Isabela
**Today**
I took a shower and brushed my teeth. The smell of vomit on my face was what was making me feel the most nauseous. I put on one of Nate's shirts, which is really nice. It's white and covered in colorful graffiti. It’s huge on me, but the good thing is that it covers my butt really well, reaching mid-thigh. The clothes I wore to the Bosque are covered in vomit, and Bianca took them to the college laundry. I’ll grab them from her later.
After half an hour of researching online the place to take our test, Nate's sister left. I’m still shocked that I felt good around her. I thought that when I saw her, I would want to hit that girl so hard that I’d get revenge for everything she did to me. I can even imagine Ana laughing in my face when I tell her. She’ll say it was a better plot twist than she could ever write...
Speaking of Ana, I have a lot of messages from her and Cristina on my phone. I saw that there was an audio message sent to her during the night, and when I played it, surprise came. It was from Nate, saying I was with him and that I would call her when I woke up. Then came a long text from my friend in response, which, in a polite and nice way, said he was a bastard and that she would kill him if he hurt me again. She also put in all caps, “And keep that dick away from her until my friend is emotionally okay.”
I replied this morning, making it clear that I’m fine. However, Ana still said she wants to see me and understand how I ended up in Nate’s room. I’m avoiding thinking about that meeting because she will be sad when she notices the cuts on my wrists.
I see Nate coming out of the bathroom, with a white towel wrapped around his waist. He shakes his hair with another smaller towel, causing droplets to splash in various directions. I try not to look at his abs, those defined muscles, the trail of hair below his belly button leading straight to his cock... Damn! It won’t be easy to be in such a small room with him.
I look away when Nate deliberately drops the towel on the floor, giving that smirk that can mess up my whole body composition without taking his eyes off me. The bastard is hard! And all the thick, beautiful veins on that cock seem to be saying “hi” to me. When he turns around and starts looking for something in his wardrobe, his nice ass makes my chest warm. But the fun ends when he puts on a pair of black boxers. Not that it’s any less entertaining to see him adjust himself in the fabric.
“Shall we talk, My Sun?” he asks, dragging the tragic chair that fills me with memories in front of me and then sitting down.
I bite a piece of the croissant he brought for me, then take a gulp of coffee. I don’t even know what he’s going to say, but I swear I’m scared he’ll suggest some sort of rehab or something because of the self-harm. Or that he called Hellen. My whole body starts to tingle with a sudden wave of fear.
“Go ahead...”
“How are you feeling now?”
Humiliated. Defeated for having vomited my entire world in his room. Like shit for cutting my wrists and knowing he sees me as a crazy person who self-harms. Awful for looking like I wanted to get his attention...
“Fine.”
“Did you take the antibiotic?” he asks, resting his elbows on his perfect thighs, leaning forward.
He got the doctor’s prescription that was folded in the pocket of my skirt, bought the meds, and brought them along with the meal I’m devouring right now.
“I’ll take it as soon as I finish my coffee,” I inform him. My heart races as he leans closer. I can barely breathe or coordinate my thoughts. I feel chills crawling down my spine like a venomous snake. His mouth is so close that it seems about to... bite my croissant. I swallow hard, looking away in frustration at my snack. “I can’t take the antibiotics on an empty stomach.”
“Have you messaged your friend? She called you dozens of times yesterday,” he says after taking a bite of my breakfast. “She also threatened me and said not to touch you until you’re emotionally okay.”
My cheeks heat up, both from him mentioning Ana’s words and from the dose of awareness about the mess I’ve made. I’m a little embarrassed. I caused a huge fuss, showing a side of myself that I always hate to expose. Generally, I hid it when I had a new crisis and cut myself. I always wore a jacket or a long shirt to camouflage the traces of the razor.
When my grandmother saw the cuts for the first time, she was very sad and even cried. She made me promise I would never do that again and wanted to force me to see a psychologist. But I stood my ground and said no. I promised I would never hurt myself again and then went to her house always wearing hoodies. That way, I made sure she wouldn’t see when I had a new scar in my collection.
“I’ll call Ana later. She’s going to lecture me and want to see me, so I’m aligning my chakras first.” I shrug, trying not to stare too much at his face.
Every now and then, the things Bia said about him acting like we were a couple come back to my mind. And now that we’re in this embarrassing silence, with Nate staring at me like he’s holding back from jumping on me every second, I’m left wondering why I’m still here...
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