Nate Part 3

I could never bring myself to tell anyone about that crap, and that’s the exact part of my story I’ve hidden from Isabela, something I will never have the courage to confide in anyone. If she ever finds out why I came back, why my dad finally let me return for good, she’ll never want to look me in the eye again. She’ll be disgusted by me. Anyone would...
I blink to hold back the stupid tears threatening to well up in the corners of my eyes.
Over time, I became more and more angry, letting my chaotic side come out in full force, vandalizing everything in sight. I ended up getting arrested and even spent nights in jail. When I set fire to one of my dad’s offices, that was the last straw. He punched me in the face several times. I thought I was going to die because Vinicius had never hit me before. When I could barely open my eyes from the strength of his blows, he shoved me into the car, then dumped me in a dark building, with nothing inside, reeking of dust and nightmares. I thought the bastard was really going to kill me. Vinicius just yelled that this was the only place where I should let “the monster I was” loose. His voice echoed like thunder, bouncing off the walls of the abandoned place, over and over again, making everything feel like a horror movie. I lay on the floor as he left. I wanted to explode, to curse him, to fight back against every punch my dad threw, but I was too messed up. I couldn’t even move properly from the unbearable pain that felt like snake bites spreading all over my body.
After a few hours, I heard his footsteps coming back. When I forced myself to open one eye and see what my dad was doing, I saw him throw a few boxes of paint cans on the floor before leaving.
I met Ian and Marcel, who’s his brother, in a graffiti group on Facebook. They had a crew that tagged buildings at night in downtown Rio. They shared a lot of cool stories, wild adventures, so one day I decided to meet up with them, knowing I didn’t want to be a lone vandal anymore—I wanted a crew. That’s when I told them about this building, the place my dad gave me after beating me up, sealing my fate with the certainty that I would hate him forever. We turned this place into the headquarters of the *Toca*, where we hang out to drink, smoke, hook up with girls, game, or plan our tagging runs.
Our friendship has lasted a few years now, but it’s nothing deep. Like, we’re not best friends. We’re just some guys who enjoy the same things, so we stick together. And I almost broke Ian’s face when he slept with my sister... right here in the *Toca*. I walked in and dragged him off her. It was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in my life. But eventually, I let go of the anger, after all, Bianca was never some damsel in distress. She’s always hooking up with guys and girls, sometimes even bringing girls here to sleep with her.
“The beer’s warm!”—Speak of the devil, there she is, complaining that the freezer’s broken and we’re stuck using an ice bucket for the drinks.
The *Toca* is makeshift. None of us work; we’re just a bunch of messed-up teens, and we only go to school because our parents make us. Every now and then, Bianca and I run out of cash because we mess up and Dad takes away our credit cards. We make do with what we have, but we’ve actually fixed up this place pretty well. There’s a jukebox, some worn-out sofas, an old TV with a Super Nintendo, a beat-up pool table, and a filthy, falling-apart mattress. There’s probably so much jizz stuck to it that I don’t even have the guts to use it. I’d rather screw girls against the wall or on the leather couch, at least you can wipe it down, even if it’s full of holes in the upholstery. Well, I *used* to, since now my dick is practically gathering cobwebs because I only jerk off to relieve myself. I haven’t slept with anyone since the day Isabela walked out of school holding my hand for the first time.
“What’s up, Stranger!” Bianca says, swaying her hips in the shortest denim shorts she could find as she stands in front of my Little Sun.
I growl at her, and she raises her hands as if surrendering, walking away with a smug grin on her lips. Isabela glares at my sister. She’s starting to change, though there’s still a long way to go before she learns to defend herself properly. But Isa doesn’t drop her shoulders anymore; she looks people in the eye, just like I taught her. She glares at them, threatening without needing to say a word. And damn, Isabela looks adorable when she does that. She’s like a Pomeranian trying to growl. Obviously, no one can take her seriously, but I don’t tell her that.
“Want a Coke?” I ask her, smiling as I see she’s still red with anger, her gaze fixed on the Witch.
It had to be this way, huh? The moment I go crazy for a girl, she doesn’t get along with the other girl in my life. No matter how much of a bitch my sister can be sometimes, I love her with all the strength I can muster. Bia is my other half, literally. We’re not identical twins, and she clearly has our dad’s Asian features, but we shared a womb at the same time, and we’ve been inseparable since the moment we were born. Bianca gets me. The Witch never judged me for having a disorder. On the contrary, she turns into a lioness whenever our dad starts messing with me. She even called social services and reported him after he beat me, but it didn’t lead to anything. Vinicius bribed some people, and they dropped it.
Bia always defends me, supports me, and I tell her almost everything about my life. She also shares her stuff with me. The only thing I don’t care to know is who she’s sleeping with or who she’s hooking up with. The only thing I demand is that she takes care of herself so she doesn’t end up pregnant or sick. And our parents? Oh, they don’t give a crap that they have two sixteen-year-old kids who are screwing strangers like rabbits or eating weed brownies for breakfast. My dad only cares about money, and my mom... who knows what the hell she wants out of life, other than designer clothes or living in a haze of drugs.