The Year I Became Isabella Ande - Jessica Sorensen Page 0,44
a bun, smoking a cigarette. I run to her. I don’t even care how crazy I look at the moment. I’m just so damn glad she’s here.
She hops off the trunk, and I hug the bejesus out of her. “So, I’m guessing by the crazy hugging that your first day totally sucked?” she says as she hugs me back.
“It was awful,” I tell her. “Everyone kept staring, and even my old friends wouldn’t talk to me. The only person who said anything to me at all was Kai, and that’s because he wanted his present.”
“Aw, Kai.” The tone of her voice implies something. “He wouldn’t happen to be around, would he?”
I move back and eye her over suspiciously. “Why?”
She shrugs, dropping her cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with the tip of her boot. “I’m just curious. I mean, other than Kyler, he’s the only person from Sunnyvale I’ve heard you mention. And you’re in love with Kyler, so it makes sense why you talked about him, but with Kai,” she bobs her head back and forth, wavering, “I want to find out why he’s always so stuck in your head.”
“He’s not stuck in my head. I talk about him, because he’s, like, one of the few people who’s ever talked to me at school, and that was only on rare occasions.” I frown as she stubbornly keeps looking at all the people walking by us. “And I have no idea where he is. I haven’t seen him since this morning.” I head for the passenger side of the car. “Please tell me you’re taking me for ice cream, because I’m in desperate need of some sugar.”
Her back stiffens. “We actually need to go straight to Grandma’s.”
I grasp the door handle. “Why? Is everything okay?”
She won’t look me in the eye, which is completely out of character for her. “Something happened between her and your dad. They got in a fight and . . .”
“And what?” I press.
She sighs, meeting my gaze. “And she got a name out of him.”
“She did. Yes!” I fist pump the air then hop into the car, bubbling with excitement. Holy shit, she has a name. A freaking name. I’m so excited I can’t sit still.
Indigo climbs into the car and turns on the engine. “Isa, I don’t want you to get too excited. Grandma may have gotten a name, but your dad wouldn’t tell her anything else. And he’s super pissed. Like, really, really angry.” She backs out of the parking space. “He even broke a vase.”
“That doesn’t matter.” All that matters is I’m about to learn my mother’s name. I can do a lot with a name. I can even track her down if I want to, without my dad’s help, which I plan on doing.
Because like I promised myself in Paris, I’m going to find her, no matter what it takes.
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Indigo is parking the car in front of Grandma Stephy’s apartment. I have so much pent up energy inside me that I jump out of the car before it comes to a complete stop. I’ve done the ninja move before, but never in four-inch platforms, and I end up rolling my ankle and eating asphalt as I fall to the ground.
“For the love of God.” I clumsily push to my feet and look at the damage. My knee is bleeding and pebbles are stuck in the open cut. I think a piece of glass might be in there too. I almost throw up. I’m cool with seeing blood and gore on television, but it’s a whole different story when the blood’s gushing out of me. But determined to make it inside, I force the vomit back and pluck out the glass.
“Oh, my God . . .” Oxygen is ripped from my lungs as more blood trickles out of the wound.
“Jesus, Isa, are you okay?” Indigo rushes around the front of the car toward me.
“I’m totally fine.” I can do this. Be tough. I take off, limping up the sidewalk toward my grandma’s place.
“Isa, would you please slow down?” Indigo’s sandals scuff against the ground as she jogs to catch up with me. “You’re leaving a trail of blood all over the ground, for God’s sake.”
I look down and, sure enough, blood is dripping out of the cut, down my leg, and onto the concrete. I gag, but fuse my lips together.
“Holy shit, I think you might need stitches,” Indigo remarks as she bends over and squints at