Isabela Part 2

Giving up on finding my diary, I throw my backpack over my shoulder, say goodbye to my room, and head for the door. I type a message to my grandma since it’s Wednesday, and I have to visit her after class before heading to the Hangout. Usually, Grandma lets me go straight to Nate’s, so I spend the whole afternoon with my love, then sleep over at her place. But today, Hellen insisted I go there right after class. She misses me and said she had a bad dream about me and wants to give me some hugs.
I turn the doorknob to the living room but hear my mom whispering inside the office, a room close to the entrance hall:
“Report? Child Protective Services? What do you mean, honey?”
A bead of sweat forms on my forehead. My heartbeat stumbles as Nate’s image flashes neon in my mind. I knew he wouldn’t be able to contain himself, and yet, I insisted on telling him. Stupid! That’s what I am!
What did you do, Nate?
Trying to tiptoe so my black sneakers don’t make a sound, I walk across the ceramic floor to the door. I press my ear against the white wood, struggling to amplify my hearing. I force myself not to breathe too hard, but I’m so scared that I can’t help it.
“Some asshole made a report, saying it’s our neighbor who regularly hears Isabela screaming, along with the sounds of slaps,” Marcos says on the other end of the line, in a furious voice. I can almost picture him, his face purple with rage, ready to punch someone.
A loud honk jolts me from my thoughts. I’m late for school. Panicking, I run outside before my mom opens the door and catches me eavesdropping. As I throw myself into the black SUV, sitting in a sea of white leather, I’m certain it was the boy I’m in love with who did this. I know Nate is behind that report.
We’ve lived in this house for five years, and I get beaten every week. Sometimes I scream, I cry, and not a single neighbor has ever intervened. You know why? There are no houses attached to ours. No one can hear what goes on inside. I’m sure Diana and my stepdad will think it was me. Somehow, they will know I told someone.
He thinks he’s helping me, but he just screwed everything up. Marcos will sweep the accusation under the rug, then retaliate against me. My eyes burn with anger, boiling. I don’t even feel time passing. When I realize it, I’m in front of the school.
My face is flushed with frustration. I know Nate loves me, that he cares about me a lot. How can I judge him? Anyone would react that way for their girl. But he just made things worse. Marcos will dig so deep that it’ll be impossible not to find the treasure he’s seeking. He’ll discover whose number was behind the report. And if Nate used his own phone, my stepdad could get to his parents and connect the dots. Either way, he will find Nate. His cell is probably under his parents’ name. So when any of the bullshit cops who owe favors to my stepdad pull up their family record, Marcos will find out that the owner of that number has a teenage son studying in the same class and school as me.
What the hell!
When I arrive in class, the biology teacher is already in front of the board, writing lessons on the chalkboard, her bulging eyes giving me a silent warning. She loves to mess with me and Nate, calling us “lovebirds,” “sweethearts,” and other crap. She always threatens to kick us out if we get too touchy during class.
“Hey, My Little Sun!” my kitten says as I throw myself into the chair next to him.
I glare at him over my shoulder, placing my backpack on the chair’s arm. I let him lean in and give me a peck, his addictive scent wrapping around me. I’m really mad, but I turn and just hug him, letting the noise of the world fade away, allowing his presence to quiet the chaos inside me.
I’m scared.
I don’t know what to do.
I wish I could just ignore all of this, pretend that I can stay calm with the waves receding. Ignore that this calm on the beach is because a tsunami is coming. But it’s impossible. I know everything will be swept away when the waves break.
“I love you, my favorite delinquent!” I whisper, then plant a kiss on his neck, right over one of his possessive hickeys.
“I love you too, My Sun. Is everything okay?” He pulls back slightly, trying to get a good look at my face. I lie with a nod. “Some serious stuff happened yesterday, so we need to talk after class.”
I nod in agreement, opening my notebook and preparing to take notes. I notice he’s bouncing one leg in his jeans against the floor, anxious. He’s probably going to tell me about the mess he made by reporting my guardians, and I’ll have to explain how that doesn’t help but puts a target right on his forehead for my stepdad to aim at.
Marcos will dig into Nate’s life, if he isn’t already doing that at this very moment. Once he finds out about those past convictions, he’ll figure out a way to mess with him. If he can’t, he’ll go after his parents. My stepdad is such a creep and possessive; he won’t let the boy I’m getting involved with have any peace. He was already bloodthirsty to find out who my boyfriend was.
“Did you see my diary?” I whisper, trying not to catch the teacher’s attention. “I don’t know if I left it at school or at the Hangout.”
“Hmm…” His little smirk is a relief, even though everything about him seems a bit sad today. “What if I find it? Am I going to see something about me in there?”
“Just give it back, okay?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
And yes, Nate will find everything about him in those pages. I only talk about him, narrating every little thing that happens between us.
“I’ll think about it!” He whistles, then pulls me closer, resting his lips on the top of my head.