The Year I Became Isabella Ande - Jessica Sorensen Page 0,65
the stars, so I pinch his arm to get him to look at me. “Ow.” He chuckles, meeting my gaze as he laughs. “What was that for?”
“I just want to know that you’re not going to get into trouble for that,” I say, putting my hands on my hips.
“Why would I get in trouble? Big Doug’s the one doing all the work.” He reaches forward and slips his fingers through mine, moving my hand away from my hip. “Now let’s go inside and celebrate.”
“Celebrate what?” I stare at our interlaced hands, confused over why he keeps touching me and why I feel comfortable with it.
“That in a week, you’ll know who your mom is.” He pulls me toward the door.
I let him steer me back inside, crossing my fingers that he’s right and that Big Doug will be able to find my mom.
But what I really hope is that she’ll be alive when I do find her.
TWO SHOTS AND a beer later, I’m headed outside to wait for Indigo to come pick mine and Kai’s sorry drunk asses up.
“You feeling better about going to school now?” Kai asks me as we reach the curb.
He spent the last three hours introducing me to everyone. While I don’t have anyone I’d call my best friend, I do feel better about going to school. And no one brought up the mental institution thing, so I’m guessing they’ve all forgotten about that rumor.
“Yeah, thanks for introducing me to so many people,” I say through a yawn.
“I feel bad I didn’t do it sooner,” he says.
“I don’t blame you. It’s not like I’m the kind of person everyone wants to get to know. I’m too weird, and hardly anyone gets me.”
“Isa, you’re ridiculously freakin’ awesome. Everyone who gets to know you is lucky.”
“You’re sweet when you’re drunk,” I tease with a nudge of my elbow.
“I’m always sweet when I’m around you, baby.” He giggles.
I giggle too. “You’re a cheesy drunk.” I yawn again and lean against Kai, my eyelids feeling heavy. “I shouldn’t have drank so much.”
“Just focus on that firefly over there.” He points across the street at a glowing light. “It makes it easier to keep your eyes open.”
I giggle again. “Kai, that’s not a firefly. That’s a porch light.”
He leans all of his weight against me, nearly making me topple to the ground. “Hold me up, or I’m going to fall.”
“You’re a guy,” I whine, digging my feet into the ground to support his weight. “You’re supposed to hold me up.”
“That’s very sexist of you, Isa.” He tsks, waving his finger at me. “I’m so disappointed.”
I shake my head, but a smile tickles at my lips. “Jesus, you’re a handful.”
“I know.” He sighs tiredly. “If only I were like Kyler, then life would be so much easier for me and everyone around me.”
My muscles ravel into knots as I stiffen, sensing a drunken talk coming. You know the kind, where you yammer and pour your heart out with someone then when you sober up you have an oh-God-what-have-I-done moment.
“Kai, you’re a good guy, no matter what you think.”
“Yeah, tell that to my parents. Or my grandparents. Everyone in the entire Meyers family.”
“Parents can suck, but that doesn’t mean you have to believe everything they try to stick in your head. You’re free to think whatever you want about yourself. Trust me.”
“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew everything I did. I’m not a good person. I’ve done so much fucked up stuff.”
“Everyone’s done fucked up stuff,” I say, shutting my eyes. I wonder what he’s done. Why he thinks he’s so bad. “It doesn’t make you a bad person. You just need to forgive yourself.”
“Easier said than done.” He yawns, sinking to the ground and clumsily pulling me with him.
I trip over his feet and his fingers delve into my skin as he tries to stop me from falling. But we end up going down hard and landing in the grass in a tangle of legs and arms.
“Kai, you’re the clumsiest drunk ever!” I laugh, trying to push him off me.
“Don’t lie. I’m the funniest drunk ever.” He laughs . . . well, more like drunkenly giggles, as he rolls off me and onto his back. “And you’re the cutest drunk ever.”
“I so am not.” I lie down with him so our heads, arms, and legs are touching. I look up at the stars twinkling in the sky, like handfuls of magic pixie dust. “And you wouldn’t be saying that if