The Year of Falling in Love (Sunnyvale #2) Page 13

  “I’m always right.” Isa yawns, stretching her arms above her head. The tank top she’s wearing rides up, revealing her stomach. “It’s about time you learned that.”

  I subtly check her out, but apparently, I’m being obvious because Indigo gives me a you’re-so-busted-buddy look.

  I shrug and smile, giving her my best innocent look, and she laughs.

  Isa’s arms fall to the side, and she quickly turns around to see what Indigo’s laughing at.

  “Oh, you’re awake.” She chews on her thumbnail, seeming nervous for some reason. “When I came and checked on you a half an hour ago, you were so passed out that I thought you were gonna sleep all day.”

  “The bacon woke me up.”

  God, there’s so much I want to say to her. I want to thank her a thousand times, hug her for taking care of me last night, kiss her just because. But with her grandma and cousin standing there, watching us, I feel too on the spot. I mean, I’m not shy or anything, but it’s a conversation that I kind of want to have without an audience.

  “Will you guys quit being so weird?” Isa begs her grandma and cousin. “He’s not used to your sparkling personalities.”

  “Yeah, I’m not buying that.” Her grandma throws a glance in my direction. “After some of the stuff he said last night, I’m guessing he’s just as big a weirdo as us.”

  Okay, I can handle being called weird, but what the hell did I say last night?

  “They’re cool, Isa.” I motion for her to come over to me. “Come and sit down by me. There’s some stuff I need to talk to you about.”

  “He said that a lot last night, too,” Indigo says, smirking at me. When Isa gives her a pleading look, she elevates her hands in front of her. “Fine. I’ll shut my mouth.” She wanders over to the fridge and starts digging around in it, disregarding her grandma’s lecture about staying out of stuff.

  “Hey.” Isa winds around the coffee table and stops in front of me. “Sorry if they woke you up.”

  “They’re fine. It’s their house.” When she doesn’t sit down by me, I reach for her hand and pull her toward me. “Come here. You’re too far away.”

  She’s hesitant as she sits down, leaning away from me and keeping her eyes on the floor.

  Shit. How bad did I mess up last night?

  “Okay, I just want to apologize for whatever I did or said last night.” I clear my throat. “I can’t remember much, but I’m getting the feeling I might have been an ass.”

  “You weren’t an ass.” She nudges her shoulder into mine, giving me a small smile. “And even if you were, you had a concussion, so anything you did totally didn’t count.”

  I frown, touching my head. “Fuck. I almost forgot about the concussion.” I let my hand fall to my lap. “How bad do I look right now on a scale of one to ten?”

  “I don’t know …” She bites her bottom lip, mulling it over. “I mean, you always look good. Everyone knows it. You know it.” She grows flustered. “Why are you asking me this?”

  She’s seriously so adorable right now I almost can’t stand it. It takes all of my willpower not to reach out and brush my finger across her flushed cheek.

  “Technically, I meant how bad does my face look, but it’s good to know I always look good.” I wink at her. “And that you think so.”

  “Oh, my God.” Her cheeks turn bright red as she lowers her head, letting her hair fall forward and hide her face. “I’m tired, okay? Can you just forget I said that?”

  “No way. You can’t take it back.” My mouth turns upward into a smug smile. “Once you say something like that, it’ll always be there for me to replay over and over again. And trust me; I will replay it over and over again.”

  “I’m sure you will.” She grimaces, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The movement sparks a memory of last night—me … lying on her lap … playing with her hair … telling her she’s gorgeous.

  Okay, maybe that’s why she’s acting uncomfortable.

  It seems like maybe I should feel bad for making her feel that way, but I don’t. The only thing I regret is that I wasn’t very coherent when I put my head on her lap and ran my fingers through her hair. I can’t even remember what it felt like.

  I almost reach over and sweep her hair away from her face, but out of the corner of my eye, I catch her grandma watching us like a hawk.

  “So, are you going to tell me what you were doing out in Mapleview?” Isa asks, changing the subject. “You weren’t really clear about that last night. I mean, you said a couple of things about Big Doug, but nothing specific.”

  I scratch my chin. “It’s kind of a long story.”

  “Well, we’ve got all day.” She bites back a smirk. “Because you and I are going to the city to go shopping with Indigo.”

  I arch a brow. “Oh, we are, are we?”

  She nods, grinning. “Which means we’ll have plenty of time in the car for you to tell me everything.”

  By everything, I’m pretty sure she means the thing with T, too. I hate the idea of telling everything. Knowing Isa, she’s going to want to help me, and I don’t want her getting involved. I probably shouldn’t have even called her last night. But her number was the only contact in my phone I have memorized.

  “You’re not thinking about lying to me, are you?” Isa suddenly asks, eyeing me over suspiciously. “Because you have this look on your face like you’re trying to think of some bull crap story to tell me.”

  “No … It’s not that.”

  “Good. Because I want you to trust me.”

  “I do trust you.” And I really fucking do, more than anyone.

  What Isa did for me last night—offering to pick me up then getting a doctor to come here and look at me because I was being a pain in the ass and refusing to go to the hospital—was one of the most kind, caring things someone has done for me. She’s so damn amazing, more than I think she realizes.

  “Good, because I trust you, too.” The smile that lights up her face makes me feel like an asshole.

  I think about the talk Big Doug and I had yesterday and how I still haven’t told Isa about her mom. I don’t know when the right time is or if there’s a right time. What I do know is that the longer I wait, the worse it’s going to be. It might be time to just tell her while she’s here with her grandma and cousin—a whole support system. Although, I sort of want to see what’s in the folder Big Doug gave to me. He said it might be helpful. It might be able to soften the blow.

  “Did I by chance bring a folder with me?” I ask. God, I hope I didn’t leave it in my car that doesn’t have a window. My car that I have no clue what to do with. I’m in such a mess.

  Isa nods. “Yeah, you had it in the car with you last night. I think you left it in there. Do you need to go and get it?”

  Nodding, I stand up. The room spins around me as the blood rushes from my head, and I sway sideways.

  It must scare Isa or something, because she jumps to her feet, and her fingers fold around my arm.

  “Kai, the doctor said to take it easy. You have to move slowly and don’t overexert yourself.” Taking ahold of my hand, she positions herself in front of me and looks me in the eye. “I’ll go and get your folder. You stay here and get something to eat.”

  “No, I need to get it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because …” I struggle for words, knowing once I say them, it’s going to break her. I’m going to have to be the one to break her. “Walk with me out there, okay?”

  I can tell she senses something is wrong, because she doesn’t press.

  Gripping onto her hand, I head for the door. She walks beside me as we step outside. When the cool morning air makes her shiver, I untangle my fingers from hers to take off my jacket and offer it to her.

  “Aw, look at you and your gentlemen skills,” she jokes, putting on my jacket. “If my grandma saw this, she’d probably try to marry us on the spot. She loves guys who act like a gentleman.”

  “I could live wi
th that. In fact, it might be a dream come true.” I wink at her, drape an arm around her shoulders, and guide her toward the parking lot.

  “Ha! You’re such a liar,” she says, pointing a finger at me. “That’s more like your worst nightmare.”

  “Quit being a little weirdo. You’re not worst nightmare material. That’s on the level of marrying someone like, say, Hannah.” I purposely drag my gaze up and down her body. “You’d make a pretty hot wife.”

  She rolls her eyes then looks away, either to hide a smile or a blush.

  “Speaking of Hannah.” She returns her attention to me. “What happened two summers ago? Because I’ve been dying to ask you. She looked so worried when you said that to her yesterday, so I know it has to be something bad.”

  Two summers ago … It was such a shitty summer for the most part. My dad spent a lot of time pissed off at me because I wasn’t spending enough time working out for the upcoming season, at least not as much as Kyler was.

  “I don’t get it,” he said to me. “I don’t get how one of my son’s can be so lazy, while the other one is so motivated.”

  Lazy meant working out five days instead of seven, and the only reason I wasn’t doing seven is because I got a part-time job to save up some money for a car. That didn’t matter in his eyes. In his eyes, I should’ve still been able to work out seven days and keep the job.

  Toward the end, though, when Hannah accidentally revealed a secret, things weren’t so bad, mostly because I knew the secret could become useful one day.

  I smile at the memory. “I’ll tell you.” But then my smile vanishes. “But I have to tell you something else first, something important.”

  “Is it about T?”

  I move my arm from her shoulder to hold her hand. “It’s actually something about you … or, well, your mom.”

  Her hand trembles in mine. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

  Worried what she might do when I break the news to her, I grasp her hand for dear life. “Maybe.”

  Confusion swirls in her eyes. “What do you mean maybe? Either it’s bad or it’s not.”

  She’s starting to panic, which makes me want to take it all back, tell her I was joking, that I found out nothing. I want to lie to avoid breaking her heart, but I hate lying, and I know she would hate me if she ever found out.

  “At first, it seemed bad.” I pull her closer to me. “But then Big Doug gave me another file yesterday and said it might not be as bad as he originally thought.”

  Her confusion deepens. “Wait, how long have you known about this?”

  “For two days. I was actually heading to tell you when I found you crying on the sidewalk. I wanted to tell you then, but you were so upset and I … I just didn’t want to hurt you more.”

  I’m uncertain how she’s going to take it. I’m sure some people would get angry for not telling them the second they found out. Isa doesn’t seem angry, though, just worried.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear with my free hand.

  “I don’t know.” Her bottom lip quivers. “You haven’t told me what it is yet.”

  God, I wish I weren’t the one who had to do this to her. No, I wish what Big Doug found out weren’t true. I wish she had a normal life with a great family who knew how amazing she is.

  I summon a deep breath. “Your mom’s in jail, Isa.”

  Her eyes snap wide as she instinctively jerks back, but I tighten my hold on her hand.

  “For what!” she shouts, flinching at the loudness of her voice.

  I swallow hard. “For murder charges.”

  I expect her to yell some more. Freak out. Panic. Instead, she does nothing except stand there, staring at the road. It might be even worse than yelling. At least with yelling, I know how she’s feeling. But this … I have no clue what she’s thinking.

  “I know it sounds bad,” I say when the silence becomes maddening. “But the folder Big Doug gave me … He said it might not sound as bad as it seems and that she’s getting an appeal. I don’t know all the details, but I think we should go and look at what’s in the folder.”

  She shakes her head, tears pooling in her eyes. “No wonder my dad hates me. He probably thinks I’m going to turn out like her.”

  “Don’t ever fucking say that!” I snap, instantly feeling bad for losing my cool with her. I gently pull on her arm, tugging her closer to me. It’s so unexpected she stumbles forward. I seize the opportunity to circle my arms around her and trap her against me. She’s stiff in my arms, but I don’t let her go. “Whether your mom did it or not, your dad doesn’t have any right to treat you like shit. Your mom made the mistake, not you.” I cup her chin and tilt her head up, forcing her to look at me. “And you are the most kind, caring person I’ve ever met. You’ve put up with so much crap, and yet you’re still so amazing. Don’t let this change that, okay?” My voice is firm and demanding.

  She shakily nods her head. “I just don’t know how to feel … this is … I didn’t expect this.”

  “I know. But I think we should go and look at what’s in that folder before we do anything else, okay?”

  An uneven breath slips from her lips. “Okay.”

  I relax a little. At least she’s being cooperative.

  I move back, take her hand, and hike across the grass toward the parking lot. She grasps on to me the entire way to the car, like I’m the only thing keeping her from falling.

  Still holding her hand, I maneuver the door open, and then panic immediately sets in.

  “There’s nothing in there. Are you sure I brought it with me?”

  “Yeah. I remember you took it out of the car before we left the gas station.” She unlaces her fingers from mine and nudges me aside so she can climb in the backseat. She searches the car before hopping out with a puzzled look on her face. “I know you had it. You were hugging it like a teddy bear for most of the drive.”

  “Then where’d it go?”

  “I don’t know … Maybe Indigo took it in the house.” Her voice wobbles with anxiety.

  “Let’s go find out.” I grab ahold of her hand again, hoping it might help calm her down as we head back inside the apartment.

  The moment we step foot in the door, Isa asks Indigo and her grandma if they took the folder. Both of them shake their heads.

  “I remember Kai having it in the car,” Indigo says, setting a plate of eggs and bacon down on the table. “But I’m pretty sure he never brought it in with him.”

  “Why? What was in it?” their grandma asks, pulling out a chair at the table.

  “Something important.” Panic fills Isa’s eyes as she helplessly looks at me. “You don’t think someone took it, do you?”

  “I don’t know who’d take it.” I yank my fingers through my hair. “Maybe the car was broken into and someone took it, thinking it was something else.”

  “What?” their grandma drops her fork and scowls at Indigo. “How many times have I told you to lock up my car? I have CDs and shit in there that are irreplaceable.”

  “Irreplaceable because they no longer make CDs,” Indigo retorts. “And would you chill? I do lock up the car. And I know for a fact I locked it last night.”

  “It was unlocked just barely,” Isa utters quietly. “Don’t worry, Grandma Stephy; nothing else is missing. Your CDs are still in the console.”

  “So, the only thing missing was the folder?” I ask.

  That’s weird. Like, really weird. First the envelope yesterday and now this? Why do I have an unsettling feeling it’s not a coincidence?

  Isa fidgets with the bottom of her shirt. “That’s weird, right? That someone would take that?”

  “Yeah, very weird.” What the hell was inside the folder? I need to get ahold of Big Doug and find out.

  “I think you guys are forgetting the most important part,” Indigo says, rising from her chair. “How did someone unlock the car when we’re the only ones with a set of keys?”

  Isa bites on he
r fingernails, staring off into space.

  I remove her fingers from her mouth and lace them through mine to keep her from chewing off her fingernails. “I have an idea.”

  I just hope they don’t judge me over how I know.

  Chapter 13

  Isabella

  I feel so lost as Kai leads me outside and toward the car with Grandma Stephy and Indigo trailing at our heels.

  Lost.

  It’s all I feel.

  Not angry. Not sad. Not hurt.

  Just lost.

  Nothing makes sense. And I mean, nothing: myself, my life, everything around me. I feel like I’m floating, like my body has somehow remained on the ground, and my feet are moving, but my mind has soared away to the sky where it can sit and try to process what Kai just told me. But there’s too much to process, too many questions running through my mind at once.

  My mom is in jail for murder.

  My mom is a murderer?

  My mom’s alive, but I probably won’t ever see her again.

  Lynn was right; my mom is a bad person.

  Does that make me a bad person?

  “I wish someone would explain to me what’s going on,” Grandma Stephy says when we reach her car. She puts on a pair of sunglasses and crosses her arms as she inspects the outside of the car. “Why is this folder so important?”

  Kai gives me a sidelong glance, his eyes conveying a silent question: are you going to tell her?

  I will eventually. I just need a few minutes to sort through my thoughts.

  Kai’s fingers leave mine as he circles the car. Indigo moves a few feet away to light up. I want to clutch Kai’s hand because it was making me feel a tiny drop better, but I don’t know how to go about it without getting insinuating looks from my grandma and Indigo. Plus, the clinginess might weird out Kai.

  After Kai checks around the outside of the car, he stops near the trunk. With his arms folded, he leans forward and squints at the lock. His eyes light up as he reaches forward and pops open the trunk.

  “What the hell?” Grandma Stephy walks over beside him. “How’d you do that without the key?”