Grapes Upside Down

37. Papas Duquesas

~Madisen~

Clara glares with a death stare when I show up tardy to Recreación on Thursday. She continues to squint at me as I jog over, my pony tail swinging with extra enthusiasm, infused by the twenty minutes I just spent in a secluded corner of the plaza with Ignacio—hence the reason I'm late.

"¿Qué?" I whisper.

Clara scrunches up her face in exasperation, and I'm beginning to doubt whether she is messing with me or genuinely upset.

"¿Qué onda, Madisen?" Clara questions with piercing blue eyes, after our professors finish giving instructions for today's activity. "¿Estabas con tu pololo?"

On Monday, after we spent most of the day at Ignacio's house talking, kissing, almost making love and watching movies, I asked him if he considers me his polola (girlfriend). We made it official, and he explained to me that pololos (Chilean slang for novios) are tiny bugs that always march around in pairs.

"¿La Caperucita Roja tiene pololo?" Fernando (Yes-Boy) interjects himself predictably into our conversation, calling me "Little Red Riding Hood," which, as irony would have it, is Ignacio's nickname for me as well.

"Sipo," I confirm, a proud smile beaming uncontained from my face.

Fernando clutches his chest and contorts his body into impossible angles, as if he has been shot by a bullet. He wails with fake, melodramatic sobs. I have no choice but to giggle at his sense of humor and pure, wide-open fondness for me, despite zero signals of reciprocation on my part.

Clara tells him his is not the first heart I have broken.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask in English, feeling defensive.

"If you haven't noticed, this is pretty hard on Noah."

"Of course I've noticed!" I retort, the threat of tears stinging my eyes. "Is that what you were talking to him about last night?"

"No, not really. But, I guess you knew how into you he was all this time, right? You seemed like you were falling for him too. Noah's a great guy, Madisen."

"I know how great of a guy he is!" This flighty, panic sensation is rising in my chest. "What are you implying—that I should be with him instead?"

She spreads her arms, palms up, in an uncommitted gesture with her signature partial eye-roll.

"Why then, as my best friend, did you never say anything for the first two months of the semester?" I'm unreasonably worked up, but I can't stop firing unfiltered thoughts at Clara. "I think I can answer it on my own—because you had your own crush on him!"

Clara remains silent, her expression impassive as she blinks several times.

"That's not the point, Madisen. It's just, are you sure about getting this close to Ignacio? I mean, you're coming late to class now because of him. That's not really you."

"You're just as much in love with Emiliano!" I glance around the gym, still holding back tears, to discover that Clara's pololo seems to be absent from class today.

"I've been on four dates with him, Madisen. You've been out with Ignacio every single night for the past four weeks." She pauses, inhales deeply and sighs. "I'm a little bit worried for you."

My insides are tangled up like yarn, and I can't connect all the things we have both said in this conversation into any logical, cohesive point. But when I stop playing defense with Clara and take a breath, I realize that the concern in her eyes is genuine. Self-doubt crashes in jagged, dusty chunks of debris around me, while a desperate force inside my chest rushes to rebuild the pieces into a solid wall of conviction.