The Year I Became Isabella Ande - Jessica Sorensen Page 0,52
people were embarrassed to be seen with me. “Which I totally get. I know I’m not even close to being popular or anything, and everyone keeps staring at me like I’m some fungus that crawled out of a swamp.”
A strange look crosses his face that I can’t decipher. “You think they’re staring at you, because they think you’re a fungus that crawled out of a swamp?”
“I don’t know,” I say, puzzled over the odd look he’s giving me. “I mean, they probably don’t literally think I’m fungus, but they definitely stare at me like I am.”
“That’s not why they’re staring at you. I promise.”
“I don’t really care why they’re gawking. I just want them to stop. It makes me feel self-conscious, and I’ve had way too much of that in my life. That’s what I loved about being overseas. No one knew me, so I never had to worry about people making fun of me.”
“No one’s making fun of you,” he says earnestly. “But I’ll see what I can do with the staring.”
“What? Are you going to ask the entire school to stop looking at me?” I ask jokingly, expecting him to laugh.
“I could do that, but I think I’ll try something else first,” he says with a devious smile as he wiggles his brows at me.
“Don’t do anything that’ll make it worse,” I beg, clasping my hands together. “Please, promise me you won’t, Kai.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die. Stick a needle in Hannah’s eye,” he says then kisses the tip of my ear before letting me go.
I jolt from the weird kiss move, which only makes him laugh.
“Well, at least you think you’re funny,” I tease him.
“I know you think I’m funny too.” He picks up his half eaten apple then flashes me his pearly whites. “It’s why you’re always laughing when you’re around me.”
I open my mouth to tease him, to tell him he’s never funny, that I never, ever laugh at him, and that he should stop telling jokes all the time, but Kyler walks into the kitchen.
He’s wearing loose fitting basketball shorts and a tank top, and his hair is damp, like he just got out of the shower.
The only time I’ve seen him since I got back from my trip was when he was arguing with Hannah down in the driveway. Being this close to him puts my love/lust meter into confusion mode. I spent three months irritated with him, because I thought he was dating Hannah, and I thought I’d gotten over my crush on him. But then, the other day, I found out he was never really dating her, and now it’s left me feeling more confused than ever.
Do I like him still?
Kinda, sorta, yeah.
“Hey, have you seen my gym bag?” Kyler asks Kai as he heads for the fridge. But when he catches sight of me, he freezes, his brows pulling together. “Hey . . .”
“Hey.” I wince at the breathiness of my voice.
Get your shit together. Don’t be nervous. You’re not like that anymore. You kissed Nyle on the London Eye for Christ’s sake. And you’re not even sure how you feel about him anymore.
Kyler seems to find my spasticness more amusing than repulsive, and smiles at me. I’m convinced he doesn’t recognize me, because he’s never smiled at me like that before, not even when he gave me the rose or hung out with me while we played basketball.
The rose. The pity gift.
I frown, remembering what Hannah told me. Was there any truth to her words?
“Isa, why do you look like you just ate something sour?” Kai asks, yanking me back to reality.
“Because I did eat something sour,” I lie.
Kai rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
“You look different, Isa,” Kyler says, studying me from head to toe.
Well, at least he seems to know who I am.
“Um, thanks,” I reply, unsure if different is a compliment or not.
“I don’t mean that in a bad way,” Kyler quickly explains. “I just meant that you look different. Good different, I promise.”
He smiles at me, a smile that reaches his eyes. I can’t help but smile back and probably look as goofy as Goofy himself.
“Thanks,” I tell him with more confidence.
His lips part, but Kai cuts him off.
“Your gym bag’s in the car,” he says coldly. “You left it there after practice, and Mom blamed it on me. I have no fucking clue why it’s my responsibility to take care of your shit.”
“She probably thought it was your bag,” Kyler tells him, ripping his