Page 81 of My Infatuation with Isabella

“Hello, sister.”

“Hi,” she greets back with a giggle.

“Open this when you’re alone.” He hands me the gift, then nods his head toward his sister. “She’s been nagging me to meet you. So...Bella, this is Dana. Dana, Bella.”

“You look very different without a garden spade in your hand,” she says.

Well, that was obviously not a great first impression. “A spade doesn’t really go with this outfit,” I quip.

“So, where are we going?” Tommy’s voice startles me, and I turn around to face him.

“Tom, what are you doing here?”

“Do you honestly think I would let you come down here by yourself to meet a guy you don’t know? I was hiding behind that pillar over there to make sure you were safe.”

“You’re sweet, Tom, but what would you have done if Brock turned out to be some psycho?”

“I would’ve called Dylan. Duh! So, where are we going?”

“Uh...you’re not invited,” Dylan says awkwardly.

“I am now. Look at all this cuteness sitting in the backseat.”

Dylan smiles, but he’s gritting his teeth beneath it. “That’s my sister, Tom.”

“Doesn’t make herlesscute.”

I haven’t said one word to Tommy about Dana, so he doesn’t know her history. To be frank, I don’t really either. From what Dylan has told me, I’m guessing it’s some kind of abuse. I’m not sure if it was physical or sexual or both, but that’s just me speculating because all he said was someone hurt her. He’s been very scarce with the details. Tommy has no idea that he shouldn’t be...Tommy around her.

Dana steps in to break the tension. “It’s okay if he comes along,” she says, sliding to the opposite side so he can climb in.

“So, what’s your name, cuteness?” Tommy asks as he hops in.

“It’s Dana.”

Dylan shuts the door, then lightly thumps his fist on the window. If I thought he was fiercely protective of me, this is an entirely new level. His jaw is tight. His body is tense.

“Relax,” I say calmly. “He’s just being Tommy.”

“Yeah, but he’s the type to hook up with a different person every week and?”

“He wouldn’t even try that with your sister.”

He still seems skeptical, but he lets out a slow breath and helps me into the front seat. After he hops in, he drives us to a small café on a quiet street. Tommy and I sit on the opposite side of Dana and Dylan. We order fries to share. It takes a while for Tommy and I to adjust to Dana. She feels like she knows us because she listens to the show every day too, but we don’t know her just yet, and...she takes a bit of getting used to. She can be quite abrasive when she speaks and doesn’t even flinch with remorse if she says something offensive, so it’s difficult for us to figure out when she’s joking. The answer is...she’s always joking. Very much like Dylan and his parents, so I should’ve expected it.

“So, Dana, what do you do?” Tommy asks. “Are you working, studying?”

She takes a big slurp of her milkshake. “Neither at the moment. I’m thinking of enrolling in a summer program in fashion design. I think if I had to pursue that as a career, I would dedicate my life to helping people like you. You are in dire need of assistance.”

“How very charitable of you,” he responds with a chuckle. “I can be a pro-bono client of yours. But first, you need to help yourself and stop dressing like you shop at Goths-R-Us.”

“It’s better than all this color you’ve got.” She reaches across the table to tug the sleeve of his Hawaiian floral print shirt. “Honestly, dude, what are you even wearing?”

“I like to feel like I’m on holiday all the time.”

“I think there’s a thin line between the homeless vibe and the holiday vibe.” She turns her attention to me. “I love your fashion sense, though...and your hairstyle. Who braids your hair like that?”

I touch the French braids on the side of my head. “I do it myself.”

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