The Year I Became Isabella Anders

by Jessica Sorensen

  I realize my fingers are shaking--that my entire body is shaking. "My dad never said why he took me in?" I whisper. "Why he changed his mind? Or why my mom needed to give me away?"

  She shakes her head sadly. "I'm sorry, honey, but he never talks about it at all. The only time it's ever been brought up is over the phone the few weeks before they dropped you off with me, and that's because I forced the subject on him. I was tired of the way they treated you, and wanted to get some goddamn answers over what the hell happened fourteen years ago between your mother and him."

  My mind swirls with confusion. "Wait . . . fourteen years . . ."

  Her hold tightens on my hand, like she's afraid I'm going to run. "You lived with your mother for a few years before you went to go live with your dad."

  I press my quivering lips together as tears burn in my eyes. "Why can't I remember any of this?"

  "Honey, you were barely three when all this happened." Her voice is gentle, but her hold on my hand is firm as tears slide down my cheeks. "I know this is hard to take in, but--"

  Before she can finish that thought, I yank my hands out of hers and run to the bathroom. "I think I'm going to be sick," I say, then slam the door shut and lock it.

  After I throw up the wine I drank earlier, I sink to the tiled floor in front of my bag. I dig out my sketchpad and open it up to one of my favorite comics I drew, starring me and the woman I always wished was my mom. Maybe she wasn't just a wish, though. Maybe she was a faint memory I was trying to hold onto in dark times.

  I touch the dark lines I meticulously drew. "Who are you?" I whisper.

  Silence is my only answer, and it hurts almost as badly as my heart.

  Curling up into a ball, I hug the sketchbook to my chest. Indigo wanted me to spend the summer discovering myself, but how the hell am I supposed to do that when I have no idea where I came from?

  After bawling my eyes out for what feels like hours, I finally pull myself off the floor and drag my ass out of the bathroom. The lights are still on, but Indigo is passed out in one of the beds, still wearing her dress, snoring away.

  My eyes are so swollen I can barely see anything, but I stand with confidence. I have to in order to hide the nerves sloshing around inside me. "When I get back, I want to find her," I tell Grandma Stephy.

  She quickly aims the remote at the television, shuts off the show she was watching, and rubs the sleepiness from her eyes. "Honey, I'm not sure that's a good idea."

  "I don't care if it's a good idea or not." I sit down on the edge of the bed, still holding onto my sketchbook. "It's what I want--need--to do. All my life, I felt like I was crazy, because I never, ever fit in with my family. And now I learn the reason why . . . and I want to know who she is, if she's like me. Maybe she can understand me." Maybe she'll love me.

  Grandma Stephy ruffles her hair into place as she sits up in the bed and lowers her feet to the floor. "Isa, I know it's been hard living in that house, but I worry what'll happen to you if this doesn't turn out the way you want it to."

  "But I don't even know how I want it to turn out," I point out. "I mostly just feel . . . lost right now."

  She scoots toward me. "I hate to be blunt, but I feel like I have to." She blows out a deafening breath. "But there was a reason your mother chose to give you to your father. Whether it's because she couldn't take care of you, or . . ." She shakes her head. "I just want you to make sure you think about all the scenarios, how this could turn out before you dive into this."

  I get where she's coming from. I can think of a ton of reasons off the top of my head of how this could end up going down. From my real mother being just as mean as Cruella de Lynn, to her being dead.

  God, what if she is dead? What if I never get to know her? What if I continue to drift through life feeling so out of place?

  I have to know. Have to understand. Where I came from. What makes me tick. What makes me so strange. What makes me . . . well, me. And even though I know it might hurt more than anything else, I have to know why she gave me up.

  "If I do that--If I spend the next few months thinking about how this is going to turn out--and I still want to find her when I get back, will you help me?" I ask.

  She's silent for a maddening amount of time, and I end up chanting one of my songs to keep from shouting at her.

  Chocolate fudge. Caramel. Cinnamon rolls. I wonder if my mom bakes . . .

  "If that's what you decide you want to do, then yes; I'll help you," she finally agrees, but she doesn't sound happy about it.

  "Thank you, Grandma." I feel even more nervous for some reason, now knowing I could possibly find my real mom. What will I say to her when I see her? What will she say?

  "Don't thank me yet." Grandma Stephy points to the other bed. "Now, get some sleep. I have a lot of fun things planned for us tomorrow."

  I nod then climb into bed, still grasping onto the sketchbook. I may have told Grandma Stephy I'd really think this through, but I already know what my decision will end up being. Like Indigo said, good or bad, life is about experiences. And this is one experience I'm going through with, even if the outcome is brutal.

  PARIS TURNS OUT to be fun. Like a lot of a lot of fun. And we spend so much time sightseeing, tasting the food, and going shopping that I don't have too much time to dwell over my family situation. Still, during the late hours of the night, when Indigo is snoring and Grandma Stephy is tossing and turning, I lie awake in my bed going over every single memory I can scrounge up, trying to figure out how I missed it. Missed the truth. It's hard to take in, hard not to cry, and sometimes I let the tears soak my pillow. I just make sure that when the sun comes up, I'm bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready to go on whatever adventure Indigo has planned for us.

  "I'm so exhausted," Indigo says to Grandma Stephy as we get on the elevator to go up to our room. We've been in London for a few days now, and there are so many sights to see, like Big Ben and the Tower Bridge, that we've had hardly any time to rest. "I think I'm going to crash early tonight."

  We've been on our trip for a couple of weeks now, so when she catches my eye and gives me the look, I know her feigned exhaustion is just a ruse. She really has a hidden agenda for us tonight. I'm excited to see what she has planned and cross my fingers that maybe it'll wear me out enough I'll pass out by the time we go to bed.

  "That's okay. I was thinking about going out with some of my friends, anyway," Grandma says as the elevator doors glide open. She steps out into the hallway and we follow. "But could you two girls do me a favor?"

  "Of course, Grandma Stephy, we'd be more than happy to." Indigo lays on her charm thickly.

  "Make sure the door shuts all the way when you decide to sneak out." Grandma Stephy grins at us as she digs the keycard out of her purse. "Last time, you left it open. You were lucky we didn't get robbed."

  Indigo gives her a guilty look. "That was all the way back in Paris. If you knew we were sneaking out all this time, then why didn't you say anything?"

  Grandma Stephy swipes the keycard into the slot on our room door. "Because I didn't want to ruin the fun of sneaking out."

  "But you freaked out the one time you found out we left the room," Indigo points out as the three of us enter the small, quaint room. "Why do you suddenly not care what we do?"

  "I care. But I figured you two need to have some fun." She looks at me, and I know by that you two she really means me. Grandma Stephy sits down to take off her shoes. "But now that we've got that all out into the open, I'd prefer if you two told me where you were going and I didn't have to track you down with that little thing on your phone."

  "What thing?" Indigo asks as she unzips her suitcase.

  "That little tracker thing that lets you know where your phone is," Grandma Stephy gets up and heads into the bathroom to take a shower.

  I flop down on the bed and stretch my arms and legs out. "So does it lessen our fun that she's known this whole time what we've been up to? Because that whole we'rebeing-so-rebellious-and-it-
makes-this-so-much-more-fun speech you gave when we snuck out to go clubbing seems pretty insignificant now."

  "Nah, we still had fun, didn't we?" she asks with her head tucked down as she rummages through her bag for the perfect outfit.

  "That we did," I agree, sitting up. "So what're we doing tonight? Or is it another surprise?"

  She looks up at me, grinning as she throws a shimmery black dress at my face. "Tonight, we're going to find you a guy."

  I set the dress down on the bed and run my fingers along the glittery fabric, smoothing out the wrinkles. "I don't need to find a guy."

  "Liar. You so need to find a guy, so you can get over that Kyler dude."

  During a drunken conversation, I told Indigo about Kyler. She wasn't a huge fan of my crush on him, and said I deserved a guy who actually tried to spend time with me. I wanted to argue that we technically have spent time together, but knew my point was probably moot, since a few weekends doesn't really count.

  Knowing there's no point in arguing with her, I get up and wiggle into the dress then curl my hair. I apply some dark red lipstick and kohl eyeliner then add a drop of eye glitter, just because I love looking sparkly sometimes. Since I'm a newbie at the hair and makeup thing, I make sure to get Indigo's approval.

  "You look fantastic," she says, admiring my handiwork as she douses her hair in hairspray. "Seriously, you've caught onto this whole makeup and hair stuff way faster than I expected you to."

  "Thanks." While I appreciate her approval, there are times where I still feel like the girl with shiny brown and green hair, wearing the glittery, probably too short dress isn't me. That I look ridiculous and everyone around me knows it.

  My phone suddenly buzzes from the nightstand. Indigo and I trade a quizzical look, because the thing never goes off.

  I hurry over and pick it up, worried there might be something wrong at home. But my confusion only deepens when I see the message is from Kai.

  Kai: U haven't sent me any pics yet :( At first I thought maybe it's because u forgot all about your cute, sexy neighbor next door, but then I realized how impossible that could be and started worrying that maybe something bad happened to u. That's it, right? Something bad happened to u?

  Me: So you're saying u would rather something bad happen to me?

  Kai: Ha! I knew that'd get u to respond.

  Me: Whatever. I was never ignoring u, since this is the first time u sent me a message.

  Kai: I didn't want to seem too needy. But then I realized it wasn't about me. It was about your wellbeing.

  I roll my eyes. I can almost picture Kai smiling as he texts me, totally amused with himself.

  Kai: So where's my pic?

  "You should probably send him the one we took at the top of the Eiffel Tower. You looked amazing in it," Indigo says, reading the message from over my shoulder. "But first, you have to explain to me who Kai is."

  "He's Kyler's young brother who loves to annoy me," I say, sinking down on the bed.

  She coils a strand of her hair around her finger. "Annoy you, huh?" She seems wistful about something. "Because from what I read through the text, he seems like he's flirting with you."

  I laugh so hard I almost pee myself. "Kai isn't flirting with me. Trust me. He's just made it his life mission to annoy the crap out of me." I start to send Kai the pic Indigo suggested, but then stop myself.

  I don't fully understand why. Part of me whispers that my hesitancy is that I don't trust him. But the other part of me whispers that I'm just not ready to take these moments overseas--this fantasy world I've been living, where I feel like I can be anyone and do anything--and share it with my old life.

  Me: Don't have any cool pics yet. Sorry.

  I leave it at that and put my phone away. He doesn't reply. I don't know why I'm surprised or a tiny bit disappointed, but I am. The sucky part is I don't know what I'm more disappointed about--Kai's silence, or the fact I was too afraid to send him a damn photo.

  I shake the feeling off, though, and focus on tonight. I focus on my next life experience, because that's what I should be doing.

  FOUR HOURS LATER, Indigo and I get in line to ride the London Eye, a ginormous Ferris wheel with oval passenger pods that are covered in windows that are supposed to give you a great view of the city. Indigo and I met Peter just before we got in line to get on, and Peter just happened to bring along his friend, Nyle. Although, I don't think it was by accident. This is a setup. I get that. What I don't get is what I'm supposed to do with this cute British guy who keeps looking at me like I'm adorable.

  "You want me to get us a drink or something before we get on?" Nyle asks, seeming almost as nervous as I am.

  I try to smile like Indigo does all the time, whenever she's flirting. "Sure. That sounds great."

  He smiles before stepping out of the line to head over to the concession stand.

  Indigo gives me this knowing look and I have no idea how to react. Just what exactly does she think is going to happen on this fun-filled Ferris wheel ride of ours?

  I shake my head at her then take in the sights around me, the bright lights, the soft music from the street performs, and the energized buzz in the air.

  "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" Nyle asks when he returns to the line.

  I tear my attention off the starry sky and catch him checking me out. He smiles sheepishly at me as he hands me a bottle of Coke.

  "Yeah, it's really pretty here." I twist the cap off the bottle and glug down a few swallows, giving myself some time to figure out what to say to him.

  It's not that I'm shy, but I don't feel as comfortable around him as I do with people I know.

  We spend the next ten minutes in awkward silence before we make it to the front of the line and get onto the Ferris wheel. While Indigo chats with Peter about New York, Nyle gets a nervous energy boost and starts babbling to me about himself. I try to listen. I really do. But his opening liner is that he's a math major, and I end up zoning in and out of the conversation, more fascinated with the breathtaking view than the guy next to me.

  I feel like an asshole. I mean, Nyle is trying to get to know me, telling me about his classes, his love for numbers, canoeing, and water polo. I nod my head every so often and offer him a few smiles. He has to be getting exhausted of me and my silence; at least, that's what I figure when he suddenly grows quiet. But when I look at him, he's leaning in for a kiss.

  "You're really beautiful, you know that?" he whispers, his gaze flicking back and forth between my eyes and my lips. "And a really good listener."

  So I've been told, I think as his lips inch toward mine.

  I hesitate, deciding. Just kiss him, even though I have no interest in him? The idea seems both appealing and appalling. I mean, on the one hand, he's super cute, if you like that preppy, slacks-and-sweater sort of look. On the other hand, I've been bored to death the entire last couple of hours.

  "Hey, Isa, come chat with me for a sec, would you?" Indigo interrupts the moment, grabbing me by the arm and towing me to the opposite side of the pod, away from listening ears. "What are you doing?" she whispers, glancing back at Peter and Nyle.

  "Um, hanging out," I reply, super confused by the astounded look on her face.

  "No, I mean with Nyle," she hisses, unzipping her purse. "It looked like you were about to faint when he leaned in to kiss you."

  I scrunch up my nose. "You were watching that?"

  "Don't pretend like I'm some pervert. I was just keeping an eye on you, like I promised you I would." She pulls out a tube of lipstick and applies a coat to her lips. "Now, do you want to tell me why you looked sickened over the fact that a hot guy wants to kiss you?"

  "I'm not sickened by the fact." I flick a glance in Nyle's direction and he smiles at me. "I don't know if I should be kissing him, when we have nothing in common."

  She drops her lipstick back into her purse. "Oh, Isa." She ruffles my hair with her hand, something she does whenever she thinks I'm being naive. "You have so much to
learn."

  "About what exactly?" I comb my fingers through my hair, smoothing the strands back into place. "Kissing complete strangers?"

  "About kissing in general." She zips up her purse and rubs her lips together. "Look, if you really don't want to kiss Nyle, then don't. But if you want to kiss him, but you're not, because you think kissing should be this fairytale experience of love at first sight, then I recommend you get over it and give kissing a try."

  "But we have nothing in common, and honestly, I'm kind of bored."

  "Okay, well, maybe kissing him will make things less boring."

  "And what if it doesn't?"

  She stares out the glass, the light from the city reflecting in her eyes. "If you kiss him and it sucks, then pretend to sneeze and I'll come rescue you."

  "You want me to sneeze in his face?" I struggle not to laugh at the mental image of me sneezing in Nyle's face.

  "It's the best way to get him to stop. But I think you should give the kissing thing a try." She swings around a couple making out near the center of the pod and heads back across toward the guys. "And hey, maybe this will help you get over the Kyler thing."

  As I make my way back to Nyle, I can't help but think that maybe Indigo's right. Perhaps I should get over Kyler. After all, he's probably back home, in a lip lock with Hannah.

  I wince as I realize how big of a possibility that is, and before I even know what I'm doing, I march straight up to Nyle and seal my lips with his.

  He taste like beer, is the first thought that crosses my mind, which only makes me giggle.

  Bravo, Isa, on being the weirdest kisser in the world.

  Nyle seems to find me amusing, though, and chuckles along with me, before deepening the kiss. While there's no fireworks or explosions, I do discover that kissing is fun. I might have to try it again sometime.

  Or a lot.

  We kiss a lot that night, in the pod, on the street in front of Big Ben, and at a bakery shop we stop at to get cupcakes.

  At the end of the night, Nyle and I say goodbye. We don't exchange numbers or emails. We just kiss and tell each other we had fun. There's no expectations to try to talk to each other again and I like that.