The Ever After of Ella and Micha

Chapter 23

Micha

“Oh my God, you two and your fucking crazy-ass ideas.” Ethan paces back and forth, flattening a path in the snow in front of my car with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, a hoodie pulled over his black button-down shirt. I went for a different look, wearing a pinstriped buttoned shirt Ella picked out for me, black jeans, and boots, along with a dark jacket we borrowed from Thomas. She made me roll up the sleeves and keep my leather bands on my wrists because she said it made me look sexy. Honestly, I don’t really give a shit what I’m wearing just as long as she’s happy.

“What?” I ask, popping the trunk of the Chevelle. The snow was so deep driving up that I had to put chains on the tires and it was still a pain in the ass to get down here so I’m a little worried about going back. “It’s just a little cold air.”

He shakes his head as he glares at me. “We’re all going to be ice statues by the time this is over, buried alive under five feet of snow.”

“Hey, we’ll make great snowmen,” I joke as I glance up at the sky where light, fluffy snowflakes drift toward the ground, landing in the bare branches of the trees and covering the ice-covered lake. Lila came down here a little earlier with my mom and scattered candles around a flattened-out area in snow beneath a canopy of trees, although I have no idea how the hell they’re going to get them lit. They also tied black and red ribbons all over the branches along with silvery Christmas lights that are plugged into an extension cord that’s plugged into an AC adapter in my car, which means I have to leave the engine on the entire wedding. They sprinkled rose petals all over the snow, which I can barely see now because of the fresh layer of snowflakes on top of them. After they did all this, they took off to go check on Ella and help her get ready. I’m glad she’s not alone, because she seemed a little nervous when I left the house.

As I unload a few fold-up chairs from the trunk, I pretend I’m not nervous, even though I am. Not because I want to bail but because I’m fucking getting married and it’s starting to freak me out. Ethan’s responsibility lecture is fresh in my mind and I keep thinking, What if I screw up? I can’t. Not with Ella.

“You okay, man?” Ethan asks, dropping a few chairs onto a growing pile. “You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine.” I put my foot on the bottom bar of a chair and stomp down on it to unfold it, and then I stand it up in the snow.

“Make sure you line them up straight,” Ethan says as he unfolds a chair and lines it up with the one I just set up. “Lila will chew our asses out if we don’t.”

I smile, but keep my head down as I start forming an even row. It doesn’t take more than a minute to get the few chairs set up, since there’s hardly anyone attending the wedding, but it seems like an eternity goes by. By the time we’re done, I’m fidgety and jittery, a bundle of nerves sparking inside me.

Finally I can’t take it anymore. Adrenaline is rushing through me and my pulse is erratic so I go back to my Chevelle and open the glove box. Digging around beneath a stack of papers, I find a pack of cigarettes that I hid in there ages ago for moments just like these.

“Really?” Ethan questions as I sit down in the driver’s seat with the door open and my feet planted in the snow.

“I just need to calm down,” I say and pop one into my mouth. He shakes his head, laughing under his breath as I grab the lighter out of the pack, cup my hand around the end of the cigarette, and light it. As soon as the nicotine enters my lungs, I feel better and my heart rate starts to settle.

Ethan heaves a large Tupperware bin out of the trunk and drops it onto the ground as I suck drag after drag off the cigarette, my heart calming, my skin warming under my coat and shirt.

“You feel better?” he asks as I graze my thumb over the end of the cigarette and scatter ash across the snow.

I savor another breath of smoke. “Actually, I do.”

He rolls his eyes. Ethan never did like it when I smoked, except I think he used to smoke pot. He would always chew me out, though, for getting ash in his truck and stinking up the upholstery.

After I finish the cigarette I put it out in the snow as a large maroon SUV comes bumping down the road. I wish I had some cologne on hand because now I stink and Ella’s going to know I’ve been smoking. She won’t get mad at me, but she knows I do it when something’s wrong, and knowing her, she’ll think it’s because I don’t want to get married.

The SUV stops close to the Chevelle and the engine stays running as Dean hops out, zipping up his coat. His hair is combed to the side and he has these really shiny shoes on. I remember when we were younger, how he had an eyebrow piercing and was obsessed with the idea that one day he would have tattoos all over his arms and a goatee.

“Hey, man, you might want to go back to the house and check on Ella,” he says, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his slacks as he walks up to me.

I meet him at the front of the car and sit down on the frosted hood, folding my arms. “She said she was going to drive down here with my mom and Lila.”

He shakes his head and hitches his thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the road. “She was… is, but something sort of happened.”

I stand up, my pulse immediately accelerating as the fear that I’ve been stood up again races through my mind. “Why? What happened?”

He looks tense and uncomfortable, rocking back on his heels. “I’m not really sure. All I know is that Ella’s friend… that blond girl, told me I should probably come get you.”

I don’t even wait for him to say anything else. I get inside the car, unplug the lights, and press on the gas, hoping it’s not what I’m thinking.

Hoping she’s not standing me up again.