The Year I Became Isabella Anders (Sunnyvale, #1)(3)

“Hey, just leave her alone,” he said when he stumbled across us at the playground.

They had me trapped on the top of the slide and were threatening to push me down it. It wouldn’t have been a big deal except there was a giant mud puddle at the bottom. Somehow, Hannah had managed to scare all the rest of the kids away, so no one was around to witness what was about to go down. Even the recess monitor was MIA.

Hannah had crossed her arms and raised her brows at Kyler. “Why’re you sticking up for her, Kyler? She’s a loser.” She stepped toward him and batted her eyelashes. “How about you just go back to playing football with your friends and leave us alone.”

Kyler glanced at me then around the empty playground. For a moment, I thought he was going to bail, but then he stepped around Hannah and her friends and offered me his hand. “Come on, Isa.”

I took his hand and he helped me to my feet. When they’d chased me up here, I’d fallen down and scraped up my knees, but I hardly felt the pain as he held my hand and guided me off the playground.

He only let go of my hand when we were a safe distance away from them. “Are you okay?”

Unable to find my voice, I nodded.

“You should try to stay away from her,” he said, looking over his shoulder at Hannah and her crew, who had targeted a new victim.

“Okay.” I managed to get one word out and was super proud of that.

He offered me a smile before heading back to the field to play football with his friends, oblivious to how much his good deed meant to me. It was the first time someone had stuck up for me. Ever. And I’ve been in love with him ever since.

I know my crush won’t ever go anywhere, but I guess I’m a glutton for punishment. Deep down, I get that I’m not really in love with Kyler, especially since sometimes he does things that make me hate him. But in love sounds so much less porn star-ish than in lust.

The playground isn’t the only time he’s done something nice for me, though. There’s so much more to my in lust crush than that.

When I was in eighth grade, he gave me a rose on Valentine’s Day.

“Hey, Isa, I have something for you,” he said as he jogged across the middle school parking lot toward me.

I paused when he said my nickname and gaped at him spastically with half a brownie in my mouth. He was a year older than I was, and I couldn’t figure out why he was talking to me. Not only was I Hannah’s loser younger sister, but I was in middle school and he was in high school.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He stuck out his hand, and his fingers were wrapped around the stem of a red rose.

I cautiously glanced from the rose to him then gulped the brownie down. “Is this a trick?”

Chuckling, he brushed his brown hair out of his eyes. “Why would I ever want to trick you, Isabella? I have no reason to.”

My insides quivered at the sound of my name leaving his lips. The last time he had any social interaction with me was when I was in the third grade and he stopped some of his friends from picking on me, including Hannah.

My gaze darted around the mostly vacant parking lot as I searched for a blonde-haired girl hiding out somewhere, laughing her ass off. “Did my sister put you up to this?”

He swiftly shook his head. “I swear to God it’s not a trick. I just wanted to do something nice.”

I still didn’t take the rose, worried the moment I accepted his gift, my sister would show herself and laugh at me. Knowing her, she’d probably have her Super Bitchy Cheer Pod People with her, who’d be ready to take pictures of my mortification.

“Isa.” He dipped his head to make eye contact with me, not because I’m super short—I’m actually above average height—but he’s like one-step-away-from-not-making-the-parking-garage-clearance tall. “I swear to you this is just one neighbor giving another neighbor a gift with no tricks attached.”

A neighborly gift? I almost frowned. But it was a completely selfish, Hannah-like reaction, so I sucked it up, took the rose, and even managed a smile. “Thanks.”

He smiled, and my heart did an Irish tap dance. “You’re welcome.” He didn’t leave right away, and it seemed like he wanted to say more. “Hey, so I have to ask you for a favor.” He paused, hesitant. “And you can totally say no, but . . . I really need to work on my free shot for tryouts next season, and since you won that contest and were pretty badass, I thought you and I could practice together. Maybe you could teach me a few pointers.”

Is Kyler seriously asking me to help him improve his basketball skills? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. On one hand, I was excited that I had an opportunity to spend time with him. On the other hand, it made me feel like he saw me as one of the guys.

“Sure,” I replied with a small smile.

“Thanks.” He looked relieved. “Wanna meet at my house tomorrow morning?”

I nodded and he threw me another smile before he turned around and headed toward the football field, located between the middle school and high school.

I stared down at the rose, wondering what the gesture meant—if it meant anything—and spent the next couple of weekends obsessing about every other gesture he did during our practices. Like when he brought me a doughnut or we spent a couple of hours after practice watching a movie. Part of me wonders if he was just being friendly, while another small part of me hoped it meant more.