Grapes Upside Down

39. Escudo

~Madisen~

All is right in the world again when Ignacio shows up outside of Terraza Bellavista and folds me into his embrace.

Clara and I have done a bit of pre-gaming at her place--Pisco mixed with Sprite, which she concocted in a questionable plastic water bottle in her bedroom while Bobby, always underfoot, clawed at his chunky, flea-infested bottom.

"Caperucita Roja," Ignacio hums into my ear, kissing my neck briefly with rose petal lips that send electric flutters in zigzag patterns throughout my body. "I miss you last night," he breathes in English, his heavily accented words raspy and irresistible. 

I introduce Ignacio to Clara, who seems to analyze him from head to toe before leaning in to offer her cheek for a light kiss. 

"¿Tu pololo?" Ignacio inquires after her boyfriend, because I had indicated tonight would be a double date.

Clara explains matter-of-factly that Emiliano had a family emergency at the last second and couldn't make it. I can tell from the subtle eye roll as she utters the statement that she herself isn't sure whether to believe it or not. 

Ignacio responds with a friendly smile and a sympathetic: "¡Pucha, po!" before slipping his hand into mine. 

Then he hits me with that intensely genuine eye contact, as if he can hardly believe that I'm here, that I'm real, that I'm his.

The alcohol has me in a falsely relaxed mood, which is covering my true anxiety over Ignacio and Noah meeting tonight. At the same time, there's a wild and undefined giddiness swirling inside me. I don't know if I'm excited to show off Ignacio to my friends, or if I'm feeling some kind of petty, subconscious revenge towards Noah for never speaking up, for letting me slip away.

In other words, my emotions are raw chopped meat scraps with no sense of logic.

"¡Ya llegamos!" Samira rushes to meet us, wrapping one arm around Clara and me in turn. She is dragging Armani behind her as she greets us, face animated, with shimmery, glittery-gold makeup embellishing her rich, gorgeous skin. 

I note Armani's polite but uncharacteristically serious expression when I introduce him to Ignacio. The dread burns in my gut again as I imagine Noah's face when he sees me, fingers laced around my tall, cappuccino-skinned Chilean boyfriend. The Earth drops out from beneath me for a few moments; sometimes all of this feels like a dream.

Maybe Noah won't come after all.  An icy-hot ache whips and slices around in my stomach like bold-colored, glow-in-the-dark streamers.

More students from our exchange cohort arrive as we loiter outside the club. 

"¡Daria!" Ignacio exclaims, as if he has just run into his very closest, long-lost friend. He emits a celebratory series of vowels, wrapping her into a tight side-hug.

"Felicidades." Daria cheers us with the drink she is indiscreetly carrying inside a brown paper bag, referring to our budding relationship.

Ignacio offers a sincere, bordering on emotional, expression of gratitude, reminding Daria that she is the reason the two of us met. 

"Salud." Daria offers a non-expressive smile and holds up her drink again, causing Ignacio to break into laughter as he returns an exuberant "¡Salud!" and clinks an imaginary drink against hers.

"¡Oye, necesitamos tragos!" he calls out generally to the group; the gringos from Aventuras Chile turn to him, nodding in amused agreement at his assertion that we all need an alcoholic beverage. I admire the way he so naturally commands the attention of a whole crowd of strangers. We gather ourselves and head toward the entrance. There's not much of a line, since it's only 9:45pm.