Isabela

**today**


It feels like I’ve been hit by a truck. My stomach hurts, and it feels like I hit my head against the wall, it throbs so much. When my eyes open, I barely have time to focus on the perfect ceiling with Van Gogh’s Starry Night painted on it. A wave of nausea hits me hard, and the only thing I can do is lean over and vomit on the floor next to the bed.
It feels like I’m expelling all my guts into the bucket that small hands just positioned beneath me, right on time. I’m so screwed. And in his room...
I can remember everything: the cuts, the party, and the reckless brownie I devoured.
My last memories are of being with Nate, him putting me to sleep after taking care of me.
I hold my stomach, trying to make my eyes stop watering because the force that makes my stomach expel its contents burns them. After a few more doses of humiliation dumped into the bucket, I push it away from my face to avoid the smell of my own vomit making me feel worse.
“Do you want some water?”
I don’t know if my eyes burn more from rage, pain, or helplessness. Seeing that bitch Bianca standing in front of me, and not having the strength to fly at her throat, feels incredibly unfair. Damn it, I was dreaming of confronting her... Now, fate has made me miserable and weak enough to barely raise an eyebrow.
“Shove the water up your—”
“Hey! Calm down, girl!” She laughs and steps back a little as I try to swat the object holding my waste.
Shaking her head and giggling, Nate’s twin walks toward the bathroom. I curse her with all sorts of filthy names as I hear her flush the toilet and then turn on the shower.
I try to get up, dodging the discomfort in my body. That son of a bitch left me in the care of his psychopathic sister, who could very well have suffocated me in my sleep. I manage to stand, but a wave of dizziness makes me feel like a spinning top. My head spins, my body weakens, and I stumble forward completely. I could have smashed my face against the floor, but that damn girl won’t let that happen, holding me up before I can hit the bedroom floor.
I cry from anger at being helped by her as she gently leads me back to the bed. It feels like a parallel reality, as if I’ve woken up in a nightmare where I can’t strangle the bitch who ruined my life. Seeing her here, playing the good Samaritan, makes me boil with rage.
“Where’s Nate?” My question comes out as a weak sob, and I don’t know if this little woman knows I’m crying because I wish I could punch her, but I can’t, and that makes me very sad.
Damn brownie! If I’d known the price would be being at the mercy of Bianca, I wouldn’t have left my house. I would have slept with my broken heart after stitching my wrists in the clinic, but in my own bed.
“Well, basically my brother freaked out and said you two are going to ‘live together.’ So he’s running around like a madman, having some drywall torn down in the empty floor at the top of the administration building to make a sort of loft for you two.” She shrugs, as if she hasn’t just said the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.
“I’m not living with him, hell no!” I let out a growl, followed by a sob and a huge pang in my temples from the nausea. “Aaaaah! This is infuriating! I can’t even get high like a normal person!” I scream at my messed-up body.
That jerk has been kicking me out of here for weeks, and now he comes with this nonsense about living with me? Nate told me to be invisible to him, he messed with my mind to the point that I became so unstable I ended up using that stupid brownie, and now I’m completely wrecked.
And who cares if it’s cute that he wants us to be together? Who cares that I love Revolta, and who cares that he doesn’t know I made a bid to buy it yesterday in an email to his father before coming to the Woods?
I only intend to buy the shares because I don’t want this amazing place to die. Because... I love Nate enough not to want the most beautiful thing he built to be swept away like dust in the wind.
I have more than enough money to buy twice the amount his father is asking, and still have the kids I’ll never have wiping their butts with what’s left.
I’ve analyzed the shares of this place ever since Nate told me it was one of the owners. I tasked one of my company managers with creating a balance sheet for this college, and he gave me an incredible report, showing how Revolta is much more profitable than it seems. So, it’s an investment, too.
When I sent the offer to Vinicius Dumont yesterday, there was a crazy vengeful side of me wanting to yell at Nate that he could never kick me out of here again. But that was just a lame excuse.
I was desperate not to end up far away from him again. If he loses this place, I know he will hate me in an irreparable way. And I messed up big time with the dinner; I want to and will fix it.
Nate is the only guy I’ve ever really loved. My disobedient body only accepts him. It’s amazing how he’s always been able to turn off my phobia. How can I think about staying away when all I want is to be in his arms? I desire that every moment. He never leaves my head. It drives me insane. So I’ve made up my mind; I will do everything to buy the part of Revolta that’s for sale. And if Nate doesn’t like it, he can go to hell. I don’t intend to change anything, alter any detail. On the contrary, I thought of a way to do things so that he doesn’t feel threatened by me and understands that I’m not doing this to harm or annoy him.
Yesterday, when I was high, I accused him of cheating on me, and Nate denied it. He refuted that he didn’t cheat on me with anyone. He acted like he owed me explanations, even though that’s not true. He’s not my boyfriend; it’s quite the opposite. We fought because I understood he was asking me to be his girlfriend, and Nate made it clear that he wasn’t. Even so, I felt stabbed by that video. I was so angry, desperate, and jealous that I ended up using my wrists to escape the intensity that screamed inside me.