The Forever of Ella and Micha

The Forever of Ella and Micha

by Jessica Sorensen
The Forever of Ella and Micha

The Forever of Ella and Micha

by Jessica Sorensen

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Overview

From the New York Times bestselling author of The Secret of Ella and Micha comes a new story of hope, heartbreak, and the power of young love.

THE FOREVER OF ELLA AND MICHA

Ella is back at school, trying to focus on her future and forget the darkness of her past. Still, her ongoing family drama is making it harder and harder to get through the days. All she really wants is Micha, but no way will she let her problems get in the way of his dreams.

Micha is busy touring the country with his band, seemingly getting everything he's ever wanted. But deep down he knows something is missing. Being away from Ella is harder than he expected. And while he longs to have her with him, he won't ask her to leave college just to be at his side.

When Ella and Micha are together, anything seems possible . . . but lately those shared moments aren't so easy to find. When a new tragedy shakes their already fragile world, one of them will make a dramatic choice that could break them apart forever . . .

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781455574889
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Publication date: 10/15/2013
Series: Ella and Micha , #2
Pages: 416
Product dimensions: 5.20(w) x 7.80(h) x 1.10(d)

About the Author

Jessica Sorensen is a #1 New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives with her husband and three kids in Idaho. When she's not writing, she spends her time reading and hanging out with her family.

You can learn more at:
http://jessicasorensen.com/
Twitter @jessFallenStar
Facebook.com/pages/Jessica-Sorensen/165335743524509

Read an Excerpt

The Forever of Ella and Micha


By Jessica Sorensen

Grand Central Publishing

Copyright © 2013 Jessica Sorensen
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4555-7488-9



CHAPTER 1

Two months later


Ella

Every night I have the same dream. Micha and I are standing on opposite ends of the bridge. Rain beats down violently from the dark sky and the wind kicks up debris between us.

Micha extends his hand and I walk toward him, but he slips away from me until he lands up on the railing of the bridge. He teeters in the wind and I want to save him, but my feet won't budge. A gust of wind slams into him and he falls backward, vanishing into the darkness. I wake up screaming and full of guilt.

My therapist has a theory that the nightmare signifies my fear of losing Micha, although that doesn't explain why I won't save him. When she mentioned it, my heart sped up and my palms began to sweat. I never looked far enough into the future to realize that maybe one day Micha and I may not be together.

A forever? Does such a thing exist?

With as much time as we spend together I wonder where our relationship is going. The last time we saw each other was at Grady's funeral. It was the second toughest day of my life; the first being my mother's funeral.

Micha and I had been out on the cliff that overlooked the lake, with a black jar containing Grady's ashes. The wind was blowing and all I could think about was how much death owned life. At any moment death could snatch up life and take it away, just like it had done with my mom and Grady.

"Are you ready for this?" Micha had asked, removing the lid from the jar.

Nodding, I extended my hand toward the jar. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

From behind us, the car was running and playing Grady's favorite song, "Simple Man" by Lynyrd Skynyrd, a song that fit Grady and his lifestyle perfectly.

He moved the jar toward me and we held onto it together. "What's that thing he used to say all the time?" Micha asked me. "About life?"

"It isn't as important to feel great about all the things we do," I say softly. "But how we feel toward the end when we look back at everything we've done."

Tears streamed from my eyes as we tipped the jar sideways and spilled the ashes off the cliff. As we watched them float down to the lake, Micha wrapped his arm around me and took a shot of tequila. He had offered me a sip, but I had declined.

My insides shook as pain rushed through me, but I quickly repressed it. Though sunlight sparkled down on us, there was a chill in the air as I observed the lake that seemed to hold everything. It was connected to so many deep, painful memories of my past with my mom and myself.

"Earth to Ella." Lila waves her hand in front of my face and I flinch. "You seriously space off more than anyone else I know. Class got out like five minutes ago ... What the heck is that drawing of? It's creepy."

Drawn back to the present, my gaze sweeps across the empty desks in the classroom and then falls on the pen in my hand, the tip pressed to a sketch of my face, only my eyes are black and my skin looks like dry, cracked dirt.

"It's nothing." I stuff the drawing into my bag and grab my books. Sometimes I lose track of time and it's unsettling, because so did my mother. "It's just a doodle I was messing around with during Professor Mackman's boring lecture."

"What's the deal with you? You've been like super spaced out and super grumpy," Lila asks as we walk out of the classroom and push out the doors, stepping into the sunlight.

I adjust my bag on my shoulder and pull my sunglasses down over my eyes. "It's nothing. I'm just tired."

She stops abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk, narrows her blue eyes at me, and puts her hands on her hips. "Don't shut down on me now. We've been doing so well."

I sigh, because she's right. "It's just this dream I've been having."

"About Micha?"

"How'd you guess?"

She elevates her eyebrows. "How could I not guess? All of your thoughts are about him."

"Not all of my thoughts." I dwell in my thoughts about my dad, who's in rehab and how he won't talk to me.

We stroll down the sidewalk and she links arms with me. There's a skip to her walk, and her pink dress and blonde hair blow in the gentle fall breeze. About a year ago, Lila and I looked very similar, but then Micha cracked through my shell and I opted for a happy medium. I'm wearing a black Spill Canvas T-shirt and a pair of jeans, and my long auburn hair hangs loosely around my face.

"Where should we have lunch?" she asks as we reach the edge of the parking lot. "Because our fridge is empty."

"We need to go shopping." I scoot over as a group of football players walk by in their scarlet and gray uniforms. "But we also need a car to go anywhere, since you won't take the bus anymore."

"Only because of that creeper who licked my arm," she says, cringing. "It was disgusting."

"It was pretty gross," I agree, trying not to laugh.

"My dad's such a jerk," Lila mutters with a frown. "He should have at least warned me when he decided to tow my car back home. It makes no sense. He doesn't want me there, yet he takes my car away because I ran out during the summer."

"Dads tend to be jerks." At the end of the sidewalk, I veer to the left. "Mine won't talk to me."

"We should make a Dads Suck Club," she suggests sarcastically. "I'm sure a lot of people would join."

I strain a smile. I don't blame my dad for his negative feelings toward me. It was my choice to leave that night my mom died and now I have to deal with the consequences—it's part of moving on.

I stay under the shade of the trees as we head up the sidewalk toward the side section of the school. "Let's just eat at the cafeteria. It's the easiest place to get to."

Her nose scrunches. "Easy, in the sense that it's close. But other than that there is nothing easy about ..." She trails off as her eyes stray to the side of the campus and a conniving smile expands across her face "Here's an idea. You could ask Blake to give us a ride somewhere."

I spot Blake walking across the campus yard toward his car. He is in my water base media class and talks to me a lot. Lila insists it's because he has a thing for me, but I disagree.

"I'm not going to just go up and ask him for a ride." I tug on her arm. "Let's just eat in the cafeteria—"

"Hey, Blake!" she hollers, waving her arms in the air, then giggles under her breath.

Blake's brown eyes scan the campus and a smile expands across his face as he struts across the lawn toward us.

"He knows I have a boyfriend," I tell Lila. "He's just nice."

"Guys are hardly ever just nice, and I'm using his little crush on you to get us a ride out of here," Lila whispers. "I'm so sick of being stuck here."

My lips part in protest, but Blake reaches us, and I cinch my jaw shut.

He has a beanie over his dark-brown hair and blue paint spots dot the front of his faded jeans and the bottom of his tan T-shirt.

"So what's up?" His thumb is hooked on to the handle of the ratty backpack slung over his shoulder and he looks at me like I'm the one who called him over.

We're almost the same height and I can easily look him directly in the eyes. "It was nothing."

"We need a ride." Lila flutters her eyelashes at him as she coils a lock of her hair around her finger. "To get some lunch."

"You don't have to take us," I intervene. "Lila just really needs an off-campus fix."

"I'd love to take you anywhere you need to go," he offers with a genuine smile. "I'm headed back to my apartment first, though, so if you don't mind stopping you can just come with me now."

From inside my pocket, my phone starts ringing the tune "Behind Blue Eyes" by The Who and my lips curve into a grin.

Lila rolls her eyes. "Oh dear God. I thought you would have been over your giddiness by now. You two have been together for almost three months."

I answer the phone, loving the flutters in my stomach that are caused from just hearing the song play. It reminds me of how his hands feel against my skin and how he calls me by my nickname.

"Hello, beautiful," he says charmingly and the sound of his voice sends a quiver through my body. "How's my favorite girl in the world?"

"Well, hello to you too." I amble toward a leafy tree in the center of the lawn. "I'm doing great. Are you having a good day?"

"I am now." He uses his player's voice on me. "I'll have an even better day if you'll tell me what you're wearing."

"Jeans and a ratty T-shirt." I press back a smile.

"Come on, pretty girl, it's been like a month." He laughs into the phone, a deep noise that makes my insides vibrate. "Tell me what you're wearing underneath it."

I roll my eyes, but tolerate him. "A red, lacy thong and matching bra."

"That's a really nice mental picture you painted there," he growls in a husky voice. "Now I'll have something to help take care of myself later."

"Just as long as you're taking care of it yourself," I say and there's a drawn- out pause. "Micha, are you there?"

"You know I'd never do that to you, right?" His tone carries heaviness. "I love you way too much."

"I was just joking." Kind of. Lately, it's been bothering me that he spends so much time with Naomi, especially because a lot of his stories involve her.

"Yeah, but you always joke about it every time we talk and I worry that deep down you believe it."

"I don't," I insist, although the thought has crossed my mind. He's a lead singer in a band. And gorgeous. And charming. "I know you love me."

"Good, because I have something to tell you." He pauses. "We got the gig."

My mouth instantly sinks. "The one in New York?"

"Yeah ... Isn't that great?"

"It's awesome ... I'm really happy for you."

Silence takes over. I want to say something, but the sadness has stolen my voice so I stare across the campus at a couple walking and holding hands, thinking about what it's like to have that.

"Ella May, tell me what's wrong," he demands. "Are you worried about me being gone? Because you know you're the only girl for me. Or is it ... is it Grady? How are you doing with that? I never know since you won't talk to me."

"It's not Grady," I say quickly, wanting to get off that subject. "It's just that ... it's so far and I barely get to see you as it is." I slump back against a tree trunk. "You're still coming up here this weekend, right?"

He lets out a gradual breath. "The thing is, to make it to New York in time, we have to leave tomorrow morning. And I'd drive over there tonight, just to see you, but we have a performance."

My insides wind into knots, but I stay calm on the outside. "How long are you going to be gone to New York?"

He takes a second to answer. "About a month."

My hand trembles with anger or fear ... I'm not sure. "So I haven't seen you in almost a month and I'm not going to be able to see you for another month?"

"You could come visit me in New York," he proposes. "You could fly out for, like, a week or something."

"I have midterms." My voice is sullen. "And my brother's wedding's in, like, a month and all my extra money is to pay for that."

"Ella, come on!" Lila shouts and my eyes dart to her. She motions me to come over, while Blake stands beside her with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. "Blake's waiting on us."

"Who's Blake?" Micha wonders curiously.

"Just a guy from my class," I explain, leaving the tree and heading toward Blake and Lila. "Look, I got to go."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, Lila's just waiting on me."

"Okay ... I'll call you after my performance then."

"Sounds good." I hang up the phone, realizing I forgot to say good-bye, but the word wouldn't have left my mouth anyway. It feels like we're slipping away from each other, and he was the one thing that brought me back out of my dark place. If he leaves me, I'm not sure I can hold onto the light.


Micha

"Fuck." I hang up the phone and kick the tire of the band's SUV, which is in the middle of a parking lot of a shitty-ass motel in the bad side of town where crackheads walk the streets and every building has graffiti. It makes Star Grove look classy.

The sadness in Ella's voice worries me. She's still struggling with her personal demons, Grady's death, her mom's death, and won't completely open up to me about everything. There's always a thought in the back of my mind that she might vanish again.

A car backfires as I walk back to the motel room. On the stairway, I weave around a man making out with a woman who's probably a hooker to get to my door.

This is what I'm choosing over Ella? Sometimes I wonder why.

"Wow, you look like you're in a pissy mood," Naomi remarks from the bed when I slam the door of the motel room. She's painting her toenails and the room stinks like paint thinner. "Did you have a bad day?"

Clearing my throat, I empty out the change from the pocket of my jeans and drop my wallet down on the nightstand. "What gave it away? The door slam?"

"You're so hilarious." She sits up and blows on her nails. "What did Ella say to you this time?"

"She didn't say anything." I unzip my duffel bag that's on a chair between the television and the table. "She never does."

"That's the problem." Naomi likes to put her two cents in on everything and sometimes it gets on my nerves. "That she doesn't tell you how she feels."

I grab a pair of clean jeans and a black, long-sleeved shirt from the bag. "I don't want to talk about this."

"But you do when you're drunk." She smirks. "In fact, I can't get you to shut up when you're wasted."

"I talked to you about stuff once." I walk backward toward the bathroom. "And I was having a really shitty day."

"Because you miss her." She clips bracelets around her wrists. "Here's a thought. Why don't you just bring her on the road with us?"

I pause in the doorway. "Why would you say that?"

"Dylan, Chase and I have been talking and we think maybe you'd be a little bit more ..."—she hesitates—"pleasant to be around if she was here."

I cock an eyebrow. "Am I that bad?"

"Sometimes." She gets up and slips on her shoes. "It's like you're the same as when Ella disappeared for eight months, only sometimes it's worse. You're always so down and you hardly ever go out with us."

I rub my face with my hand, taking in what she said. "I'm sorry if I've been acting like a douche bag, but I can't ask Ella to come with us."

Naomi grabs the keycard from the dresser and puts it into the back pocket of her jeans. "Why not?"

"Because she's happy," I say, recalling the many times she chatted to me about her classes and life in an upbeat tone that made me smile. "And I can't ask her to give that up, even though I'd love to have her here."

Naomi shrugs and opens the door, letting in the sunlight and warm air that smells like cigarettes. "It's your decision. I was just giving you an outsider's point of view. Do you want to come out with us tonight? Drinks are on Dylan."

"Nah, I think I'll stay in tonight." I wave her off and she leaves, closing the door behind her.

I pile my clothes in the stained bathroom sink and turn on the shower. The pipes squeak as the water sprays out. Raking my hands through my hair, I let out a frustrated sigh. My fingers grip the counter and my head falls forward.

My mom told me once about how she met my father. He lived in the town over from Star Grove and one day when they were both cruising, they ran into each other. Literally. The front end of my dad's truck slammed into the back end of my mom's car. Her car was trashed, but they ended up talking for hours after the tow truck had come and gone and my dad had offered to drive my mom home.

She said it was instant love, or at least that's how she interpreted it in her hormonal teenaged brain. She was supposed to be leaving for college at the end of the summer, but she stayed behind and married my dad instead.

She said she regretted the decision, but I'm not sure if it's because my dad turned out to be a cheating dick, or if she was just sad over the loss of her future.

I push away from the counter, coming to the conclusion to let it go for now. Ella and I are tough enough to make it through a month.

We already made it through hell and back.

CHAPTER 2

Ella


Blake gives us a ride to lunch and then drops us off back at campus about an hour later. I try to be happy, but fail. According to my therapist, I shouldn't try to conceal my feelings because it's unhealthy. She says bottling things up and letting them eat away at me usually ends in disaster; that suffering in silence is never an option.


(Continues...)

Excerpted from The Forever of Ella and Micha by Jessica Sorensen. Copyright © 2013 Jessica Sorensen. Excerpted by permission of Grand Central Publishing.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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