Ana Oliveira

When the huge black wooden door creaked open and a tiny redhead in denim shorts and a black t-shirt slipped inside, my heart started to race uncontrollably. I swallowed hard, seeing yet another person with whom I had messed everything up, another person I hurt and who also made sure to retaliate.
Fear was in her eyes, even though she tried to put on an intimidating stance. She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms, leaning against the door.
"Did you want to talk to me?" she asked, opening a piece of gum and popping it into her mouth. She tucked the wrapper into her shorts' front pocket and then fixed her gaze on me. "Speak up, Ana, I'm here..."
"I..." I started, but my voice came out terribly thin. I cleared my throat, wiping away a tear. "I want to apologize for the things I said when we fought, for the way I ‘threw’ something so painful at you..."
Isabela blinked and stared at me for a long time, speechless. The silence stretched into awkward minutes, during which I waited with bated breath for her response.
"I..." she murmured, and the way her eyes filled with tears made a pang of pain strike my chest. "I apologize for saying horrible things to you over the years and for having a fling with Josiah to piss you off."
I wiped a tear while nodding at her, seeing her completely red and exposed before me. I had seen her cry many times during the years we were friends. Sometimes, when Josiah was in the army, she would sleep over at Marta’s house, crying the whole night. This would happen whenever my friend tried to get close to a guy because it would trigger her trauma from being abused by her stepfather. She couldn’t handle men touching her, and whenever she fell in love and entered a relationship, she would end things abruptly whenever she felt overwhelmed by being touched. I would hold her, and Isa would cry herself to sleep, saying that the only people she allowed to touch her were Bernardo, her grandmother, and me. Even moving out of her mother’s house when she turned eighteen didn’t free her from her shadows.
"I think we were both too harsh with each other. And seeing you with that bitch Luana made me even more jealous," she confessed, taking a deep breath, her tone very different from how she used to speak to me.
She had always been jealous of Luana since we started hanging out. Both Bernardo and Isabela didn’t take well to her, and it seemed they didn’t like sharing attention. It became more evident how much Isabela resented Josiah’s cousin when he joined the army. Luana and I lived in the same house, which inevitably brought us closer. Even though I saw Isabela often at college, at home, or during our outings, she didn’t respond well to seeing me with Lu.
The moments when our group was together were great for me, but it was always awkward to see Luana being nice to Isa, giving her the best of herself, while my friend made no effort to reciprocate.
I thought about all the things that made our friendship fall apart. Was Bernardo also one of the reasons?
"Do you also think I was the one who hit Ber?"
Isabela swallowed hard, and what she did next shocked me. She walked over to me, somewhat hesitantly, as if she was unsure of what she was doing, and then sat down beside me. I was paralyzed as she slowly settled onto the sofa, her leg brushing against mine.
"You're not thinking of doing something stupid, are you, Ana?" she asked, without looking at me.
Just the act of sitting beside me and leaning against me made me feel a spark of happiness. I had harbored so much anger towards her for the way she would sit on Josiah’s lap, and sometimes, in my fury, I doubted her trauma with men. After all, she would sit on my ex-boyfriend’s lap. But even in my spiral of hurt, I understood that Isa always acted in the way she described her interactions with men. She controlled, stayed on top of them, never beneath, never in an embrace... And her touches on Josiah, aiming to hurt me, were always like that—a gentle brush on the arm, a kiss on the cheek, sitting on his lap.
"I’m a mother now," I murmured. "I don’t deny that sometimes the thoughts come when I’m suffering, but just thinking about my little princess makes all those thoughts go away," I said, feeling her seem to lift a weight off her shoulders. "But don’t avoid the question. I still have many..."
"I don’t know, Bostinha..." she said, shaking her head. I watched her the whole time and saw that, as she said this, she closed her eyes. I wiped away a tear, noticing I was happy to hear her call me by that nickname. "I have doubts about it. Because you were the person I loved most in the last six years. And even though at many moments I wanted to punch you, I still loved you and hated admitting that to myself. When Jow told me that you hit Bernardo, I questioned him for a long time, incredulous. I still don’t have a conviction about it, because when I picked him up from the floor, while you were lying in front of the car, your eyes were distant. You seemed out of touch with reality."
"I can’t remember hitting him, Isabela..." I said, and she finally turned her face towards me, giving a slight chew on her gum, with her breath exhaling the sweet smell it always had.
Isa had her head bowed, and her mascara, as always, was smudged, though this time more so since she had been crying. She gave me a very sad smile and subtly, like a cat, snuggled into my lap, surprising me, so I wrapped her in an embrace. Oh God! I started sobbing because I loved that damned rebellious girl. I loved that woman, despite everything we did to hurt each other.
"You’re a bitch, Ana. A bitch with the talent of making it impossible for anyone to really hate you."
I smiled faintly, pulling her against my chest and kissing her stinky red hair. I hugged her, letting the longing I felt out.
"Do you still wash your hair only once a week?" I teased, and Isa raised her middle finger with red, sharp nails without looking at me.
"I hate washing my hair..." she admitted, smiling slightly. "Do you believe I still haven’t lost my virginity?" she said out of nowhere, startling me. Well, almost halfway startling me. After all, it was somewhat expected that her traumas hadn’t disappeared overnight.
"And Bill is the hottest guy..."
"Bill?" I shouted, shocked.
"What? He’s the hottest guy..." she said, excited. "Harry always tries to hit on me, picking me up at home... But I actually like Bill. We kind of hook up secretly, you know? Not even Jow knows about it..."
I started to relax, feeling lighter with that woman in my arms, and I hugged her, seeing that she still trusted me to touch her. And that, coming from her, was a gesture of trust.
"And has it worked with him? Like, can you let Bill touch you?"
"Well..." she took a deep breath. "I like him, but I can’t let him do that freely."
"Am I still the only woman who can hug you?" I asked, kissing her head repeatedly, making her laugh like a child.
"Now you are again, right? What can I say? I’m a shameless bitch..." she said, laughing, turning to give me a kiss on the cheek.
I gave a slight smile, looking at her round, perfect face with affection. In the end, my anger was from the rejection Isabela showed, from thinking she was fake for being with Josiah after our breakup and ending our friendship without giving me a chance to make things right.