The Secret of Ella and Micha

history to it,” she says. “And it probably carries a lot of memories for people.”
    I wonder if Caroline is a mind reader on top of a photographer.
    A thin cloud of dust surrounds us as I tap the brakes and park the car just at the brink of the bridge and she hops out with her camera bag on her shoulder. Lila and I trek after her, taking our sweet time, but I halt at the line that splits the road from the bridge.
    “So is this the bridge?” Lila asks, watching me through her sunglasses.
    I stare at the spot on the ground where Micha and I stood kissing in the rain. “Yeah, this is the bridge.” With a quiver in my heart, I step onto the concrete and walk up to the railing. Gripping the bar, I gaze out at the lake, glistening in the sunlight, so much brighter than that rainy night.
    Caroline clicks her camera, getting the lake at every angle while Lila roams to the other side. The wind blows through my hair and I shut my eyes, going back to that night. I’d been cleaning out my mom’s medicine cabinet earlier that morning and had come across the bottle of pills she’d taken to keep her delusions under control. I’d wondered if they’d worked for her and how they made her mind see life. So I took one to see for myself and then headed off with Micha to a party.
    As soon as I’d climbed in his car, he’d sensed something was off with me. “You look out of it,” he said. “Maybe we should just stay in tonight.”
    I shook my head and motioned for him to drive. Frowning, he drove us to the party, but he kept a close eye on me almost the entire night, following me like a puppy. Usually, I didn’t mind, but I grew restless with the desire to figure out what the hell my mother was thinking. So when Micha got preoccupied by a girl, I cornered Grantford and asked him to drive me to the bridge. He had happily obliged, thinking he was going to get some.
    When we arrived at the bridge it was raining buckets of water. I thanked him politely and told him he could go. He was pissed and started yammering something about why the hell did he drive me out here.
    I shrugged and slammed the door shut, stepping out into the rain. He spun away from the bridge, the tires of his pickup kicking up gravel and mud all over my boots. I walked over to the railing and stepped up onto the curb, observing the water through the veil of rain. But it wasn’t close enough, so I stepped up onto the beam just like I remembered her doing.
    It still didn’t make sense why she did it—why she thought she could fly and I don’t think it ever will.
    I jerk away from my reminiscing and concentrate on Caroline, who’s still snapping pictures, with the long lens of her camera close to my face.
    “You’re a deep thinker,” she remarks and clicks her camera again. “And you photograph well.”
    I shake my head. “No, I’m not. Not really.”
    She snaps another picture and moves the camera away. “As a photographer I get to see through a totally different eye. I think it makes me see people differently—more clearly.”
    “Like a mirror?”
    “Yeah, kind of.”
    She turns the lens toward the lake and starts snapping pictures of it. I recline against the railing and scroll through my messages. I only have one, Micha’s voicemail from a few weeks ago. I decide maybe it’s time.
    I press dial and put it up to my ear.
    “Hey Ella, it’s Micha,” he says nervously, unlike himself, and sighs “Well, that was a stupid opening line, so pretend you didn’t hear that.”
    A smile tugs at the corners of my lips. That sounds more like him.
    “Anyway, I’m kind of irritated that you just took off and haven’t called.” He pauses and I can hear Ethan in the background. “Actually, I’m fucking pissed off. I don’t even know what to say. You just bail after everything we’ve been through. Do you know how crazy I’ve been wondering where you were or if you were even alive?
    My heart compresses in my chest. I’ve never heard him so upset.
    “You just bailed out on everyone and people need you, even if you don’t think so. Grady’s sick—he has cancer and...” He inhales a shaky breath. “I still love you… I don’t know what else to say and there’s probably not even a point of saying anymore… you won’t call me back.”
    It clicks and the message ends. It’s not what I was imagining. I’d never once looked at it from his side—how worried he must have been. I send him another text, but again, he doesn’t