Isabela Part 3

I get startled by Ana's outburst, but I manage to hold her arm before I can head toward him. I didn't even need to say that the guy is responsible for my downfall; she noticed by my posture that it's Nate, from the way I froze and stared at him.
I don’t want to create more chaos. He’s already suffering, whatever the reason...
“No! It’s going to make things worse!” I advise, seeing the murderous intentions on her face.
If I take that route to the parking lot, they'll see me. My friends and I are just a few steps away from the two of them, on the cobblestone path next to the sidewalk where they stand.
Okay, I can go right, toward the bridge. There’s a lake up ahead, on the other side, with a small wooden bridge in the middle. If I go through there, I can sneak into the back of the parking lot and avoid that jerk seeing me, preventing a bigger mess.
“Let’s go by the bridge!” Cristina says before I can.
I just nod, glancing at Nate. With a bit more attention, I see that the phrase he's scribbling on the wall is “The last breath before drowning,” the one I used when I hugged him in his bathroom. Next to it is a drawing of a sun, but instead of having a smile like the one I have tattooed on my leg, it has tears and a mouth turned down. A sad sun...
So much of what I am is a result of him. It starts with my hair; I only dyed it red because Nate loved blonde hair. Every time I looked in the mirror when I was “his,” I thought I was beautiful because Nate loved my hair. I started to like its color, the nickname tied to the shade of my strands. When we broke up, I didn’t want anything of his left in me. Angry, letting my inner monsters out that night, I covered my hair with red. And I never took it off.
The sun tattoo was a huge mistake. I was super drunk, just having heard that damn song "Demons" playing on the speakers at Ravina, and thousands of memories of Nate invaded me. I freaked out with nostalgia, rage, sadness, and helplessness... So I told Bill to tattoo it on me. That damn smiling sun on my thigh is a reminder of him, of the nickname he gave me and that I always loved. And the twisted reminder of the sweet girl I will never be again, the Isabela who was killed when Nate left so that this fucked-up version of me could emerge.
“Car keys!” Cris says, handing the bag to Ana and reaching out her hand to me as soon as we get to my car.
I hand her my keychain, then head to the trunk and grab Belladonna's carrier bag. I do everything without saying a word, my head lost in thought. Before I know it, I’m sitting in the back seat next to Ana. I press my back against her chest, and she takes the chance to hug me tightly. As I feel the car moving, I check to make sure Belladonna is all right in the bag.
“Did you eat anything?”
“No, but I want one of your cakes.” She smells good. Wow! Why do I try to push her away when I’m struggling? I love her so much... She left the baby with her fiancé to come be with me, and I was a bitch, as always. “I’m sorry for being a cow!”
“I’m used to being friends with a broken girl!” she says. “I’m another little shit, remember?”
“I love you, dude!”
“I love you too! Now, cakes take a while to get ready. I’m going to make something decent for you to eat.”
“But I want cake too!” I pout. I don’t even need to force a tear to increase the drama; they come out pretty easily and genuinely.
“You’re hopeless, aren’t you? I’m going to take advantage that we’re going to the gynecologist and drag you in to check your glucose, huh!” she threatens, smiling.
“Get out of here!” I scoff. “My grandma is already bothering me enough.”
I feel the car stop, and when I look outside, I see we’re at a drugstore parking lot. Cris gets out, slamming the door and walking into the pharmacy. Ana gave her money when I was putting Belladonna in the carrier, leaving her responsible for buying what I need.
“Changing the subject: I have to admit that Cristina is being a good friend!” Ana murmurs, as if it’s hard to let the words out and they’re burning on her tongue. “She seems to really like you.”
“She’s a sweetheart!”
“More than me?”
“You’re so jealous, friend!” I tease, laughing at the soft grunt she makes. “You’re my ride or die; Cris is the mistress!”
“And who will be Nate's baby’s godmother?” Ana asks, referring to the possibility of me getting pregnant. I turn my head over my shoulder, glaring at her.
My friend bursts into laughter after the silly joke. I roll my eyes and try to suppress the curse word that dances on the tip of my tongue, but I’m ineffective.
“Go fuck yourself!”
“Look... This way you won’t get cake!” she jokes, playing dirty and tickling me mercilessly.
She’s relentless, making me laugh as I squirm and try to escape. Ana knows exactly how to make me laugh until I cry.
“I’m going to pee my pants, friend!” I shout, laughing uncontrollably because I’ve been holding it since I left the dorm.
When Cris gets back to the car, she throws a huge bag on top of us, finally making my friend stop the torture. Still trying to catch my breath, because I’m out of air from laughing so hard, I sit back in the seat. Ana is a mess, looking at me with a childish, mischievous expression.
“I’m not having a baby. Never!” I tell her, out of breath, tying my hair up in a bun. “I don’t want kids!”
Ana rolls her eyes, opening the bag Cris brought. I’ve told her a thousand times that I don’t want to be a mother.
“Isabela is going to have a sugar spike with all this!” she complains, making a face at Cristina.
The bag contains the medicine box that will prevent the tragedy of having a mini rebel in the world, three pregnancy test boxes, and lots of packages of white chocolate sticks and Chokito.
“Ah, I love you, girl!” I tell Cristina, launching myself into the front seat and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
When I pull back, I see she’s wide-eyed, shocked by the sudden act of affection, gripping the steering wheel tightly. She’s super shy. And in front of Ana, it gets worse.
“Oh, thank you!” Cristina says quietly.
Without wasting time, I unwrap one of the chocolates and take a bite, feeling the sweet wave spread through my mouth and start to relax my body.
“Put on some music, please!” I say, trying to keep the rhythm inside me.