Текст книги "The Year I Became Isabella Anders"

Автор книги: Jessica Sorensen

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

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 naïve. “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.

“Was I right? Or was I right?” Indigo asks me.

It’s well after midnight, but I feel wide awake as we skip through the glitzy hotel lobby and toward the elevators.

“You were right.” I push the up button and wait for the doors to open.

Indigo is grinning like a dork as we jump into the elevator, but her mood swiftly shifts. “You are having fun, though, right? I just want to make sure that you are. I know after what you found out in Paris . . .” She sighs, slipping off her purple platform shoes. “I just want to make sure you’re having fun, despite what you found out.”

“I promise I am.” I link arms with her. “You’ve done good, cuz.”

“Why thank you, cuz.” She laughs, slumping back against the wall. “So what did you think of your first kiss?”

“It actually wasn’t that bad. And Nyle seems like a great kisser.”

“Did it help you forget about Kyler?”

“It actually did for a while,” I answer truthfully.

“Good. I’m glad.” She presses our floor button with her toe, too lazy to lean forward and do it with her fingers. “You should have seen the look on Nyle’s face when you kissed him. He was so into it.”

I replay the kiss in my head. The girl in the memory looks like me, yet she’s almost unrecognizable, doing things I never thought I’d do.

I look at my reflection in the mirror on the wall. My eyes are big, my cheeks flushed, and my lips are swollen. I look wired, happy, hyped up on life and experiences. I wonder if Kyler, Hannah, or even Kai saw me right now, they’d know who I was. I think about texting Kai a photo of me and finding out, but am too worried he’ll know exactly who I am, still see me as the nerdy girl next door. And I’m too worried he won’t, that through this exterior transformation, I’ve somehow lost my entire identity.

But that can’t be true. I still feel the same. For the most part, anyway.

I vow to myself right there and then that I won’t lose sight of who I am, no matter what happens. Not just while I’m here, but when I get back home too.

OVER THE NEXT couple of weeks or so, I hold onto my promise to myself as much as I can. It becomes increasingly complicated, though, with each crazy endeavor Indigo and I embark on.

Like the first time we went clubbing in Scotland. We spend half the night chatting with complete strangers before we head into a club. Indigo orders us drinks then fixes her attention into coaxing me into dancing with her.

“You want me to what?” I gape at her like she’s a raving lunatic.

She laughs as she picks up a shot glass. “I said let’s dance. We look too hot not to dance.”

While I agree that we both look hot in our short dresses with our hair all done¸ I don’t think dancing is necessary, especially when I can’t dance.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’ll be fine.” She angles back her head, throws down the shot, and then sets the glass down on the counter.

“Yeah, clearly you’ve never seen me dance; otherwise, you wouldn’t be suggesting that,” I say, peering around at the people laughing, drinking, and grinding all up on each other.

“That’s a lame excuse,” she says. “Give me a better one and I’ll let you off the hook.”

The dim lighting makes it hard to see anyone’s face, and with the atmosphere buzzing and the music throbbing, there isn’t a good excuse I can see anywhere.

I look back at her, sulking. “Do I have to?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” she says, shimmying her hips as she backed toward the dance floor. “But you’re missing out on one of life’s great experiences.” Then she raises her hands in the air as she reaches the edge of the dance floor, rocking out to a bass driven song. “Dance like no one’s watching!” she shouts over the music then starts head banging like a freakin’ punk rock chick.

I wait for someone to laugh at her, but I quickly realize no one gives a shit about what anyone else is doing. Everyone’s too focused on their own thing, like I should be.

So, with a deep breath, I gag down my shot and amble for the dance floor.

It takes me a few minutes to warm up and let loose, but I get there. There’s something invigorating about dancing, like there’s no tomorrow. With every laugh, sway of my hips, flail of my arms, I feel more like a different person. Riskier. More daring. Someone who lives life, instead of just existing in it.

So I keep dancing.

I dance until my feet hurt.

Until they blister.

Until I’m so damn tired I can’t think.

By the time Indigo and I make it back to the hotel, I’m dripping with sweat, tired as hell, but have a huge-ass smile on my face, totally high on life.

“You look so happy,” Indigo remarks as we lazily wander down the hallway toward our room.

“I am happy. Like really, really happy,” I say as she rests her head on my shoulder and leans all her weight against me.

I do the same thing back to her and we giggle.

“I’m too tired. Hold me up,” she whines through our giggling.

“No way. You hold me up. You’re the one who made me dance.”

“Well, you’re the one who refused to stop.”

Right as we’re about to tip over, my phone vibrates from inside my pocket. I don’t have to look to know who the message is from, because he’s the only person who’s texted me during this entire trip.

Kai: I’m still waiting on that photo. And don’t say u don’t have any good ones again, because I’m not buying it. You’ve been gone for over two months and there’s no way u haven’t taken any good photos yet.

Me: What’s up with the pressure? It’s starting to stress me out.

Kai: You’re stressed out??? Think about how stressed I’ve been. I mean, I haven’t heard anything from u except for a few messages here and there, and for all I know, this might not even be u. Maybe some British dude stole your phone and is texting me, pretending to be u.

Me: Wow, that’s quite the story u came up with.

Kai. Thanks. I’m pretty proud of it myself.

Me: Well, sorry to burst your awesome story bubble, but I’m not a British dude. I’m just plain old Isa.

Kai: Prove it. Send me the most awesome pic you’ve taken so far. That’s the only way I’ll believe u.

“I think he just wants to have a picture of you,” Indigo mutters as she reads the messages from over my shoulder.

“Doubtful.”

Me: Can’t right now. Sorry.

Kai: I’m seriously disappointed. I was holding onto the hope that you’d finally send me one so I could be entertained at this lame-ass party.

Me: First of all, why on earth would a photo of me entertain u? And second, if you’re at a party, why r u bored? Isn’t that why people go to parties? So they can be unbored?

Kai: Unbored? Hmmm . . . I’m not sure what that means.

Me: Hey, don’t mock my awesome made up words. I work hard on them.

Kai: I actually remember that about u. U always tried to convince me that things could be unglittery and unzombie-like. I thought it was funny.

Me: That’s because I’m a funny girl. Duh. I thought u knew that already.

Kai: I did . . . Still do. Now please, send me something fun to look at so I can be unbored.

Me: Only if u say pretty please.

Indigo giggles. “Holy shit, Isa, you’re totally flirting with him.”

My cheeks flush. “I am not.”

“You so are.”

“So am not . . . I’m just a little tipsy.”

“So? You were a little tipsy toward the end of that night we hung out with Nyle and Peter, and I didn’t see you flirting with them.” She gives me an accusing look.

My cheeks blaze with heat as I put the phone away without sending Kai another message. “Well, I know Kai.”

She examines my face intently and I wonder what the hell she sees. “You should ask him for a pic, so I can see what he looks like.”

I shake my head. “No way. Then you’d try to push me to flirt with him even more.”

“Why? Is he hot?”

I shrug. “Sure. I mean, a lot of girls at my school think so.”

“Do you think so?” she presses.

I sigh. “Yeah, but so what? It’s not like he’d ever think the same way about me.”

Indigo targets me with a don’t be silly, Isa look, something she does a lot. “No guy is that obsessed with getting a picture from a girl unless he likes her.”

“Kai doesn’t like me.” I grit my teeth, thinking about how embarrassed he looked when we were spotted walking home together. “Trust me.”

“It seems like he does to me. I think you might just be in denial, because you don’t think there’s any way a guy could ever like you.”

“I don’t think that anymore.” I glance down at my red and black dress and my long, hairless legs. “But Kai hasn’t seen me like this. He only knows the awkward, hairy-legged beast Isa.”

“Just because you shaved your legs and do your hair doesn’t make you a different person,” she says as we near our room. “You’re still the same Isa that came on this trip. You just have a little more confidence now.”

“Okay, so that might be true, but Kai still doesn’t like me.” When she gives me a doubtful look, I give her a brief recap of mine and Kai’s history.

“Maybe he feels bad about blowing you off now. People do change a lot from when they were thirteen,” she says after I’m finished. She uses the keycard to open the room door, but pauses before she walks in. “And it does kind of sound like he’s been trying to be friends with you over the last year or so.”

I start to protest, but my jaw snaps shut as I hear the sound of moaning coming from inside our room. Indigo’s eyes pop wide as the mattress squeaks and we hear Grandma Stephy groan, “Oh, Harry.”

“Oh. My. God.” Indigo rapidly shuts the door and we both sprint off toward the elevators.

Only when the elevators slide shut, does Indigo finally speak again.

“I don’t know what’s worse . . .” She punches the main floor button. “ . . . what we just heard, or the fact Grandma Stephy is getting more action on this trip than either of us.”

Laughter bursts from my lips, and Indigo quickly joins in. It’s the silliest moment ever, but I’ll cherish it forever. It’s because of moments like these that I’ve made it through this trip without sinking into a pit of despair over what I learned about my mother. Yeah, I know that soon I’ll be back home and I’ll have to finally deal with the truth. But I’ll always have these memories, even if some of these moments are really awkward. Through the good, bad, and painfully embarrassing, this trip changed me. Made me stronger. More confident. And hopefully that’ll help me when I get home.

I’m laughing so hard by the time we arrive on the main floor that my ribs actually hurt. “So what do we do now?” I ask as I stumble out into the vacant lobby.

Indigo’s gaze skims the front desk, which the receptionist has abandoned, then her eyes land on the pool sign just to our right.

“I have an idea,” she says, dragging me toward the doors with a wicked glint in her eyes.

“But I don’t have my swimsuit,” I protest, digging my heels into the floor. “And it’s after hours.”

“So what?” She swipes the keycard through the slot then tugs open the door. “There’s no one here to stop us, is there?”

She’s right. There’s not a single person around. But why would there be, when it’s four o’clock in the morning?

The door bangs shut behind us as we step into the faintly lit room that smells like chlorine. The pool gently ripples in front of us, begging to be dipped in.

“What about swimsuits?” I tentatively inch up to the edge, slip off my heels, and dip my toe into the lukewarm water.

“Swimsuits are for amateurs.” She shimmies out of her dress and kicks it off to the side. “Besides, you can’t cross skinny-dipping off your list if you’re wearing a swimsuit.”

“Skinny-dipping isn’t on my list,” I say as she cannonballs into the water, wearing nothing but her underwear and bra.

“The water feels so nice,” she remarks as she floats on top of the water, her hair spread out like a veil.

She looks so relaxed and the water so inviting.

“Oh, what the hell?” I peel off my dress and wade into the water.

She’s right. The water does feel fantastic. And while the moment is relaxing and not as heart-pumping as dancing in a club or kissing guys on Ferris wheels, it’s one I’m glad I lived.

An hour later, we climb out of the pool, dry off, and slip into our dresses. We don’t go back into the room, instead, heading out to the park across the street, where we watch the sunrise.

“I can’t believe we have to go home in a few weeks,” Indigo says as we rest against each other on a bench near a section of trees.

“I know, but at least we got to experience it, right?” I squint as the sun peeks through the morning haze and lights up the sky.

“I’ve taught you very, very well, young grasshopper. I feel like such a proud mama right now.” She pats my head and we both giggle.

Then we settle against each other and simply watch the sky. I feel so at peace right now with myself, yet afraid at the same time that I won’t have this feeling ever again. Suddenly, I find myself digging out my phone and snapping a photo of me with wet hair and slightly smeared makeup, the sunrise as my background. I have a content smile on my face and actually look fairly decent.

This was who I was once, I type then hit send.

I have no idea why I chose those words, other than I’m still a little high on such an amazing night. A minute later, I instantly regret it, but now there’s no going back.

I spend the rest of the morning with Indigo, waiting for Kai to reply.

He never does.

I’m not sure how I feel about it. Thankfully, I don’t have too much time to wallow over it, because hours later, Indigo and I are moving on to our next adventure.

“OH. MY. GOD,” Indigo groans as she stuffs her face with a double cheeseburger. “I missed you, my dear, sweet hamburger, even though you treat me poorly and go straight to my thighs.”

I giggle in the backseat of Grandma Stephy’s car then pop a fry into my mouth. “The food wasn’t that bad over there,” I say.

She narrows her eyes at me with a drizzle of grease dripping down her chin. “Dude, are you fucking crazy? It was terrible. Everything was either burnt or topped with some weird sauce.” She sets the burger down on her lap and dunks a fry into a cup of ranch. “Good God, I’ve missed ranch on my fries. I’m seriously about to have a foodgasm.”

“No foodgasms in the car,” Grandma Stephy says as she turns the car off the main road.

I set the fry that I was about to eat down as I suddenly lose my appetite as we get closer to my house. We’ve been back in Sunnyvale for a couple of nights now, but this will be the first time I’ve been home in three months. And it’ll be the first time I’ve seen my family since I discovered the secret about my mother.

It’s crazy that I managed to hardly think about it the entire trip. Now that I’m back in the states, it’s all I can think about twenty-four seven.

Time to get some answers.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me for a little bit longer?” Grandma Stephy asks me for the millionth time.

“I wish I could,” I say truthfully. “But my senior year starts in a couple of days, and I need to get stuff ready.”

“What stuff?” Indigo stares at me while she chews on a huge mouthful of hamburger. “We already have your wardrobe fully taken care of. You’re seriously going to look edgy hot.”

I smile. She’s been calling my style edgy hot ever since around London, when I started wearing boots and leather jackets with dresses and knee-high socks. “I’m not talking about needing to get clothes. I’m talking about getting supplies and stuff. You know, pencils and notebooks and books. I also need to get started on my blog again. I haven’t done anything with it all summer, and I want to get it going again.” I tuck a few strands of my long brown hair with reddish highlights behind my ear. “I actually think I’m going to blog about our trip.”

“Good. It was an awesome trip full of tell-all adventures.” She grins at me, and I smile back. “Although, not all of them are tell-all.” She points a finger at me, warning me to keep my mouth shut about some of the more interesting stuff we did on our little trip, like our skinny-dipping adventure in the pool.

I draw my fingers over my lips, silently telling her I’ll keep my trap shut.

“What are you two girls yammering about?” Grandma Stephy asks as she makes a right into my neighborhood.

“Nothing,” Indigo and I say at the same time.

Grandma Stephy shakes her head. “Fine. Keep your secrets. Just know that I have mine, too.”

“Oh, we know you do,” Indigo says then moans through a giggle, “Oh, Harry.”

Grandma Stephy’s eyes widen. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You don’t know?” Indigo questions with doubt.

Grandma Stephy rolls her eyes. “How on Earth would I know what the hell you’re giggling about? You two think everything’s funny.”

“Only things that are funny,” Indigo says through choked laughter. “I know this might be past your time, but the customary rule for having roommates is to leave a tie on the door when you’re hooking up. That way, someone doesn’t accidentally walk in on something they don’t want to see.

The two of them start bantering, and I sit back in the seat and watch the homes as we pass them.

I’ve never been a fan of where I live, but after traveling and seeing so many historical places, Gothic buildings, and even an underground tunnel filled with bones, I kind of hate the homes built to show off the upper class. But the hatred I feel for the houses dissipates the moment we pull up to my two-story home, and is replaced by the deepest, nerve-striking anger I’ve ever felt.

It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to change. You’re stronger now, and you’re going to find out about your mother. Maybe you’ll even be able to go live with her.

After my grandma parks the car, I get out, go around to the trunk, and start piling my bags onto the ground.

“Here, let me help you.” Grandma Stephy shoos me out of the way, takes the last of my bags out, and sets them aside in the driveway. “You want me to help you carry them in?”

I shake my head. “I can do it.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, stealing a hesitant glance toward my house, probably afraid to leave me.

“I’m positive,” I say. “Would you stop worrying so much? Everything’s going to be fine.”

“You’re my granddaughter. It’s my job to worry about you.” She pulls me in for a hug. “If you need anything at all, you call me, you hear?”

“You’re still going to help me, right?” I ask. “You promised you would.”

“I told you I’d look into it, and I will, but I really think the best thing to do is talk to your father.” She pats my back. “Take a few days and let the trip wear off then call me, and we’ll figure something out.”

I nod, hugging her one last time before stepping away. “Thank you. Not just for the trip, but for everything.”

“I just want you to be happy, Isa.” She rounds the car and opens the driver’s side door, calling out, “And remember, I’m only a thirty minute drive away.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” I holler back.

Laughing, she gets inside the car.

I’m about to start up the driveway when the passenger window rolls down and Indigo sticks her head out.

“You know, I’m going to be visiting at least once a week to make sure you don’t go back to your baggy clothes, caterpillar eyebrows, and furry beast legs look,” she warns. “And if you’re not living up to your full potential, you’re in deep shit. I’m talking hours and hours of reading beauty magazines.”

My face twists in disgust and I give her a salute. “Yes, boss.”

“And don’t you ever forget that.” She leans out to hug me. “I can also take care of your sister if you need me to. Seriously. I’m an expert in taking bitchy girls down from their pedestals.”

I smile to myself, thinking about how mafia her words sound, kind of like the last thing Kai said to me.

Kai.

I scrunch up my nose. He never did text me back after I sent that photo. I’m not sure why, but it really started to bother me. Not in an oh-my-God-it’s-the-end-of-the-world sort of way, but more in a why-did-he-bug-me-for-a-photo-if-he-was-just-going-to-dis-me way.

My gaze drifts to the house next door and then to my own oversized home. It’s weird being back, so close to Kyler, Hannah, and Kai, when I no longer look like Swamp Thing. But changing my looks wasn’t about any of them. I just felt an overwhelming need to change into a person who is more confident, and didn’t base her looks on the negative comments her mother gave her over the years.

After Grandma Stephy and Indigo pull out onto the street, I hike up the driveway, towing two of my four bags with me.

I can do this. I’m Super Confident Girl, who fears no evil, who skinny-dips in the hotel pool late at night, and who dances at overcrowded clubs and kisses guys on Ferris wheels.

By the time I reach the backdoor, though, Super Confident Girl has turned into Freak the Fuck Out Girl. I let go of the bags and stare at the door.

“You can do this, Isa. Just walk on in and tell them to go . . .” I bite down on my lip as fear pulsates through me.

“Tell them to go what?” Kai’s amused voice sails over my shoulder.

I sigh. Great. Just what I need right now. Intense, jokester guy next door who never texted me back.

“I was going to say go fuck themselves,” I answer, turning around to face him.

He’s rocking his typical look—a pair of shorts with no shirt. His blond hair’s a hot mess, and an amused grin is playing at his lips. But the smile vanishes as he presses his lips together. His gaze skims across the boots, black floral dress, and leather jacket I’m wearing, lingering uncomfortably long on my bare legs. When his eyes land on my face, I feel like that poser again, the one who stepped out onto the streets of Paris wearing that red dress. The feeling has faded over the last few months, but it was easier to be confident with who I am now when I was in a club full of strangers who didn’t know about my let-my-clothes-swallow-me-up-and-fade-me-into-the-background-of-my-sister’s-shadow phase.

“You look . . .” A somewhat perplexed, somewhat intrigued look crosses his face, and I seriously get a little excited over what’s about to come out of his mouth. “Weird.”

“Oh, for the love of God.” I turn back to my suitcases. Seriously. Seriously? All that changing and shaving and tweezing, and I get weird again.

“Hey, I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” he says, but I can hear him chuckling. “Seriously, Isa. I’m sorry.”

I hear a thump and then the sound of footsteps heading my way. I spin back around then stumble back when I realize Kai is way up in my personal space.

“It sounded a lot better in my head,” he says to me as I regain my footing. “But hearing it aloud . . . yeah, I’m thinking weird might not be a compliment.”

“It’s fine.” I brush him off. “But, just for future reference, maybe you should repeat your compliments in your head a few times before saying them aloud.”

“Duly noted.” He smiles again, going right back to his goofy, jokester self. “You know, that photo you sent me didn’t do you any justice. I mean, I could tell you looked different, but not this different.”

I consider asking him why he never texted me back, but don’t want to give him an opportunity to crack a joke about me obsessing over him.

“So, was the trip everything you hoped it would be and more?” he asks lightly.

I get whiplash from his sudden shift to formality, but whatever. “Yeah, it was pretty great. I seriously wish I could’ve stayed longer.” Forever maybe.

“Where did you even go? You said overseas, but that could be a ton of places.”

“That’s because we went a ton of places.” A smile touches my lips as I remember all the places I saw, all the people I met, how great I felt while on that trip. “But my favorite was probably Scotland.”

He goes all bug-eyed. “Holy shit, you went to Scotland? I thought when you said you were going with your grandma that you’d go somewhere cliché like Paris.”

“I did go to Paris too, with my grandmother and my cousin, Indigo, along with an entire old folks home,” I say, shooting him a smile when he raises his brows like what the hell? “And FYI, Paris is awesome, and so are old people.”

“Maybe it was just you that made the trip and Paris cool,” he teases with a cocky grin.

I stick my finger into my mouth and pretend to gag. “That line was sooo cheesy.”