The Year I Became Isabella Anders (Sunnyvale, #1)(5)

My attention wanders to Kyler as he rounds the fence, but my smile plummets when I notice him checking out Hannah. It’s his one fault and something I don’t get. Yeah, I know she’s beautiful, curvy, has long blonde hair, and dresses like a girl, but back in grade school, he seemed disgusted with her. Sometimes he still does, like the time she tripped Jane Tribloton at a pep rally in front of the entire school. Kyler went and helped Jane up, and then I caught him chewing out Hannah in the hallway later on in the day. Those moments remind me of the Kyler I first fell for. But then there’s this other side, the one cracked out on guy hormones.

I frown as Kyler continues to check out Hannah. God, she’d swoon herself to death if she knew he was drooling over her ass like he is. She’s been trying to get him to ask her out for the last month, ever since her breakup with The Brad—a nickname he gave himself. While Kyler and Hannah aren’t officially a couple, they spend a lot of time together. If they do start dating, I’ll have to gouge my eyes out so I don’t have to witness them making out. Of course, if he actually starts dating my sister, I just might be able to finally get over this silly little crush I have on him.

“Isa, are you okay?” Kyler shouts as he bounces a basketball in his driveway while looking in the direction of my balcony.

I shrug. “Yeah. Sure.”

“She’s always so hard on you,” he says, jumping to make a shot. As he moves, his grey t-shirt rides up just enough to give me a sneak peek at those superhero abs I know he has hiding under there.

“Who, my sister?” I ask distractedly as I discreetly check him out.

Stop staring at him, for the love of God.

The ball swishes through the net, and he turns back to me, smiling adorably. “Yeah. I mean, I like her and everything, but she’s nice to me. With you, she always seems so . . .” He seems to be searching for the right word.

“Bitchy. Vile. Or how about plotting-my-death-off-the-rocker-Norman-Bates kind of crazy,” I offer, resting my arms on the railing.

“Well, I was going to say intense, but those work too.” He’s trying really hard not to smile.

“Can I ask you a question?” I dare ask, despite the inner voice screaming at me to keep my trap shut.

“Sure.” He offers me an easygoing grin.

“Why do you like her? I mean, she’s so mean . . . and you’re so . . .” I stop myself from saying nice, because I’m uncertain how he’ll react.

“I don’t know. I just . . .” He glances at the door to my house then rubs the back of his neck, looking really uncomfortable. “Isa, I don’t really feel comfortable talking to you about this.”

Give me a crown, people, because I just took the title for Most Super Awkward Girl Ever.

Thankfully, the side door of his two-story house swings open and out walks Kai, Kyler’s younger brother, who’s a junior in high school like me.

He’s not wearing a shirt—he usually isn’t—his boxers are sticking out of his black cargo shorts, and his light blond hair is smashed on one side, as if he just woke up. The whole sleepyhead, rebellious look he’s rocking is a recent change, as well as the people he’s started hanging out with, the stoner kids—labeled as such for wearing dark clothing, eating a lot of junk food, and their overall don’t-give-a-shit attitude. At least, that’s what everyone calls them, although I have yet to see any of them smoking pot. If that were the case, then I’d be a pothead, since the description fits me, too.

“Hey, what’s up?” Kai gives a chin nod to Kyler as he closes the door behind him.

“Not much,” Kyler says to his brother as he picks up the basketball. “I’m thinking about heading to a party.”

“Which one?” Kai asks, stuffing a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

He shrugs, dribbling the ball against the concrete driveway. “I think one of Hannah’s friends is having one.”

He chokes on a laugh and spits out a mouthful of cereal. “Sounds like tons of fucking fun.” Sarcasm drips from his tone.

“It won’t be that bad.” Kyler lifts his arms up to shoot another basket.

“It’ll be a bunch of dumbass cheerleaders and jocks,” Kai says, setting his bowl down on the porch railing.

“I don’t know what your problem is.” Kyler walks backward toward the grass to collect the ball. “You used to be one of those,” he makes air quotes, “ ‘dumbass jocks’, too, before you decided you were too good for everyone.”

“That’s not what quitting the team was about,” Kai replies in a clipped tone. “So stop talking about shit you know nothing about.”

“Then what was it about?” Kyler challenges as he scoops up the ball and tucks it under his arm.

Kai shrugs, picking up his bowl, looking pissed off. “Who cares?”

“Whatever, man.” Kyler’s gaze bores into Kai, like he expects him to cave. “You know everyone thinks you’re into drugs now.”

Kai lifts his shoulders and shrugs again. “That’s their problem. Not mine.”

“I’m starting to wonder if they’re right.”

Kyler sounds more aggravated than I’ve ever heard him. And trust me, I’ve eavesdropped on his conversations a lot, so I would know.