The Forever of Ella and Micha - By Jessica Sorensen Page 0,17
than out of curiosity. As I stood out in front of the building, a man crossed paths with me chasing down a taxi. It was my father and I started to turn away, but he saw me and waved. I wanted to return it by showing him my middle finger, but couldn’t do anything except stand there gaping like a little kid.
He strolled over to me with an uncomfortable look on his face. He was in a black suit with a trench coat over it and stared at me with eyes exactly like mine. “Micha, what are you doing here?”
“I’m living here for a little bit.” My tone was sharp. “What are you doing here?”
He pointed at the lofty building with a metallic exterior. “I just got transferred here for work about two weeks ago. I called your mom and told her about it.”
I pretended like I didn’t know it already. “Well, you really need to stop calling her. She doesn’t need to talk to you.”
He eyed me over and his expression turned cold. “So why are you living here?”
I fiddled with the chain hooked to my jeans, inching in my shoulders as a mob of people push past me. “My band and I have a gig at a club for the next month.”
A condescending look concealed his face. “Why am I not surprised? I should have known you’d turn out doing something like that.”
I clench my hand into a fist, fighting not to hit him. “What the fuck does that mean?”
He looked around at the people passing by us, like he was worried someone overheard me. “Look, Micha, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m going to go.”
I turned my back on him and walked away. On the way back to the apartment, I realized that my dad was always a douche bag. Even when he was still my father, he would nitpick every little thing I did and tell me I was wrong a lot.
“Hello.” Naomi claps her hands in front of my face and I flinch. “You’re totally spacing out.”
I carefully set my guitar down on the floor and lean back against the headboard. “I thought you were going out tonight.”
She shrugs and stretches out on the bed on her stomach, crossing her arms and resting her chin on them. “I didn’t feel like it. Besides, you’ve seemed a little down lately and I didn’t want to leave you alone to drown in your sorrows.”
“I’m not drowning in my sorrows.” I take a gulp of my soda. “I’m just confused.”
“About what?”
“About stuff.”
She sits down beside me so we’re both staring at the foot of the bed. “It’s Ella stuff again, isn’t it?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I set the soda down on the nightstand and give it a little spin. “I don’t feel comfortable talking to you about her.”
She rubs her lips together, thinking heavily about something. “Why not? You have before.”
“Only because I was wasted and I tend to get a little chatty when I’m like that.” I can’t talk to Naomi about what’s going on in my head because I owe it to Ella to tell her first. “I basically talk to anyone when I’m drunk.”
“Don’t pretend like you hate talking to me, Micha,” she says. “I know you like to. You’re just too blinded by your own feelings.”
I’m lost. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Suddenly, she is leaning toward me with her eyes closed and her lips out, throwing me off guard as she tries to kiss me. Pieces of her hair fall in front of her face, and for a second, I’m motionless as I think about letting her kiss me—letting her take my mind off shit.
Then all my feelings for Ella catch up with me and I shift away, practically crawling onto the nightstand to get out of her reach. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Her eyes snap open and her pupils are large. “Come on, Micha. Don’t try to tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
I shake my head slowly. “Nope, I haven’t. Not even once.” Her cheeks turn pink and I feel like a douche bag. “Look, I’m sorry, but you know how I feel about Ella, so I don’t know why you’d even try it.”
She slides her legs over the edge of the bed and turns her back to me. “It doesn’t seem like you love her as much anymore. You don’t even talk to her on the phone all the time like you used to.”