The Year I Became Isabella Anders
Cute? Did he just call me cute? No, I must've heard him wrong.
I don't go over there right away. Ever since the first day of school, Kai and I haven't really talked that much. But he's also skipped out on a lot classes, and the few times he has made a grand appearance, he seems exhausted and out of it. I don't want to jump to conclusions like the rest of the town, but it's almost like he wants people to think he's a troublemaker.
"Would you stop overthinking and get your ass over here?" he yells at me, smiling as he leans over the railing.
"Oh, fine. Take away my rain fun." I hike up his driveway and dive underneath the shelter of the porch.
"That's a nice look for you. Totally weather appropriate too," he teases as he gives a once over to my drenched shorts, jacket, and hair. The black shirt, dark jeans, and a studded belt he's wearing make him look like he's trying to go Goth. This isn't his normal look, so I wonder if he's going somewhere or just taking his bad boy image to a new level.
I wring my hair out. "I can't wear anything else other than shorts and sandals until my knee heals; otherwise, the stitches hurt."
"Stitches?" He frowns. "What happened?"
"I jumped out of a moving car and fell on a piece of glass." I shrug like it's no big deal.
"Very badass." He stares at me long enough to make my insecurity go up about a thousand notches. "I was actually just teasing you about your clothes. Although, you definitely pull off the wet clothes look." He tugs on a wet strand of my hair and dazzles me with a lopsided smile. "Relax, Isa. I'm not making fun of you. Never have." His smile broadens. "And you look fine in wet clothes. But cold." He nods at the door. "Come on. Let's get you inside."
I wrap my arms around myself as I shiver. "I am kinda freezing my ass off." My teeth clank together as the chattering sets in. "But don't worry, I'm tough."
"I know you are." He winks at me for God knows what reason. I must give him a funny look, because he laughs and says, "Relax, I don't bite," before opening the door.
We step inside the washroom and I slip off my shoes so I won't track mud all over the hardwood floors.
"You should take your jacket off too," Kai says as he shuts the door. "My mom is weird about us tracking water through the house."
Nodding, I unzip my jacket and slip my arms out of my sleeves. Kai watches me from the doorway like I'm the most fascinating thing in the world as I hang it up on the hook near the door. Thankfully, my shirt's fairly dry, and after losing the cold, wet jacket, my body temperature starts to warm up again.
"So . . ." I wrap my arms around myself more. I've never been in his house before, and I feel so nervous. "You said you could take me to the store."
He nods, backing through the doorway and into the kitchen with his eyes on me. "I can give you a ride when I head out to a party if you want."
"Okay," I confusedly follow him into the kitchen, "but that means I'd have to walk home." I hold up my hands when he arches a brow at me. "Which is totally fine by me."
He scoops up an apple from a basket on the counter. "It'll probably be late when I head out. I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to be walking around in the rain while it's late."
"Um . . ." Okay, I so don't get guys. Didn't he offer to take me to the store? So why does it sound like he doesn't want to now? "I guess I can just walk there right now then."
He bites into the apple and studies me while chewing. "Or, you could just go with me."
"To a party with you."
He chuckles, wiping juice from his chin with his sleeve. "You don't have to sound so disgusted when you say it. I promise I'm not that gross." He wavers, bobbing his head from side to side. "Now the party on the other hand, I'm not going to make any promises."
"I don't think you're gross. I'm just confused."
"Over?"
"Over you inviting me to one of your parties. I mean, I know you said that when you were drunk, but I didn't think you were serious."
"I was--am. And it's not my party. It's Bradon's." He takes another bite of the apple. "You know. That guy you met at my locker."
"Yeah, I remember," I say, trying not to think about how he blew me off the moment Bradon showed up.
"Something's up," Kai accuses, eyeing me down. "You have a tone."
I shrug, feigning dumb. "That's just how my voice sounds."
"No, it doesn't." He sinks his teeth into the apple again. "You don't like Bradon."
"I don't even know Bradon, other than the two seconds we met at your locker."
"Then what's with the tone?"
I chew on my bottom lip and shrug.
He gives me a stern look. "Isa, don't make me get it out of you."
I roll my eyes. "You say that like you have the power to actually make me. And you don't, unless you're secretly a wizard."
He smashes his lips together, suppressing a laugh. Then, with his gaze trained on me, he sets the apple down on the counter and cracks his knuckles. "I do know how to make you, even if I don't have magic powers. Well, unless you've become less ticklish over the last five years." He bedazzles me with an arrogant grin as I step away from him.
"You promised me when I told you my kryptonite that you'd never use it against me," I gripe as I take another step back. But this time, he matches my move, stealing the space I put between us. "Kai, I'm serious. You promised you wouldn't ever tickle me."
"I don't remember making such a promise."
"Oh, yeah, well . . ." I frantically search for a way to stop him.
"I don't know why you're acting so scared. There's nothing to get scared about. It's just a little tickling." He innocently bats his eyelashes at me
"Oh yeah, well . . . FYI, you just fluttered your eyelashes like a girl." I know it's a lame attempt to get him to stop, but it's all I've got at the moment.
Of course, he finds my attempt more amusing than annoying, and even laughs. I narrow my eyes at him, trying to think of a better insult, but I'm blindsided as he barrels at me with his fingers ready to attack my sides.
"Kai! Stop!" I squeal, hunching over and trying to protect my sides with my arms. I snort a big old pig laugh as he tickles the air out of me. "If you don't stop, I'm going to tell everyone at school that you know what kryptonite is and that you used to want to be Superman."
"That was in the seventh grade." He continues tickling me. "That stuff doesn't matter anymore."
I swing around him and skitter around the kitchen island, but he catches the back of my shirt. "So, you just outgrew that phase then, huh?" I ask between my laughs as he drags me back toward him.
"No, I still think it'd be pretty cool to be Superman." His fingers dig into my sides, his chest is pressed against my back, and his warm breath is brushing the back of my neck. "I just don't give a shit if anyone finds that out anymore."
When his fingers stop moving, I peek up at him. "You're saying that you've changed since seventh grade? That you're not that guy anymore who wants to be so popular?" I roll my eyes just to bug him.
"I'm not even close to that guy anymore," he promises me, with his hands on my waist. "And it's not that crazy to change over five years. You changed over three months."
"Okay, I get your point, I guess, but it's still kind of hard to believe you've changed that much." This time, I do have a tone.
He sighs heavily. "Isa, I really am sorry I was a dick to you back then. I know it's not an excuse, but I was dealing with a lot of shit, and . . ." He shrugs, which looks awkward, since he still has his hands on me and his chest aligned with my back. "I've wanted to apologize to you for a while, but every time I say anything to you, you'd act like I was the most annoying person in the world. But I get it. I totally deserve for you to treat me like that."
"You can be the most annoying person in the world," I joke, but my emotions get the best of me and my voice cracks. "It's okay, I guess. I mean, I get it. We were different people back then."
"It's not okay. And I'm going to make it up to you. Somehow."
"Yo
u don't have to do that. The apology was enough." I pause. "I am a little confused about something, though. All during school last year, you teased the crap out of me. It didn't seem like you were that sorry."
"My teasing is playful," he insists, his hands sliding around to my stomach. "I've told you that already."
"Then why did you act like a weirdo when Bradon came up to us while we were talking at your locker?" I decide it's time to be blunt, instead of tiptoeing around everything. Like in London, when I kissed Nyle. I want to be that girl again and stop letting being home get me so down. "Because it felt like you were acting weird, because . . . you were embarrassed to be seen with me." My chest tightens as I think about all the times people were embarrassed to be seen with me. "Which I totally get. I know I'm not even close to being popular or anything, and everyone keeps staring at me like I'm some fungus that crawled out of a swamp."
A strange look crosses his face that I can't decipher. "You think they're staring at you, because they think you're a fungus that crawled out of a swamp?"
"I don't know," I say, puzzled over the odd look he's giving me. "I mean, they probably don't literally think I'm fungus, but they definitely stare at me like I am."
"That's not why they're staring at you. I promise."
"I don't really care why they're gawking. I just want them to stop. It makes me feel self-conscious, and I've had way too much of that in my life. That's what I loved about being overseas. No one knew me, so I never had to worry about people making fun of me."
"No one's making fun of you," he says earnestly. "But I'll see what I can do with the staring."
"What? Are you going to ask the entire school to stop looking at me?" I ask jokingly, expecting him to laugh.
"I could do that, but I think I'll try something else first," he says with a devious smile as he wiggles his brows at me.
"Don't do anything that'll make it worse," I beg, clasping my hands together. "Please, promise me you won't, Kai."
"Cross my heart and hope to die. Stick a needle in Hannah's eye," he says then kisses the tip of my ear before letting me go.
I jolt from the weird kiss move, which only makes him laugh.
"Well, at least you think you're funny," I tease him.
"I know you think I'm funny too." He picks up his half eaten apple then flashes me his pearly whites. "It's why you're always laughing when you're around me."
I open my mouth to tease him, to tell him he's never funny, that I never, ever laugh at him, and that he should stop telling jokes all the time, but Kyler walks into the kitchen.
He's wearing loose fitting basketball shorts and a tank top, and his hair is damp, like he just got out of the shower.
The only time I've seen him since I got back from my trip was when he was arguing with Hannah down in the driveway. Being this close to him puts my love/lust meter into confusion mode. I spent three months irritated with him, because I thought he was dating Hannah, and I thought I'd gotten over my crush on him. But then, the other day, I found out he was never really dating her, and now it's left me feeling more confused than ever.
Do I like him still?
Kinda, sorta, yeah.
"Hey, have you seen my gym bag?" Kyler asks Kai as he heads for the fridge. But when he catches sight of me, he freezes, his brows pulling together. "Hey . . ."
"Hey." I wince at the breathiness of my voice.
Get your shit together. Don't be nervous. You're not like that anymore. You kissed Nyle on the London Eye for Christ's sake. And you're not even sure how you feel about him anymore.
Kyler seems to find my spasticness more amusing than repulsive, and smiles at me. I'm convinced he doesn't recognize me, because he's never smiled at me like that before, not even when he gave me the rose or hung out with me while we played basketball.
The rose. The pity gift.
I frown, remembering what Hannah told me. Was there any truth to her words?
"Isa, why do you look like you just ate something sour?" Kai asks, yanking me back to reality.
"Because I did eat something sour," I lie.
Kai rolls his eyes. "Whatever."
"You look different, Isa," Kyler says, studying me from head to toe.
Well, at least he seems to know who I am.
"Um, thanks," I reply, unsure if different is a compliment or not.
"I don't mean that in a bad way," Kyler quickly explains. "I just meant that you look different. Good different, I promise."
He smiles at me, a smile that reaches his eyes. I can't help but smile back and probably look as goofy as Goofy himself.
"Thanks," I tell him with more confidence.
His lips part, but Kai cuts him off.
"Your gym bag's in the car," he says coldly. "You left it there after practice, and Mom blamed it on me. I have no fucking clue why it's my responsibility to take care of your shit."
"She probably thought it was your bag," Kyler tells him, ripping his attention off me. "You always leave yours in there and it stinks up the car."
"I haven't had a gym bag in almost a year." Kai reclines against the counter with his arms folded.
"I thought you were going to try to get back on the team this year?" Kyler asks Kai, using his lean arms to reach up and open one of the top cupboards.
Kai shakes his head with annoyance flaring in his eyes. "That's Mom's wishful thinking. I'm not going to try out for the team. I have better things to do with my time."
"Like what?" Kyler grabs a box of protein bars before shutting the cupboard. "Get high and watch television?"
Okay, things are really starting to get awkward and uncomfortable. I'm deciding whether I should back out of the room and bail, when Kyler turns to me.
"Sorry about that," he says to me. "We shouldn't be arguing like this in front of you."
Kai scowls at Kyler. "Why? She hears us all the time when she's out on her balcony, listening to us."
"Hey." I shoot Kai a dirty look. "Way to throw me under the bus."
Kai looks a tab bit remorseful. "Sorry. But he already knows you do it."
"It's okay," Kyler says to me, tucking the box under his arm. "I always thought it was kind of cute the way you watched us."
He may be trying to make me feel better, but I feel like a class-A freak right now.
"I have to get to practice." Kyler grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge then backs toward the washroom. "Isa?"
I gradually turn around to look at him. "Yeah?"
"You should come watch one of my games sometime." He flashes me a dimpled grin. "You could come cheer me on and bring me good luck. Like you did with my free shots."
I internally gag. Football. So gross and soooo boring. Seriously, I've been in the room while my dad's watching games, and it's a yawn fest. I'd way rather spend my time reading, drawing, going to Comic-Con, getting my favorite books signed, or blogging. Hell, I'd take running to the paint store in my underwear over watching a bunch of dudes throw a ball around and tackle each other.
But I'm not about to tell Kyler any of this. Not when he just invited me to go see him play. And in public. Not just when we're at one of our houses, where no one can see us.
I plaster on the fakest smile. "Sounds like super fun!" Okay, I might have gone a little overboard with the super.
Kyler grins, seeming oblivious to the fact I'm faking my enthusiasm. "Awesome. There's one next Friday. Let me know if you need a ride." He winks at me like Kai does all the time.
I keep on smiling until he leaves the house then my head slumps forward and my mouth falls open. "Holy shit."
Kai snorts a laugh. "Watching you try to sound happy about watching him play was seriously the most entertaining thing I've ever seen."
I sweep loose strands of my rain-kissed hair out of my face then turn to face him. "I hate football, okay. Honestly, I'm not a fan of watching any sport, period."
"But you play them." He opens the fridge and takes out two cans of Coke. "I remember you winning some sort o
f free shot contest or something."
"Playing sports and watching them are two totally different things." I catch a can of Coke as he tosses one to me. "I have a short attention span unless it involves books, writing, or drawing."
"I know you do," he says simply while popping the tab of the can open.
"How could 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. Has 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've been 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.