Chapter 3: Isabelle

As soon as the bell rings to signal class is over, I’m out of the room and speed walking to Hannah’s locker. Thankfully, she’s there. “You are not going to believe what happened.”

She hangs her backpack on the hook in her locker. “Yeah, I hope you have a good reason for skipping chorus.” She closes her locker and turns to look at me, arms crossed. “Cam spent the entire period staring at the door, waiting for you to show up.”

“Wait. What? I have Senior Spanish first period.” I dig out my schedule to double check, just to be sure. “Chorus is fifth period.”

“Not anymore. Didn’t you get the email yesterday? They moved chorus to first period. Something about a scheduling conflict.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yup”

Great. That means I’m going to have to go back to the office to figure out what’s up with my schedule. “So, Cam is mad?”

She shakes her head. “I think he’s more worried than anything.”

I groan. Can this day get any worse? Walking beside Hannah, I triple check my schedule. “Okay, well, I have a study hall this period. I guess I’m going to see my guidance counselor.” I blow out a breath. My senior year is supposed to be perfect—easy schedule, classes with my boyfriend and best friend, all the fun stuff only seniors get to do—but nope. Instead, I almost get run over, I’m paired up with the guy who tried to kill me, and my schedule is a mess.

“Have you seen Andrea yet today?” Hannah asks as we near the end of the hall.

“No. Have you?”

“No. I’m texting her now.” She pulls her phone from her back pocket.

A flash of curly, black hair catches my attention. I smack Hannah’s arm. “There she is— Andrea!” I shout down the hallway, ignoring the dirty looks I get.

Andrea stops, rises up on her tiptoes to see over the crowd, and then waves. She weaves through the throngs of people and stops in front of us.

I throw my arms around her in a hug. “Oh, my goodness! It’s been forever since I’ve seen you! You have to tell me about your trip!”

But Andrea doesn’t return the affection. I might as well be hugging a mannequin. She stands stiffly, arms at her sides. I release her, stepping back. What’s going on with her?

Hannah steps in to hug Andrea. I don’t miss how Andrea hugs her back. A mix of emotions swirls inside of me. Did I do something to make her mad? Does Andrea like Hannah that much more than me? Is she tired of always making sure I’m okay? Does she think I’ll never be fun again without Brandon around?

“Where have you been?” Hannah asks, stepping back.

“Around.” Andrea shrugs. She doesn’t so much as glance in my direction. “My schedule is crazy this year. I’m trying to double up on some classes, hoping maybe I can graduate a semester early.”

I nod. I can't let her behavior bug me too much. I know she’s struggling with the fact that she’s only a junior. Andrea should have been a senior with Hannah and me, but thanks to a nasty case of mono in ninth grade, she missed most of her freshman year and had to repeat it. The first bell rings, disrupting our impromptu reunion.

“I’ll see you guys later, okay?” Andrea’s words fade as she walks away.

I turn to Hannah. “Is it just me, or is she acting weird?”

“She seemed fine to me.”

Of course she did—Andrea didn’t snub Hannah—but I don’t have time to worry about it right now. Second period awaits. I slip my schedule into my back pocket. “Hey, if you see Cam, will you tell him what happened with my schedule?” I don’t need him mad at me on top of Andrea and everything else.

“Of course.” She turns to the right.

I’ve only taken a few steps in the other direction when I hear my name. I turn around.

“You never told me what happened,” Hannah says.

I laugh. “I’ll tell you later.”

It can wait until I see her at lunch. Cam will be there, too, but he’ll be talking baseball with his friends, as usual. Hannah and I will have plenty of time to talk. Right now, I need to get my schedule straightened out. I step into the guidance office just as the bell rings.

“Oh, hey, Isabelle.” Erica, the secretary, smiles. Then her smile fades, replaced with the one look I can’t stand—pity. She leans forward and softens her expression, as if that will somehow lessn the sting of her question. “How are you?”

“Fine.” I don’t bother to hide the irritation in my tone. “I think my schedule is mixed up. Is Mr. Peters available?”

“Yep. You can go right on in.” Erica jabs a thumb over her shoulder.

“Thanks.” I step around her desk and make my way down the short hall to Mr. Peters’s office. His door is open, so I peek my head in. “Excuse me, Mr. Peters?”

He looks up. “Come on in.” He waves me in and motions at one of the empty chairs. There are four of them, I guess in case parents come in. I’m more than thankful to handle my scheduling conflicts without my parents’ input. My mother—drunk, slurring, and belligerent—would create a whole different kind of conflict. “So, what brings you here this morning?”

I slide my schedule across his desk. “Well, I’m supposed to have chorus fifth period, but I just found out it’s been moved to first period. When I have SeniorSpanish.”

He grabs his glasses from the corner of his desk and slips them on. He studies my schedule for a moment and then taps away at his keyboard. “Ah, I see what happened.” He takes his glasses off and returns them to their corner. “Mrs. Monroe had a scheduling conflict and can only be in the building in the morning, so we had to move chorus to first period.”

My shoulders slump. “Okay, so what am I supposed to do? I was really looking forward to chorus this year.”

He sighs. “I know. You should’ve received an email.”

“I didn’t get anything.”

“Well, you can drop SeniorSpanish and take chorus if you want. But”—he folds his hands on top of the desk—“considering your college plans, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

Canyon College is my dream. With one of the best Spanish programs in the area, Canyon will more than prepare me for a future as an interpreter or maybe a bilingual tour guide. I need this extra Spanish class… But my friends are in chorus. I lean back in my seat and let out a huff. “So, I have to choose between my friends and my future.”

“SeniorSpanish will look much better on your college application,” Mr. Peters says.

“Yeah, I know.” I sigh. Dropping Spanish would also mean dropping Grayson as a partner, and right now, that’s the biggest advantage. Sure, he’s more attractive than any guy in this building—Cam included—but he’s smug and arrogant and dangerous. Being around him won't be good for my future. I'll either get charged with assault or… No, that's stupid talk. I’m dating Cam. Steady, faithful, worrying Cam. The best thing I can do is stay away from Grayson Alexander. I don’t need his kind of disruption in my life; I’ve had enough disruption already.

“Are you still singing in your church choir?” Mr. Peters asks, snapping me from my thoughts.

“Yeah, why?”

“Then stay in Senior Spanish. You can list your church choir as an extracurricular activity.”

He makes a good point.

“But, it’s up to you.” Mr. Peters leans back in his chair.

I’ve worked so hard the past three years. So what if there’s a slight blip in my schedule? It’s not the end of the world. I can still do everything I need to have a normal life—graduate, go to college, get a good job, marry Cam, and live a respectable Christian life. I take a deep breath. “Okay, I’m staying in Spanish.”

I can keep Grayson at a distance. Why should I let some strange boy ruin my dreams?

“I think that’s a smart decision. So, let’s see what we can find for you to take during fifth period.” He goes back to his computer and starts tapping at his keyboard again.

Twenty minutes later, I have a new schedule with Film as Literature during fifth period and a late pass. Before I can escape to class, Mr. Peters tilts his head and frowns—the universal sign for the question I hate so much.

“How are you doing, Isabelle? Are you doing okay with everything? It hasn’t been that long since—”

I hold up my hand to stop him. “I’m fine. Really.” I stand, hoping he gets the hint I don’t want a grief therapy session.

“Right. Of course. Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks.” I leave and head to study hall. When I arrive, I give the monitor my pass and scan the room for an empty seat. In the back, Grayson waves. Of course he’s here. I quickly look away, praying I find another empty seat. No such luck. This is what I get for being late.

I shuffle to the back of the room and take the seat next to Grayson. My body is tense, and every nerve is on edge. With his dark hair so messy and windblown, he looks like he just arrived from a modeling shoot. I close my eyes and inhale deeply—he smells of leather and soap and the ocean, which is nothing at all like Cam, who always smells of pine and parchment. I have to stop comparing those two. I picture Cam’s smiling face and focus all my attention on that, but Grayson shifts in his seat, and his arm bumps mine. A shiver wiggles up my spine.

My eyes snap open. I jerk an inch to the left, away from Grayson. It’s not like I have any homework I can work on to distract myself. This is going to be the longest fifty minutes of my life.

Grayson elbows me. “Hey, we should make it a date.”

“What?” I can’t bring myself to look at him. Did he seriously just ask me out?

“Our Spanish presentation.” He twists in his chair so he’s facing me. “ said we’ll get a better grade if we’re creative. So, I was thinking, we could do a skit. You and me on a date in our chosen location.”

I slowly force myself to look at him. His green eyes are sparkling and full of excitement, and it’s impossible not to get lost in them. “A date?”

“Yeah. Think about it. We can go to dinner, which will meet the requirement for the food. Then we can go dancing. We’ll finish the night with a stroll through town, which we can use to talk about everything else.”

It’s a good idea—a really good idea—and I’m sure it will result in an A. But going on a fake date with Grayson in front of the class? Just thinking about that makes my stomach churn. And what will Cam think? Fake or not, something like this will hurt his feelings.

“Well?” he asks.

I nervously chew on the inside of my cheek. Getting an A in this class is so important. And it’s just a presentation. It doesn’t mean anything. After a moment, I nod. “I think it’s a really great idea.”

“Awesome.” He smiles. “Any idea what place you want to choose?”

I scrunch up my face. “I haven’t thought about it. Do you have any ideas?”

“Hey, I came up with the presentation idea. Picking the place is up to you.”

“Okay, I’ll have an answer for you tomorrow in class.”

“Good.” He holds his hands up in a show of surrender. “Because if I have to do this whole thing on my own, I’m requesting a new partner.”

I stare at him. Is he for real? We literally got the assignment thirty minutes ago. “Don’t worry. I’ll do my fair share.” There’s an edge to my tone, but I don’t care.

“All right,” he says with a slow nod. “Well, here’s to a lucrative partnership, Belle the Bible Thumper.”

I scowl. “My name’s Isabelle, and I’m not a Bible thumper.” Just because I go to church doesn’t mean I shove my beliefs down people’s throats. And so what if Grayson thinks I carry a Bible around with me? It was my brother’s most prized possession, and until two hours ago, I thought it was lost for good. Now that I have it back, I can’t stand the thought of not keeping it close to me.

He’s silent for a moment, and I risk a glance at him. Head tilted, he narrows his eyes. “No one ever calls you Belle?”

“Nope.” Not in a very long time, anyway, and I want to keep it that way.

“Hmm.”

“Do people call you Gray?” I ask.

“Sometimes.” He shrugs. “Why? Is that what you want to call me?”

“No. But if you’re going to insist on calling me Belle the Bible Thumper, I’m calling you the Motorcycle Maniac.”

He flings his head back and laughs loudly, earning us a dirty look from the room monitor. Grayson cups his hand over his mouth, and despite my determination to dislike him, I find myself laughing right along with him. For the first time in longer than I can remember, the gaping, grief-filled hole in my chest and my absentee father and my drunk mother fade into the background, and I fully embrace the moment.

“Okay, fair enough.” Grayson catches his breath, and everything comes rushing back to me. I can’t be this girl, the girl who laughs without a care, the girl who flirts with a dangerous boy, the girl who does anything outside what’s expected of her—there’s no room for that girl in my world.

I’m Isabelle Carson. Straight A student dating the pastor’s son. Perfect daughter. Perfect friend. Respectable member of the church. Choir singer. This is who I was. This is who I shall—I must—remain.

How are you, Isabelle?

I’m fine. Perfectly fine.

No one on the outside looking in could guess the truth.

But I know.

I lost everything the day my brother died, and now I’m barely keeping things together. But I have to. For myself. My parents. This lie of a life is all I have left.