Chuckling, he brushed his brown hair out of his eyes. “Why would I ever want to trick you, Isabella? I have no reason to.”

My insides quivered at the sound of my name leaving his lips. The last time he had any social interaction with me was when I was in the third grade and he stopped some of his friends from picking on me, including Hannah.

My gaze darted around the mostly vacant parking lot as I searched for a blonde-haired girl hiding out somewhere, laughing her ass off. “Did my sister put you up to this?”

He swiftly shook his head. “I swear to God it’s not a trick. I just wanted to do something nice.”

I still didn’t take the rose, worried the moment I accepted his gift, my sister would show herself and laugh at me. Knowing her, she’d probably have her Super Bitchy Cheer Pod People with her, who’d be ready to take pictures of my mortification.

“Isa.” He dipped his head to make eye contact with me, not because I’m super short—I’m actually above average height—but he’s like one-step-away-from-not-making-the-parking-garage-clearance tall. “I swear to you this is just one neighbor giving another neighbor a gift with no tricks attached.”

A neighborly gift? I almost frowned. But it was a completely selfish, Hannah-like reaction, so I sucked it up, took the rose, and even managed a smile. “Thanks.”

He smiled, and my heart did an Irish tap dance. “You’re welcome.” He didn’t leave right away, and it seemed like he wanted to say more. “Hey, so I have to ask you for a favor.” He paused, hesitant. “And you can totally say no, but . . . I really need to work on my free shot for tryouts next season, and since you won that contest and were pretty badass, I thought you and I could practice together. Maybe you could teach me a few pointers.”

Is Kyler seriously asking me to help him improve his basketball skills? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. On one hand, I was excited that I had an opportunity to spend time with him. On the other hand, it made me feel like he saw me as one of the guys.

“Sure,” I replied with a small smile.

“Thanks.” He looked relieved. “Wanna meet at my house tomorrow morning?”

I nodded and he threw me another smile before he turned around and headed toward the football field, located between the middle school and high school.

I stared down at the rose, wondering what the gesture meant—if it meant anything—and spent the next couple of weekends obsessing about every other gesture he did during our practices. Like when he brought me a doughnut or we spent a couple of hours after practice watching a movie. Part of me wonders if he was just being friendly, while another small part of me hoped it meant more.

He even opened up to me a time or two.

“Sometimes I feel like I have to be good all the time—because that’s how everyone expects me to be,” he muttered after his dad had come home and spent over a half an hour critiquing Kyler while he made basket after basket.

“I’m sure no one expects you to be that way,” I said as we sat on his porch steps, drinking lemonade, our clothes soaked with sweat. “No one can be good all the time.”

“Yeah, I know.” He scratched his arm, staring at the driveway. “But sometimes it feels like the whole school doesn’t see it that way. Like I have to be that guy who takes the team to the championships, who gets good grades, who’s happy all the damn time, even when things get shitty. My parents expect that too.” His hand fell to his lap and he caught my gaze from out of the corner of his eye. “My dad especially. Sometimes it feels like he’s trying to live his dreams through me. Sometimes I wish I could just stop.”

“Stop being that guy?”

“Stop being the guy who’s happy all the time and just be normal.”

“Normal is overrated,” I mumbled. “Trust me.”

“Yeah, maybe. But I’ll never know, since I’ve never felt like anything about my life is normal.” He sighed tiredly then shook his head. “You probably think I’m a douchebag, sitting here complaining about my perfect life.”

“You’re fine. It’s okay to complain about life. Everyone gets tired of being who they are at some point.” I picked at my fingernails. “And it’s okay to change. You know, if you really want to.”

He only nodded with his brows furrowed, like the idea greatly confused him. Then he released a breath and leaned back on his elbows. “Thanks for being such a great listener.” Then he leaned over and did something amazing. He kissed me on the corner of my lips. “You’re so much different than anyone else I know. I feel like I can be myself when I’m around you.”

His words meant a lot to me, but the kiss damn near caused me to stop breathing. It was more than just magical. It was out-of-this-realm amazing. The problem was once he got better at free shots, we stopped practicing, and our movie/doughnut/heart-to-heart time ended too. Kyler went back to being the perfect popular guy everyone expected him to be. Yeah, he still smiled and waved to me whenever he saw me, and talked to me during school sometimes, but that was about as far as our friendship ever went. He still sometimes sticks up for me, though, when someone is harassing me at school.

“What the hell was that?” Hannah combs her fingers through her hair then her face pinches in disgust as she stares at the chocolate in her hand. “Oh, my God! Is that bird shit?!”

“Um,” Kyler hesitantly glances up at me, and then his gaze drops to her hand. “It could be,” he says, even though he witnessed me spit out the chocolate.

He glimpses up at me and we exchange a look. I know he won’t rat me out. He’s not like that. He’s still that nice guy, who wins championships and gets good grades—the guy who everyone loves and who I know secretly wishes he didn’t have to be. Although, I sometimes wonder if he still wants to be different. Over the years, he’s seemed to grow into his position as being the popular guy everyone loves.

“Isa!” Hannah screeches from the driveway, jerking me away from one of my favorite memories. “Are you listening to me?”

“I wasn’t, but now I am,” I say, blinking at her.

She grunts, stomping her foot again. “Did you just spit something in my hair?”

Call it payback for that stunt she pulled at the dinner table, but honestly, I don’t feel that bad.

“Sorry, but the candy had almonds in it and I panicked.” I shrug. “I really hate almonds.”

“Oh, my God! You’re such a freak!” She stomps her feet several more times, throwing one of her infamous Beauty Queen Tantrums.

I feel sickly satisfied when Kyler covers his mouth with his hand to hide his laughter.

“I’m going to get you back for this,” she threatens, crossing her arms and giving me her notorious death glare. “Just wait. When I get done with you, even the janitor’s closet isn’t going to be safe.”

“Hey, calm down.” Kyler touches her arm. “It’s just candy. I’m sure it’ll wash out. And Isa didn’t mean to. I saw the whole thing. It was an accident.”

I kinda wish I really was a zombie, so I could have a legit excuse to shimmy down the railing and gnaw off her arm he’s touching.

Hannah takes a few breaths with her eyes narrowed on me, and then she spins toward Kyler, plastering on a plastic smile. “Wait for me while I go wash my hair. Then we can leave for the party.”

“Sure. I’ll just go shoot some hoops in my driveway or something.” He backs down the driveway toward the end of the fence.

Only when he turns his back to us does Hannah lock her glare back on me. You’re dead, she mouths.

Eventually she’ll make due on her threat, probably at school, when I least expect it. God, how I wish UW was farther than a ten minute drive and she had to go live at college. But nope, she’s staying here, at least for a while.

Le sigh. Story of my life.

I probably should be majorly concerned over what she’s going to do to me, but honestly, my reputation at school can’t get any worse. So, I focus on something better, something that’ll cheer me up.