The Year I Became Isabella Ande (Sunnyvale #1) - Jessica Sorensen Page 0,31

of nicknames for Hannah.

“Don’t worry, Isa; I got your back.” She drapes an arm around my shoulder. “Hannah can’t do anything to you. Grandma Stephy and I won’t let her.”

I force a smile, grateful for her trying to protect me. But after eighteen years of being tormented by Hannah, I don’t really think it’s going to be that easy.

Chapter 9

“Oh. My. God,” Indigo groans as she stuffs her face with a double cheeseburger. “I missed you, my dear, sweet hamburger, even though you treat me poorly and go straight to my thighs.”

I giggle in the backseat of Grandma Stephy’s car then pop a fry into my mouth.

“The food wasn’t that bad over there,” I say.

She narrows her eyes at me with a drizzle of grease dripping down her chin. “Dude, are you fucking crazy? It was terrible. Everything was either burnt or topped with some weird sauce.” She sets the burger down on her lap and dunks a fry into a cup of ranch. “Good God, I’ve missed ranch on my fries. I’m seriously about to have a foodgasm.”

“No foodgasms in the car,” Grandma Stephy says as she turns the car off the main road.

I set the fry that I was about to eat down as I suddenly lose my appetite. We’re getting closer to my house.

We’ve been back in Sunnyvale for a couple of nights now, but this will be the first time I’ve been home in three months. And it’ll be the first time I’ve seen my family since I discovered the secret about my mother.

Time to get some answers.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me for a little bit longer?” Grandma Stephy asks for the millionth time.

“I wish I could,” I say truthfully. “But my senior year starts in a couple of days, and I need to get stuff ready.” I just hope Hannah will leave me alone, that the texts will stop, that she’ll give up on tormenting me.

I almost laugh at my own naive thoughts. Yeah, I really doubt that’s going to happen.

“What stuff?” Indigo stares at me while she chews on a huge mouthful of hamburger. “We already have your wardrobe fully taken care of. You’re seriously going to look edgy hot.”

I smile. She’s been calling my style edgy hot ever since London when I started wearing boots and leather jackets with dresses and knee-high socks.

“I’m not talking about needing to get clothes. I’m talking about getting supplies and stuff. You know, pencils and notebooks and books. I also need to get started on my blog again. I haven’t done anything with it all summer, and I want to get it going again.” I tuck a few strands of my long, brown hair with reddish highlights behind my ear. “I actually think I’m going to blog about our trip.”

“Good. It was an awesome trip full of tell-all adventures.” She grins at me, and I smile back. “Although, not all of them are tell-all.” She points a finger at me, warning me to keep my mouth shut about some of the more interesting stuff we did on our little trip, like our skinny-dipping adventure in the pool.

I draw my fingers over my lips, silently telling her I’ll keep my trap shut.

“What are you two girls yammering about?” Grandma Stephy asks as she makes a right into my neighborhood.

“Nothing,” Indigo and I say at the same time.

Grandma Stephy shakes her head. “Fine. Keep your secrets. Just know that I have mine, too.”

“Oh, we know you do,” Indigo says then moans through a giggle. “Oh, Harry.”

Grandma Stephy’s eyes widen. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You don’t know?” Indigo questions with doubt.

Grandma Stephy rolls her eyes. “How on earth would I know what the hell you’re giggling about? You two think everything’s funny.”

“Only things that are funny,” Indigo says through choked laughter. “I know this might be past your time, but the customary rule for having roommates is to leave a tie on the door when you’re hooking up. That way, someone doesn’t accidentally walk in on something they don’t want to see.”

The two of them start bantering while I sit back in the seat and watch the homes as we pass them.

I’ve never been a fan of where I live, and after traveling and seeing so many historical places, Gothic buildings, and even an underground tunnel filled with bones, I kind of hate the homes built to show off the upper-class.

The hatred I feel for the houses dissipates the moment we pull up