I roll off my bed and do an awesome zombie impression as I crawl across my floor toward my dresser. “Must . . . get . . . sugar . . .”
When I reach the dresser, I hoist myself to my feet and raid the top drawer for some old Halloween candy I stashed there months ago. I find a half eaten bag of jellybeans and a half eaten chocolate bar that doesn’t have a wrapper, and I devour both of them.
Turns out the chocolate bar has the gross addition of almonds. I instantly dry heave, realizing why the candy bar was only half eaten to begin with.
“Gross!” I search for a trashcan to spit it out, but I have no clue where mine ended up, so I trip out onto the balcony and spit out the mouthful of candy over the edge.
It takes me about two seconds to realize what a stupid idea this was for three different reasons:
1. My sister is hanging out in the driveway, which is right below my window.
2. The chocolate I just spit out has landed on her head.
3. She’s talking to our neighbor, Kyler Meyers.
Kyler Meyers. What can I say about him other than he’s gorgeous, popular, the star quarterback, and smart. Like, he takes AP classes and has a 4.0 GPA kind of smart. I’m also in love with him, have been since I was eight years old and he stopped Hannah’s ring of minions from picking on me during recess.
“Hey, just leave her alone,” he said when he stumbled across us at the playground.
They had me trapped on the top of the slide and were threatening to push me down it. It wouldn’t have been a big deal except there was a giant mud puddle at the bottom. Somehow, Hannah had managed to scare all the rest of the kids away, so no one was around to witness what was about to go down. Even the recess monitor was MIA.
Hannah had crossed her arms and raised her brows at Kyler. “Why’re you sticking up for her, Kyler? She’s a loser.” She stepped toward him and batted her eyelashes. “How about you just go back to playing football with your friends and leave us alone.”
Kyler glanced at me then around the empty playground. For a moment, I thought he was going to bail, but then he stepped around Hannah and her friends and offered me his hand. “Come on, Isa.”
I took his hand and he helped me to my feet. When they’d chased me up here, I’d fallen down and scraped up my knees, but I hardly felt the pain as he held my hand and guided me off the playground.
He only let go of my hand when we were a safe distance away from them. “Are you okay?”
Unable to find my voice, I nodded.
“You should try to stay away from her,” he said, looking over his shoulder at Hannah and her crew, who had targeted a new victim.
“Okay.” I managed to get one word out and was super proud of that.
He offered me a smile before heading back to the field to play football with his friends, oblivious to how much his good deed meant to me. It was the first time someone had stuck up for me. Ever. And I’ve been in love with him ever since.
I know my crush won’t ever go anywhere, but I guess I’m a glutton for punishment. Deep down, I get that I’m not really in love with Kyler, especially since sometimes he does things that make me hate him. But in love sounds so much less porn star-ish than in lust.
The playground isn’t the only time he’s done something nice for me, though. There’s so much more to my in lust crush than that.
When I was in eighth grade, he gave me a rose on Valentine’s Day.
“Hey, Isa, I have something for you,” he said as he jogged across the middle school parking lot toward me.
I paused when he said my nickname and gaped at him spastically with half a brownie in my mouth. He was a year older than I was, and I couldn’t figure out why he was talking to me. Not only was I Hannah’s loser younger sister, but I was in middle school and he was in high school.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He stuck out his hand, and his fingers were wrapped around the stem of a red rose.
I cautiously glanced from the rose to him then gulped the brownie down. “Is this a trick?”
Chuckling, he brushed his brown hair out of his eyes. “Why would I ever want to trick you, Isabella? I have no reason to.”
My insides quivered at the sound of my name leaving his lips. The last time he had any social interaction with me was when I was in the third grade and he stopped some of his friends from picking on me, including Hannah.
My gaze darted around the mostly vacant parking lot as I searched for a blonde-haired girl hiding out somewhere, laughing her ass off. “Did my sister put you up to this?”
He swiftly shook his head. “I swear to God it’s not a trick. I just wanted to do something nice.”
The Year I Became Isabella Anders (Sunnyvale, #1)
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