“Wait,” I say. “But you asked me to come home this weekend so you could break the news to them.”
He shrugs. “I just wanted you to come home.”
“Why?”
“Because I missed my sister.”
I narrow my eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
“Fine. I’m transferring colleges,” he says.
“Transferring? You’ve been at FSU for a month. How can you already transfer?” I ask.
“My dad is Stanley Jacobson.”
Which is an explanation. Stanley can do anything he wants.
“But why do you want to transfer?” I ask. “Isn’t Florida, like, your dream?”
“It was,” Scott says. “Before. And I thought it still was, but I’m miserable there. Florida is a party school.”
“Hello, you’re Scott Jacobson. Your middle name is party,” I say. “I thought you’d love it there.”
“I quit drinking.”
“You quit?” I ask.
“A few months ago,” he answers. “As it turns out, I wasn’t as addicted to the alcohol as much as I was to the attention I got from doing it.”
“Huh,” I say. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“In case I couldn’t quit. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me,” Scott says.
Cam, who has remained quiet, shifts. I can tell he’s uncomfortable, but I’ve waited for a year and a half for Scott to say this to me. I think he knows that.
“I could never be disappointed in you for trying. Trying is all I’ve wanted you to do the last year and a half,” I say. “To be honest, I wish you would’ve come to me a long time ago. I would’ve helped you.”
“How could I come to you when you had everything going on with you?” he asks. “Plus, you referred to me as your step monster.”
“Sorry about that,” I say, feeling guilty for it.
Scott is right.
I haven’t tried to help him, like, at all.
“I’ve missed my best friend,” I say.
“Me?” he asks.
I nod.
“Me too,” he says, then stands up. “I’m at my quota for cute family moments for the day.”
I just smile.
Because, seriously.
I’m so happy right now.
“You’re my favorite stepbrother, you know that, right?”
“I’m your only stepbrother.”
“Exactly. Which means you’re also my least favorite. Congratulations,” I say.
“Seeing as how I am your big brother, I can’t approve of Cam being in your room.”
Camden stands up, prepared to leave.
“He doesn’t have to go,” I tell Scott. “Cam is my friend. He hangs out in my dorm room all the time.”
“It’s different in your dorm room.”
“How is it different?” I ask.
“Do you have a roommate?”
I nod.
“That’s how it’s different,” Scott says. “If you want to hang out, do it downstairs.”
“Fine,” I say, then stand up.
Scott looks at his phone. “Your mom is home anyway.”
I look at my phone to see I got her arrival text too. I guess she still likes to send texts instead of walking to my room. Our house is big, but not big enough that she can’t walk to my room. Seriously.
“Come with?” I ask Scott.
He shakes his head. “You two are on your own. I’ve been hanging out with your mother all week. If she asks to take another selfie with me, my head might just explode.”
Ugh.
So it’s one of those weeks.
Let’s just hope she doesn’t want to take a selfie with Cam.
…
“Isla, oh my gosh, you look so cute,” Mom says as we come down the stairs. “Did you do something different with your hair?”
“Ugh,” I hold my hair with my hand, “nope—oh, wait! My roommate, Zoe, is super into watching beauty gurus on YouTube. She put this apple cider vinegar and baking soda mix on my hair. She swears by it. I let her because sometimes it’s better to just give in and not fight it.”
My mom claps her hands, like it’s the best things she’s ever heard. “I must try it,” she says, then looks at Cam like she’s noticing him for the first time. “Who is this? Your boyfriend?”
I roll my eyes. “Mom, I told you about him. This is my friend, Camden. Cam, this is my mom, Stephanie Jacobson.”
“Nice to meet you,” Cam tells my mom.
Mom looks at him. “Are you her boyfriend?”
“Mom! He’s my friend!” I yell, mostly because I’m mortified. My face is hot, and I’m sure it’s bright red.
“I’m just saying, he’s quite handsome,” Mom says.
Cam laughs nervously, like he doesn’t know how to respond.
“You need a filter for your mouth,” I tell Mom. “Don’t make it awkward.”
“Right. Sorry,” Mom says, then looks at Cam. “So why aren’t you dating my daughter? Don’t you think she’s pretty?”
“Ugh…,” Cam says awkwardly.
“Mom, please.”
“Sorry,” she says. “Did I tell you that we got a new chef to cook? No more takeout. My trainer convinced me that us eating like that was bad.”
“Cool,” I say. “Does your chef make sushi?”
“She is a vegan chef,” Mom says. “I’m vegan now. It’s all the rage. You know Beyoncé is vegan.”
Mom loves diet fads. All of them. So I know this one won’t last long.
“Awesome, Mom. Sounds great.”
Her phone goes off, and she pulls it out, going into her own world. I take my chance to escape. Cam, when he sees I’m walking quickly towards the stairs, comes after me. Most likely, he doesn’t want to be left alone with my mother. I can’t blame him.
When we get upstairs, Cam stops in the hallway outside of my room.
“Your mom is…”
I cut him off. “Weird. I know.”
“I was going to say nice, but yeah, I suppose weird is a good word,” he says.
I laugh. “Sorry that my mom checked you out and basically begged you to be my boyfriend.”
He doesn’t respond, he just puts his hands in his pockets awkwardly.
My phone goes off with a text from my mom.
Mom: It was nice meeting your boyfriend. Dinner is in thirty minutes. No sweatpants! I’m serious. It’s a formal dinner. Your father is having a client over.
“Great,” I say to my phone.
“What is it?”
“Dinner in thirty minutes. Apparently Stanley, my stepdad, is having some client over. So it’s going to be completely awkward,” I say. “Plus, hello, vegan food.”
My phone goes off again.
Scott: Me. You. (And I suppose your friend too). Outside. Ten minutes. Trust me, you do not want to stay here and eat your mom’s food.
Scott: If you don’t believe me—GLUTEN FREE PIZZA WITH NO CHEESE AND MEAT. How is it even considered pizza?
Me: I’m SO IN!
“We’re breaking out of jail,” I tell Cam, showing him the text from Scott.
Camden laughs.
And just like that, Scott is my best friend again.
I missed him a lot.
TWELVE
Sunshine and rainbows.
I don’t check my email again until I get back to school. When I do, I have an email waiting for me from Lonerguy279. I have a lot to catch him up on.
From: Lonerguy279
To: Pinkstar737
Subject: Sending a virtual hug.
Dear Pinkstar737,
I don’t have to see a picture to know you’re cute. Beauty doesn’t always come from the outside. It’s from the inside. And you, my friend, are gorgeous inside. That is why I spend so much time writing you. That is why I now listen to K-Pop music. That is why, every morning when I wake up, the first thing I do is check my email, hoping that you’ve emailed me.
It’s awesome that you had
coffee with Scott. Do you think maybe he regrets all the bad things he’s done to you?
Cam… I’m pretty sure he likes you as more than a friend… You know how I know? Because I know that NO GUY would go meet a girl’s family if he didn’t like her as more than a friend. Maybe “super sexy” Cam thinks you’re “super sexy” too.
I told you college would be good. Dr. Sanchez can’t be all that bad. Without her, we wouldn’t be talking right now. So, I like her on that thought alone.
So… “super sexy” Cam came to your door. I need details.
Sincerely,
Lonerguy279
I hit reply.
From: Pinkstar737
To: Lonerguy279
Subject: I think you’re crazy.
Dear Lonerguy279,
You’re telling me that I am the ONLY reason you listen to K-Pop? How can you say that? Korean pop music is the best. It’s like entering into a land of sunshine and rainbows. Seriously.
I had fun with Scott this weekend. Like, a lot of fun. And guess what? HE’S COMING TO UGA! (Did I tell you I’m attending University of Georgia? Because I am). Anyway, he’s transferring. His dad worked it all out, and he’s moving here. I’m so excited. Things feel like they used to, and I like being around Scott now. I missed him.
As far as your theory about Cam, I think you’re wrong. He’s never acted or even hinted at the fact that he wants to be more than friends. Plus, we haven’t known each other that long.
Do me a favor and NEVER tell Dr. Sanchez this, but I think the chick is growing on me. I actually don’t dread therapy this morning.
Nothing happened. Literally seconds after Cam came to my door, Scott came. Nothing would’ve happened with Cam anyway. He hangs out in my dorm all the time. If he wanted to make a move, he would. Which he DOESN’T. So that is the end of THAT conversation. :P
Sincerely,
Pinkstar737
…
Zoe decides that she wants to straighten my hair on Monday afternoon, just to “see what it will look like.” But she is smiling the entire time she is doing it, so who am I to say no? I just give in because it’s best to just give in to her.
“How did your stepbrother just transfer here during the middle of the semester?” Zoe asks.
“My stepdad is Stanley Jacobson. He’s… kind of well off, I guess. And whatever he wants, he gets,” I say. “He thinks money can buy everything. I suppose it can buy everything that he wants.”
“So you’re rich?”
“No. My stepfather is. I just happen to have a credit card that is billed to him.”
She grins. “Did I ever tell you how good you look in the color purple?”
“Purple?”
Holding the straightener, she walks directly in front of me. “Me. You. Shopping. It needs to be a thing. Cause, girl, you need a makeover.”
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Please, please, please, please, please, please…” She pouts out her lower lip.
I know Zoe.
She will bug me about it until I say yes.
“Fine,” I say.
She jumps up and down. “Yes!”
I can already tell that saying yes was a mistake. I’m in for a long day of shopping.
She goes back to fixing my hair when my phone goes off. It’s a text from Cam.
Cam: Want tacos for dinner? My treat.
Zoe, who is reading the text over my shoulder, squeals. “Oh, my gosh. You have a date.”
“I do not,” I say.
“A guy doesn’t pay for a girl he wants to just be his friend,” she says.
I want to object and say that it’s not true, but I don’t exactly have a lot of experience in the dating area. I just ignore her and turn back to my phone.
Me: Sure. Give me, like, thirty minutes. Zoe is straightening my hair. THE TORTURE IS REAL.
Zoe smacks my arm. “Shut up. You like it and you know it.”
I stick my tongue out at her as somebody knocks on the door.
“Come in,” she yells.
Camden walks in. I should’ve known he was basically at my door when he texted me because that’s always the case.
“You’re not supposed to see the girl until after she’s ready,” Zoe says to him as she continues to straighten my hair.
Cam walks over to where I’m sitting and picks up a strand of my hair that has been straightened. Having him this close to me is a little unnerving. He drops the piece and looks at Zoe.
“What are you doing to her hair?” he asks.
“Straightening it,” she answers proudly.
“I know that. But why are you doing it?”
“Because Isla never does anything with her hair. I’m just trying to show her that she can occasionally spend more than five minutes getting ready,” Zoe says, like it should be obvious.
“Do you not like it?” I ask.
He looks at me for a minute. Half of my hair is like it always is and the other half is straight. I’m sure I look funny to him.
“I like it,” he says after a long hesitation. “I like it the other way too, though. You don’t need to spend more than five minutes getting ready, because you’re already beautiful.”
“Aw,” Zoe says. “Now go sit down before you talk Isla out of the makeover I just talked her into.”
“Makeover?” he asks.
“Not makeover,” I answer. “New clothes. And you can style my hair. But that is it.”
“Fine, whatever,” she says.
“Girls are weird,” Cam says, then sits down on my bed.
“I know, right,” I say, completely agreeing with him. “Zoe gets up at least an hour before I do just so she can fix her hair. The girl is legit crazy.”
“What’s wrong with your hair right now?” Cam asks Zoe.
She’s currently got it up in a bun. She calls it a “messy” bun. It takes her five minutes to fix it. She puts it up and pulls at it and pins it. Way too complicated for me personally, but it does look good on her.
“I overslept this morning,” she says. “It won’t happen again.”
“I like it,” I tell her. “You look cute.”
There is another knock on the door. Cam jumps up and opens it.
“Yeah, just make yourself at home,” Zoe says to him, sarcastically.
Scott walks through the open door. He stops when he sees me getting my hair fixed.
“Wow. This is a monumental moment,” Scott says. “Isla actually fixing her hair. Or getting it fixed by somebody else, whatever. I haven’t seen this since you were sixteen. Those were the good ole’ days, back when you were cute.”
Apparently it’s pick on Isla day.
“Cruel, Scott Jacobson,” I say.
Cam shuts the door and sits back down on my bed. Scott sits on the futon.
“Isla used to be cute?” Zoe asks him.
“Yep,” Scott answers. “She was a cheerleader, you know. She was pretty much the envy of our high school. Though I think a lot of envy was because she had me as a stepbrother. I mean, who wouldn’t be jealous?”
I laugh.
Because, seriously.
“Could you be any more arrogant?” I ask.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Scott says. “Anyway, what are you up to tonight? Besides fixing your hair.”
“Cam and Isla are going on a date,” Zoe says.
My face warms. “It’s not a date. We’re just…”
“Friends,” Cam finished for me.
“Why does everybody think we’re dating?” I ask.
“Maybe you two are dating and you just don’t know it yet,” Zoe says.
“Exactly,” Scott says. “Everybody knows you’re meant to be. You just need to figure it out for yourselves.”
“I hate that saying,” Camden says. “Meant to be. Fate. You aren’t always destined to be what people say you are.”
Wait.
Does that mean Cam doesn’t like me as more than a friend?
<
br /> Of course he doesn’t.
Look at him.
He’s tall. Over six feet. He’s got gorgeous dark hair and eyes the color of the sky on a cloudless summer day. If you look up hot guy on Google, you’d find him. He’s perfect in every single way.
And look at me.
Everything about me is average. I have dirty blonde hair that I don’t fix. I own two pairs of shoes, and both of them are well worn. Even though I buy new clothes, I mostly just wear the same thing over and over again.
But most importantly, I’m damaged.
Screwed up.
I don’t blame Cam for not wanting to date me. I wouldn’t want to date me if I were him.
“Cam’s right,” I say. “Why would he want to date somebody as screwed up as I am? I’m lucky he’s even wants to be my friend.”
“Is that what you think?” Scott asks. “About yourself? Because you’re not defined by what happened to you. A sick person targeted you. You’re not screwed up. You’re strong. Look at how far you’ve come in the last year and a half. I look up to you.”
“What happened?” Zoe asks.
“It’s not important,” I say.
Cam, who has remained quiet the whole time, looks up. “Isla, I don’t think you’re screwed up. To be honest, I feel like I’m the lucky one because I get to be your friend. Since I met you, you have changed me. I feel like I’m a better person now. To be honest, when you’re ready to date somebody, you deserve somebody a lot better than me.” He stands up from the bed. “I need to go. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow night instead.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to respond, he just runs out the door.
“Does that mean you can hang out with me now?” Scott asks.
I roll my eyes at Scott. “Should I go after him?”
“Just let him have some space,” Zoe says. “He’s obviously dealing with something. When he’s ready to tell you, he will.”
The Day My Life Began Page 8
