The Secret of Ella and Micha (The Secret 1)

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 the black and purple dress I have on and the boots on my feet. "I forgot to do laundry so I had to wear some of my old clothes, which don't match any of my new shoes."

"Well you look nice." She gives an elongated pause. "So what's on the agenda for today?"

"It depends on what you're doing?" I ask. "Are you... where are you planning on staying?"

She shuts off her phone and then discards it onto the bed. "I'd like to stick around with you for a while, if you don't mind. We could hang out. I don't have anything scheduled for the summer and I'm not going back home."

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"No, not really."

"Okay... well, I need to find a job," I say. "I have to save up for the rest of my tuition since it doesn't look like I'll be getting that internship."

She puts a headband in her hair. "The one at that art museum."

"That's the one and it doesn't start until mid-June," I explain. "But that's only five weeks away, so I figured they'd have notified me if I got it."

"You never know. Sometimes things like that move slow." She folds up a shirt and packs it into her bag, then ties a ribbon on the back of her shirt. "Although, if you get it that'd mean you'd have to go back to Vegas, right?"

Nodding, I head for the door. Two weeks ago the idea of returning to the desert would make me happy, but something's changed. I still want to go, though leaving will be a little bit harder.

I collect my phone off the dresser, noting the flashing voicemail on the screen - Micha's unread message. My finger hovers above the button as I step into the hall. He told me I wasn't ready for what was on it? But am I ready for it now?

"I don't know why you think it's so bad here." Lila follows me. "Yeah, people are a little rough, but they're not all bad and everywhere has bad stuff. You can't hide from it."

"That's very insightful." I close my phone and put it away.

"Bad comes in different forms," Lila continues. "Whether it's drug dealers on the corner or if it's corrupt rich people or just your run-of-the-mill douche bag."

I don't know much about Lila, other than she's rich, her dad works as a lawyer and her mom stays home. She likes clothes, is great with numbers and was the only reason I passed pre-calculus.

My brother's door is open and he walks out as we're passing by. He has a black and red polo shirt on and a pair of cargo pants. There's some kind of gel in his hair and it looks shiny.

"Hey, have you seen dad?" he asks, giving an acknowledging glance at Lila.

I point at the shut door at the end of the hall. "I thought I heard him come in late last night and go into his room."

"He did, but he got up this morning." He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms. "I heard him stumbling around in that bathroom and crying all night, but now I can't find him and I didn't hear him leave. His work called the house, saying he didn't show up, so he's not there."

My fists clench so that my nails dig into my palms. "Did you check in the bathroom?"

Dean's eyes travel down the hall to the bathroom door and he shakes his head. "I haven't and I don't want to."