurry and get this place cleaned so I can give you your list of chores.”

  I grip the edge of the counter and bite back a stream of expletives clawing up my throat.