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

He shuts the trunk of the car, steps back, and tracks my gaze to the window. “Maybe you should just wave goodbye. Might be easier, since she’s so upset.”


“But why is she even upset with me? I didn’t really do anything but argue with Hannah.”

“That’s not what this is about.” He struggles for words and to look at me, but finally, he manages to do both. “It’s just hard for her sometimes, but I think this trip might help . . . ease some of the tension.” He pats my arm, causing me to jump, and he jerks back. “Sorry.” He massages the back of his neck, squirming. “I’m just going to go tell her we’re leaving then we’ll hit the road. We can even get some ice cream on our way out, if you want.”

Normally, I’d be all over the offer to stop for sugar, but even cookie dough ice cream can’t melt the fact that my own mother doesn’t want to say bye to me.

I slump against the back of the SUV. “Okay. Sure.”

He hesitates, his lips parting like he’s about to say something. But then he decides against it, rushes up the driveway, and hurries inside the house.

A few seconds later, my sister pulls up in her shiny silver Mercedes. She honks her horn, scaring the living daylights out of me before she turns off the engine and climbs out.

“A little jumpy, aren’t ya?” she sneers as she bumps the door shut with her hip. “I guess I’d be, too, though, if I was getting kicked out of the house.”

“I’m not getting kicked out of the house,” I say. “I’m just going to visit Grandma.”

“Keep telling yourself that, but I seriously wouldn’t be surprised if I never saw your pasty face again.” She slings the handle of her purse over her shoulder and starts up the driveway, but pauses and shoots me a smirk. “Oh! I completely forgot to tell you the fabulous news.”

She may think she’s perfect, but she’s not, I try to convince myself. See the lipstick on her teeth? It looks like she fed on someone’s blood. Plus, her hair looks kind of frizzy today, like she stuck her finger in a socket.

I shake my head at myself. Who am I kidding? She’s perfect. Albeit evil, but still, that doesn’t seem to count for much with the people I go to school with.

“Kyler and I are officially a couple.” She flips her hair off her shoulder, her smirk growing.

“Huh?” I blink at her. What the hell did she just say?

“Kyler and I are a couple.” She enunciates each word. “You know, our next door neighbor, who you’ve been in love with since forever.”

My jaw nearly smacks the concrete. “I-I’m not in love with K-Kyler.”

“Oh, please. Everyone knows you’ve been in love with him since he gave you that stupid rose, which, FYI, was a pity gift.”

I want to tell her she’s wrong. That I was in love—in lust—with Kyler before that, but that would only confirm her accusation that I’m in love with her new boyfriend.

Oh, my God.

Reality slaps me hard across the face, and my stomach twists. It’s not like Kyler hasn’t dated anyone before. He’s had a few steady girlfriends over the last couple of years, and I’ve always handled that pretty well. But dating Hannah? God, I knew it might be coming, but deep down I think I was in denial, na?vely believing that Kyler would never date a person who is so ugly on the inside.

“He told everyone the next day he gave you the rose because he felt sorry for you.” She covers her mouth when my expression sinks. “Oh, my God, you didn’t know that? That’s so sad.” She lowers her hand. “And tragic. I can’t believe you’d ever think he’d love someone like you.” Her face twists with disgust. “That godawful hair. Seriously, who puts green in their hair? And those clothes,” she shudders, “so gross.”

“I’m not in love with Kyler,” I argue, breathing in and out, trying to fight back the waterworks. “So, none of what you’re saying matters.”

Let her words roll right off you. She’s not a good person.

“You’re such a bad liar. Always have been.” She turns her back on me and strolls toward the door, her four-inch heels clicking against the sidewalk. “And for the record, Kyler’s an amazing kisser.” She giggles to herself before going inside and shutting the door.

I ball my hands into fists. “One of these days, I swear to God I’m going to . . .” I trail off as I feel someone watching me.

I glance over at the Meyers’ house then internally cringe. Kai is sitting on the back porch, staring at me. He’s wearing a pair of black board shorts, his hair looks damp, and those intense eyes of his are practically boring a hole into my head.

Shit. Did he just hear all of mine and Hannah’s conversation? Fuck it. Does it really matter? I’m sure Hannah’s already pretty much told Kyler I’m obsessed with him.

“You’re going to what?” Kai ask with his head cocked.