The Secret of Ella and Micha (The Secret 1)

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 f**king 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 respond.

***

One week passes and I still don't hear from Micha. He won't call me or answer my texts, and his phone is going straight to voicemail. His mom has no idea where he is either and she's starting to get really worried.

Ever since I returned from the bridge, little images of what happened when Micha picked me up that night have been flickering through my head. Something infinite happened that night, not with Micha, but with me.

I arrive at the conclusion, while I'm sitting out on my porch, staring at his vacant driveway, that it's time to get to the bottom of what's going on with Micha. There is only one person I could think of who might know where he is. Ethan. And I need backup.

"What are we trying to get out of him?" Lila asks as I drive up to the shop Ethan works at.

"Where Micha is." I tell her, putting the shifter into park. "And I think Ethan might know."

Her forehead scrunches as she eyes the open garage door. Ethan is behind a car being worked on, tossing a screwdriver and catching it like a baseball. "But why am I here?"

"Because you're my backup."

"And what exactly is it you want me to do?"

"I'm not sure yet." I bite my nail, assessing the situation.

Ethan is dressed in a nice pair of jeans and plaid button-down shirt, not his work clothes, which means he can leave if he wants to and he probably will, making this as difficult as possible. Especially if Micha told him not to tell me.

He tips his head back and laughs at something his dad said. Then his eyes find my dad's Firebird and his expression drops. I open the door and he throws down the tool and runs through the shop. I jog across the gravel and swing open the front door, leaving Lila behind.

Sitting behind the counter is Mrs. Gregory, Ethan's mother who has the same dark hair and brown eyes as Ethan. She looks up quickly from a magazine and her eyes brighten.

"Ella, is that you?" She gets up from the stool and rounds the counter to give me a hug. "I didn't know you were back, honey."

"For the summer, I am." My eyes skim the room and the shop. "Is Ethan in there?"

She points over her shoulder. "He just ran back into the storage room. You want me to go get him?"

"Would you mind if I did?" I ask politely.

"Sure, hun." She steps aside and lets me behind the counter.

The storage room is lined with rows and rows of shelves holding parts for cars. It's quiet, dark, and the sink has a drip.

"Ethan," I say, shutting the door quietly behind me. "I know you're in here."

"I hear a shuffle from the back corner diagonal from me. I hurry down the tire aisle, peeking through the shelf, and catch him running up the other side. I skitter backwards, hoping to cut him off at the end by the door.

"Ethan will you please talk to me?" My voice echoes back at me. Looking left then right, I exit the aisle. "Look, I know he told you where he went, so will you please just tell me... or at least tell me if he's okay."

He suddenly reveals himself from an aisle a few rows down. "He told me not to tell you where he was."