Isabela Part 2
“I...”— I struggle to speak, commanding my trembling mouth to form words, even though I’m shocked by being touched by a boy again. “I didn’t see anything... I swear!” I whisper the lie, blinking away tears.
His scent invades me, with sandalwood notes filling the space. I observe him while trying to stop shaking under his touch. I’m frozen, and the only movement I make is the involuntary trembling. I inspect the face in front of me. His beautiful eyes, masculine nose of perfect size, and slightly plump lips hypnotize me. I’d say he has tempestuous yet gentle eyes, slightly slanted. Watching him brings me a small moment of calm. His straight, brown hair in a rebellious cut shines with the sunlight. It perfectly matches his thick eyebrows.
“Why are you crying? Are you okay?” he asks, causing a slight shock with the gentle and concerned tone in his voice.
“Because you’re holding me, and I’m scared!” I admit.
My honest words seem to shock him, so he gradually lets me go, leaving a strange feeling as he pulls away from my skin. He presses his lips into a thin line and then exhales exasperatedly. He seems to inspect the scratches on my cheeks. He’s a good-looking and tall boy for his age. I don’t know his name, but I saw him yesterday in class. He’s in the same grade as me, along with his twin sister. They just started at the school at the beginning of the second semester.
I’m shocked to realize that my reaction to him is calmer than to Caíque’s touch. I guess I’m too nervous, so the trigger wasn’t as intense. Plus, this guy only held my forearms, whereas the idiot in my class pressed his whole body against mine. Just remembering it makes me sick.
“What’s your name?” he asks, breaking my thoughts.
“Isabela. And yours?” Damn! Why did I ask his name? I don’t want any connection with this criminal.
“Nate! Isabela, here’s the thing, you’re not going to tell anyone what you saw!” he orders, staring at me with a threatening look.
“Don’t worry. I won’t, I swear!”
“If you do, I’ll say I saw you tagging the wall. So, it’ll be a case of he said, she said, and we’ll both be screwed with detention, got it?” he warns, taking a step toward me. I back away, nodding. “Also, I’ll make your life a living hell if you rat me out,” he threatens, taking two steps, making me back up two more. And we continue the dance: him coming toward me, me retreating from his advances, until I decide to run away for good.
When I get into my stepdad’s car and his personal driver starts the engine, I watch the angry boy standing by the huge blue school gates. He gives me the middle finger as the car pulls away.
I think I just made an enemy.
Nothing is so bad that it can’t get worse!
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