The Secret of Ella and Micha

My head falls back and my eyes open to the stars shining in the sky. It feels like I’m falling or flying… I’m not sure, but whatever it is I can’t seem to control it. For a second, I want to capture the moment, put it in a jar, and always have it with me, but panic seizes my mind and I jerk away from his lips.
    His eyes snap open and his pupils are vast. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing… It’s just… I have to calm down.” I take a deep breath, my skin still tingling in the spots his hands touched.
    Micha nods, breathless. Carefully, he moves off of me and leans back against the window, securing his hand around mine. We don't speak as we stare up at the sky. He traces his finger along the folds between my fingers and my eyelids drift shut. I feel a wall crumble, leaving behind dust, debris, and pieces that desperately need to be put back together.
    ***
    “Are you okay?” I ask Micha when we pull into my driveway. He’s been quiet the whole drive home and I can tell something’s bothering him.
    “Yeah, I’m fine,” he says with a shrug and then his gaze darts to the back window as headlights shine up behind us. “Although, you might not be.”
    My eyebrows furrow. “Why? What’s wrong?”
    He points a finger at a car parking at the curb in front of my house; a shiny black Mercedes with a familiar blonde-haired driver sitting in it.
    “Oh my God, is that Lila’s car?” I ask.
    “I’m guessing yes, since I doubt anyone around here owns a Mercedes.”
    Lila climbs out of the car and it’s clear that she’s been crying. Her eyes are swollen and her cheeks are red. She has her pajama bottoms on and a hoodie pulled over her head. The last time she walked around in an outfit like that she’d just broken up with her boyfriend.
    “I think she might have some issues at home,” I tell him, grabbing the door handle. “She acted like she didn’t want to go home.”
    “But you didn’t ask her about it?” he questions with an arch of his eyebrow.
    I bite my lip guiltily. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.” God, I’m a terrible friend.
    Lila heads up the driveway and we get out to meet her around the back. Before I can say anything, she hugs me and starts to sob. I tense, not used to being hugged, except by Micha.
    “I didn’t want to go back there,” she cries. “I knew this was going to happen.”
    I look over Lila’s head at Micha for help. “It’ll be okay.”
    He gives me a sympathetic look and mouths, take her inside.
    I nod and he waves at me, getting back into his car. I guide Lila into the house holding her weight up for her like she’s ill. When I get her into my room, she curls up on my bed and hugs a pillow.
    I wait a minute before I speak. “Do you want to talk about it?”
    She shakes her head. “I just want to go to sleep.”
    “Alright.” I turn off the light and collapse onto the trundle. I need to get into my pajamas, but it’s been an exhausting day.
    “My dad hates me,” Lila whispers through sobs.
    I freeze and then sit up, squinting at her through the dark. “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.”
    “Yes, he does,” she says. “He always says so—that he wished he had sons instead of daughters because they’re easier to deal with.”
    “Are you going to be okay?” I ask, unsure what else to say.
    “I will be. It’ll just take some time.”
    Was that the magical cure? Time. I flop back down and fall asleep to the murmur of her sobs.

Chapter 11

    Ella
    The next morning Lila is feeling much better. It’s like last night never happened, but I wonder if it’s an act.
    “I have a feeling that today is going to be full of rainbows and sunshine,” Lila says cheerily as she applies her lipstick, using the mirror on the closet door.
    Against my protest, she took down some of my sketches, so she could see her reflection. “See what, though?” I’d asked and she laughed, totally confused.
    “Are you high?” I tease as I twist my hair onto the back of my head and secure it with a clip.
    She pauses, looking at me over her shoulder. “Why do you always ask questions like that?”
    I slip on my boots and tie up the laces. “What kinds of questions?”
    She blots her lips. “Every time I’m happy, you always ask if I’m drunk or on something. People can be happy without substances.”
    I clasp a watch around my wrist. “Most people can, but not all.”
    Lila clips a diamond earring in. “You look really nice today.”
    I glance down at