The Forever of Ella and Micha

entrance door. “I didn’t mean what I said… I don’t blame you. I know it wasn’t your fault.” My gaze meets his eyes, which have cleared of alcohol but still carry so much pain and hatred. “I know it’s probably hard for you to remember, but I didn’t used to be like this. Things used to be good, and then your mother started taking a turn for the worse and everything went downhill. It was hard to deal with, and I handled it wrong.”
    I’m stunned. He’s never talked to me like this before, but he also hasn’t been sober for more than five minutes.
    “Dad, do you regret things…” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Do you wish that sometimes you would have just left and had a normal life?”
    He lets out a shaky breath. “Honestly, yes, sometimes I look back and wish I would have run out. I probably would have been a lot happier. I’ll always hate myself for feeling that way, but it’s the truth.” He opens the door and climbs out, ducking his head back into the cab. “Thanks for bringing me back.”
    He shuts the door and walks up the sidewalk, putting a cigarette into his mouth as he joins the people in the smoking area. A woman with red hair hands him a Zippo and he lights up, taking a drag. I sit in the car for a while and let his words replay in my mind with a heavy feeling weighing on my shoulders. Is this Micha’s and my future? The therapist already wants to check me for depression, which was how my mother started. What if it ends up that I am depressed? What if Micha and I stay together and I start to go downhill? What if I ruin his life?
    By the time I leave the parking space, all I want to do is go home, climb into bed, and shut down my mind.

    “Ella, get your butt out of bed,” Lila demands, jerking the blankets off me. “Or I swear to God, I’m going to dump a cup of ice water on you.”
    The sunlight trickling through the window stings my eyes. I curl up in a ball, cradle my knees to my chest, and cover my head with my arms. “Leave me alone and close the curtain. The light is giving me a headache.”
    She turns down the song playing on the stereo, “The Tide” by Spill Canvas, and sits down on the edge of the bed. She’s wearing a white shirt, jeans, and a pair of high-heeled boots. Her hair is curled up and her lips are stained pink, along with her cheeks.
    “Are you going out?” I bury my face to the pillow and my voice muffles. “If you are, can you pick up some milk? I drank it all last night.”
    She tugs on my shoulder, kind of roughly, and forces me to look at her. “You have to stop this. You’ve been in bed for almost three days… What the heck happened back in Star Grove?”
    “Nothing,” I mutter. “I dropped my dad off at rehab and then drove back here.”
    “What did your dad say to you?” She says it with accusation.
    “Nothing.” I roll onto my stomach and smash my face into the pillow. “Look, Lila, you can sit here and dig into this all you want, but there’s nothing there. I just feel like shit and want to be alone.”
    She dithers and then gets up from the bed. “I’ll be back later tonight with some milk.”
    “Thank you.” I shut my eyes. “And can you turn the music back up?”
    A few seconds later, Spill Canvas fills the room again and I drift off to sleep, happy to let my mind enter sleep mode.

    “How long has she been like this?” Fingers lightly trace up and down my back.
    “Since she came back from dealing with her dad,” Lila says with worry in her tone. “So, like, four days. She barely gets out bed and she won’t eat anything.”
    “What the hell happened?” Micha sounds equally as concerned.
    I rotate onto my side, blinking my exhausted eyes against the sunlight spilling through the window. Micha is sitting on the edge of my bed with his hand on my back and his hair has a little wave to it, which means he’s recently been sleeping.
    “Nothing happened,” I say and they both jump.
    “That’s a lie.” Lila paces the floor with her hands on her hips. Her blonde hair is twisted up and she’s got on a purple lacy dress. “We know something happened.”
    Micha’s is wearing all black, with his chain hooked to the belt loops. His eyes search mine and my insides quiver. “What did your dad say to you?”
    I sit up and his hand falls off my back to the bed. “He didn’t say anything.”
    “Ella May”—he reaches for my face—“don’t feed me bullshit.”
    “I’m not feeding you bullshit, Micha