Nate Part 4

"Do you know, I'm used to being called a bitch..." she says, swallowing hard, as if the gesture could hold back the sob, but it's inevitable. "I don't even know why I still care. And don't apologize; it was your sister who offended me, not you."
We sit in silence for long moments after I sit back down next to her, shaking my right leg, trying to contain my anxiety. I don't know what to do to stop my sister from offending Isa. And given the level of what she said, she doesn't intend to stop the teasing.
"Shall we go grab a snack?" I finally invite, deciding that maybe it would be a way to cheer her up.
"I'm not in the mood to leave the classroom," she replies, her face serious and her voice very quiet.
"Do you want me to bring something? Chips? I know you like them."
"Sure..." she murmurs, looking down and shrugging.
I feel strange as I head toward the cafeteria. I don't know what's happening to me, but I care so damn much about this girl. Seeing her sad stirs something very deep inside me. I know I like her; I'm not stupid. And I don't think I've ever felt this way before. I've had silly, platonic feelings when I was younger, at boarding school. But nothing as strong as this, that leaves me looking like a fool, not knowing what to do, or makes me want to be near her all the time, thinking about her to the point of not being able to sleep.
I buy a large bag of potato chips at the cafeteria and two small cans of Coca-Cola. I don't even know if she likes that flavor of soda or if she drinks it at all, but I'm going to bring it anyway.
I scan the courtyard and don't see my sister. And that's good; I don't even know what I would do if I did. Maybe I'll give her the cold shoulder for an entire month so she'll obey me or respect my choices.
I head back anxiously to the classroom, thinking all the while about what to say to Isabela. Actually, I think I'd like to be able to spray-paint something or punch something. A wall, maybe...
I feel tense, anxious, and frustrated.
Things were going well with Little Sun. She was happy, trusting me, opening up to me. Then that spoiled brat decided to ruin everything with her jealousy. I barely notice that I reach the classroom door, but the mocking voice of Caíque from inside jolts me. My heart is racing like crazy, and I can feel the blood boiling to the point of bubbling in my veins. I'm going to get detention if this is what I think it is. And it's exactly what I see as my restless feet guide me toward the sound. Caíque is cornering Isabela against the blackboard. She is frozen, hunched over, and her wide, distant eyes are trying to whisper something. There’s a group of the jerk's idiot followers around him, laughing at how he mocks my Little Sun.
I don’t hear the screams in the room; I just feel heat when I react. It's the frenzy of rage, the peak of fury that courses through me as I throw what I bought away and pull the big, chunky redhead's body. I see few details. The narrow eyes of the son of a bitch widen before one of them is hit by a punch. I throw him against the teacher's desk and hear a thud when his body hits it. And when I land another punch on his mouth, feeling the knuckles burn from the hit, I shout loudly to expel even more of the fury that sweeps over me, my voice only being overpowered by the sound of the bell signaling the end of the break.
"Stay away from my girl!" I order, saliva escaping from the corners of my mouth.
Caíque spits blood, dizzy, barely able to look at me when the familiar floral scent envelops me. Slowly, I begin to hear sounds again, coming out of the trance that rage put me in, and I hear whispers from various directions, along with my sister's screams.

"Are you crazy, Nate?!" Bianca yells, pulling me away from the boy. My heart is racing, and I don't see anything when the inspector, a wall of nearly two meters and exaggerated muscles, drags me by the collar of my uniform away from the classroom. The last thing my eyes see is Isabela crouched on the classroom floor, wide-eyed, covering her ears against my sister's insults.
I don't hear much of what the principal, a tall, slender Black woman with short hair, is saying. She doesn’t change her elegant tone to scold me. And when she calls my mother and talks for a few moments, all I hear is the phrase “three-day suspension.”
Three days of suspension, but what got into my dumb brain was “three days without seeing Isabela.”
I was released two and a half hours later, after my mother signed, and I didn’t even catch a glimpse of her. I turned my back on Suzana as soon as she entered Principal Andreia's office. I took the chance and slipped out just in time to see Isabela leaving through the school gate, walking outside.
I didn’t see Bianca, and I don’t even know if I want to. I’m so angry at having seen Isabela shrink and cover her ears against her insults.
I love my sister, but I wished Isa would react and give the slaps I couldn't give her. No one deserves to be insulted for no reason. And, honestly, I think I need to tell Little Sun to learn to defend herself. Not to let people hurt her.
I don’t care about the curious looks or the gossip I hear being whispered as I hurry toward the small figure walking in white Converse toward the street.
"Isa!" I call out.
When Isabela stops and looks at me, her hair reflecting the sunlight, I expect her to push me away, to tell me to go away. After all, I showed how much I usually burn and react badly, how I can explode heavily. Besides, I was pathetic and said in front of everyone that she was my girl. And she isn’t... We have nothing. I just like her. And when she opens her mouth, my heart races as I wait to hear her tell me to stay as far away as possible.
"Are you interested in seeing me play now?" she invites, giving a sad little smile, her eyes swollen from crying, staring into mine. "I'm going to my grandmother's house; my piano is there."
"Of course I want to, Isabela. I'm looking forward to it..."
I know I'm smiling like a fool at the perfect girl in front of me. I'm surprised by the way she walks toward me, and I almost disconnect from the world when I see what she’s doing. Isabela just intertwined our hands. And she’s pulling me toward a car. It's more than an invitation; it's a sign of trust. And if I had any doubts that I was in love, I am overwhelmed by an absurd certainty that I am hopelessly crazy for a piece of sunshine.