Ella


I’m proud of myself for telling the truth to Micha and for not worrying too much during the trip, at least so far. By the time I’m dressed and walking out of my room, I’m feeling kind of happy. When I enter the kitchen, however, my good feeling deflates.


Caroline is by the stove, with her black hair wound up out of her face, stirring a pan with an apron tied around her waist. Micha is over by the microwave waiting for the butter to heat up, wearing a pair of jeans that hang loosely at his hips and his blond hair is a little damp still from the shower. Dean is at the table, in slacks and a button-down shirt, and he’s peeling off the husk of the corn on the cob.


“We brought them with us,” he explains when he notices me staring at the corn. “Caroline wanted them.”


“Oh. Okay.” I turn to Caroline. “What still needs to be cooked?”


She shoos me away with her free hand. “You are not cooking anything.”


I pick up a spoon off the counter. “I always cook Christmas dinner.”


“Which is why it always sucked,” Dean remarks under his breath as he tosses a husk into the garbage.


“I did my best,” I say. “And it’s not like I wanted to. No one else would. And half the time no one would eat it.”


Caroline turns the stove’s temperature down. “You are not cooking this year. It’s not right that you’ve spent your whole life taking care of everyone else.”


I glance over my shoulder at Micha. “What have you been telling her?”


The microwave beeps and he opens the door. “I didn’t tell her anything.”


Perplexed, I look at my brother. “Did you…”


Rolling his eyes, he tosses a cob into a large crockpot on the table. “Look, all I did was mention that you cooked for us almost everyday while I was growing up.”


Caroline smiles as she covers the pan with a lid. “He’s been seeing someone about his anger issues.”


My eyes dart back to Dean, waiting for him to snap at her, but he just shrugs and grabs another cob on the corn that needs to be shucked.


“We’ll cook dinner.” Caroline signals for Dean to add something.


He lets out a frustrated breath. “You should go out and do something fun. Be a kid for a change or whatever. We’ll get things ready for when dad arrives.”


“How is he even getting here?” I ask, setting the spoon down on the counter. “He doesn’t have a car.”


“His counselor is dropping him off,” Caroline explains, plugging in the mixer. “I guess he lives about an hour away from here.”


She starts to hum as she mixes some orange stuff in a bowl. Dean focuses on the corn and I stand there unsure of what to do with myself. Finally I glance at Micha for help.


“We could go out to Back Road and spin some doughnuts,” he suggest, setting the butter down on the counter.


“Your car’s not made to spin doughnuts,” I say as he walks toward me. “Hence the last time we got stuck.”


“I got chains we can put on it if it gets stuck.” He steals a marshmallow out of an open bag on the counter. “Besides I need a few dents in that tainted car to make it whole again.” He tosses a marshmallow at me and I open my mouth to catch it, but it pegs me in the forehead.


“But I love your car.” I pick up the marshmallow and toss it into the trash. “I don’t want to see it ruined.”


“I loathe it now,” he annunciates. “My father has officially tainted it.”


“If you want to ruin it,” Dean chimes in, “there’s a sledge hammer in the garage.”


“That’s okay,” Micha replies in a clipped tone as he snatches the bag of marshmallows and tugs me toward the door. Micha has never liked Dean very much. “I got another idea.”


I grab my jacket off the door hanger and giggle as he hauls me toward the fence. He hops over it effortlessly, and then he picks me up by the waist and lifts me over easily.


“What’s your big idea?” I say breathlessly as he leads us toward the garage and snow fills my shoes. “Running it into a wall, racing it until the engine explodes?”


He lets out his evil villain laugh as he opens the garage door. “We’re going to spin doughnuts dangerous style.”


I shake my head quickly. “No way. Last time, I almost got a concussion when you rammed the snowbank.”


“Well, you better man up.” He opens up the passenger door for me. “Because it’s gonna get intense.”


I duck my head into the cab and drop into the seat. “I don’t man up. I’m a dainty little girl.”


He snorts a sharp laugh. “Okay, if you say so.”


He slams the door and circles the front of the car. His gaze fleetingly lands on the twelve pack nestled on the shelf between the toolbox and oil. When he spots me looking at him, he grins and gets in the car, pushing the garage door opener latched onto the visor. Punching the gas, he peels out down the driveway, skidding from left to right and fishtailing it when we hit the icy road.


“Can you do me a favor?” I ask as he cranks the wheel.


“I’ll do anything you want,” he answers straitening out the car.


“Can you try not to kill us?” I say, cranking up the heat. “Now that we’ve started planning a future, I kind of want to have one.”


Ethan and Lila follow us up to Back Road in Ethan’s truck. The sky is cloudy but silent from the snow drifting to the ground. About halfway up to the old racing spot. Micha has to get out and put the chains on the tires. Watching him bend over and get them on is very entertaining because his pants keep slipping down on his hips. When he catches me checking him out, he winks at me and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. I turn in my seat, smiling to myself.


After we make it to the end of the road, Micha gets out and takes the chains back off so we can “spin doughnuts dangerous style,” as he put it. Ethan parks his truck near a snowbank and Lila and he climb into the car with us. The area in front of us is open and packed with snow. Icicles hang from the branches of the trees that border around us and the roof of The Hitch, a rundown brick building that was once a restaurant, has caved in.


With his hand on the steering wheel and his eyes locked ahead, Micha pumps the gas and a cloud of smoke puffs out the exhaust. The tires spin and I cover my eyes with my hands.


“What’s wrong?” he wonders with humor. “Where’s my dangerous girl tonight?”


“I’m having a hard time with the fact that you’re going to destroy the car.” I peek between my fingers. “It’s just too tragic.”


“I’m not going to destroy it.” He picks up his iPod and hands it to me. “You want to do the honors?”


I take it and scroll through the selection, finally clicking on “Face to the Floor” by Chevelle.


Micha grins. “Excellent choice.”


My hand instantly shoots for the side of the seat and I prop my foot up on the dash as I slouch down.


“El, what are you doing?” Lila peers around the seat at me. “And what the hell is this music?”


“It’s Chevelle,” Ethan says like she should know.


She arches her eyebrows as she sinks back in the seat. “Okay…”


“Just put your seatbelt on,” I instruct as Micha laughs, revving the engine.


She obeys, quickly clicking it on and Ethan leans forward, resting his elbows on the console. “Don’t hit the fucking snowbank like last time. I don’t want a concussion again.”


Ethan and I trade looks because the concussion involved him and me smacking heads upon impact.


“I got this,” Micha assures us confidently, shifting into drive. “At least I think… if anyone wants to bail out, now is the time.”


We target an assumption at Lila.


“Hey, I’m not a wimp.” She places her hand over her heart, offended. “And I’m staying in.”


Micha pushes the gas pedal and the tires spin. We lunge forward, slowly speeding up and swerving all over the place as the car battles against the deep snow. Frost flurries around the car as he shifts into a higher gear and accelerates, heading for the end of a road that’s blocked off by a massive snow hill. Shutting my eyes, I wait for it because I know it’s coming. It happens every single time.
“Everybody hang on,” Micha instructs, before he jerks on the e-brake.


The car spins out of control, like a carnival ride. With my eyes closed it feels like I’m flying. I want to stick my hands out and bask in the freeness. Moments later, the car smacks into the bank and the abrupt impact sends me flying for real. I land on top of Micha, banging my head on his as the car jerks to a stop.


“Oh, motherfucker,” Ethan moans. “Fuck. Lila, are you okay?”


“I’m fine,” she assures him with terror in her voice. “But why didn’t anyone warn me?”


I open my eyes and look into Micha’s aqua blue eyes. “Hi.”


“Are you okay?” He delicately touches my head with his fingertips. “We hit heads pretty hard.”


I press the heel of my hand to my head. “I think you did that on purpose, so I would end up in your lap.”


“Maybe just a little.” He leans down and kisses me passionately, sucking on my bottom lip before pulling away, leaving my body suffocated in warmth. “Actually I was aiming for a nice slide in, but I choked at the last second and didn’t pull the brake quick enough.”


I start to sit up, but he holds me down by placing a hand on my chest. “I think you should just stay there for a while. It’s a good place for you.”


My head is resting in his lap and I can feel the bulge through his pants. “Really? Even in this situation.”


His eyes sparkle with delight. “Again, your face is, like, inches away from it.”


“You two better shut the hell up with that,” Ethan warns sharply from the backseat. “It’s seriously getting annoying and I don’t have the stomach for it.”


Micha kisses me again, making an overexaggerated moan to irritate Ethan more. The car door slams as Ethan removes himself from the car and Micha helps me sit up.


“I’ll be back in a second,” he says. “I’m going to get the tow strap out of the trunk.”


As soon as he’s out of the car, Lila dives over the console and into the passenger seat. “So let me get this straight. He got his car stuck only so they could tow it out?”


I waver, cranking up the heat to full blast. “He got his car stuck to make a statement to his father about fixing his car.”


“But his father’s not here.”


“Yeah, it’s more for himself.”


She doesn’t get it and I don’t try to explain it to her. If this makes Micha feel better, then I’m glad. It’s what he deserves.


About an hour later, the car is unstuck. Micha got the tires wedged in really deep and we finally had to bring out the snow shovels Ethan had in back of his truck.


It’s not the only time we’ve been stuck out here and we learned our lesson the first time we got stranded to always be prepared with a snow shovel, tow strap, and chains. Otherwise, it’s a long walk home in below-freezing weather.


After the car is back in the shallow end of the snow, Micha takes the tow strap off and winds it around his hand as he proudly takes in the scratches and dents on the front fender.


“I’m going to ride home with Ethan,” Lila tells me, reaching for the handle of the door.


“Wait, I have to ask you something.” I hesitate and rotate in the seat to face her. “Are you sleeping with Ethan?”


Her blue eyes round as she ties the scarf around her neck. “No, we’re just friends. God, Ella, I don’t sleep with everyone.”


“It’s not that,” I tell her. “It’s just that you two seem close… and I mean, what do you guys do when you’re alone?”


She pushes the door open and steps out, her feet sinking into the snow. “We talk.”


I lean over, wondering what the two of them could possibly have in common. “About what?”


“Life.” She shuts the door, tramples to the back of the car where Ethan’s truck is running, and climbs inside.


One day, I’ll get her to confess to me what is they do. I turn up the music and sing along as I wait for Micha to get in. When he opens the door, a gust of wind blows in and chills the cab.


He pokes his head in, his cheeks pink from the cold and snowflakes speckling his hair. “What? Are you driving?”


I run my hand along the top of the steering wheel. “I was thinking about it. Why? Are you not going to let me?”


“I will totally let you.” He laughs. “But there’s something I need to do first.”


With my shoulders slumped, I swing my leg over the console and sit down in the passenger seat. “What do you need to do?”


He shuts the door, pausing as he nibbles at his lip ring and stares pensively out the windshield at the sky, which is getting darker. “I’m still deciding.”


“We really should be getting back,” I say, checking my messages. “Dean texted me, like, five minutes ago and said dinner is in an hour. I guess my dad is there now and your mom and her boyfriend are going to be over soon.”


“You seem sad that your dad’s there,” he states, looking at me intently.


I stare up at the cloudy sky and the snowflakes falling from the sky. “I’m not sad, just nervous.”


“But I thought the letter made it better,” he says. “That he let you know it wasn’t your fault.”


My breath puffs out unevenly. “Micha, I’ll always carry that night with me, whether my dad says it’s my fault or not.”


“Ella, it wasn’t your fault.” Panic flares in his eyes; he’s worried I’m reverting. “You have to start believing that.”


“Micha, I’m okay.” I place a hand on his as a comforting gesture. “It’s when I don’t say these things aloud that there’s a problem.”


His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows hard. “Okay.”


We sit in silence, watching the snowflakes land on the hood and drift through the beam of the headlights.


When he looks at me again, the lust in his eyes forces me to suck in a sharp breath. “Alright, no more drowning in our sorrows. It’s confession time again.”


“Haven’t we done a lot of that over the last day?” I thread my fingers through his. “I think I might be all confessed out.”


“I have this dream,” he says, ignoring my request. “Well, it’s more like a fantasy… But anyway, you and I have sex in my car. We are in the driver’s seat, with you on top of me.”


“That sounds an awful lot like the dream I had.”


“That’s because great minds think alike. But having sex on the hood in this weather doesn’t seem like it would work, so I’m going with inside.”


I glance over my shoulder at the road. “You want to have sex in the car? Right now? What if someone comes up here?”


“Hardly anyone comes up here in this kind of weather. You know that.” He stares at me, biting on the damn lip ring and my body burns hot with longing. Without even thinking, I maneuver over the console and straddle his lap.


His lips quirk. “I really thought it would take more persuading than that.”


He considers something, and then moves me over to get out of the car. Popping the trunk, he grabs something before hurrying back in, shivering from the cold air. There’s snow on his shoulders and a blanket in his hand. “Just in case someone does show up then we can at least be covered.”


“You keep a blanket in you trunk?” I say. “Man, you are prepared. How many times have you had sex in your car?”


He pulls me back onto his lap and wraps the blanket around us. “This is a first for me, pretty girl.”


“You’ve never done anyone in the car before?” I question with cynicism.


His face is humorless as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I know you saw me with a lot of girls, but I think you totally mistake how much effort I put into it. Doing it in a car is going to be fucking complicated. Besides, I’ve been saving this place for you.”


Rolling my eyes, I fasten my arms around the back of his neck. “And what would have happened if we’d never gotten together? Then you would have never lived out your fantasy. And what if I wasn’t into it?”


He squeezes my ass. “Oh, I knew you’d be into it. As much as you get embarrassed about stuff, cars have always turned you on. I remember the first time I took you for a ride in The Beast. It was a piece of shit back then, but it could still kick it. You were sitting in the passenger seat with your hand out the window and you had this look on your face—you were getting so turned on. It turned me on so badly, I had to take care of myself when I got home.”


“I wasn’t getting turned on,” I lie. “I was enjoying the moment.”


An artful smirk curves at his lips. “If I would have pulled over and asked you to do me, you totally would have.”


I shake my head in protest. “No, I wouldn’t have. You would have freaked me out if you’d asked me.”


The intensity in his face switches to solemnity. “I actually know that. You know, when it came to doing crazy things like jumping off roofs and fighting, you were good to go. But challenge you to face your feelings and you’d run away like you were on fire.”


“That’s because I didn’t understand them,” I utter quietly, staring off into the darkness outside. “Anna… my therapist, thinks it’s because no one ever hugged me or whatever. I don’t know… She says weird stuff like that all the time to me, like she thinks it’s my childhood that made me this way.”


Silence incases us and finally I dare a glance at him, fearing I’ve probably freaked him out with my confession. “I’m sorry. I should probably keep that stuff to myself.”


“I want you to talk to me about stuff, Ella,” he says. “I’m just surprised you did. You’ve never said much about what goes on in therapy.”


“That’s because it’s personal.” My chest rises and falls as I breathe soundly.
He cups my cheek and runs his thumb underneath my eye. “You do realize we’ve crossed the line of things being personal.”


He’s right, so summoning confidence, I continue. “She says I didn’t get hugged enough and I told her you hugged me all the time, but she didn’t seem that impressed.”


He laughs softly. “I remember the first time I tried to hug you… I think we were, like, eight or something. You’d scraped the shit out of your knee trying to climb up a tree and I wanted to make you feel better, so I went to hug you.”


I wince at the memory. “And then I punched you in the arm. I remember… you scared me. I’d never had anyone approach me like that.”


“I know.” He bushes his lips against mine as his finger traces my cheekbone. “The next time I made sure I was a little more careful, although I did sneak in a few arm wraps and pats on the back.”


“It was weird for me when you did it,” I confess. “But there were too many people around and I didn’t want to look nuts by running away from your celebration… God, I can’t believe I was that old the first time I can remember being hugged.”


“What were we, like, thirteen?” Micha recollects, dazing off as he coils a strand of my hair around his finger. “I was so fucking excited that I’d won that stupid bet.”


“It was a stupid bet.” My eyelids flutter as his hand runs through my hair and tugs at the roots. “We all knew Danny was afraid of heights. I have no idea why he even tried to jump off the cliff into the lake.”


“I held my breath the entire fall.” I clutch onto his shoulders. “I think I was scared you’d hurt yourself or something.”


“That’s because you loved me. You just didn’t know it yet.”


“You didn’t know it either. You were just as blind as me.”


“I know, but I can remember swimming out of the lake totally stoked because I’d won two hundred bucks. Plus I was so hyped up on adrenaline. When I saw you standing on the shore in the cut-off that showed off your long skinny legs”—he pinches my ass and I shake my head—“I wasn’t even thinking. I just went over, picked you up, and latched on to you.”


“You nearly squeezed the life out of me,” I recollect. “And you got my clothes all wet… but I did like it.”


He crooks an eyebrow. “It didn’t seem like you did.”


“I did.” I latch onto his gaze, needing to look at him. “It was scary, but nice. Everything with you is scary, but nice.”


His expression changes at my honesty and he leans in to kiss me fervidly, ending the conversation. I eagerly unzip my jacket and toss it into the backseat. He pulls my shirt over my head and quickly unfastens my bra with one flick of his finger. His gaze instantly lowers. Cupping one with his hand, he brings his mouth to my breast and I fall backward, bumping the horn. It honks into the night, but I’m too lost to care as his hand glides down my stomach and delves inside my jeans. Once his fingers are inside me, my eyes seal shut and warmth ripples through my body. The horn keeps honking and “Don’t Wait” by Dashboard Confessions flows from the speakers.


“Micha, I want you,” I moan as he sucks kisses along the hollow of my neck and I can hardly breathe. “I really do.”


He draws back slightly, his eyes penetrating mine. When his lips return to mine, it’s not just about lust or desire—it’s about making us whole.


Rising my hips upward to take my jeans and panties off, I accidentally bang my head on the roof. Laughing softly, he steers my mouth back to his forcefully as I fumble to undo the button of his jeans and then he wiggles them down. Seconds later he’s inside me and I hover forward to stop the horn from honking as I open my mouth, allowing his tongue to devour me. The windows fog up as he thrusts into me and I cling onto him like he’s what keeps me thriving. Because he is.