The Forever of Ella and Micha

with an underlined meaning.
    I flinch with guilt. “Yeah, about that night at the restaurant, I’ve been meaning to track you down and say sorry.”
    His eyebrows lift with skepticism. “That’s funny, because it seems like you’ve been avoiding me.”
    I sigh. “Was it that easy to tell?”
    He shakes his head. “Ella, you practically ran away from me when I shouted out to you after class, but I just wanted to talk.”
    I blow out an uneven breath as I fiddle with the zipper on my hoodie. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to say. He was drunk that night and upset about some stuff.”
    He glances over his shoulder at Micha removing the receipt from the pump and Ethan who’s digging out some soda from the cooler in the back of the truck. “He seems intense.”
    “But that’s the thing. He’s not,” I say, defending him with irritation surfacing in my voice. “He’s normally not like that.”
    “Okay, if you say so,” he says tolerantly.
    I rest my butt on the top of the hood, letting my legs dangle over the side as I change the subject. “How come you didn’t bring your girlfriend with you?”
    The gas pump clicks and he turns to take it out. “We broke up.”
    “How come?” I ask, surprised. “You looked so happy.”
    He rips his receipt from the machine and shoves it into his back pocket. “I don’t know. The last time I was there, things just were off.” He rubs his hand over his face. “We’ve been dating since we were fifteen and I think it only went on for that long because we were both too afraid to be without something we’ve had forever… We were together because we were attached to the idea of us.”
    My mind wanders to Micha and myself. We’ve known each other forever. Is this how it will turn out? Anxiety grasps at my chest. I don’t want to lose Micha. Ever.
    “Well, if you need anything, you can call me whenever.” I hop off the hood and my sandals splash in a rainbow-tinted puddle. “I’m not going to be doing anything except for probably getting into trouble.”
    He chuckles as he rounds the back of the car. “You don’t seem like much of a troublemaker.”
    A laugh sputters from my lips and I shuffle over to the driver’s side. “That shows how very little you know me.”
    He opens the car door. “You’re right. I hardly know you, except for that you love to draw, don’t have a car, and think Professor Marlina’s watercolor’s look like paint-by-numbers.”
    “They do,” I tell him in a serious tone. “I swear to God she copied them from one of those books.”
    He grins, glances over in Micha’s direction, and then his gaze lands back on me. “So I have a question.”
    I hesitate. “Okay.”
    He wavers, considering something with his hand resting on top of the door. “So say I’m hanging out at my father’s house and I get really bored. Can I call you? Just to talk.”
    I shift uncomfortably, putting my hands up into my sleeves. “Yeah, if you want.”
    He winks at me and my uneasiness shoots up a notch. How the hell did things shift so fast? “I’m going to hold you to that.”
    I give him a tense smile as I step back so he can shut the door. Waving, he backs out and drives out of the gas station parking lot. As I turn for Ethan’s truck, my body smacks into someone.
    “Are you having fun?” Micha asks in a condescending tone, with eyes as cold as snow.
    “We were just talking.” I move backward and then to the side to walk around him, but he sidesteps me and barricades my route.
    “Ella May, I’m sorry to break it to you, but the guy was totally hitting on you.” He lowers his voice to a protective growl as he leans in and his eyes darken. “And if I see him do it again, he’s going to get punched in the face.”
    “No violence,” I plead with a heavy-hearted sigh. “Why do guys always have to hit each other?”
    “As opposed to knocking someone down to the ground and pulling their hair until they cry?” He edges out of the way of a car pulling in and tugs on my sleeve to drag me along with him.
    “I did that once when I was twelve.”
    “Or biting them on the arm?”
    I huff a frustrated breath and wrench my arm away from him. “Alright, do whatever you want. I’m removing myself from the situation.”
    As I march by him, his fingers grip my hip and he yanks me against him. Folding his arms around my shoulders, he walks behind me to the truck, freeing me only to open the door.
    “I only want to hit him because I