The Forever of Ella and Micha

hunched over and his head falls into his hands. “They tried to get me to talk about your mother.”
    I grow uneasy with the situation. “I’m sure that was hard for you, but running away won’t solve the problem. It’ll only make it worse. Trust me, I know.”
    “Trust you.” He raises his head and rubs his scruffy jawline. “Trust you like I trusted you to watch your mother that night.” He repeats the words he said to me when we tried to get him to go to rehab.
    It’s like I’ve been punched in the gut and I press my hand to my stomach, forcing my lungs to work. “I’m sorry.”
    His eyes widen and he quickly gets to his feet, toppling the chair to the ground. “Ella, I didn’t mean that. Sometimes I just say things… and I don’t know why I do.”
    “It’s okay.” Just like my therapist told me to do, I breathe through the internal pain as I back for the door. “I’m going to go get some dinner. Do you want anything?”
    He shakes his head and his eyes water over. “Ella, I really didn’t mean it.”
    “I know you didn’t.” I burst out the back door and suck in a deep breath of fresh air.
    Ethan glances up at me and then stands to his feet. “I was thinking the Drive-Inn and we can take my truck because there’s no way in hell I’m climbing into that clown car.”
    I could hug him right now, but I don’t. “Sounds good to me.”

    We sit in his truck eating French fries and hamburgers with the neon lights flashing into the cab. Ethan is checking out one of the waitresses who is bending over to take the order of the car next to us. It’s been quiet between the two of us.
    “You heard what he said to me, didn’t you?” I finally ask, stirring the ranch dressing with a fry.
    He picks a pickle off his hamburger, pulling a face as he tosses it out onto the tray secured to the window. “I didn’t hear much. Besides, it’s not something I haven’t heard before.”
    “I don’t understand what you mean.” I chew my fry, scanning his eyes for an explanation.
    “I’m saying parents suck.”
    “Care to elaborate.”
    “Not really.”
    When it grows quiet again, he puffs out an irritated breath. “You remember back in, like, second grade how I used to come to school all the time with bruises on me?”
    I take a sip of my soda and put it back in the holder. “Wasn’t that the year you broke your arm?”
    “That among other things.” His forehead creases as he spaces off, staring out the windshield. “That year my dad got addicted to painkillers and he was always pissed off about something… anything. And he liked to take it out on my brothers, me, my mom—basically whoever he could.”
    It clicks what he’s saying. “I didn’t know that… I’m sorry.”
    “No one does. Not even Micha.” He balls up the wrapper of his burger and tosses it out onto the tray. “So yeah, I get that parents can be douche bags to their kids, but in our cases, it was—is more because of the addiction than their actual feelings.”
    I’m not sure what to say other than thanks.
    He tosses an empty cup of fry sauce onto the tray and the heaviness in the cab clears. “You owe me big time, not only for picking up your father but for sharing. I hate doing that.”
    “Ha-ha.” I hand him my garbage and his smile expands across his face.
    To the side of us, a blue Camaro rolls up, revving the engine. Mikey is in the driver’s seat, bumping his head to the music that’s blaring out from the stereo. All the feelings of when he made Micha crash his Chevelle into the tree rush through me.
    “Fucking asshole,” Ethan mutters under his breath as he starts up the engine and lets it roar, pumping the gas.
    I roll my eyes at him. “What are you doing? You’re in a truck.”
    “It’s got a Hemi in it,” he says in a fake Southern accent. “And do you know he goes around bragging about winning that race?”
    “Why the heck is Grantford Davis in there with Mikey?” I ask with shock, staring at the back window of the Camaro. “I thought they hated each other?”
    Ethan starts to laugh. “Grantford is Mikey’s little bitch now due to a lost race. He basically has to do whatever Mikey says. It was part of the bet.”
    Micha would be thrilled if he knew that. He always blamed Grantford for the night on the bridge, even though I don’t. However, it still makes me smile seeing Grantford in the back with his cowboy hat on and a miserable look on his face.
    I tap my fingers on the console while