The Year I Became Isabella Anders (Sunnyvale, #1)(44)

“If you drink?” Kai questions with amusement. “You’re a virgin drinker, aren’t you?”

“Oh, please. You think I spent three months overseas and didn’t touch a drink?” I scoff with a roll of my eyes. “I’ve drank a ton.”

His lips twitch as he wrestles back a laugh. “Okay, I believe you. But just a warning, I’d stay away from any baked goods if I were you.”

“Warning noted.”

I can’t believe I’m doing this. Going to a party where I might run into people I know and that Kai is going to introduce me to. This will be so much different, and I’ll be way more out of my element, than when I was dancing in clubs and kissing guys I barely knew.

Before Kai and I leave, I go over to my house to change my clothes.

“You can just wait on the sofa, if you want to,” I tell him when Kai tags along with me as I head upstairs to my room.

“Nah, I’ll just wait outside your bedroom door for you.”

“You’re such a weirdo.”

“That’s why we get along so well,” he replies, grinning.

Smiling, I dash up the stairs and to my room. After I get the door shut, I head for the closet to pick out an outfit. As I pass by my bed, though, something catches my attention and makes me grind to a halt.

A piece of paper is on the mattress.

I pick it up and my heart slams against my chest. “Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!”

Kai bursts into, wide-eyed and panicked. “What happened?”

“I don’t . . .” My hands and legs are shaking about as badly as my voice. I sink to the mattress, struggling to catch my breath. “It’s nothing. I just found my birth certificate. That’s all.” When a pucker forms at his brow, I add, “I’ve been trying to find it for a week or so.”

“Okay. I get where all the crazy was coming from now.” A beat or two goes by as he glances from me to the paper in my hand then shifts his weight and cracks his knuckles.

“You read my post, didn’t you?” I can read the truth all over his face and by how twitchy he’s acting. “Why didn’t you say anything when we were in your kitchen?” I ask, pushing to my feet. “You said you hadn’t read it in like four or five days.”

“That was a guesstimate.” He seems like he feels guilty. “And I was just saying what I felt like you wanted me to say. It didn’t seem like you wanted me to know.”

“I didn’t. Not yet anyway.” Looking down at my birth certificate, my excitement bubble pops, because where the mother’s name is supposed to be is blank. But my father’s is there in dark ink, a reminder that yes, he may hate me, but I am his flesh and blood.

“So, does it say it?” Kai asks tentatively, leaning over to get a look at the certificate.

I lift my gaze to him. “Say what?”

“Who your mother is. That’s why you were so excited to find it, right? Because you want to know who she is.”

I really, really wish I would’ve gone with my gut instinct and deleted that post. “Kai, you can’t tell anyone about this, okay? My dad, he doesn’t know I’m looking for her, and he got really upset when my grandma asked him about my mom.”

“Does Lynn or Hannah know you’re looking for her?” His voice conveys worry.

“I don’t know.” I glance down at the certificate again, and my good mood deflates even more. “Someone had to, though, for this to be sitting on my bed when I walked in.” I bite on my lip as I mull it over. “The only person here right now is Hannah.”

“You think Hannah put it on your bed?” Kai looks unconvinced.

“Maybe she read my blog,” I say, even though the idea is pretty ludicrous.

“I hate to say this, because it might hurt you, but even if she did read your blog, why would Hannah try to help you?”

“Nothing you can say about Hannah is going to hurt me, Kai. I’ve pretty much developed an immunity to her.”

Kai presses his lips together as he stares at me with insinuation in his eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask. “I’m being serious. Hannah doesn’t bother me anymore.”

“Okay . . . but I’ve been wondering if maybe your new hot girl look thingy may have had something to do with what I said to you before I left.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets, tense as a tightly wound rope. “That this was your way of trying to get her to stop being mean to you all the time.”

“That’s not what that was about.” My tone comes out more clipped than I want it to, and I clear my throat. “My change was about me. I don’t—didn’t even know who I was. And I wanted to figure that out.”

“You’re still kind of confused, it seems like,” he accuses, carrying my gaze.

“Maybe a little.” Maybe a lot. With each passing day, I feel more lost as the possibility of finding my mom grows dimmer.

What if this is it for me? This lonely room with bare walls and a family who loathes me? The idea is so depressing, so dream squashing. No, I won’t go there.

“You know it’s okay, right?” Kai says, scuffing the tip of his boot against the carpet as he stares down at the floor. “To be confused over who you are.”