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.
“Yeah, maybe.” His forehead creases as he pulls open the door. “Are you driving with him? Or are you meeting him there?”
“He said I could ride with him . . . why?”
The Year I Became Isabella Anders (Sunnyvale, #1)
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