Chapter One
“Don’t move,” he whispered. The next thing I knew, I was in a dark alleyway with him. James Dumahal, my high school crush, was talking to me. Me! I—
Out of the blue, my alarm starts blaring. 6:30 am? Ugh, 5 more minutes, please. Instead of complaining, I decided to just get up and walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth. It was the middle of the semester, and my mom would have a cow if I was late for college. Since it was October, getting dressed for school was going to be a snap. I decided to wear a white cotton sweater, black leggings with knee-high black heeled boots.
Since the campus wasn’t open until 8 and I was already late, even though it was only six forty-five, I decided to drive to Starbucks and buy breakfast. While I grab my stuff, I accidentally bumped into a guy and my coffee fell onto the floor and on me. “Whoa, I am so sorry!” he replied while quickly grabbing napkins to clean up. “I am such a klutz.” We both bent down to pick up the cup and as our hands brushed up against each other, we both felt an electric shock. Our eyes locked and I gasped. Wow, I thought. He’s gorgeous.
“T-Thanks for helping me . . .” I stammered. What was wrong with me? I didn’t even know the guy and he was making stutter like a schoolgirl on prom night. We both got up from the floor.
“James.” He held out his hand.
“Isabelle,” I said as I shook his hand feeling his strong yet sweet-like grip. I looked at my watch. “Oh crap, I got to go.” I hurriedly grabbed my bag and, opening the door, left the establishment.
“Wait!!” I turned around to see that James was walking towards me.
“Yes?” I asked. “Listen, I got to go. College.” I checked my phone. It was already 7:30. Great, now I’m going to be late. I checked my bag. “Oh, shoot, I can’t find my keys.” He held up his hand and there they were, dangling from his fingers.
“Looking for these?”
“How’d you get my keys?” I asked.
“You must’ve dropped them when you bumped into me.”
“Geez, thanks for the recap.” I grabbed the keys and, opening the car door of my beat-up old Chrysler Jeep, tried turning on the car, but it wouldn’t start. Damnit, I thought as I looked at my watch. 8 a.m. Great, now mom is going to kill me for being late. “Here, let me show you where my car is.”
“Wait, what?”
“I’ll drop you off.”
“I can’t get into the car with you, I don’t even know you,” I replied.
“Do you want to be late?”
“Good point. OK, let’s go.” I got out of the car and, locking the door, put my key into my purse and followed him to an off-white pearl 2005 Cadillac Escalade. “Whoa,” I said shockingly. “This is yours?”
“Yeah. Oh wait, let me.” He came towards me and, opening the door, helped me inside. Once we got on campus, which was only about 20 minutes away, but he drove fast so it wasn’t that far, he got out of the car and, once again, opened the door for me and helped me out. I accidentally tripped, knocking us and my stuff to the ground.
“I’m so sorry, I, ugh, I’m so clumsy.” I got on my knees and, hurriedly, started picking up my stuff to leave. Soon enough, I was late for my writing class. “I am so sorry, Mrs. Thatcher.”
“It’s ok, Isabelle. You’re right on time.” Did I mention that my mom is also my professor? Shocking, I know. The lecture starts when I see James coming inside.
“Mr. Dumahal, what are you doing here? You don’t have my class today.”
“Well, Isabelle left this in my car.” I immediately went to retrieve the black beanie when my mom gave me the look: furrowed eyebrows and her green eyes piercing into my very soul meaning that we should talk after class.
“Thanks, James,” I say as I grab the beanie, put it on, and head back to my seat. The class begins again but my mind is elsewhere.
45 minutes after class . . .
After everyone leaves and I am the only one, my mom comes up to me. “What was that?”
I scoffed. “What do you care?”
“I don’t have time for this.” She starts walking towards her desk.
“That’s what I thought. You never have time for me.” I stormed out of class, my eyes flowing with tears, my mom not even looking up from the papers she was grading. Again, I bumped into James.
“Whoa, I’m sorry,” I stuttered, not looking where I was going.
“Hey, are you OK? You seem like the professor yelled at you or something.” I couldn’t talk because I had a lump in my throat, so I just nodded. “Are you sure you’re OK?” I shook my head. He looked around. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered in my ear.
I looked up at him, my cheeks stained with tears. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. Now come on, I want to cheer you up.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I’m going to take you on a date.”
“But why? I don’t even know you.”
“We’ll see about that.” He winked and headed towards the car. Intrigued, I decided to follow him, but I suddenly felt someone pull my arm. I didn’t have to look; I knew it was my mom.
“Mom!! What are you doing?!” I asked as soon as we were standing in front of her classroom.
“I forbid you to date James.”
“But why?” I smiled sarcastically. “Let me guess: he’s my stepbrother?” I chuckled.
“As a matter of fact, Isabelle, he is.”
__
“Wait, what? How? I-I was just making a joke.”
“I’ll tell you when I get home.” Ugh, and she pulled me away from James to tell me that he’s my stepbrother. What is this, Clueless? I went directly to him. “Hey.”
“Hey, what’d the professor want?”
“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk about. She told me you’re my stepbrother,” I laughed but he had a serious look on my face, and I immediately stopped. “Don’t tell me it’s true. You really are my stepbrother?” He nodded. “I think I need to sit down.” We both sat down on the bench that was far away from anyone. “So how are we related?”
“Our dad cheated on your mom with my mom.”
I breathed deeply, careful not to scare away James. “Wow. Now I know why my mom is so closed off.”
“Wait, the professor is your mom? Wow.” I nodded, agreeing with him.
“Unfortunately, yes. I guess we can’t date.”
“Actually, there’s no law that prohibits it.”
“What about my mom?”
“Let me handle that.” He kissed my forehead and went to talk to my mom. I saw him walk away. The door was open but there was no one there. “Mrs. Thatcher?” He walked into the classroom and saw her kissing a woman.
“Mom?” I came into the room hoping to see James talking to my mom, but instead, I caught her making out with the P.E teacher, Mrs. Neremont. “Oh my god. You’re cheating on dad.” They stopped making out, lipstick smeared all over their lips, in time to see us, horrified.
“Please don’t tell your father.”
“Wait, you’re more worried about me not telling dad and yet you don’t give a damn about me?” I scoffed. “Typical,” I muttered under my breath.
“Maybe I should go,” Mrs. Neremont said.
“No, don’t leave, Mrs. Neremont, that’s fine,” My eyes, black as night, glared with anger towards my mom. “Because I’m leaving, for good.” I left instantly and started walking to the Starbucks to grab my car and drive, drive far away so that I could think clearly. But then I remembered that my car wouldn’t start so I screamed. “Fuck!”
“Isabelle!! Isabelle, wait up!!” James called, running after me. “Where are you going?”
“Far away, James. Far away.” I said through gritted teeth. “But then, I remembered that my car is broken so I can’t go anywhere.”
“Killing yourself isn’t the answer,” James said, reading my mind.
He’s right, I thought. My tears started shedding down my cheeks. “You’re right,” I said in between sobs. He stood in front of me, grabbed my face with his hands, and wiped away my tears with his thumb, hugging me, telling me everything was going to be fine.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“You what?”
“I do. I really do.”
“We’re step-siblings, James,” I finally found my car but, unfortunately, the car wouldn’t start. “Ugh, can this day get any worse?!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
“Here.” He came towards me and, checking the engine, did something to the car. “Here, try it now.”
I grabbed the keys and turned it on. “How did you do that?” I asked, surprised.
“Well, I’ll tell you about it if you agree to dinner tonight?” he asked. “Goodbye, Isabelle,” he winked and walked back to the school. I shrugged it off and, opening the car door, got in, and drove home.
