Nate Part 3
"You stole my diary. Your sister must have found it and done this!" she says with such certainty that I almost feel pity. "There was nothing about Bianca in there. I hate your sister. If it were me, I would go after her. I guarantee I’d have a thousand and one arguments to trash talk her."
I shake my head, shocked. Seriously, is she going to go there? Does she think I’m that stupid? There’s an unbearable pressure in my chest, as if a lead plate weighing tons has been placed on my heart. And my skin is burning from how much it’s on fire. My breath even seems like smoke because everything inside me is bubbling at high temperatures.
Furious with her dissimulation, I lean in and bite her lip. I’m not gentle. I’m angry and want to hurt her as much as she’s hurting me, so I draw blood. She cries, but doesn’t fight back or try to push me away. I release her before I worsen the wound on her skin.
"I like the way you lie," I spit out the words. Then I stand up, watching the blood stain the beautiful lips I once loved so much. "You’re perfect at everything, bitch, but you suck at lame excuses."
"Are you going to insult me now?" she yells. "It was Bianca, Nate! That’s pretty obvious!" She stands up, trying to hold me by my shirt as I walk towards the stairs that will mark the end for us both. When I cross that rusty gate, I hope to never see this whore again. "Who else would be childish enough to make a blog with the intent to separate us?"
It could have been smarter, accusing the stepfather, the mother, even my dad... I would believe it. I’d look for any excuse to not lose the perfect mirage of the future I drew for us, to cling to the amazing relationship we built together. But Bia? She’ll never understand, right? Bianca shared a womb with me, damn it. I know her like the back of my hand. She barks but has never bitten anyone. And could the Witch try to mess with Isabela out of jealousy? Yes! But she would never screw me over. She would never lift a finger against me. Whether it was leading me to the brink of prison by exposing the boarding school and the graffiti, or making me suffer by talking about my disorder. That’s why I know she would never have made that blog.
"My sister would never do that to me, you whore!" I hold back from doing something stupid, then turn and kick the couch. If I had any doubt about dislocating a bone before, I’m sure now. "She might not like you, but Bia loves me. She knows everything about me, that’s a fact, but not the details of the things I only talked to you about, or that the nickname she gave me is 'favorite delinquent,' or that you call Caíque 'Patrick Star.' This is ugly, Isabela... Stop lying! I just want to understand why you did this."
"You took my diary, you idiot!" she shouts, then pushes me, seeming taller with her anger. "She read that shit. You’re pretending you don’t want to see it, or are you in on it too? You wanted so badly to kick me out that you set this up to have the perfect excuse?"
"I didn’t take any damn diary!" I say, then push her lightly before she can hit me with a punch in the arm, like she tries to.
Isabela loses her balance and falls on her ass on the floor, next to the damn baseball bat. I take the chance to turn around, barely managing to place one foot on the ground without feeling a wave of pain, like stings spreading through my bone. She screams so loudly and forcefully that it almost seems like she’s expelling some entity from her body. I swear I can almost feel the walls vibrating. She yells in such a powerful way that it reminds me of myself when I unleash my demons.
I take a deep breath, my body aching, my soul completely shattered by that bitch. And when I look at her over my shoulder, she’s sitting on the filthy floor, with eyes so sad and yet so angry that I’m sure she’s defeated.
I loved her. I would give the world for her, I would steal the moon and deliver it to her if I could, like the damn character that made her give me the nickname "favorite delinquent," but only if Isabela loved me back. And this is not love. I’ll never understand why she chose to stab me like this, but there’s no going back now.
"I hope you’re happy with the dirty choices you made, Snitch. It’s all over, but I think you already know that."
"Nate..."
I don’t listen to her laments anymore. I cross the gate, and when I slam it shut, I close the chapter called Isabela in my life.
It’s over.
It’s fucking over.
.. Forever!
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