The Year I Became Isabella Anders (Sunnyvale, #1)

So, with a deep breath, I gag down my shot and amble for the dance floor.

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.

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

“You look so happy,” Indigo remarks as we lazily wander down the hallway toward our room.

“I am happy. Like really, really happy,” I say as she rests her head on my shoulder and leans all her weight against me.

I do the same thing back to her and we giggle.

“I’m too tired. Hold me up,” she whines through our giggling.

“No way. You hold me up. You’re the one who made me dance.”

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

Right as we’re about to tip over, my phone vibrates from inside my pocket. I don’t have to look to know who the message is from, because he’s the only person who’s texted me during this entire trip.

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 it. 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 onto 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.

My cheeks blaze with heat as I put the phone away without sending Kai another message. “Well, I know Kai.”

She examines my face intently and I wonder what the hell she sees. “You should ask him for a pic, so I can see what he looks like.”

I shake my head. “No way. Then you’d try to push me to flirt with him even more.”

“Why? Is he hot?”

I shrug. “Sure. I mean, a lot of girls at my school think so.”

“Do you think so?” she presses.

I sigh. “Yeah, but so what? It’s not like he’d ever think the same way about me.”

Indigo targets me with a don’t be silly, Isa look, something she does a lot. “No guy is that obsessed with getting a picture from a girl unless he likes her.”

“Kai doesn’t like me.” I grit my teeth, thinking about how embarrassed he looked when we were spotted walking home together. “Trust me.”

“It seems like he does to me. I think you might just be in denial, because you don’t think there’s any way a guy could ever like you.”

“I don’t think that anymore.” I glance down at my red and black dress and my long, hairless legs. “But Kai hasn’t seen me like this. He only knows the awkward, hairy-legged beast Isa.”