The Ties That Started It All (The Ties Book 3)

5: Lab Partners

~ Monday ~

Daniel

I thought about Isabella all weekend long. How long has she liked me? I’m used to girls throwing themselves at me, but why hasn’t she made a move, especially if she likes me that much? A gorgeous girl like that can’t be that shy.

I slowly walk behind Isabella and her friend, studying them both. Isabella steps into the classroom, smiling. She then says something in Spanish to her friend and makes her way to a seat.

“Heyy lab partner,” I greet and smile at her, taking the seat beside her..

“Hi,” she shyly greets back.

“So uh, you speak Spanish,” I ask. “I heard you say something in Spanish before coming into class.”

“Yeah, I’m fluent. You don’t,” Isabella asks, puzzled.

“I don’t,” I sigh and weakly smile at her.

“Oh, I’m sorry. With the last name Lopez, I- I assumed you spoke Spanish,” she apologizes and turns red.

“No, it’s all good. Uh, my mom was Mexican, but she died when I was a kid… so I never learned the language. My dad is white and he never learned it,” I anxiously explain, tapping my pencil on the table.

I get nervous any time I talk about my mom. She died right before my fifth birthday and there’s not much I remember about her.

“Okay so, your dad is white,” Isabella nods. “That means you have your mother’s last name because I don’t know many white people with the name Lopez.”

“Yeah,” I laugh and nod. “My parents were never married, so I got her last name because Daniel Hardy didn’t sound good to her,” I half laugh.

“Same! My mom is Puerto Rican and obviously my dad is black. My parents were married, but my mom never took my dad’s last name. She also thought Andres, Annabelle, and Isabella Ramirez sounded better than Morgan. My dad picked up a little Spanish, but his pronunciation is horrible,” Isabella laughs indulgently and plays with her hair.

We both laugh together and I am captivated by her beautiful smile and adorable laugh.

“Wait, you said Annabelle,” I befuddledly blurt, realizing what she said.

“Yeah, Annabelle Ramirez is my older sister.”

“Annabelle Ramirez, the cheer captain? That’s your sister??”

“Yeah,” Isabella confirms, nervously chuckling and widening her eyes in confusion.

“What,” I mumble mindlessly to myself. “This is crazy.”

“Are you okay,” Isabella asks. “You’re… scrunching your face.”

“Oh yeah. I’m fine,” I assure and clear my throat. “It’s crazy, ya know. I - I had no idea Annabelle was your sister.”

“All three of us are in a history class together. How did you not know? We have the same last name,” Isabella reasons.

“True, but,” I stammer, still baffled by this revelation, “plenty of people have the same last name and aren’t related. It’s just… I dunno. I would’ve never guessed you two were sisters,” I pause and stare at her. “Although now that I look at you, I can see the resemblance.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m dark like my dad. Andres and Annabelle took more after our mother. Annabelle is a lot prettier than me,” she states mopingly and holds her head down.

“Prettier than you? No way. Your darkness does not take away how pretty you are. It’s your beautiful skin that makes you so stunning,” I compliment.

“Really?? I - wow, um,” she stammers. “Thanks,” she blushes and smiles.

She’s flustered, so I change the subject so she doesn’t feel too uncomfortable.

“You got any plans for college?”

“I’m hoping to go to nursing school. My dream is to be a children’s nurse,” she says ambitiously and plays with her hair again.

“Good morning everyone,” Mr. Jones announces.

Class starts, so our conversation is cut short, but I continue to observe Isabella. She’s very studious, taking notes and actually paying attention to the teacher. I’ve never been with a girl like this. I’m so intrigued. The bell rings and before she can hurry out the door, I offer to have lunch with her because I’m anxious to know more about her.

We walk to the cafeteria together, and I can tell by the way she is walking she is extremely nervous. I see my buddy Kevin again, who is whooping like a maniac. Thankfully, Isabella doesn’t see him egging me on, or else she probably would’ve changed her mind about having lunch with me. I buy her and myself a chicken sandwich and she gets a fruit cup and a bottle of apple juice.

“So, Isabella how old are you,” I question after we sit at the table with our lunch.

“I’m fifteen. I’ll be sixteen in May.”

She’s younger than I expected.

“Oh yeah? Are you having a sweet sixteen,” I question.

“Well, I had a quinceañera, but my dad wants to give me a sweet sixteen, too. I guess that’s the perks of being biracial. I get to experience two cultures,” she smiles and goes back to eating her food.

“What’s a quinceañera?”

“In Hispanic culture, it’s like a sweet fifteen.”

“What makes fifteen so special?”

“Fifteen is the age a girl transitions to maturity. It’s literally a coming of age ballroom party,” she explains.

“Oh, so since you’re fifteen that means you’re a woman now, huh? I didn’t know that. That’s cool to know.”

“Yep,” she says, taking the last bite of her chicken sandwich.

“So if you’re only fifteen, why are you taking AP classes? Are you trying to graduate early too?”

“No, I don’t want to graduate early. I’m just trying to get extra credits I can apply toward nursing school. These credits will go toward my degree so I can focus on my core classes.”

I nod in approval at her theory. It’s actually genius to do. There’s a brief silence as we both eat our lunch.

“So uh… you… uh, said you were graduating early? How old are you,” Isabella peeps while playing with her hair again.

“I’m seventeen, but I’ll be eighteen in December.”

“Oh wow. I didn’t realize you were that old.”

“After my mom died, my dad had a hard time with everything and he didn’t enroll me in kindergarten in time, so I got a late start.”

“Ohhh, okay,” she replies and there’s silence between us again.

She finishes her food before me and I see her friend waving at her. She bids me goodbye and thanks me for having lunch with her.

“Hey wait,” I yell when she gets up from the table. “You like football? Do you come to any of our games?”

“I’ve maybe gone to one or two to support Annabelle,” she answers.

“Oh. Well, I’d love to see you at the homecoming game on Friday.”

“Sure, I’ll be there. See you later,” she says coyly, smiling before walking to her friend, who is full of excitement.

I go to Kevin who asks me all kinds of questions about Isabella. I don’t answer anything about her cause I’m too busy watching her gush to her friend as they walk down the hallway. Isabella seems like she has a good head on her shoulders. She’s not like the other girls that normally like me. She’s different and that’s what intrigues me so much.