Isabela Part 2

I remember him yesterday saying that he loves me and cleaning my wounds, then filling me with kisses in bed while putting me to sleep. And how messed up am I for getting attached to that? For wishing it were true, that he would come into this damn room and be 1% closer to the Nate I fell for in 2015, and further away from the wolf I met this year?
“If it’s any consolation, everyone who eats a pot brownie gets messed up the first time. Some people end up messed up every time, so… welcome to the club, you junkie!” she says, waking me from my daydreams. Ugh, damn it, this bitch is still here. I had almost forgotten about her. She’s still in front of me, strategically holding the bucket to assist me with a future wave of nausea. My eyes are narrowed and fixed on her. I don’t like this version of Bianca, where she tries to be nice. “And good luck trying to convince your boyfriend that you’re not going to live together! He said you’re going to stay here until the work on ‘your house’ is done.”
“As far as I know, he’s nothing to me.” I shrug, pretending that there’s nothing good wishing she’s telling the truth. “And get out of here! We can’t stand each other. And you’re barking too loud; my temples are hurting,” I scoff, still filled with a lot of resentment inside my heart, poisoning it against Bianca.
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at that face without having flashes of the day my sandcastle crumbled, trampled by the same boy who helped me build it, because of her fault and interference.
I lean over and expel another dose of liquid.
“Dude, it’s been seven years. Do you really want to keep this feud going?” she asks, her face contorting into a grimace. Nothing about her has changed. Only her voice is a little, I said “a little,” less unbearable. “You messed up my brother’s life, and because he loves you, I’m here subjecting myself to holding the damn smelly bucket with your vomit and taking care of you. But if you keep poking me, I’m going to dump it all over your head.” She growls, staring at me with a flushed face.
“You know, Bia, it’s been seven years, as you said…” I groan, trying not to roll over in bed with the horrible cramps that are eating me inside. “I’m not that weird little girl anymore. I might be messed up and have cut my wrists, but if you’re a coward and do that, I swear I’ll find you when I’m brand new and break your face!”
“Not weird, huh?” She shrugs, going to the chair where I lost my virginity with Nate and sitting her body wrapped in a white romper, hugging the green plastic bucket. She wrinkles her nose at the odor escaping from it. “I always thought you were pretty. And now you’re super changed. I think I like this alternative look better. My brother should call you Little Flame.”
I blink at her confession. No! I won’t fall for this! Bianca is being fake. Trying to act nice, and maybe that’s how she can fool Nate into believing she can be a good person.
“I don’t like vaginas!”
“But you’re a bitch, huh…” she insults, but there’s a fun element in her words. Her face breaks into a smile. She seems to enjoy the provocation. “I would eat you out if you weren’t a forbidden and sacred territory. You’re my brother’s. So… you don’t need to get all defensive. I’m not hitting on you.”
“Dude, I hate your voice, you know? I think it’s so annoying,” I attack, feeling the liquid rising up my throat. Again, she’s quick to stop me from making a mess as another disgusting wave comes out of my lips. I grab the bucket roughly from her hands when I finish. “I don’t trust you. You can leave!”
“No!” she contradicts, sitting back down. She has dark circles under her eyes as if she hasn’t slept. Her hair is pinned back with clips on the sides. “Don’t you want to know how Nate is? You know he’s Border, right? Imagine how his head was when he saw that you mutilated yourself. His biggest trigger is abandonment, Isabela.”
“Whatever he felt, it serves him right! Want to talk about abandonment triggers? Imagine how I felt when he left me!” I pretend not to care, but inside, I’m really worried. Still, I want to take the opportunity to throw her biggest dirt in her face. “Don’t you feel even a little guilty for what you did to separate us?”
“First of all, you broke his heart. Did you know that Nate made a collage with the wrappers of the candies you used to eat?” Now she looks genuinely angry, speaking through clenched teeth and fists. After another round of vomiting, I look back at the disaster. However, when I process her words, I have flashes of my little delinquent keeping all the candies I gave him in his pocket or taking my wrappers and doing the same. My heart warms, tightens, almost stops. Did he really do that? Does he still have that collage? Has he thought about me all these years? “And if you had died, Nate would have gone after you. I would have lost my brother because he’d never know how to deal with it, damn it! Nate was a wreck yesterday, feeling guilty for you cutting your wrists. That boy is the fucking most important thing in my life. I have no one. My only real family, who always took care of me and showed me love and care, was him!” Her voice trembles, along with her entire body. “Every time I threw insults at you, called you weird, and got jealous, it was because I knew it would end like this.” Now she’s speaking loudly and… crying. I hate her for separating me from him. But there’s a part of me interested in seeing her like this because she seems to be speaking the truth. Bianca is being very passionate, showing feelings, after all. Maybe she’s not a psychopath like I thought. “He’s fragile, very. When I saw him hopelessly in love with you, I knew something would go wrong at some point. Because Nate can’t feel rejected or betrayed. My brother implodes, then explodes. I wiped a tear with fury, her black, slanted eyes closing even more because they swell from her crying. “Nate feels things inside him with a much greater proportion than other people. I knew a broken heart would trigger heavy crises in him. I was being childish picking on you, but in the end, my fear was right. You broke him into a thousand pieces. And I didn’t hate you, but when you made that blog, I wanted to end you!”