The Year I Became Isabella Ande - Jessica Sorensen Page 0,43
wasn’t sure if this bad boy thing of yours was going to be a phase.”
He looks up at me, his expression dead serious. “Is this hot girl thing of yours a phase?”
“It’s not a hot girl phase,” I promise him, although my tone’s a little shaky. “And no, it’s not a phase. But I do need to figure out some stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“I don’t know. Just stuff.”
He stares at me just long enough to make me uneasy then drops the gaze to the bracelet as he ties it to his wrist. “I like it.”
“You don’t have to like it.” But I kind of want him to. “Although, it was way better than the painting my cousin tried to talk me into getting you. You don’t seem like a painting kind of guy.”
He flicks the bracelet on his wrist. “This is way, way better than a painting.” He smiles at me, a genuine smile. “But you know what this means, right? You liiiike me.”
Biting back a smile, I shake my head. “It so does not.”
“Does too.”
“Oh, fine. Whatever.”
“Ha! I won that round.”
“Only because I let you.”
He’s grinning from ear to ear. “I like this.” He points back and forth between the two of us. “We should do this more often.”
“Do what more often?” I ask.
Before he can respond, Braden, one of his stoner friends, strolls up to Kai.
“Hey, did you bring that thing we were talking about the other night at that party?” he asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
Kai glances at me, and Braden tracks his gaze. He blinks, either stunned or high—it’s hard to tell for sure, because his eyes are really, really bloodshot.
“Hey,” he says, blinking again as he checks me out, “I know you, right?”
I shake my head, trying not to squirm from his attentive gaze. “Probably not.”
Kai rubs the back of his neck and tensely glances around the hallway. I know what’s coming. Like the time he was caught walking home with me, he’s going to make some lame-ass excuse of why he’s here with me.
“I’ll see you later,” I say, deciding to let him off the hook.
Before anyone can say anything else, I turn around and walk back toward the stairway. As I make my way downstairs, I notice that fewer people are looking in my direction, but some still stare. I ignore the gawking the best I can, but by the time I make it to my locker, I feel sick to my stomach. I have no idea how I’m going through with my plan of making some real friends, when I can barely handle people staring.
Give it time. You’ll get used to it.
That’s what I try to tell myself through my morning classes and during lunch, when I sit at the same corner table by myself, like I did the previous three years. I get desperate enough that I try to spot Kai at one of the tables, but he must leave campus for lunch, because I don’t see him anywhere. I end up eating lunch while texting Indigo, so I won’t have to deal with the staring plague that seems to have taken over my school.
I’m not positive what’s causing the gawking. I haven’t heard any gossip that includes my name and my mental stability, so I don’t think the rumor is causing people to act crazy. Still, the thought hovers there in the back of my mind. What if they all think I’m insane? Do I care? I don’t want to, and the Isa who was overseas wouldn’t, but being back at home, where everyone knows the real me, I kind of do.
By the time the final bell rings, I’ve made a total of zero friends, and strangely, the handful of people I did talk to during my junior year won’t even look me in the eye.
Frustrated, I hurry out of the school, pushing my way through the mob of people on the sidewalk. As I reach the parking lot, my phone buzzes from inside my pocket, so I dig it out.
Indigo: Dude, I forgot how lame high school is.
Me: What r u talking about? You’re at school? What school?
Indigo: I’m talking about the lameness of your high school and all high schools in general.
Me: R u here?
Indigo: Duh. How could I not come pick u up after all those depressing texts u sent me?
My gaze lifts to the parking lot and I spot her, sitting on the trunk of my grandma’s car, with her hair pulled up in