The Forever of Ella and Micha

Page 20

“Okay, thanks for letting me know.” I hang up on her, clutching the phone in my hand. “Fuck.”
Ethan pops his head into the kitchen. “We’re going to go get something to eat. You down… Are you okay? You look weird.”
“I’m fine.” I chuck my phone onto the table and the back pops off. “And yeah, dinner sounds good to me.”
He nods his head at the front door where Ella and Lila are waiting. “Let’s roll then.”
Once he walks out, I sneak quite a few large swigs of vodka from a bottle I dig out of one of the boxes, then stuff a couple of mini bottles into my pocket. The hospital calling is a painful reminder that my father only came to me when he needed something from me. But that’s not the real problem. I’ve accepted that he won’t ever see me as anything more than a person he used to know. What’s getting me riled up is that deep down, I don’t want to do it for him. I want to make him suffer and that feeling is eating away at me.
I don’t want to feel like that, but I can’t turn off the resentment.
Ethan steps back into the kitchen with an irritated expression on his face. “What are you doing? Let’s go. I’m freaking hungry.”
“I’m coming. Jeez, keep your panties on.” I storm for the door. “And we’re not driving in that damn Mustang.”
Ella
Micha’s pissed off about the Mustang and makes a big dramatic speech about how he’s not riding in it. No way in hell. Uh-huh. The more the night goes on, it becomes clear that his anger is from something deeper, and the car is just a cover-up.
When Ethan turns into the parking lot, I decide that karma hates me, because it’s the restaurant we dropped Blake off at earlier—the one he works at.
I scoot forward in the backseat of the truck and fold my arms on top of the console. “I don’t want to eat here.”
“Why not?” Micha glances at the restaurant’s neon signs and flashy decorations hanging from the sloped trimming of the roof. His eyes are bloodshot and he’s pronouncing his words slowly, which usually means he’s either tired or drunk. “It looks good to me.”
“Because the food’s really gross,” Lila chimes in, unlocking her seatbelt. “There’s a place in the middle of town that has really good ribs. It’ll only take us, like, fifteen minutes to get there.”
Micha shakes his head dramatically and I swear he’s being a pain in the butt on purpose. “Nah, I really think this place looks good.”
Lila and I trade a worried look as Micha and Ethan hop out of the car and slam the doors, leaving us alone in the dark cab.
“This is not good,” I mumble, eyeing Micha as he walks around to the back of the truck. He tips his head back and takes a swig from a bottle. “Especially since he’s in such a bad mood.”
“I think he’s drunk,” Lila whispers as I crack the door open. “I thought I smelled booze on his breath.”
I exhale loudly. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he is, which means we’re probably walking into a drama pit.”
“Are you sure Blake’s working still?” Lila slides over in the seat so she can climb out on my side.
I nod. “We have to pick him up, remember?”
The four of us walk across the parking lot toward the entryway. It’s dark enough that the stars are speckling the sky, and in the distance, the strip’s lights glimmer in florescent colors. There’s a sway to Micha’s walk and he trips over his own feet when he jumps up to touch the top of the doorway, rolling his ankle when he lands.
“Yep, we’re definitely walking into a drama pit,” I utter under my breath as Ethan swings the door open.
Inside the restaurant the lights are dim and the air is musty. It’s crowded and noisy, but there are a few vacant booths. Little lanterns hang above each table and soft country music flows from the speakers.
Blake is serving shots from behind the bar to a group of rowdy-looking guys. I clear my throat and make eye contact with Lila, nodding my head discretely in Blake’s direction. She tracks my gaze and her expression drops.
“Hold on, I got an idea.” She waltzes up to the hostess, a brunette in a white shirt and black slacks. Lila sneaks her a tip from over the counter and then she comes back with a cheery smile on her face.
“It’s all taken care of,” she says in a quiet voice. “And yes, I know I’m the bestest friend ever.”
“What did you do?” I ask, but she just keeps smiling.
When the hostess leads us to our table, I realize Lila bribed her to take us to a corner booth that is secluded away and out of sight of the bar. I want to hug her, but it would be weird, so I sit down and Lila slides in beside me.
Ethan pauses at the end of the other side of the booth. “No way, I’m not buddying it up with Micha. Lila can sit on my side.”
Lila glances at me. “Is that okay with you?”
My nerves jumble and it shows in the unsteadiness of my voice. “I think I—”
“I don’t give a shit where I sit.” Micha’s eyes stray to the end of the aisle. “In fact, I think I’m going to go hang out at the bar.”
Lila jumps up and scurries to the other side to sit with Ethan, inserting strands of her hair underneath the headband. Micha falls into the booth beside me and drapes an arm behind me. He has a short-sleeved gray shirt on and his warm skin grazes the back of my neck. His face looks flushed and his breath reeks of vodka.
Shielding my face with the menu, I lean toward him and whisper, “You’re drunk.”
He blinks his eyes at me innocently. “Why would you ever think that?”
I state the obvious. “Because you smell like vodka.”
“I threw back a few shot before we headed out and a few in the parking lot.” He places the palm of his hand on top of my thigh. “Relax, I just want to have some fun.”
“That’s not why you did it.” I lower the menu back onto the table. “You only drink randomly when you’re upset.”
He rolls his eyes and withdraws his hand from my leg. “How do you know? Maybe I changed while I was on the road.”
“Oh, so douche bag Micha’s going to come out,” I hiss through my teeth. “There’s another reason I know you’re upset. He makes his grand appearance only when you’re angry.”
With his eyes on me, he flips open his menu. “I’m upset because my dick hasn’t gotten any attention for a couple of weeks.”
Ethan snorts a laugh and Lila’s blue eyes widen. I drop my head onto the table, sigh, and stay that way until the waiter comes to take our orders. Raising my head from the table, I discover Blake standing at the end of our table.
He’s wearing a nice pair of jeans, a button-down black shirt, and wisps of his dark hair are sticking up a little on the sides. “Ella, what are you doing here?”
“Getting something to eat.” I keep my tone light, hoping we can skip the introductions.
He has a pen poised against a notebook. “What? You just couldn’t wait to pick me up tonight?” he jokes. “You had to come see me early?”
“Aw, damn it.” I don’t mean to say it aloud, but it slips out, and I quickly slap a hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Micha asks, glaring at Blake.
“I’m Blake,” he replies, adjusting his weight uneasily. “Who are you?”
“I’m Micha.” A malicious look masks his face. “And by that look on your face, I think you know Ella and I are dating.”
“Micha, I think—” I start.
“Ella, just leave it alone,” Ethan interrupts, shooting me a warning look as he nudges my shin with his foot from under the table. “You know it’s not even worth it to try.”
I zip my lips together and focus on the menu. “I think I’ll have a chicken sandwich. What about everyone else?”
“I’ll have you,” Micha says and my cheeks heat as his hand inches up my thigh.
I conceal my hand over his and stop it from going any farther, then look at Ethan for help. “What should we do with him?”
Micha buries his face in my hair. “Anything you want, baby.”
Ethan shrugs and tosses his menu into the center of the table. “You know as well as I do that he’s only going to get more intense before he passes out.”
“I think I’ll come back in a minute,” Blake says and hurries down the aisle back toward the bar.
“Smart move on his part.” Micha sticks his hand into his pocket and reveals a mini bottle of vodka stashed inside it.
I snatch it from his hand and his glazed eyes snap cold. “Give me that back, pretty girl, or else.”
“Or else what?” I chuck the bottle to Ethan and he catches it. “You’re going to say really mean things? I’d rather you use me as your punching bag than someone else.”
Micha narrows his eyes at me and I wait for what’s coming, but Ethan stands up before he can say anything else.
“Let’s take him home.” Ethan steps back and lets Lila out of the booth. “Before he does something stupid.”
I’ve seen Micha like this a couple times and there’s always an underlining reason, but getting to the bottom of it can be tricky. Even for his best friend.
It’s dark and no one has the porch lights on in this section of the complex. I can barely see anything as Ethan fights to get Micha up the stairs.
“Just quit dragging your feet,” Ethan snaps as they trip to the side and Micha bangs into the railing and the whole stairway vibrates.
“If you’d just get out of my way.” Micha shoves Ethan to the side and attempts to take a step on his own, but misses. “Then I’d be okay.”
“What should we do?” Lila asks from a few steps below, uncomfortable with the situation.
Sighing, I intervene, positioning myself in between Micha and Ethan. “Put your arm around me.”