The Year I Became Isabella Anders

  "It's okay. I'm not one of those guys who thinks the game is everything. You don't have to like it. But I 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?" he asks and I nod.

  He smiles and jumps 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-eye 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's 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 too. 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 and 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 dreamt 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 into 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 thought I told you to leave this alone and let me handle this. 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. "It's driving me crazy not knowing what happened, where she 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, but 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 just 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 I've heard the two of them yelling on the phone at each other over the last couple of weeks, and 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."

  "Have you ever seen her before?"

  She shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I really am. I wish you didn't have to go through this."

  "It's not your fault." I suck back the tears, get up, and start sweeping the kitchen floor.

  But 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, but deep down, 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.

  SHIT HAS OFFICIALLY hit the fan. Because 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 she had last night.

  "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.

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

  "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.

  "But I didn't make this mess," I say, fighting to keep calm, because losing my cool is only going to make this worse. "I wasn't even here."

  "How do I know that for sure, though?" She grabs the handle of her suitcase and drags it with her as she heads for the doorway. "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.

  This is going to be a hellishly long week.

  For the next week and a half I play the role of Isabella Smellera, cleaning and taking on the role as the maid for my mom and Hannah. I thought my dad would be back by now, but every time I ask Lynn about when he's coming home, she just shrugs and says, "He'll be back when he gets back. Now get to work."

  I try to call my dad a couple of times, but my calls go straight to voicemail. I try text and email, but I receive no reply. By the time Friday rolls around, it's been two weeks since I've seen or heard from my father, and I'm beginning to get really concerned that maybe Lynn murdered him on their getaway and dropped his body into the ocean.

  "I'm sure he's fine," Kai says as I express my concern to him during third period. "I know Lynn's a bitch and everything, but I don't think she'd kill anyone." He flashes me a teasing grin, trying to lighten the mood. "It'd be too messy for her, and she wouldn't risk getting blood on her clothes."

  "I hope you're right." I add shading to the drawing I'm working on, instead of doing the math assignment.

  Kai and I haven't really hung out very much lately, mostly because I've been too busy cleaning the house and cooking for Lynn and Hannah. Same with me and Kyler, but we do have a date scheduled for tomorrow. Now, whether I can get out of the house to actually go on it is an entirely different question.

  As for Kai and his issues with his parents, I haven't had a chance to ask him more about that, but I haven't noticed any more welts on him or heard any yelling next door. That doesn't mean I'm going to stop keeping an eye on him.

  And the kiss . . . well, somehow the two of us have silently agreed never to mention it again. I think about it sometimes, though. Just like I t
hink about Kyler.

  I'm a very, very confused girl.

  "I'm always right," Kai jokes, reaching across the row to flick my hair with a pencil. "You should know that by now."

  "Kai and Isa, keep it down," Mr. Marelli warns from his desk.

  Half the class turns and stares at us. While the staring has toned down, I still haven't made any real friends. I do have a few people I chat with during classes, thanks to Kai and that party, where he introduced me to people.

  Kai rolls his eyes, but faces forward in his desk again, and starts scribbling the answers on the assignment sheet. I work on my sketch again, getting lost as I draw the superhero version of me.

  "You need a sidekick," Kai whispers, leaning over in his chair to look at my work.

  "I usually have one," I whisper back as I draw an angled line. "But I thought I'd go solo on this mission."

  "No way. I want to come." He does his pouty lip, fluttery eyelash move. "Come on. Make me your sidekick."

  Grinning, I press the pencil to the paper and give into his request.

  He smiles, relaxing back in his chair with his arms tucked behind his head. "See? The move does work on you."

  My grin grows as I finish the drawing then hold it up for him to see.

  "Why does my head look so big?" he wonders, putting the tip of the pencil to his lip.

  "It has to be big," I explain, "in order to fit your superhero name."

  "Which is?"

  "Ego Man."

  "Isa, come on," he whines. "I know you can do better than that."

  "I don't know. Ego Man seems pretty fitting."

  "Fine, but if I'm Ego Man, then you're Vain Girl, and our kryptonite is mirrors, because we stare in them for too long."

  I giggle softly. "I'm not vain."

  "And I don't have an inflated ego," he insists. "But hey, you're the one who wanted to play this game."

  "A game I'm winning." I show him my pearly whites.

  He rolls his eyes. "In your dreams."

  "Isa and Kai, this is your final warning," Mr. Marelli warns, scowling at us.

  We both grow quiet until Kai says, "But then what happens to us? I mean, his threat seemed so ominous, but he didn't finish it."

  I choke on a laugh and Kai grins. Unfortunately for us, Mr. Marelli doesn't think it's so funny and makes Kai move to the desk at the front of the classroom. I spend the rest of class working on the assignment and dreading lunch, since I still spend it sitting alone in the cafeteria.

  When the bell rings, I slowly put my stuff away to kill time.

  "What are you doing for lunch?" Kai asks as he strolls down the aisle toward my desk.

  "What I always do." I swing my backpack over my shoulder. "Go to the cafeteria and eat lunch."

  "Ew, you eat in the cafeteria?" He pulls an I'm-gonna-barf face.

  "It's the only place to eat, since I don't have a car to drive anywhere."

  "I don't have my car today either. I had to let Kyler borrow it, because his is in the shop." He frowns as if just realizing this.

  "You can always eat with me," I offer. "In the ewy cafeteria."

  His expression contorts with disgust. "There's no way I'm eating that food." He looks at the clock and then at the door. "Come on. I have an idea."

  I follow him out into the busy hallway, where he finds a girl named Marla, who I think's a junior and who has a car. Using his eyelash fluttering move, he sweet talks her into giving us a ride to Sunnyvale Burger Drive-In, although she doesn't seem too thrilled I'm included in the 'us'.

  I spend most of the drive in the backseat, listening to her laugh at everything Kai says, even stuff that's not funny at all. When we reach the burger place, Kai thanks her for the ride then hops out and opens the door for me.

  "Wait? You don't need a ride back to school?" she asks, leaning over the console and smiling at him as her cleavage pops out of her top. "Because I don't mind giving you one."

  "We're actually going to walk somewhere after we get our food." Kai shuts the door after I climb out.

  The hope in her eyes goes poof, and I kind of feel bad for her. "Okay, well if you ever need a ride again, just let me know." With that, she glares at me before pushing the shifter into reverse and backing out of the space.

  "I think I'm cramping your style," I tell Kai as we head for the entrance doors. "Did you see that dirty look she gave me?"

  Kai feigns dumb. "I didn't notice anything."

  "You liar." I pinch his ribs.

  He laughs as he opens the door and lets me walk through first. "You're so violent all the time."

  "Just admit it," I say as I walk up to the counter. "You totally just played her."

  "I told her straight up that we needed a ride." He examines the menu above the register. "She knew the plan the entire time--that I was going to get lunch with you. She let herself get played."

  I decide to let it go, because I'm dying to ask something else. "Why are you eating lunch with me? You never have before."

  "Usually I have stuff to do at lunch." He keeps his attention fixed on the menu. "But since I don't have a car today, that stuff's been put on hold until tomorrow."

  "What kind of stuff?"

  "Just stuff."

  Ever since I read the text from T, I've been really worried about him. I keep waiting for him to show up at school with bruises or broken bones, but so far, he seems okay. Still, I have to wonder what exactly he owes this T guy that would lead to such threats.

  "But you're okay, right?"

  "I'm always okay," he says without looking at me.

  I don't think I believe him.

  After we get our lunch, we leave the burger place and start down the sidewalk, and not in the direction of our school.

  "Where are we going?" I ask then sip on the straw of my shake.

  He winks at me as he pops a fry into his mouth. "It's a surprise."

  I pull my aviator sunglasses down over my eyes to block out the blinding sunlight. "We won't be late for class, though, right?"

  "We might be a few minutes late." He puts his own sunglasses on. "But I promise it'll be worth it."

  He picks up his pace and I chase after him as he makes a right and ducks into the park. The moment he jogs to the grassy area, I know where he's going and it makes me grin like a goof.

  I race after him as he sprints toward the hollowed out tree tucked away near the rickety old seesaw. When we reach it, Kai ducks in and I follow. But since we're taller than we used to be, getting us both in becomes a puzzle. We end up sitting side by side with our legs sticking out of the entrance.

  "I miss coming here," I state as I peel the wrapper off my hamburger. "It's so quiet and peaceful."

  "I'm actually surprised they haven't cut the tree down yet," he says, pulling his burger out of the bag. "They've cut down a ton of them already."

  I pick off the pickles and take a bite of my burger. "Maybe this one's still here, because they know it's magical."

  Kai chuckles at me as he chews his food. "Maybe, but I doubt it."

  "You never know." I steal a fry from him and pop it into my mouth. "It could be magical."

  His expression tightens. "I don't believe in magic anymore, so I can't agree with you."

  The edge in his tone makes my concern for his wellbeing go up about fifty thousand notches.

  "Kai, I know you don't want to talk about it--you've made that pretty clear--but just promise me you're going to be okay. That the threat that T guy made to you won't really happen."

  He stares out the hole, chewing on his food. "I'll be okay."

  "Promise?"

  He looks at me, his eyes smoldering. "Isa, you don't need to worry about me. I can take care of myself."

  "I know I don't need to worry about you," I say, sounding a little worked up. "But I do."

  "Why?" he wonders, still keeping his intense stare fixed on me.

  I swallow hard. "Because I just do." I haven't thanked him yet for telling everyone that Hannah's rumor was
false, and it feels like the right time. "Kai, I want to thank you."

  "Oh yeah? For what?" He seems really distracted.

  "For telling everyone I didn't spend a summer in a mental institution."

  "You found out about that?"

  I nod. "I've been meaning to thank you, but I wanted to make sure it was when we were alone so I could press how much it means to me. No one's ever done something like that for me, especially when I was such a dork."

  "It's not a big deal." His gaze drops to my lips, and he wets his own lips with his tongue. "It's really not."

  I'm not sure if he's talking to me or himself, but he seems extremely fascinated with my lips.

  Holy shit, is he going to kiss me again?

  Holy shit, do I want him to kiss me again?

  And while we're both sober?

  Sober equals no excuses. Sober means we both want it.

  Before I can decide what I'm going to do, the seesaw outside lets out an ear-scratching squeak and Kai and I both shudder.

  "God, I think that just broke my eardrum." He presses his finger to his ear and works his jaw back and forth.

  I free a trapped breath, relieved the noise happened and that it broke the intense moment. I honestly don't know what I would've done if Kai kissed me while we were sober. Part of me craves another taste of his soft lips again and the explosions I felt inside, while another part of me can't help but think of Kyler. Which means I shouldn't be kissing Kai.

  I need to figure out what I want.

  "We should probably get going," Kai says, gathering our trash, "if we're going to get you back in time for class."

  "Yeah, we probably should." I climb out of the tree, taking my trash with me.

  The walk back to school is quiet. I want to break the silence, because it's driving me crazy and makes me kinda sad--Kai and I never have awkward silence. But I don't know what to say to him, since I'm a little unclear on why he seems so standoffish. Was it because of the kiss? Or something else?

  "So I'm going to a party tomorrow," he says to me as we turn and head up the path that leads to the entrance doors of the school. "I was thinking, if you wanted to, you could come with me."

  "That sounds fun, and I really wish I could go." I really mean it. I wish I could go with him. "But . . . but I already told Kyler I'd go to his game."

  "Oh, okay." Kai looks as perplexed as I feel.

  I pick at a loose thread on the bottom of my dress as awkward silence stretches between us again. I hate this. I want to go back to our playful conversations. "Maybe if it gets over in time, I can meet up with you though," I say.