The Forever of Ella and Micha

a joke. The hospital is a sad place, full of crying and screaming people and beeping machines. It’s like everyone is waiting around for someone to die and it puts an unnerving feeling in the air. It brings me back to the day my mother died and we went to the hospital with her, even though she was pronounced dead on arrival. I didn’t cry, but my dad and Dean did, hugging each other while I stood near the end of the hall, watching the nurses and doctors walk by.
    I felt out of place, like I shouldn’t have been there. Finally I ended up leaving and walked all the way home, curled up in my bed, and stared at the ceiling until the sun rose, knowing my life would never be the same.
    When I reach the psychiatry services area, it feels like an invisible hand winds around my neck and strangles me. I back away from it quickly, bumping into a nurse wearing blue scrubs.
    “What are you doing?” She glances over my shoulder at the shut door. “You shouldn’t be back here.”
    I inch away from her. “Nothing. I was just looking for the restroom.”
    I collect my thoughts about how I might end up in a place like this and I return to the front desk area. Micha is waiting for me in one of the chairs, flipping through a magazine. His skin is pale and his blond hair sticks to his forehead. He has on a Rise Against T-shirt and black jeans and the leather bands that were on his wrist are replaced by a bandage.
    Hiding the lollipop in my hand behind my back, I approach him. “You made it out alive.”
    He looks up at me and smiles tiredly. “Of course I did, but where did you wander off to?”
    “Nowhere really.” I sit down in the chair beside him and he tosses the magazine onto the table. “I wanted to get away from your father.”
    He searches my face. “What did you say to him? Because he came back to the room all pissed off.”
    I give a one-shouldered shrug. “Nothing but the truth.”
    Grinning, he stretches his legs out in front of himself and raises his arms above his head. “If it’s okay with you I’d like to go back to the hotel room and sleep. That took a lot out of me.”
    “Don’t you want to wait for your dad to get out?”
    “Nah, not really.” He drops his hands to his lap. “What are you hiding behind your back?”
    My mouth curves into a grin as I extend my hand out to him with the red lollipop in my palm. “This is for being a very brave boy.”
    He laughs softly and takes the lollipop. “God, I love you.”
    I get to my feet and help him to his. His movements are lethargic as we head toward the sliding-glass doors.
    He peels the wrapper off the lollipop and puts it in his mouth. “As much as I love your gift, there are a ton more ways you could make me feel better when we get back to the room.”
    I laugh under my breath, not protesting, because at that moment I’d do anything for him.

Chapter 14
Micha
    The leaves have fallen from the trees and the air has cooled, but it’s nothing compared to Star Grove. It’s almost time to go home for Christmas break, and Christmas seems to be everywhere. Ella is still being stubborn about it. I try multiple times to convince her to go with me, but every time she declines politely.
    Two nights before Ethan and I are supposed to leave just happens to be my first gig at The Hook Up. It’s Friday night and every table and booth is full. People crowd the bar, yelling out orders to the bartender, a midtwenties woman with bright tattoos on her arms and dreadlocks and a piercing in her nose. There are red and green lights strung up along the ceiling and a Christmas tree centerpiece on each table.
    It’s been a while since I played by myself and there’s unnatural nervous energy pouring through my blood. From the back doorway, my eyes scan the room, taking in the noisy people.
    Someone pinches my ass from behind and I spin around. “What the fuck?”
    Ella smiles brightly at me. “You’re nervous.”
    My eyes stroll lazily down her body. Her hair is done up in this messy twist with bits and pieces framing her face, her full lips shine in the light, and she’s got this short, green, thin-strapped shirt on and a pair of skin-tight jeans that hug every inch of her curves. “Get real, pretty girl. You know I never get nervous.”
    “You look nervous,” she repeats, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth.
    I trace my finger across her red lips. “You look a little nervous yourself.”
    She nips playfully at my finger, startling me and turning me