The Secret 00.5 The Prelude of Ella and Micha (2 page)

Grinning like a goof, he offers me his hand and hauls me to my feet. He doesn’t let go, slipping his fingers through mine as he leads me out of my room and down the stairs.

The holding hands gesture is nothing new. Ever since we became best friends ten years ago, he usually either has his arm around me, is holding my hand, tickling me, or touching my hair. Sometimes, I think he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Renee, this girl that I sometimes hang out with, thinks it’s because Micha has a crush on me and is secretly in love with me. I laugh whenever she tells me this because Micha isn’t in love with me, at least, not like the way she means it. He’s already kissed like three girls, and I don’t see him ever trying to kiss me. Well, except for maybe on the cheek.

“So how bad did Diana look after the fight?” Micha asks after we’ve exited my house and entered the neighborhood we’ve both grown up in. “I’m guessing you got her pretty good.”

“Of course I did,” I reply as we start up the sidewalk lined with rundown homes. It’s late afternoon and most of the area appears like it’s sleeping. But that’s typical for Star Grove. Around ten is when the yards and houses will be flooding with loud noises of parties taking place. “Both her eyes were swollen.”

He smiles then leans over and gives me a quick kiss on the head. Then we continue our journey down the sidewalk in comfortable silence. When we arrive at the desolate playground, we hike across the dry grass to the rusty swing set in the middle. We each sit down in our own seat and then run back and pump our legs, swinging high toward the tip of the nearby trees.

“Do you ever wonder what life would be like on the other side of the mountains?” I ask as I stare at the rolling hills that encompass the town.

“Of course I do.” He kicks his legs, ascending higher as he tips his head back toward the grey sky.

“Do you think we’ll ever get to find out?” I grasp the chains as I soar. “Do you ever think we’ll get out of here?”

“Of course we will,” he says. “There’s no way we can stay here in this stupid town forever.”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to leave my mother behind,” I mutter. “I mean, who will take care of her if I’m not around? My dad’s not capable of doing so, and Dean’s not ever going to.” Dean is my older brother who is probably home about twice a week, only coming back to change his clothes. I have no idea where he stays during the rest of the week.

“So what? They can figure that out.” Micha’s jaw is set tight, and his blue eyes burn fiercely. “You’re not staying here. You’re leaving with me.”

“We’ll see,” I sigh. “At eighteen, we might not even be friends anymore. I’ve heard high school is rough.”

He’s silent for a while, contemplating what I’ve said. It’s not like I really believe high school will ruin our friendship. I just don’t believe I’ll ever be able to leave Star Grove. It’s just hope, and I’ve hoped for a lot of things I’ve never gotten.

Micha abruptly plants his feet into the dirt below us and skids to a halt. Without uttering a word, he reaches over and grabs the chain of my swing, causing me to jerk to a stop, spin around, and crash straight into him.

“Holy crap,” I say breathlessly as I clutch onto the chains. “What the heck did you do that for?”

“Because I want you to understand something,” he says intensely. “You and I are going to leave this town.
Together
.” He pauses when I stare at him with doubt. Then he thoughtfully adds, “In fact, we’re going to make a pact on it. Right here. Right now.”

“Haven’t we made a ton of those already?”

“So what’s one more?”

“Good point.” Still, I’m a pessimist when it comes to ever escaping this town. Most people born and raised here never leave. But I’ll try anything to boost the odds from not being a statistic. Plus, the future he’s proposed doesn’t sound all that bad. In fact, it sounds nice. “All right, let’s make a pact.”

He grins then spits into his palm before extending his hand toward me. “Ready?”

“You know, we really need to come up with a less disgusting way to make these pacts.” But I still spit into my palm and place my hand in his.

“So who’s going to say it this time?” he asks. “You or me?”

“I’ll do the honors.” I consider my word choice. “Okay, so here’s the deal. As soon as we turn eighteen, we rummage all our money together and get the hell out of here. No questions asked.”

“And where will we live?” he asks amusedly.

I shrug. “How about by the ocean? We’ve never seen it before. It might be cool.”

“The ocean sounds nice.” He muses over something. “Sounds good to me. Leave, go to the ocean. You can become a famous artist, and I’ll become a musician.”

“And we’ll make sure we have better lives,” I add. “Ones we’re happy with.”

“Agreed,” he says and then we shake on it. “Although, I have to say that I’m not sad about everything in my life right now.”

Unlike me, Micha has a stable parent—his mother who I sometimes like to pretend is my own mother when I’m having a rough day. Still, things haven’t always been easy for him. His father walked out on Micha and his mom about eight years ago, and it was both financially and emotionally hard on them.

“I’m talking about you,” Micha adds, letting go of my hand.

I blink my attention back to him. “What?”

He winks at me before walking back with his fingers wrapped around the chains. “You, Ella May, are the creation of my happiness.” He lifts his legs and shoots forward.

I roll my eyes as I back up. “You are so stinking cheesy sometimes. No other fourteen-year-old boy talks the way you do.”

“How do you know that?” he questions as he swings back and forth. “Are their more fourteen-year-old guys in your life that I don’t know about?”

I shrug as I launch forward. “Ethan. And he doesn’t talk like that.”

“He might.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Hey, he’s my best friend,” he teases as we level out and swing harmoniously together. “For all you know, he could talk like that when you’re not around.”

I jut out my lip, pouting. “Hey, I thought I was your best friend.”

“No way,” he says in all seriousness. “You’re way more than that.”

I flop my head back, gagging. “God, stop with the cheesy pickup lines. It’s making me nauseous.”

“Fine, but only if you play truth with me.”

“Fine, but only if I get to ask the first question.”

He smiles. “Be my guest.”

I contemplate. “So, Micha Scott, just how many girls have you kissed now?”

He suspiciously glances at me from the corner of his eye. “You already know the answer to that since you asked me the same question the last time we played this.”

“Yeah, but it’s been a few weeks since then.” I lift my shoulder and give a half shrug. “And I heard a rumor yesterday.”

“About what?”

“That you and Kessa kissed behind the school during third period.”

He shoots me a dirty look. “Fuck no. I would never kiss Kessa Finlany. Who told you that?”

“Kessa.”

He frowns, staring ahead at the playground. “Well, that never happened. And it will never happen.”

“Noted.” I swing higher, and he matches my move, stretching his legs toward the sky. “So the number is still three?”

“Yep, still three.” He grows silent, his face contorting in deep thought as he debates his question for me. When he arrives at his conclusion, a slow grin expands across his face, and I know I’m in big trouble. “So, Ella May, just how many boys have
you
kissed?”

The chilly breeze stings at my warm cheeks. “That’s not a fair question.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because you already know the answer to that.”

“And how do you figure that? I mean, for all I know, something could have changed since the last time I asked you.”

“You know it hasn’t,” I say, feeling stupid. “I pretty much don’t hang out with anyone but you.”

His brow cocks and amusement dances in his eyes. “So the number’s still zero?”

I grip the chains, annoyed. “See, you already knew the answer, so that wasn’t a fair question.”

“Why? It’s my wasted turn.” He sticks his feet to the ground again and this time grinds to a slow halt. Then he just sits there motionlessly as he watches me swing back and forth.

“What are you doing?” I wonder as I kick my feet higher. Strands of my auburn hair slip lose from my ponytail and surround my face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He muses over something, rubbing his jawline. “I have a proposition for you.”

“No way,” I instantly respond. “I know better than to agree to your propositions.”

“Just hear me out first,” he says, using the voice again. “Then you can make your decision.”

Sighing, I plant my feet in the dirt to stop beside him, knowing he won’t give up until I at least agree to hear whatever it is he’s thinking. “Fine, what’s your proposition?”

“I propose,” he starts, seeming the slightest bit uneasy, which is weird for him, “that I be your first kiss.”

I snort a big, old, pig laugh. “Ha, very funny. For a moment, I thought you were going to be serious.”

“I am being serious.” His expression matches his words.

And my expression plummets. “W-what? Why would you ever ask me that? Or want to do that?”

He shrugs. “You have to get your first kiss over sometime, so why not do it with me?”

I scrunch up my nose. “Because you’re … you.” I don’t mean for it to come out so rude. Luckily, Micha knows me well enough not to take it personally.

His lips quirk. “And what’s wrong with me? Am I too hideous for you?”

“No,” I sputter quickly, and he laughs. “That’s not it at all. I’m just …”

“You’re just what, waiting around for the perfect guy to show up? Like Grantford Davis?”

“Ew.” I swat his arm, and his laughter increases. “No way. I would never,
ever
use my first kiss on him. He’s so weird and gross.”

“A lot of the guys our age are weird and gross. Except me.”

“That’s not entirely true,” I say then pause. “But I guess, out of all the guys at our school, you are the least gross.”

“Okay, then,” he states like this solves the problem. “Let’s do this.”

Do what?

Kiss Micha?

God, I’ve barely even hugged anyone, let alone kissed anyone.

I should protest more—I know I should—but a part of me is curious as to why the hell kissing is such a big deal.

“You promise you won’t make fun of me or anything?”

He gives me a
really
look. “Do I ever make fun of you?”

I throw back the look he just gave me. “All the time.”

“But that’s just for fun.” He waves me off. “I don’t mean any of it.”

“Just promise me you won’t tease me, and I’ll do it. In fact, you have to promise not to ever bring it up.” I spit into my hand. “Make a pact on it.”

He considers my proposal for about a half a second then spits into his palm and shakes on it. “Deal.”

As we pull our hands away, I grow nervous because now I have to actually kiss him. And not just kiss
him
, but kiss my first guy
ever
.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I double check, wiping my palm on my jeans. “Because I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I’ll show you.” He’s already leaning in, his intense aqua eyes zeroed in on my lips.

My heart dances like a crazy person in my chest, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. “Micha, I …” I trail off, sucking in a huge breath as his lips touch mine. My fingers tense around the chains and my whole body stiffens while I try to figure out what on earth I’m supposed to be doing. Clearly not just sitting here, frozen.

“Relax,” Micha whispers, putting a small bit of space between our lips.

Thinking the kiss is over, I let out a quiet, relieved breath. But the relief is short lived because, a microsecond later, his head dips forward and his lips brush against mine again. Only, this time, it’s different. This time, he slips his tongue into my mouth.