The Secret 00.5 The Prelude of Ella and Micha by Jessica Sorensen Page B
Authors: Jessica Sorensen
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to leave my side unless I lock myself in the house. Micha knows I’m breaking, and he wants to stop it, but I don’t deserve to stop breaking.
I halt and stare down the driveway at the neighbor’s kids across the street who are running through the sprinklers. Happy. He should be happy. Not sad.
“I don’t know.”
The fence rattles as he hops over it and then hurries up behind me. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“I ...” When he reaches me, he lowers his face and puts his mouth beside my ear. “What do you need from me? Please, tell me what you need.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. His nearness is painful. His nearness reminds me of the night two weeks ago when everything was perfect.
And then it wasn’t.
“I just need …” I open my eyes and dare to look at him. The worry in his aqua gaze makes me instantly regret it, though. Micha sees everything inside me. He has to see the ugliness in me right now.
I should run back into the house and away from him, but I don’t want to go back into that house. Into her house. Into the quiet. With myself and my stupid all-revealing reflection.
I’m pretty sure I can fly, Ella May.
She thought she could fly.
Why did she think that so much?
I need to understand.
And there might be a way.
“I need to go somewhere,” I say to Micha. “To the party going on. By the bridge.”
Chapter 11
Micha
For the first time in my life, I can’t help Ella. I’m trying the best I can, but she won’t open up to me. Maybe that’s why I drive her to the party, even though it’s clear she’s out of it, either drunk or on something. With the largeness of her pupils, my guess is the latter.
The ride up to the party is agonizingly quiet, nowhere near the comfortable silence we used to share. For most of the journey, Ella stares out the window with her arms crossed, watching the mountains, hills, and then the bridge roll by.
“My mom used to think she could fly,” Ella mutters suddenly as the car reaches the center of the bridge. “She would say so all the time. She even thought she could fly off that bridge.”
I open my mouth to say something, but I have no clue what that something should be. I feel so helpless all the time. I fucking hate it.
“You don’t need to say anything.” She shuts her eyes and rests her head against the window, curling up within herself. “I was just mumbling nonsense.”
My heart is breaking for her. God, I wish it was the only one breaking, wish I could bear her pain. She thinks it’s her fault. She told me that. I’ve told her a thousand times that it’s not, yet I can’t seem to change her mind. Her stupid, asshole father and brother aren’t helping at all, either. Both have put the blame on her.
Fucking bastards.
We make the rest of the drive in silence again. As soon as we arrive at the party, Ella hops out and heads straight for the alcohol. The party is going full force, music blaring, a bonfire blazing in the trees. Half the damn town is here. Mad chaos fills the air, but that’s typical. I used to love it, but right now, I’m starting to wonder if I shouldn’t have brought Ella here.
“We should go to our spot,” I suggest to her an hour into the party, “or somewhere more quiet.”
“You can go wherever you want,” she replies, sipping her beer. “You don’t need to babysit me.”
I frown as I scan the rambunctious crowd, the bonfire, the noise, and then her. Since that night, dark circles have permanently resided beneath those gorgeous eyes of hers. Her skin is pale, and I think she’s been losing weight. I want to call her out on her weight loss, but I’m afraid I’ll push her to the edge.
“I love babysitting you, though,” I attempt to joke like we used to all the time. I drape my arm around her shoulder and pull her closer, refusing to let her out of my sight for the night. “It’s my favorite job in the world.”
She tenses then ducks out from under my arm. “Well, I don’t
I halt and stare down the driveway at the neighbor’s kids across the street who are running through the sprinklers. Happy. He should be happy. Not sad.
“I don’t know.”
The fence rattles as he hops over it and then hurries up behind me. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“I ...” When he reaches me, he lowers his face and puts his mouth beside my ear. “What do you need from me? Please, tell me what you need.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. His nearness is painful. His nearness reminds me of the night two weeks ago when everything was perfect.
And then it wasn’t.
“I just need …” I open my eyes and dare to look at him. The worry in his aqua gaze makes me instantly regret it, though. Micha sees everything inside me. He has to see the ugliness in me right now.
I should run back into the house and away from him, but I don’t want to go back into that house. Into her house. Into the quiet. With myself and my stupid all-revealing reflection.
I’m pretty sure I can fly, Ella May.
She thought she could fly.
Why did she think that so much?
I need to understand.
And there might be a way.
“I need to go somewhere,” I say to Micha. “To the party going on. By the bridge.”
Chapter 11
Micha
For the first time in my life, I can’t help Ella. I’m trying the best I can, but she won’t open up to me. Maybe that’s why I drive her to the party, even though it’s clear she’s out of it, either drunk or on something. With the largeness of her pupils, my guess is the latter.
The ride up to the party is agonizingly quiet, nowhere near the comfortable silence we used to share. For most of the journey, Ella stares out the window with her arms crossed, watching the mountains, hills, and then the bridge roll by.
“My mom used to think she could fly,” Ella mutters suddenly as the car reaches the center of the bridge. “She would say so all the time. She even thought she could fly off that bridge.”
I open my mouth to say something, but I have no clue what that something should be. I feel so helpless all the time. I fucking hate it.
“You don’t need to say anything.” She shuts her eyes and rests her head against the window, curling up within herself. “I was just mumbling nonsense.”
My heart is breaking for her. God, I wish it was the only one breaking, wish I could bear her pain. She thinks it’s her fault. She told me that. I’ve told her a thousand times that it’s not, yet I can’t seem to change her mind. Her stupid, asshole father and brother aren’t helping at all, either. Both have put the blame on her.
Fucking bastards.
We make the rest of the drive in silence again. As soon as we arrive at the party, Ella hops out and heads straight for the alcohol. The party is going full force, music blaring, a bonfire blazing in the trees. Half the damn town is here. Mad chaos fills the air, but that’s typical. I used to love it, but right now, I’m starting to wonder if I shouldn’t have brought Ella here.
“We should go to our spot,” I suggest to her an hour into the party, “or somewhere more quiet.”
“You can go wherever you want,” she replies, sipping her beer. “You don’t need to babysit me.”
I frown as I scan the rambunctious crowd, the bonfire, the noise, and then her. Since that night, dark circles have permanently resided beneath those gorgeous eyes of hers. Her skin is pale, and I think she’s been losing weight. I want to call her out on her weight loss, but I’m afraid I’ll push her to the edge.
“I love babysitting you, though,” I attempt to joke like we used to all the time. I drape my arm around her shoulder and pull her closer, refusing to let her out of my sight for the night. “It’s my favorite job in the world.”
She tenses then ducks out from under my arm. “Well, I don’t
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