The Year I Became Isabella Anders (Sunnyvale, #1)(39)

“They did?” I ask then a second later realize my mistake. But it’s too late. She’s already grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Oh, wait,” she says with a fake laugh. “That message was for me. Not you.” She stands up from the barstool with half a granola bar in her hand. “They wanted me to remind you that you’re not allowed to see Grandma Stephy, and to make sure to clean the entire house while they’re gone.” She skips out of the kitchen, intentionally bumping me into the wall as she passes by me.

I’m unsure if she’s telling the truth or not, but I’d be lying if it didn’t gut me apart. I hate that there’s a huge chance she’s not lying.

By the time I make it to my room, my eyes are watery, my chest aches with loneliness, and I’ve wolfed down most of the cupcake. I pop the tab on the soda and take a swig before setting the can down on the nightstand. Then I stare at my plain white walls that are patched up from all the tacks and nails I used to hold up my drawings and posters. Indigo has yet to make it over to paint the mural, because we haven’t really gotten a chance. I know if my parents are around when she comes over they’ll put a stop to our painting and punish me big time. If I do paint it while they’re gone, it’ll take them some time to discover what I’ve done, since they’ve gone back to never coming up to my room.

I decide to text Indigo so we can put the mural plan in motion, since my parents are on vacation for the weekend.

Me: Hey, u wanna come over and paint my wall or what?

Indigo: Sorry! Can’t today. I have a job interview.

I’m mildly bummed, but super excited for her.

Me: Where?!

Indigo: At that art gallery I told u about.

Me: Yay! I’ll keep my fingers crossed for u.

Indigo: U better. If I get this job then I can get my own place. No offense to Grandma Stephy, but I’m getting a little tired of Friday night poker at the community center. Plus, that Harry dude has been coming over a lot. I seriously can’t look either one of them in the eye when they’re together.

Me: LOL. I still can’t believe we walked in on them.

Indigo: I wish I could forget . . . the sounds . . . they still haunt my nightmares.

Me: But she seems happy with this Harry dude, right?

Indigo: She really does.

Me: Good. I want her to be happy. And fingers and toes crossed u get the job!

Indigo: Thanx! Let u know when I do. Rain check on the room painting.

Me: Yep! Might go get paint supplies today, since I don’t have anything else to do.

Other than look for my birth certificate. But I’m honestly running out of places to look. There’s only one thing I can think of to do and that’s confront my dad. But I’m not sure if he’ll even acknowledge me asking.

“When they get back from their trip, I’m going to ask my dad if I can go move in with Grandma Stephy, and then I’m going to confront him,” I tell myself with fierce determination. “But right now, I’m going to go get some paint . . . give myself a little break from this house and this room.” I pull a face at the walls as I grab some cash from my nightstand drawer from a stash I collected over the years. Most of it came from my grandpa. Every holiday and birthday, he’d give me a card with at least ten bucks in it.

“For college,” he said simply. “Or just a rainy day.”

I glance out my window at the raindrops beading the glass. “Perfect, a rainy day.” I tuck a few twenties into my back pocket then stuff the rest back in the drawer and collect my jacket from my closet.

I zip up my jacket and head out in my shorts and flip-flops. I’m going to seriously freeze my butt off, but I’ve done the walk to town in sun, rain, and snow before and lived. My outfit isn’t that fashionable or practical for cold weather. Pulling skinny jeans over my knee is like trying to stuff Indigo’s and my movie candy stash into a purse, which never, ever worked—we both have serious sweet tooth issues.

Luckily, I hit the sister jackpot, because Hannah’s nowhere in sight as I head downstairs. If she were, she’d be all over my shorts and hoodie combo.

When I reach the backdoor, I wrap my fingers around the doorknob, count to the three, and barrel outside.

Cold rain instantly soaks through my clothes as I skip down the driveway, moving awkwardly, because I can’t bend one knee. I don’t care though. Rain is awesome. And it smells so great. Seriously, if I could, I’d skip around in the rain all the time.

My hair is drenched by the time I reach the sidewalk, and the flip-flops splash water from the puddles all over the backs of my legs. It reminds me of this one time Kai and I walked home in the rain and we intentionally splashed in all the puddles.

“Isa! What are you doing?!” Someone shouts with a hint of laughter in their voice.

My head whips to the side as I stumble to a stop.

Kai is standing out on the side deck, beneath the shelter of the roof, and I think he might be laughing at me, but the veil of rain crashing from the cloudy sky makes it difficult to see.

“Going to the paint store!” I shout then wave at him and start to skip off again.

“Are you crazy?” he calls out. “You can’t walk to town in the middle of a rainstorm.”

I sigh and slow down again. “I’m not walking! I’m skipping!” My eyelashes flutter against the rain.