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

“You’re setting yourself up with these,” he says. “Jesus, Isa. What the heck happened to you while you were on that trip? You leave all innocent and come back with a dirty mouth.”


I pinch him in the side again and he ends up dropping one of the bags, and it lands on my toe.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He sets the other bag down and reaches to touch me then pulls back. “Are you okay?”

I glance down at my boot. “I’m fine. Totally didn’t feel a thing with the boots.”

“Are you sure?”

I bob my head up and down, and he smiles tensely, fidgeting as he steps back from me.

Why is he acting like a squirrely weirdo?

“Come on.” He picks up the bags, going right back to the chillaxed version of Kai. “I want to see what you got me.”

Nobody’s home. That’s the first thing I notice when I walk in. I’m not surprised my family isn’t here to welcome me home, but it still hurts and makes me want to find my real mom even more.

Kai finds his own way to my room through my house, with me tailing at his heels. I’m surprised he remembers where everything is, since he hasn’t been here for five years. But he navigates through the hallways easily and makes it to my room.

The moment he steps inside, though, he frowns. “What happened to all your posters and drawings?”

Confused, I scramble inside to see what he’s talking about. The moment I catch sight of the bare and freshly painted white walls, my jaw collides with the floor. “I don’t . . .” I yank my fingers through my hair as I turn in a circle. “Someone took all my stuff down.

“You didn’t take them down?” Kai asks, dropping the bags onto my bed.

I shake my head as tears burn in my eyes. “They were here when I left. I don’t know what happened.”

But really, I do. Either my mom took them down, or it was Hannah’s form of revenge. Neither is a good alternative, because both probably mean all my posters and drawings are gone forever.

What if they’re gone? What if I never see some of that stuff again? As depressing as it is, that stuff was a huge part of my life, especially my drawings.

Reality knocks the wind out of me, and a few tears manage to escape from my eyes.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” Kai says when he notices the waterworks.

I feel stupid, like a loser again, who cries over ridiculous drawings and posters, because they mean more to her than they should. “I’m sorry.” I wipe away the tears with the back of my hand. “This is so stupid. I shouldn’t be crying over drawings, especially in front of you.”

“Hey, I cry too,” Kai assures me, pressing his hand to his heart. “And I’ve cried over drawings and posters before.”

“In front of people?” I question, and he hesitates. “See? That’s the difference between you and me. You’re not crazy enough to cry in front of other people who could eventually use it against you.”

“I’m not going to use this against you,” he promises. “Seriously, Isa. I’m not that big of an asshole.”

“Sometimes you kind of are, though, to me anyway. With everyone else, you’re usually so chill, but with me . . . it’s like you get your kicks and giggles out of making me uncomfortable.”

He rubs his hand across his jawline, considering something. “Okay, I’ll admit I tease you a lot, but only because I’m comfortable around you.” When I stare at him in disbelief, he adds, “Well, more comfortable around you than most people.” He sighs when I still keep looking at him with skepticism. “Look, when I’m around other people, I’m different—I know this. But everyone expects me to be this intense, serious guy all the time, like Kyler is.”

“I hate to break it to ya, but Kyler’s not that intense and serious all the time,” I say, remembering how much he laughed when we spent those few weeks shooting hoops and hanging out.

Kai rolls his eyes. “Oh, please. The guy never, ever cracks a joke. Seriously, he’s like the most serious person I’ve ever met, and honestly, he’s kind of fucking boring. And you should hear him talk about sports. Talk about a snorefest.” He bobs his head back and lets out a snore, emphasizing his point.

I try not to laugh, because he’s making fun of Kyler, and it shouldn’t be funny, yet a strangled laugh flees from my mouth.

Kai grins at the sound. “See? Deep down, you agree with me. You just don’t want to admit it.”

“I don’t agree with you,” I insist. “Kyler’s not boring. He’s just quiet and shy.”

He makes a choking, gurgling sound then gapes at me. “Kyler’s not shy at all, Isa. He’s the most arrogant, self-assured asshole I’ve ever met.”

“He might be that way to you,” I say. “But to me, he seems quiet and nice.”

“Wrong again. He’s not nice. Not when you know him like I do.” His features harden as he shakes his head in irritation. “My life would’ve been so much easier if he’d gone farther away for college, but no, he had to go here so he could remind me daily who the better Meyers is.”