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

Hmm . . . perhaps Kai’s one-eighty transformation might have had something to do with his brother.

“Okay, I get you’re not a fan of your brother.” I tread with caution, because I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but at the same time, I feel bitter over how Kai treated me in seventh grade. While Kyler hasn’t been my best friend or anything, he’s always been nice to me, said hi to me in the hallways, and always stands up for me while I’m being picked on. Kai, on the other hand, spends most of his time teasing me, and he’s never offered me an apology for telling his friend I was a stalker. “But Kyler’s been nice to me.”

“I’ve been nicer to you more than he has.” He shifts his weight, seeming uneasy about something. Perhaps how he treated me in the past? I’ll never know, since he won’t say anything about it aloud. “Maybe not all the time, but definitely more than he has.”

“You’ve also been mean to me more than he has, too.” My hands shake as I remember the day he ripped out my heart and stomped on it.

“Most of the time, I’m just teasing you.” His voice is a drop unsteady as he tiptoes around the big, ugly elephant in the room. “And I only do that, because I’m comfortable around you and you don’t expect anything from me.” He shrugs, offering me a small, oddly sheepish smile. “You treat me like a normal guy. You never use me to get to my brother.” Another shrug, like that’s that.

So, he definitely has issues with Kyler. But now that I think about it, I’m not that surprised. Kai always has kind of lived in Kyler’s shadow when it comes to sports and girls and grades. It’s not like he’s not good at any of those things. It’s just that he’s always one step behind Kyler, almost perfect, but not quite.

But he’s way funnier.

Maybe I should tell him that.

Be nicer to him than he’s been to me. Try to cheer him up like I used to.

“I’m going to stop you right there,” he says. “Because I can already see you trying to put me together, and no one can put me together, Isa. I’m all kinds of fucked up.” He swings around me and backs for the doorway. “And you still owe me a present for carrying your bags up the stairs. You better make sure to bring it to school with you on Monday; otherwise, I’m going to have to start charging interest.” He winks at me before turning on his heels and leaving my room.

The silence sets in as I take in the bare walls around me. “This is so depressing,” I mutter. “There’s no way I can look at this for the next nine months.”

An idea smacks me in the head. One that will more than likely get me into trouble with my parents, but fuck it. I’m already on the permanent Hate List with them. Besides, I didn’t work so hard to become a more confident person just to flush it down the toilet the moment I got home.





THE MURAL’S GOING to take a while and requires way more paint supplies than I have. Plus, I’m not the most fantastic painter, but I do know someone who’s an amazing artist.

I pick up my phone and call Indigo.

“Hey, I need a favor,” I say after Indigo answers my call.

She yawns. “Dude, Isa, I love you to death, but I just laid down to take a nap.”

“Sorry. I’ll make it quick.” I flop down on my unmade bed and stare up at my lame-ass, boring ceiling. “I need you to pick me up Monday after school then come over to my house and paint a mural on my wall.”

I chose Monday because Hannah will be at college orientation, at least according to the calendar downstairs. And more than likely, my mom will go with her, which means I’ll have the entire house to myself for a while.

“A mural?” Confusion laces her voice. “What are you talking about?”

Sighing, I quickly explain to her what happened to my room while I was gone. By the time I’m finished, she’s cursed about twenty times and called Lynn and Hannah some very creative names.

“Will you help me?” I ask after she stops freaking out.

“Of course I’ll help you,” she says, still sounding pissed off. “We’re so going to do something badass.”

“I have a couple of ideas actually.”

“Good. Draw them up, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Awesome. And thanks.”

“No prob,” she says then yawns again. “All right, now I have to go to sleep, or I’ll be super pissy when you see me on Monday.

Laughing, I say goodbye, but I don’t put the phone away. I have one more call to make before I do.

I punch in Grandma Stephy’s number.

“You need me to come rescue you?” she asks the moment she picks up.

“Not yet, but I do need a favor.” I chew on my thumbnail then force myself to stop, because it’s going to ruin my nail polish. “I know you said to wait a few days and sit on it, but I’m ready to talk to my dad. I can’t wait anymore. I need to know.”