“The lock was busted.” Kai dusts off his hands. “Trunks are actually a little bit easier to break into than doors.”
She purses her lips. “And how would you know that?”
Kai shifts his weight, scratching at the back of his neck. “Um… A lucky guess?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, young man.” But she drops the reprimand and points at the trunk. “But how’d they get from the trunk to the backseat.”
Kai leans forward to examine the inside of the trunk. “I’m guessing the seat wasn’t latched. It wasn’t last night if I’m remembering right.”
Through the back window of the car, I see the top of the backseat fold forward.
“The latch has been broken for a while,” Grandma Stephy admits when Kai stands upright. “I’ve been meaning to get it fixed, but honestly, I think it ruins the car’s character.”
Kai glances at me, and I shoot him an I-told-you-so look.
I move between the two of them. “Why would anyone think to break into a trunk and climb through the back when you could just break the window, though?”
“It’s more inconspicuous.” Kai’s gaze drifts to the ceiling of the carport. “Especially if there’s people or cameras around. You can make it look like you’re getting something out of the trunk or like you locked your keys in the car.”
Again, my grandma shoots him a harsh look, but Kai ignores it, his attention locked on a camera mounted on the corner of the ceiling of the carport.
“Those are all over the community,” my Grandma Stephy says. “They put them up only a couple of months ago after we had a couple of break-ins.
“The person who broke in probably saw them.” Kai’s gaze travels from the cameras to the trunk. “With the trunk open, they could easily hide what they were doing from the cameras.”
“But why would anyone go through that much trouble just to get a folder?” I fan my face as a cloud of Indigo’s cigarette smoke laces the air around me.
She’s been so quiet the last couple of minutes, relieving her stress by feeding her nicotine addiction. I wish I had something that would help me, something that would calm me down. I think about putting my hand in Kai’s again, but I can’t find the courage to do so.
“Well, that all depends.” Grandma Stephy faces me and crosses her arms, staring me down. “What was in the folder?”
I don’t know why, but I glance at Kai, like somehow he’s going to help me get out of telling her. I’m not ready to tell yet, not ready to say it aloud.
Kai’s not on the same page as me, though. He looks at me sympathetically as he mouths, I think you should tell her.
I scowl at him and mouth back, traitor.
The corners of his lips quirk.
“Isabella Anders.” Grandma Stephy’s voice rings with a warning. “Stop looking at your gentleman friend and just tell me what’s going on.” Her tone softens a smidgeon. “I know you’ve been going through a tough time the last month or so, but I promise you that, whatever it is, even if you’ve gotten yourself into some kind of trouble, I’m here for you. But I can’t help you unless you tell me what it is you need help with.”
I massage my temples with my fingertips, feeling a headache coming on. I know she’s right. She can’t help me if I don’t tell her. Still, it’s hard to get the words past my lips, because once they do, they become very real.
Knowing I’m stronger than this, I suck in a deep breath and rip off the band-aid. I tell her what Kai found out about my mom and how the folder contained some sort of information about why she was in jail. By the time I’m finished explaining, my chest feels like it’s being crushed. It’s hard to get any oxygen into my lungs.
“Isa, you need to calm down,” my Grandma Stephy says as I gasp for air. She places a hand on my shoulder. Her fingers are shaking. She’s scared. Of me? “I think you might be having a panic attack, hon.”
I hunch over, bracing my hands on my knees. “I’m fine … I just need a moment.”
Air in. Air out. Air in. Air out. Your mom’s. A murderer. She killed. Someone. No wonder. No one. Wants you.
“Isa.”
I feel another hand on my back and fingers delicately sketch up and down my spine.
“Take a few breaths,” Kai says as he wraps an arm around my back. He says something quietly to my Grandma Stephy then urges me to walk with him.
Sucking in an inhale, I stand upright and walk with him. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me … My chest just hurts so bad.”
“I think your grandma’s right. You’re having a panic attack.” His voice is quiet, cautious, like he’s afraid loudness might cause me to break.
“Where are we going?” I whisper as he guides me away from the apartments and toward the road.
“For a walk.”
“For a walk?” That’s it?
He looks at me curiously. “What? You act like that’s weird or something. We used to do it all the time, remember? Just go for walks to the park. Sometimes, we’d even walk around the park. It always made me feel better.”
I wet my dry lips with my tongue. “Really?”
“Yeah. It was the only time I ever felt calm in life. I always tuned out everything and just focused on being me.”
“That’s kind of sad. I mean, that it only happened for you when we walked.”
“I know, but it was my own damn fault. I let things get that way.”
We reach the edge of the apartment complex, and I think we’re going to turn around, but instead, he looks left then right before threading his fingers through mine and jogging across the road.
Just across from us is a bare field at least a mile long and surround by a short, wooden fence. When we get to the fence, he releases my hand to hoist himself over. Then he offers me his hand.
I point to a sign hanging on the fence. “It says no trespassing.”
“Since when do you care about the rules?” He waggles his brows at me. “Come on, Isa, you know you want to be a rule breaker.”
“No, I don’t,” I say but take his hand anyway.
After he takes my hand, I swing my leg over the fence. Then he helps me down even though we both know I’m not the kind of girl who needs help getting over a fence. Once I get my feet planted on the ground, we start across the grassy field toward a line of trees at the back of the property. Neither of us say anything for a while. The only sounds surrounding us are the soft lull of a gentle breeze and the crunching of the dry grass beneath our shoes.
“Feeling better?” he asks me after a minute or two goes by.
I nod. “A little bit.”
“Good.” He slings an arm around me and winces. He wraps his free arm around his midsection and cradles the side with the possible broken rib. “I’ve had a couple of panic attacks before. Fresh air and moving usually helps.”
“You’ve had panic attacks?” I ask, stunned. Kai? Joking, finds-humor-in-everything Kai?
“Not really anymore, but when I was younger, I did.”
“What caused them?” The wind kicks up and blows strands of my hair into my face.
His jaw clenches. “It’s a long story, one I don’t want to get into right now.”
I pick a few strands of hair out of my mouth. “You say that a lot.”
“I know.”
“Kai, you know you can tell me things, right? We spend all this time talking about me, and I feel like we never talk about you.”
He flashes me a grin. “That’s because I’m not nearly as exciting as you.”
“Ha. You are, too. I know you have this really exciting life that you never talk about with me.”
“It’s not really that exciting.”
“You got a concussion from a guy last night that was the size of a sumo wrestler.” I count down on my fingers. “There’s this thing going on with T that I haven’t quite figured out yet, but I know he’s the reason you probably have a broken rib. And don’t even get me started on Big Doug.”
His brow arches. “Wh
at’s wrong with Big Doug?”
“Nothing, other than the fact that he somehow knows how to look up records on people. Plus, he had all those computers … I’m guessing he does some sketchy, probably illegal stuff.” When he doesn’t argue, I add, “How did you meet him, anyway?”
He shrugs, staring down at the ground.
I sigh. “Let me guess. Another long story.”
He halts in the middle of the field, pulling me to a stop with him. “I know you think I’m keeping stuff from you, and I am, but only because I don’t want to drag you into my mess.”
“But you almost told me about what’s going on with you and T.”
“Yeah, but only because I was feeling vulnerable.”
“About what?”
He gives me a meaningful look that I can’t quite decipher. “Just stuff.”
I pout my lips. “You have to give me something. Please. Anything to distract me.”
He stares at my jutted lip, seeming torn over something. “Want to hear what happened between Hannah and me two summers ago?” He forces his attention away from my lips and his gaze settles on my eyes.
I still prefer he tell me what’s going on with T, but I nod. “I guess if that’s all you’ll give me, I’ll take it.”
He starts walking toward the trees again, keeping his arm around my shoulder. “So, we were at this party, and Hannah was really drunk, like seriously, one step away from puking all over the place.”
I almost smile. “I like this story already.”
“Oh, it gets even better.” He hops over a large rock in his way and bumps into me in the process. “Sorry,” he says, steadying himself by putting his hands on my hips.
When his fingertips slip just under the hem of the jacket and lightly brush against my skin, a shudder rolls through me. I can tell he feels it, too, by the way he stares at me in confusion yet curiously. It’s crazy that my body can still react like this when my mind’s lost in a living nightmare.
Thankfully, Kai gives me another free pass and doesn’t remark about the moment. Instead, he threads his fingers through mine, turns us around, and begins hiking toward the fence.
He’s been holding my hand a lot this morning, and I’m confused over whether I should let him or not. I mean, we used to hold hands back in seventh grade when we were friends, but this feels different. Could it be because we aren’t kids anymore?
“So, Hannah is super trashed and hitting on everyone,” he continues. “And when I say everyone, I mean, everyone. She even hit on the mom of the guy who was throwing the party.”
My eyes widen. “Holy freakin’ unicorns.”
He chuckles, swinging our interlaced hands as we walk. “In her defense, though, she thought the mom was the dad.”
“Did she look manly or something?”
“No, Hannah was just that trashed.”
“Does she always get that trashed at parties?”
“She drinks a lot, but I’ve never seen her that trashed before,” he says. “That night, something was bothering her.”
“Really?” I’m not completely buying it. “Because Hannah usually never gets bothered by stuff.”
“She doesn’t, huh?” He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Like yesterday morning when she had a shit fit because Kyler blew her off for you?”
“He didn’t blow her off for me,” I reply. “She asked him to do something a couple of days before Kyler and I even made plans.”
“Um, no, she didn’t,” he says. “Didn’t you listen to what Hannah said?”
“Honestly, I tune her out a lot.” The wind kisses my cheeks, and I rub my hand across them, trying to warm them up. “It’s kind of a habit.”
“And it’s a good habit to have.” He traces his thumb across the knuckles of the hand he’s holding. “But I’m telling you, I know my brother, and he blew her off because he was hoping your date would go great. And by great, I mean into-the-next-day kind of great.”
It takes a second to process his full meaning. “No, he didn’t.” My voice sounds like a mouse. “He wouldn’t do that.”
He gapes at me like I’m a mad woman. “Yes, he would. It’s what he does, Isa. He’s a player. You’ve watched him for, like, forever. You should know that.”
“He’s not a player. He’s just …” But I’m not sure what word fits Kyler. Yes, he flirts. Yes, he’s had girlfriends. Yes, he talked to me yesterday about how he’s hooked up with girls he didn’t really know. “He might’ve in the past, but I know for a fact that he wants to take things slow.”
His gaze bores into mine. “Did he tell you that?”
I nod. “He said he wanted to take things slow, and I know he was telling the truth because he wouldn’t even kiss me on the lips.”
He grinds his teeth. “But he kissed you somewhere else?”
Crap. “Um… Kinda of… I mean, he kissed me beside my lips…” God, this is so awkward. I should’ve just lied and said no.
Kai grows quiet. I can’t tell if he’s irritated, upset, mad, confused, or what.
“You want me to finish the story?” he asks quietly.
I nod, more than relieved to get away from the subject of Kyler almost kissing me. “Yes, I’m dying to hear if she ended up kissing the mom.”
“She tried, but the mom wasn’t having any part of it, so she moved on to the dad and the guy holding the party, his friends, their friends, pretty much everyone.”
“Did anyone kiss her back?”
“A couple of people,” he says. “But a lot of them blew her off because she was too drunk.”
“I know this kind of makes me a bad person,” I say, “but I like the idea of her getting rejected.”
“It doesn’t make you a bad person. In fact, I’m pretty sure you could never be a bad person.” He squeezes my hand. “You don’t have a bad bone in your body.”
A couple of days ago, I may have agreed with him, but right now, I can’t quite convince myself that I am.
“So, what happened?” I refuse to let myself think about my mom too much; otherwise, I’ll drown in the thoughts. “Did she go home alone?”
He stops in front of the fence but doesn’t climb over. “No, she actually went home with me.”
A sudden, crazy, irrational possessiveness overcomes me. Hannah went home with Kai? Hannah’s been with Kai? Kai? My friend Kai? No! The idea makes me maddeningly jealous. I don’t know why. He’s just my friend. But him being with her … like that … Ugh. My stomach aches just thinking about it.
“Not like that,” he says, as if reading my mind. “Kyler made me take her home after the guy throwing the party said she was too drunk and being annoying.”
My jealousy simmers down. “Why did he make you take her home?”
“Because his friends told him to make me,” he replies with a shrug. “Because I was the youngest. They did shit like that all the time, and if I argued, they’d make my life a living hell.”
What he says makes me wonder if that’s why he went from popular athlete to bad boy stoner. But before I can ask, he leans against the fence and continues on with the story.
“But, anyway, I took her home like I was supposed to. Only, when I parked the car in the driveway, she wouldn’t go inside. I asked her if she needed help and she said yes. Then she tried to kiss me,” he says. “When I leaned out of the way, she started to cry then threw up on the floor. She started babbling about what a shitty day she had, how your dad missed one of her cheerleader competitions. Apparently, he said it was because of work, but she found out it was because he secretly went to some art fair you were part of. And that made her so jealous of you.”
“Hannah jealous of me?” I question in doubt. “That doesn’t sound like something she’d say or feel.”
“Um, yeah, it does. I mean, think about it. You’re talented, sweet, and you’re so much stronger than she is. Deep down, I think she always knew you’d turn into the pretty, little butterfly you are now.” He dazzles me with a charming grin.
I
roll my eyes, but my heart’s doing all sorts of weird things in my chest. “But she has the perfect life. Why be jealous of someone like me?”
“She doesn’t have the perfect life, Isa. She’s a fake person who’s lived a fake life and feels fake. She admitted that to me, too.”
What he says is making me question everything. All those years of living with Hannah, watching her become popular and get whatever she wanted, and now Kai’s trying to say she’s jealous of me. It doesn’t make any sense. None of what he’s telling me makes any sense.
“The art fair she mentioned,” I say. “I remember it, but my dad wasn’t there. No one in my family ever went to any of them.”
“She said something about him peeking in on you or something, because Lynn would have freaked out if she knew,” he explains, “just like Hannah did.”
I’m not sure what to say. The idea that my dad would go to one of my art fairs seems insane. Even if he did, I’m not sure I care since he did it in secret, still putting me second over Lynn. And like Lynn said earlier, he hates me. If he hated me, why would he secretly go to the art fair, though?
I shield my eyes from the sun as it peeks through the clouds. “How did you end up getting Hannah into the house?”
“It was actually really complicated because she kept trying to hit on me again,” he says. “No matter what I said, she wouldn’t stop. Finally, I had to tell her something that pissed her off enough.”
“What’d you say?”
For a fleeting second, panic flashes in his eyes. “I’m not even sure … I can’t really remember.” He’s lying, but before I can say something, he hurries on with the story. “Whatever it was got her to go into the house.” He picks at a crack in the fence. “But not until she threatened me first. She said, if I ever told anyone, she’d ruin my reputation. But since my reputation is long gone, I figure her threat is pretty useless now.”
“It’s kind of silly that she got so upset,” I say. “I’ve been embarrassed way worse than that.”
“But you’re a lot stronger than Hannah,” he presses, glancing up at me with those crazy-intense eyes of his. “And Hannah can’t handle the idea of people knowing she was rejected. She wants everyone to believe she’s perfect, even when she’s not.”
The Year of Falling in Love (Sunnyvale #2) Page 14
