The Year I Became Isabella Anders (Sunnyvale, #1)

“You can’t kick me out of my own house,” I say, grabbing the doorknob.

“I can’t, huh? How about I just text Mom and Dad and find out how they feel?” She laughs snidely when I remain silent. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. So get your shit and get out of here.”

I fight every damn urge in my body to go back and ninja kick the crap out of her.

“Oh and Isa?” Hannah says, and I grind my teeth until my jaw hurts. “Did you find the present I left for you on your bed?”

I want to ask her why she gave it to me, what her motive was, but that’d be asking for more taunting and ridicule, so I shut my eyes and suck in a huge breath of air. Don’t let her get to you. Just walk away, Isa. I yank open the door and step outside, her laughter hitting my back.

I shove all thoughts of Hannah aside as I head over to the Meyers’ to return Kai’s phone to him. As I hike up the driveway, Indigo’s texts ring through my head and nerves bubble in my stomach.

“You don’t like Kai like that,” I mutter to myself as I march up the porch stairs to the backdoor. “You’re just friends. You’re just friends.” I knock on the door, and when it swings open, Kyler stands in the doorway.

He’s wearing dark jeans and a red t-shirt that brings out the color in his eyes. His hair is all crazy, like he’s been stressed out and pulling on the roots. He looks so sexy right now that I can’t stop ogling him.

“Hey, Isa.” He places his hand on his head and flattens down the crazy hair.

Hearing him say my name makes my heart thud deafeningly inside my chest, and blood roars in my eardrums at the sight of him.

“Is Kai here?” I want to jump up and down that my voice came out steady.

“You actually just missed him.” He braces his palms on the doorframe and I try not to gawk at his flexed arm muscles. “What’d you need him for? Maybe I can help.”

My fingers tremble slightly as I stuff my hand into my jacket pocket and grab Kai’s phone. “I’m not sure how it happened, but somehow during the mass confusion that was last night, I ended up with his phone.”

He takes the phone from me, his forehead creasing. “You guys hung out last night?”

“Yeah, we went to a party one of his friends had.” And then kissed in the driveway, but he doesn’t need to know that.

He glances up from the phone and at me, his confusion deepening. “You went to one of his friends’ parties?” he asks and I nod, puzzled, because . . . well, he’s puzzled. “Isa, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I don’t think you should be hanging out with Kai’s friends. They’ll get you into trouble.”

I don’t know whether I’m touched that he’s looking out for me or annoyed that he thinks I’m too na?ve to take care of myself. “It was just one party. I don’t really hang out with them.”

“Okay, it’s just that . . .” He massages the back of his neck. “You’ve never really hung out with Kai up until recently, so I just wanted to warn you that he hasn’t been making the best choices lately.”

“Thanks for the warning.” I start back down the stairs, surprisingly relieved to be getting away from the uncomfortable conversation.

“Hey, what are you doing for the next couple of hours?” he asks before I can make my escape.

I stop on the bottom stair and turn around. “I was actually going to head home and blog for a little while. Then I probably have to find a way to get over to my grandma’s so I can crash there for the night.”

“How come you need a place to crash?” he asks, glancing over at my house.

“Hannah’s having a party, and I’m not allowed there while she has one.” I shrug, wondering if he’s going to act all offish now because I brought up Hannah.

He pats the doorframe a couple of times. “If you want to wait for me to get done baking, I can give you a ride.”

“Really?” Tap dances and fist pumps all around. “That’d actually be super great.” Face-palm. Seriously? What the hell is with all the ‘supers’ every time I’m around him?

He motions for me to come inside as he steps back into the washroom.

I jog up the stairs, squeeze by him into the house, and take a whiff of the air. “What are you baking?”

He shuts the door then moves past me and into the kitchen. “Chocolate chip cookies.” When I start to grin, he adds, “Don’t get too excited. I’ve never done this before, so I’m not sure how they’re going to turn out.” He stops in front of the island that’s covered with bowls, spoons, eggshells, and layers of flour. “Maybe you could help me out. I know how much you like sweet stuff. Every time you came over here, you always ate all the cookies.”

I’m surprised he remembers that about me.

“I don’t think I’ll be any help,” I tell him apologetically. “I like to eat them, but I suck at baking.”