The Forever of Ella and Micha

trips across the country on their Harleys.
    “Why were you staring at the old couple?” I play with her hair.
    She shakes her head promptly. “I wasn’t.”
    I stare at her lip as she nibbles on it nervously, but decide to let whatever she’s been weird about go for now, not wanting to ruin the one night we get together for the next month.

Ella
    For some reason, I find myself staring at an old couple and picturing what it would be like if Micha and I were still together at that age. The man feeds the woman a bite of his food and she leans over to give him a kiss. It’s fascinating watching them because my parents were never that affectionate with each other.
    The more I think about it, the more my nerves own me. I can’t see Micha and me together, old and sitting at a table, feeding each other—I can’t see anything.
    Micha is concerned about me, like he always is when I’m acting like a weirdo. I focus on the conversation, nodding my head, even though I have no idea what’s going on.
    When we’re leaving, Lila seizes my elbow and rips me away from Micha’s grasp.
    “What are you doing?” I say, stumbling to keep up with her as she tows me around the corner of the brick restaurant and into the smoking area. It’s dark and the air feels a little damp compared to Vegas’ dry heat.
    “That Naomi is a bitch.” She waves her finger as she talks.
    My eyebrows furrow as I check to make sure no one is listening to us at the corner of the building. “Why? What did she do to you?”
    “She didn’t do anything to me.” She crosses her arms and her face reddens with anger. “She said stuff about you.”
    “Like what?”
    “That you mess with Micha’s head. That you’re no good for him.”
    My jaw drops. “She said that to you?”
    “No, but I overheard her.” He eyes wander to a group of guys standing by the corner observing us. “She thought I was in the bathroom, but I was coming back and I heard her talking to that Chase dude, who by the way is so hot.”
    “The one with a lot of tattoos and with a Mohawk thing going on?” I ask and she nods. “He doesn’t seem like your type.”
    She shrugs and then quickly shakes her head. “That’s beside the point. I think Naomi wants Micha, and I don’t trust her.”
    “We’ve gone over this a thousand times.” I hold my breath as a guy with a cigarette walks by and blows smoke in our direction. “I trust
him
.”
    “I think you’re making a mistake.” She picks some mascara off her eyelashes. “I think you should ask him to quit the band.”
    “No way, I would never do that to him,” I say, appalled.
    “It’s your call,” she replies. “But I’m saying I smell trouble.”
    “Yo, Ella May!” Micha hollers from the corner of the building and Lila and my gazes dart to him. “What are you doing?”
    I glance at Lila. “Thanks for worrying about me, but it’ll be okay.”
    She sighs and we walk over to Micha, who’s waiting for me with his hand extended. “Is something wrong?”
    I stare into his eyes, glimmering with happiness. “No, everything’s great.”

Micha
    Usually, everyone in the band crashes in the same room. Naomi takes one of the beds and the rest of us flip a coin to see who gets the other. Tonight, I get an extra room so Ella and I can have more time together.
    After some charming persuading on my part, I convince Lila to sleep in the same room as the band. She doesn’t seem too thrilled about it though, since Dylan won’t stop bothering her.
    Once we’re alone, Ella flops down on the bed and drapes her arm over her head. “I’m exhausted. What time is it?”
    I glance down at the leather-banded watch on my wrist. “Almost three o’clock.”
    “Really?” She props up on her elbows. “Do you always stay up this late?”
    “Usually.” I unfasten my watch and slip off my boots, prowling toward her. “And I’m good for a few more hours at least.” I shuck off my shirt, climb onto the bed, and cover her body with mine. Her fingers trace my stomach muscles and the black cursive font of the tattoo on my ribs.
    “I’ll always be with you, inside and out,” she reads. “Through hard times and helpless ones, through love, through doubt.”
    I lean back a little, bring her hand to my mouth, and gently kiss her palm. “You know I wrote that for you.”
    “No, you didn’t.” Her eyelids flutter as I breathe on the sensitive spot of her wrist. “You wrote that when you were, like,