 
# Suspicion

## (The Star Grove Mysteries, #1)

## Jessica Sorensen
Suspicion

Jessica Sorensen

All rights reserved.

Copyright © 2018 by Jessica Sorensen

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

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For information: jessicasorensen.com

Cover design by MaeDesign

  Created with Vellum

# Contents

An Unexpected Visitor

A Startling Revelation

Cupcakes & Coffee

Red Lipstick & Kisses

The Real Reason

The Journals

Micha

About the Author

Other books by Jessica Sorensen:

# An Unexpected Visitor

Sometimes, I feel as if the ground is about to open up and swallow me whole. And sometimes, on mornings like this, I kind of wish it would. I'd way rather be stuck in some dark, bottomless abyss than have to deal with the shit that is my life right now.

"You're going to have to find a way to bail me out," my dad says through the phone.

It's five o'clock in the morning—on a school day, I might add—and he's calling me from jail. He hasn't told me why he was arrested, but I have a pretty good guess—something alcohol-related.

"I can't bail you out right now." I rub the sleepiness from my eyes then glance toward the window. Awesome. The damn sun isn't even up yet. "I have to get ready for school in, like, an hour."

"Yeah, so?" he slurs into the phone. "An hour's enough time to come get me."

Awesome. He's still drunk. Then again, when isn't he?

"No, it's not. And we don't have enough extra cash for bail money." I scoot to the edge of my bed and lower my feet to the floor. "You're just going to have to wait it out... How long are you supposed to be in there for?"

"Ella..." The slur still remains in his voice, but his tone is now laced with irritation. "I'm not going to wait. You're going to come bail me out now... I have to be somewhere today... a work thing."

I roll my eyes. He's so full of shit. My dad hasn't had a job for weeks, since he got fired for showing up to his last job drunk. It's basically the same reason he was fired from his previous five jobs. More than likely, the real reason he wants to get out of jail so badly is he probably needs another drink. It's all he really does anymore—go to the bar and drink. He's been this way for as long as I can remember, but it has gotten worse lately.

Honestly, I'm not even sure where he gets the money to buy drinks, since we're broke. I would know because I take care of the finances. I have since I was twelve and realized my mother was too ill to do it herself, my older brother Dean was too irresponsible, and my dad... well, I think this phone call explains everything.

"You don't have a job right now." I stand up and stretch my arms above my head. "And, like I said, I don't have time to bail you out, nor do we have the money. And I don't even have my learner's permit, so I'd have to walk down to the station, and it's freezing outside."

I know for a fact it is since 1). it's always cold in Star Grove from September to May, and right now it's November; and 2). there's a layer of frost on my bedroom window.

"I thought you got your license already," my dad murmurs. "You're what, like seventeen years old now? Why haven't you?"

"I'm barely sixteen." I'd be hurt, except he's drunk and probably isn't much aware of anything he's saying. Plus, this isn't the first time he's forgotten how old I am. "And I haven't even taken my test yet to get my permit because I don't have the time." Nor do I have a legal guardian who's sober enough to go with me and sign all the forms. But I don't say that part aloud.

"You've driven before."

"Yeah, but that was an emergency." _When I had to drive Mom to the hospital._

It happened about six months ago. She was having an episode and wouldn't calm down. Dean and my dad weren't home, and I couldn't get ahold of Micha, one of my best friends who lives next door. Micha had his learner's permit back then and would've driven me in a heartbeat, but I couldn't get him to answer his phone that night, which was a bit strange—he almost always answers my calls. In fact, we're usually attached at the hip, along with Ethan and Ollie.

Ollie lives in the neighborhood, too, and has been my friend for years. Not quite as long as Micha and I have been friends, but close. Ethan lives farther away and, honestly, he's more Micha's friends than mine, seeing as how we butt heads all the time.

Anyway, I'm not close enough with anyone else who could've driven at the time besides Micha, and Ollie and Ethan didn't have their permits yet.

My mom was in such a bad place during that time. She's been diagnosed with a bipolar disorder, and sometimes she has grandiose delusions. During them, she talks a lot about these crazy things she believes she can do. For example, she once thought she could fly.

Micha and Ethan have seen her like that and so has Micha's mom, but no one else outside my family has. Ollie hasn't, either. Truthfully, I'm not even sure my brother has seen her have one, since he's rarely around. He graduates at the end of this year, and all he talks about is how he's going to take off the day he's given his diploma. I secretly envy him for being able to say that, for not caring about anyone else.

Sometimes, I wish I could just say to hell with taking care of my drunk dad and ill mother and live my life without worry. But then, who would be here to take my mom to the hospital and make sure she doesn't actually try to fly? Who would pay the bills? Who would pick my dad's sorry ass up from the bar when the bartender threatens to call the police if no one picks him up?

"Look, Ella, just come get me, okay?" my dad says, in somewhat of a panic. "Have Micha or Ollie drive you—they live right there. Or you can have Micha's mom do it. Just find a damn way to get me out of here, because there's no way in hell I'm staying here until tomorrow... I can't." His voice cracks.

I'd feel bad for him, except I know the reason he wants to be bailed out.

_He wants to drink._

"Why are you even in there anyway?" I ask.

He doesn't answer right away, and I start to wonder if he fell asleep.

"I can't remember," he finally says.

_More than likely because he was too drunk._

_He's always drunk._

"You're only going to be in there for twenty-four hours," I say. "I don't need to bail you out."

"Goddammit, Ella," he says, growing more irritated.

I hang up on him.

Yeah, it might be a jerk move to leave my dad in jail, but I've learned over the years that bailing him out really doesn't do him any good. Besides, at least during the twenty-four hours he's behind bars, he can sober up. Although, that'll only last until he's released.

I probably sound like a huge pessimist right now, but there's a certain point where someone's done the same thing so many times that you stop believing they're going to change. Plus, my dad never makes any promises to change, so...

"Ella, are you awake?" my mom calls out from her room.

Worry creeps through me as I make my way out of the room and down the hallway, because it's a little weird she's up this early.

It's beyond freezing, making goosebumps sprout across my arms. I can't turn the heat up, though—can't afford it—so all I can do is dress in layers. Right now, I'm sporting an old pair of flannel pajama bottoms I stole from Micha, along with a hoodie that's Ollie's.

I've always borrowed their clothes and, back in the day, they used to fit me. But when we turned fourteen or so, all the guys hit a growth spurt, and now they're all at least a handful of inches taller than my five-foot-nine frame. They've also gotten a bit more muscular, so their clothes are a bit too big for me. I still wear them, though. And while I'll never, ever admit this to anyone aloud, part of the reason I do it is because their clothes smell like them, and I find their scents comforting. Well, minus Ethan's. Like I said, him and I are more frenemies than actual friends. But Ethan is close with Ollie and Micha, and since I'm close with Ollie and Micha, too, it leaves us both having to tolerate each other if we want to hang out with our mutual friends.

"Ella!" my mom shouts, her voice now laced with panic. "Where are you?"

"I'm right here." I push open her bedroom door and find her sitting up in bed, clutching something in her hand.

She looks exhausted. Dark circles reside under her eyes, and her hair is a mess of tangles, making me wonder if she slept at all last night or if she just lay awake in bed, like she sometimes does.

"What's wrong?"

"I just got a call from your father. He's been arrested and needs our help." She extends her hand toward me. "Take this money and go bail him out." She unfolds her fingers, revealing a wad of cash.

I frown. "Dad called you?"

She nods, urging me to take the money. "And he needs our help now, so go. Help him."

I eyeball the money dubiously. "Where'd you get the cash, Mom?"

She shrugs. "I've been saving up."

Yeah, I'm not buying that, but at the same time, getting her to tell the truth can be nearly impossible. For instance, the fact that there's a Porsche parked in the crappy garage of our rundown house that's in the middle of a low-income neighborhood. The title to the car has my mom's name on it, yet no one really knows how the hell she got it. She also refuses to sell it, no matter how many times I've thrown the idea out there. Part of me worries she stole it, and I've secretly been waiting for the cops to show up and arrest her, but it hasn't happened yet. Still doesn't mean I don't believe it won't.

"Mom"—I choose my next words carefully, knowing that rationalizing with her can be complicated—"I know Dad told you he needs help, but trust me, he really doesn't. He's only going to be in jail for twenty-four hours and for something I'm sure he did... And it might be good for him to stay there. It'll give him some time to sober up. And we should save our money for stuff like bills."

Shaking her head, she grabs my hand and puts the cash in my palm. "We can't just let him rot in jail. We need to save him, Ella. So, take this money and go save your father." Her eyes are wild and filled with worry.

Pressing my lips together, I wrap my fingers around the cash and nod. "Okay."

She visibly relaxes. "Thanks, sweetie." She rests back in her bed. "You're a good kid, you know that?"

I force a smile. While I like it when she's nice to me, I know her upbeat mood is fleeting. And when it nosedives... well, things get dark really fast.

"Have you taken your meds this morning yet?" I ask. When she shakes her head, I back toward the door. "I'll go get them for you, okay?"

She nods then lies down. "Thanks. I don't know what I'd do without you."

I've thought that a lot, too, which is why, deep down, I know I'll never get to leave Star Grove, even though Micha, Ollie, Ethan, and I made a pact that one day we would leave together. It'll never happen for me. Not when I have a drunk for a father and a mom who needs taken care of all the time.

Forcing another smile, I leave her room and go down to the kitchen to get her medication. The counters are littered with beer bottles and dishes that need to be cleaned, the garbage needs to be taken out, and I'm not even sure how long it's been since the floor was mopped. I've been slacking off on my chores lately, so I make a mental note to clean the house today when I get home from school, even though Micha and Ollie will probably want me to hang out with them. I'll have to tell them no, even though I do hate telling them that. And I hate not being able to go out. It's the only time I get to feel like a normal sixteen-year-old. Well, normal might be a stretch. I'm not sure if I've ever really felt normal.

Sighing at the thought, I grab my mom's medicine bottle from the cupboard, shake a pill out, and then fill up a glass of water before heading back upstairs. When I enter her room, she's already fallen asleep and is pretty out of it when I wake her up to take her pill. The second she takes it, she goes right back to sleep, something I'm grateful for because it means that she'll hopefully stay out of trouble while I'm at school.

After I leave the room, I wander back to my room to stash the cash she gave me, because I'm not going to use it to bail my dad out of jail. Then I grab a pair of black jeans, a grey shirt, and some clean underwear and a bra from my dresser before heading to the bathroom to take a shower.

It's not a surprise when I can't get the water to heat up—probably because the water heater broke again—so I end up taking an ice-cold one. By the time I climb out, my lips are tinted blue and my fingers are numb.

Shivering and chattering, I pull on my clothes then comb my strawberry blonde hair, the bottom half of it dyed bright pink. I just barely dyed it. It's kind of my thing to change up my hair color. Pink isn't normally a color I'd use, but I decided I needed to mix it up. I'm not sure if I like it or not.

I decide to put hair in two buns then let wisps frame my face, where the pink kind of shows but isn't too noticeable. I'm not much of a makeup girl, but I have been dabbing on some kohl eyeliner and lip gloss lately. I doubt I'll ever be one of those girls who covers her face with makeup. It just seems too time-consuming, and I already don't have a lot of extra time as it is. Plus, I really don't get the point of caking stuff all over my face just to wash it off at night. And makeup is super expensive.

Once I'm all done getting ready, I return to my bedroom. It's still early enough that I don't need to leave for school, so I plan on getting out my sketchbook and spending some time working on my mid-term project for art class, but when I enter my room, I realize my plans have gone out the window. Literally, since the window is open.

"Dude, what're you doing?" I ask Micha as he ducks through my bedroom window, something he does all the time. "It's freezing outside."

His black boots hit the floor with a _thud_. "Yeah, so? Like that's ever stopped me before."

True, but still...

I move to close the window while he rakes his fingers through his blond locks that hang into his aqua eyes. Snow dots his black jeans and matching hoodie, which means...

I peer outside as I pull the window shut then grimace. "Shit, it's snowing."

"Isn't it always snowing?" he remarks, flopping down on my bed.

"It wasn't when I woke up, and I was kind of hoping it'd stay that way." I sigh, turning away from the window.

"Well, that was very optimistic of you," he teases with a grin.

"I know, right?" I sink onto the edge of the bed beside his feet. "It's very out of character for me."

His smile fades a bit. "What's wrong?"

I shrug. "Nothing."

"Liar." He sits up and scoots over beside me. "You know I can read you, right? Which means I know when you're lying, sad, pissed off... I know everything about you, Ella May."

His statement is pretty true, but not entirely. There are a couple of things Micha doesn't know about me, and I want to keep it that way. Not that I don't trust him with my secrets—I've known him since I was, like, four years old, and he's done nothing but show his trustworthiness. I just worry he might not like me as much if he knew some of the thoughts I had; how I sometimes wish I could just take off without telling anyone and never come back. Although, I think I'd probably end up telling him because I'd miss him too much.

He gives me a funny look. "You look like you're doubting my mad know-everything-about-you skills."

"No one knows everything about someone," I point out, wishing he couldn't read me so well. "I mean, I know a lot of stuff about you, but I'm sure you have secrets."

I swear, for a flash of a second, worry flickers in his eyes, but then a smile pulls at his lips.

"We should play a game of Truth or Dare so we can find out each other's secrets," he says, seeming pretty pleased with himself.

"If we play Truth or Dare, I'm always going to pick dare." I throw him a haughty smirk. "You should know that, if you know everything about me."

A wicked grin touches his lips as he lightly pinches my side. I let out the stupidest girly squeal but don't take off running like some girls would. No, I pinch him back, right on the chest.

He curses, leaning back from me. "Why do you always go for my nipple?" he whines as he rubs the spot I just pinched. "I'm starting to think you are obsessed with them. Is that it? Do you have an obsession with my nipples? Because, if so, maybe I should just show them to you. It might help you get over it." He reaches for the hem of his shirt, a grin forming on his lips.

Here's the thing about having guys for best friends: I've gotten used to dirty remarks. And I've learned over the years that, if I blush, it's only going to encourage them more. And Micha is the worst.

"Why would seeing your nipples help me get over my obsession?" I question. "Are they like super hairy and gross, and I'm going to take one look at them and be so grossed out that my obsession ends?"

He gives me an unimpressed look. "My nipples are in no way, shape, or form hairy or gross."

I bite back a smirk. "You're the one who said seeing them would end my obsession. I was just wondering why."

He moves his fingers away from the hem of his shirt with a frown on his face. Then that frown quickly dissipates and morphs into a grin. "You know what? I'm not going to take what you said personally, since I know for a fact you don't think my nipples are gross."

I arch a brow, pretending to be the epitome of cool, but deep down, his smirk is making me uneasy. "There's no way you can know that since I don't think that."

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, appearing pretty damn amused with himself. "Is that why Ethan caught you staring at me shirtless the other day? And, according to him, you stared for at least a minute."

I mentally start chewing my own ass out. _Do not blush, Ella. Don't you effing dare. You're only going to make things worse._

The problem is that I was kinda, sorta checking him out the other day while we were at Ethan's parents' shop, working on Ethan's truck. It was hot inside, at least according to Micha, so he stripped off his shirt. It wasn't anything I hadn't seen before, but it had been a while since I'd last seen him shirtless. It was when I realized he'd gotten a bit more muscular. Not that he has bulging muscles or anything; he's just leaner and toner than he used to be. And yeah, I may have stared a bit, but only because I was a bit shocked by how different he looked.

I didn't realize Ethan had noticed me gawking. If I had, I never would've let my eyes linger, because if anyone's going to rat me out, it's going to be Ethan.

"I wasn't staring," I attempt to lie, but I should know better. Micha may not know every single thing about me, but he can read me super well.

He tugs on a strand of my hair. "You're really cute when you lie."

I lean back to where he can't reach my hair. "Cute when I lie? Seriously, who's the liar?"

"I may be a lot of things, but I'm not a liar. You, on the other hand..." He smirks.

I pinch his damn nipple again, harder this time.

He laughs, leaning back and rubbing his chest. "You're also cute when you're ruthless."

I shake my head. "I'm not cute, so stop saying that." I stand up, but since it's still early, I don't really have anywhere to go, so it's mainly just to be dramatic. "And you know what? I _was_ staring at your chest the other day, but only because I was so shocked by how hairy and gross and scrawny it is."

Laughter tickles his throat as he shakes his head. "Now I know that's a lie."

"Keep telling yourself that."

He narrows his eyes, but it's a playful move. "Actually, I've been told many times that I have a very nice chest."

"By who? Blind girls?" I mock.

Shaking his head, he lunges at me. He moves so quickly that I have zero time to react, and he manages to get ahold of my waist.

"Hey," I gripe, moving to step back, but he jerks me forward and pushes me onto the bed.

As I land on the mattress, on my back, he moves to climb over me. I know him well enough to know what he's trying to do—pin me down and hold me there until I admit he has a nice chest. I'm not going to go down without a fight, though. I never do.

Before he can get completely on top of me, I shift my legs underneath me then kneel up. He pauses, kneeling in front of me, a smile playing on his lips.

"So, you're going to try to win, huh?" His voice carries a taunt. I know he's totally doing it on purpose, trying to get me all riled up.

I put my hands on my hips. "Do I need to remind you how many of these matches I've won?"

"Yeah, but you haven't won one in a couple of years."

It's beyond annoying that he's right.

"And you want to know why?" he continues, taunting me. "Because I got myself a manly, hairless chest."

I snort a laugh. "Keep telling yourself that, dude."

He narrows his eyes again. "You know what? After I win this one—which I totally will—your punishment's going to be kissing this manly, hairless chest."

While I have zero desire to kiss his chest—at least, that's what I tell myself—I'm not about to back down from a challenge. It's not my style.

"Fine. But when I win, you have to give me some driving lessons," I quip.

"Deal," he says way too quickly, which more than likely means he doesn't care if he has to give me driving lessons.

"I thought you hated letting me drive," I say. "That I scare the shit out of you."

He dismisses me with a wave of his hand then starts rolling up the sleeves of his jacket. "You only scared me that one time you nearly ran into that mailbox, but that doesn't mean I hate giving you lessons."

"Liar."

"I'm totally being serious. I mean, think about it." He starts counting down on his fingers. "First of all, it gives me time to hang out with you, which is my favorite thing ever." He grins as I roll my eyes for at least the third time in the last minute. "And second, I know you like driving, and I like giving you things you like."

His words make me feel stupidly warm inside, and that warmth makes me very uncomfortable. Not that he hasn't said stuff like this to me before; I've just never been good at hearing them. I mean, people wanting to make me happy, wanting to do stuff for me, liking me... it's something I have a hard time understanding.

Of course, while I'm distracted by these confusingly warm feelings swirling around inside me, Micha lunges at me. Thankfully, I manage to jump to my feet and leap out of the way, but he snags the back of my shirt and pulls me back toward him. I reach around to put him in a headlock, but he ducks out of the way and pulls on the back of my shirt, causing me to fall onto the bed. I land on my back with a bounce and hurry to stand up, but he climbs on top of me before I get a chance, putting a knee on each side of me and pinning my arms down beside my head.

"No fair," I gripe, trying to wiggle out from underneath him.

"How is this not fair?" he questions with a shit-eating grin.

"Because you..." I try to think of a good reason, but I can't, so I let out a frustrated growl instead, to which he responds with a snicker.

"Now that's cute," he teases, holding me down.

I glare at him, but I'm not pissed off at him. No, I'm mad at myself for losing.

I hate losing.

"No, it's not," I growl out.

"Yeah, it is." He leans closer, his eyes glinting wickedly. "And it was a totally fair fight, despite what you think."

"That's not true," I insist.

He arches a brow. "And why not?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

I give him a dirty look. I know what he wants me to say. That it's not fair because he's stronger than me, and I know he's stronger because I saw his chest the other day and his muscles. I'm not going to say that, though, because I'm stubborn. Instead, I continue to wiggle around until I manage to get my legs hitched around his waist. I smirk at him as I cross my ankles behind his back.

"Ha! Now it's a tie."

He's beyond amused. "How do you figure?"

"Because I have you pinned, too."

"No, you have yourself latched on to me, which is completely different. And I could get away if I wanted to."

I strengthen my hold on him. "If that's true, then prove it."

He raises a brow. "Are you doubting my mad skills?"

I smile sweetly at him then shrug, an awkward move since he still has my arms pinned beside my head.

Wisps of blond hair fall across his forehead as he shakes his head. "Is that a challenge?"

"Isn't this whole thing a challenge?" I quip.

He stares at me for a beat or two longer. "Fine, if that's the way you want to play..." Then he pulls my wrists together so he's holding my arms with one hand.

"Hey, what the heck—"

I squeal as he uses his free hand to tickle my thigh.

"Micha! Stop! This is cheating! And I freakin' hate being tickled."

"How the hell is it cheating?" he asks, continuing to tickle me. "It's not my fault I know everything about you, including every one of your tickle spots."

"Yeah, but there's a... no... tickling... rule..." I'm laughing so hard I can barely get the words out. I also have to pee really, really bad, but I'm not about to unhitch my legs from around him and lose this match. Instead, I focus on tightening my hold on him, lifting my hips and pressing against him as I latch on to him tighter...

_Wait... What is that pressing against my leg?_

My eyes widen when I realize exactly what it is.

As panic sets in, I jerk my legs away.

Micha chuckles, pinning me back down to the bed. "I win," he declares with a grin. Then his grin fizzles as he notes my expression. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lie and not very well.

His brows furrow. "No, something definitely is."

Yeah, there's no way I'm about to tell him that I just felt his man part pressed against my leg.

"I'm just pissed off I lost," I mumble, hoping to hell my cheeks aren't bright red.

His confusion deepens, but then a grin rises on his lips. "You owe my chest a kiss."

"Can I do it a little bit later?" I ask. There's no way I'm going to kiss his chest while he's...

And why is he even? Because he's turned on? Why the heck would he be turned on while we're wrestling? I know he doesn't see me like _that_ , and I sure don't want him to see me like that.

"Sure." He gives me another puzzled look before pushing off me and letting me up.

I don't sit up right away as I work to catch my breath.

As the room grows quiet, this morning's events start to catch up with me again.

That's the thing about Micha. When he's around and we're goofing off, I sometimes forget about my problems. But the moment a beat of stillness settles between us, it all comes rushing back to me in sharp, potent, consuming waves.

"So, why were you up so early this morning?" he asks, lying down beside me and propping his head up on his elbow.

I turn my head toward him. "How did you know I was up early?"

He absentmindedly plays with my hair. "I was shoveling the driveway so my mom could go to work and saw your light on."

"Oh." I crinkle my nose. "My dad called. He's in jail again and wanted me to bail his sorry ass out."

He frowns. "What's he in for this time?"

I shrug. "Who the hell knows? But since he sounded drunk, my bet is he either got into a bar fight or did something stupid, like piss on someone's front lawn again."

He hesitates. "Are you going to bail him out?"

I shake my head. "He's only going to be in there for twenty-four hours."

He nods. "Might be good to leave him in there, then. It'll give him time to sober up."

"That's what I thought, too," I say. "But my mom didn't agree with me. In fact, she gave me a bunch of cash and told me I needed to go bail him out."

A crease forms between his brows. "Where'd she get the cash?"

I huff out a stressed breath. "Who the hell knows? But I'm not about to go spend it on getting my dad out of jail." I wrap my arms around myself as guilt presses against my chest. "Not when the power bill is overdue. Plus, all that's in the fridge is expired milk and a six-pack of beer."

"You're doing the right thing," he tells me, again reading me better than anyone else can. Sometimes, he can even read me better than I can read myself.

Still, that doesn't make me feel less guilty for lying to my mom and keeping the money.

"Yeah, I know." Sighing, I sit up and brush strands of hair out of my face. Then, not wanting to talk about my problems anymore, I change the subject. "So, how are we getting to school today? Is Ethan going to give us a ride, or do we have to take the bus? And what about Ollie? Have you heard from him this morning?"

He sits up and stares at me for a moment, probably wanting to ask me more. But, like the good friend he is, he lets the subject drop. "Ethan's picking us up, and Ollie's riding with us."

I crinkle my nose. "I'm not sure which is worse: the bus or Ethan's driving."

"Dude, you're one to talk."

"Hey, I don't even have my learner's permit yet," I point out. "Give me some time, and I'll be the best driver out of all of us."

His brow curves upward. "Even better than me?"

"For sure."

"Wanna make a wager on that?"

Not really, since I just lost one of our little wagers like two seconds ago. But like I said, I have a really hard time backing down from challenges.

"Yep, you're on." I stick out my hand to make the deal, but he doesn't place his hand in mine.

"How about we make a pact on this one?" A trace of an amused grin tugs at his lips. "If, in six months, you're a better driver than me, Ollie, and Ethan, you get to drive us on a road trip."

"And if I lose?" I ask. "Not that I think I'm going to; I'm curious what you want out of this."

His smile expands. "If you lose, then you have to go on a road trip with us while we drive."

"That's seriously all you want out of this? A road trip?"

He shrugs. "Yeah. And honestly, I don't give a shit who drives."

I eye him over. "So, then what's the point of this pact?"

He shrugs again. "For you to go on a trip with me, something I know you won't do unless it's part of a pact."

True. I have a hard time leaving the house for very long, for several reasons; one being, like take what happened this morning. Had I not been here, more than likely my mom would've either talked Dean into using her secret stash of cash to bail our dad out or she would've gone down there herself. Then who the hell knows what would've happened from there?

"I'm not sure I can leave my mom alone for that long."

"We will figure something out... Maybe my mom can keep an eye on her?"

I waver. While the idea does sound appealing, I'm not sure if it would work. Not to mention... "Where would we get the money? And where would we go?"

"We'll figure out where we'll go later on," he tells me. "As for where we'll get the money, I'm going to start working at the shop on weekends so I can save up."

"Yeah, but I still need to find a way to come up with some cash."

"I can pay for you. I'm sure Ollie and Ethan would chip in, too."

"No, I don't want any of you doing that."

"Ella..." he starts, but I cover his mouth.

"If we're going to do this, I want to pay for myself." I lower my hand from his mouth. "I'll try to find a part-time job."

He looks skeptical, but all he says is, "Let me know if you want me to help you find one." Then, shaking out his shoulders, he lifts his hand toward his mouth. "Now, to seal the deal."

I scrunch my nose as he spits into his palm. "You know, we really need to find a better way to start making these pacts."

"Nah." He waves me off. "This way is awesome."

"I'm going to have to disagree with you." I spit in my hand anyway and shake his. "Ew, it's all sticky."

He grins deviously. "That's probably because I ate a cinnamon roll right before I came over here."

I pretend to gag. "You're so gross."

"Yeah, so? You're one of my best friends, so what does that make you?"

"Someone who's tolerant of your grossness and who should be rewarded for her patience."

"Oh, you'll be rewarded." Grinning, he stands up. "Tonight, when you get to pucker up and kiss my sexy chest." He makes kissy faces at me.

I pick up a pillow and throw it at him. He ducks out of the way, laughing.

I sigh to myself. _Why, oh why, do I always have to accept a challenge?_

He stops laughing and offers me his hand. "I'll tell you what; if you stop pouting, I'll help you clean up your kitchen before school."

"How about you just don't make me kiss your chest?"

He rolls his eyes then snags ahold of my hand. "That's not gonna happen."

I let him pull me to my feet. "Why? I'm sure you're just as grossed out by the idea of me kissing your chest as I am."

Instead of answering, he pulls me toward the door, leaving me confused, which kind of seems to be my middle name lately.

By the time we arrive in the kitchen, my confusion has nearly doubled, and it's pissing me off that I don't know why. Thankfully, someone knocks on the front door, giving me a good distraction.

"I'll be right back," I tell Micha, handing him the broom I was holding.

Then I leave the kitchen and answer the front door.

Standing on the other side is Mrs. Mapleton, the crazy, fifty-something-year-old woman who lives on the corner of our street. And I say crazy because she once chased Micha, Ollie, Ethan, and I down the sidewalk with a knife. To be fair, we did break her gnomes, but still...

"Hey, Mrs. Mapleton." I try not to frown as I greet her, but seriously, why is she here? She's never been the kind of neighbor to pay a friendly visit.

"Have you seen Harold?" she asks, pushing her glasses higher onto the brim of her nose.

"Harold is your husband, right?" I ask, and she nods. I shake my head. "No, I haven't seen him. Sorry."

"Are you sure?" she questions, narrowing her eyes at me accusingly. "Because the last time I saw him, he was standing outside in the front yard, talking to your mother."

My brows knit. "When was that?"

"Yesterday." Her accusing gaze remains on me. What she's accusing me of, though, I don't have a clue.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Mapleton, but I don't think that was my mom that your husband was talking to," I tell her. "She was home all day yesterday." I'd know, since I was the one keeping an eye on her.

"Whatever. I know it was her." She backs off the front steps. "Tell your mother that if she's seen _my husband_ , to let me know, or else I'm going to have to report him missing."

"Um, okay." I close the door, feeling totally lost.

"What was that about?" Micha asks from just behind me.

I turn and find him leaning against the doorframe. "Mrs. Mapleton was looking for her husband and, for some weird reason, she thought my mom would know where he is." I scratch my arm. "She said she saw my mom talking to him yesterday, but I know my mom was home."

"Mrs. Mapleton's probably just getting confused," Micha remarks. "You know she's a little..." He rotates his finger around his temple and goes cross-eyed. "Remember the gnome incident?"

I snort a laugh. "How can I forget?"

And Micha is probably right. Mrs. Mapleton is probably just getting confused.

Still, I can't shake the feeling that she was implying something by the way she stressed that Harold was _her husband._ Why would she do that, unless...?

Unless my mom was having an affair with Harold.

But I know my mom was in our house yesterday, unless she somehow snuck out.

What if she did? What if my mom is having an affair?

"You okay?" Micha asks, pushing away from the doorframe and stepping toward me.

I nod. Then, not wanting him to worry, I put on my best fake smile that I hope he can't see through. "Yeah, I'm fine."

It's the answer I always give when someone asks if I'm okay.

And I've said it so many times that, sometimes, I can actually almost convince myself it's true.

# A Startling Revelation

Micha and I spend the next fifteen minutes cleaning the kitchen before someone honks a horn from outside.

"That's probably Ethan," Micha tells me as he sets down the dishrag.

I glance at the clock on the microwave. "Why's he here so early?"

"I think he wants to drive up to the cabin."

The cabin is basically a log structure that resides at the bottom of the mountains that surround Star Grove. The roof is caved in, along with the floor. The entire place looks like it could collapse at any moment, which probably makes it dangerous to be there, which makes it appealing to me.

I don't know why I'm like that—why I crave danger and adrenaline rushes. All I know is that my need for adventure has gotten me in trouble a lot over the years.

I grab my leather jacket off a chair near the back door and put it on. Then I reach to pick my backpack up but pause. "So, he wants to ditch today?"

"Yeah, probably." He tugs on a strand of my hair. "You got a problem with that?"

"Yeah right. I'm glad we're ditching." Especially after the visit from Mrs. Mapleton.

I can't get the idea out of my head that somehow my mom is having an affair.

_I need a time-out to think about something else._

"Who's ditching?" Dean asks as he wanders into the kitchen.

His messy blue hair needs a dye job; the brown roots showing. He has on a torn T-shirt and a pair of worn pajama bottoms. And his eyes are bloodshot, which more than likely means he got stoned last night.

"No one," Micha replies before I get a chance.

Micha has never been a fan of my brother's, even though they sometimes play in a band together. Micha plays guitar and sings, and Dean plays the bass, and the drums when Ethan doesn't show up. There's also another guy named Jameson, who's Dean's friend. I think he does a bit of everything.

While I love my brother and everything, Dean can be a huge asshole sometimes, so I don't really blame Micha for not liking him. I think the only reason Micha is in the band at all is because he lives and breathes music, and there's not a lot of opportunities in Star Grove.

Micha is definitely the best in the band. He plays the guitar perfectly, his voice is almost otherworldly, and he writes his own music. He's pretty awesome, but I might be biased, being one of his best friends and all.

Dean cocks a brow at Micha as he opens the fridge. "Yeah, like that sounded convincing..." He trails off as he glances inside the fridge. "Where the hell is all the food?"

I zip up my jacket. "I haven't had time to go grocery shopping, but I'll try to go tonight." _And use part of the money Mom gave me earlier this morning._

"Or _you_ could always go?" Micha says to Dean in a cold tone.

Shaking his head, Dean closes the fridge and turns to face Micha, crossing his arms. "What's your problem lately? First, you get pissed off because I told Ella I didn't want her hanging around while we practice. And now you're getting pissy because why? I don't even know this time."

"I'm pissy because you treat her like shit." Micha nods his head in my direction. "And you act like she's your maid, which she's not."

Dean glares at Micha. "How I treat my sister is none of your damn business."

"She's my best friend, so yeah, it is," Micha snaps, reaching for my hand.

"Guys..." I start, but they talk over me.

"Best friend, huh?" Dean gives Micha this insinuating look that I don't quite understand.

Apparently, Micha does, though, and he doesn't like the meaning, because he immediately frowns.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Looking pretty damn smug, Dean turns around and walks out of the kitchen.

I glance at Micha. "What the hell was that about?"

Gritting his teeth, he shrugs. "I have no idea."

I elevate my brows. "Now who's the liar?"

Micha sighs heavily. "I'm not lying. I just... don't want to get into it right now." He seems twitchy, which is so unlike him.

"Okay." I give a short pause as I replay what Dean said that seemed to upset Micha. "Are you not really my best friend? Do you just tell me that, and then, when you're with your guy friends, joke about how I believe you?" I know I sound childish, but it's the only reason I can think of as to why Micha reacted the way he did when Dean seemed to question if I'm really Micha's best friend.

Micha gapes at me then suddenly busts up laughing.

Confusion dances inside me. "What the hell's so funny?"

He shakes his head, tears of laughter shining in his eye. "You thinking that we're not really best friends."

I'm still beyond confused and kind of getting annoyed. "And that's funny, why?"

"Because it could never, ever be true." He dramatically presses his free hand to his chest. "You're more than my best friend, Ella May. You're my other half."

Again, a stupid warmth starts to spread throughout my body, but I quickly squash it.

"What about Ollie and Ethan?" I question.

He wavers. "Okay, you're like my other quarter, and they're each like an eighth of me."

I smile. "So I'm the bigger portion."

He grins. "Of course. Because you're the most important to me."

I bite back a grin, but I'll admit he's words are making me feel all giddy inside. "You're so damn cheesy sometimes. Seriously, if girls heard the crap you said to me, you'd have even more girlfriends than you already do."

He points a finger at me as he pulls me toward the back door. "Hey, I've never had a girlfriend."

I roll my eyes as he yanks open the door and snowflakes trickle in from outside. "You say that all the time, yet every single weekend, you hook up with someone."

"Yeah, but that doesn't make them my girlfriend."

As we step outside, he draws his hood over his head, while I reach into my pocket to dig out the fingerless gloves that I always keep in there. I slip them on then debate whether to go back inside and grab a beanie or not.

"One day, that's going to change." I lift my hand in front of my face as snowflakes land all over me.

He reaches into his pocket and, like a freakin' mind reader, pulls out a beanie. "Nah, that'll never happen." He tugs the beanie over my head then fixes my hair so it's not in my face. "Well, until you finally agree to be my girlfriend."

He's said this to me many times over the last year or so, mostly because he knows it drives me crazy.

I groan, bobbing my head back. "Oh my God, don't start with that crap again, or I'm going to have to kick your ass."

His eyes glint mischievously. "Like you just kicked my ass on your bed earlier?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "That was an unfair match."

"Keep telling yourself that. Deep down, you know I won fairly. And eventually, you're going to have to pay up." He pulls me along with him as he starts down the snow-covered driveway.

Around the neighborhood, people are working on shoveling their driveways, but with how heavy the snow is coming down, it's probably a lost cause.

My gaze drifts to Mrs. Mapleton's house—a rundown, brick, two-story structure that stands in the middle of a patchy front lawn covered by gnomes.

I try to picture my mom going over there, sneaking in the back door, and...

_And what, Ella? You seriously think Mom is somehow sneaking around like that?_

Normally, I'd think _no way_ , but when I really think about it, there's been a few times where she's managed to sneak out of the house without me knowing.

"You okay?" Micha asks, drawing my attention back to him.

I try to shove all thoughts of my mom's questionable affair out of my mind and focus on having fun. Or at least pretending to have fun.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I glance at Micha's house. Just on the other side of the fence that divides our properties is the driveway to his house, and it's nearly buried in snow. "But I thought you said you were shoveling the driveway this morning?" I look back at Micha just in time to see him tense. But in a flutter of a snowflake, he relaxes back to his casual self.

"Yeah, but it's snowing so hard it didn't do much good."

I have a feeling he might be lying to me, but about what? I could ask, but then we reach Ethan's truck.

Micha pulls open the driver's side door and gestures for me to get in.

I shake my head. "No way. I'm not sitting bitch again."

"Jesus, do we have to do this every time?" Ethan grumbles from the driver's seat. "Just get in the truck. I've got shit to do this morning." He has a knitted cap pulled over his dark hair, a hooded jacket on, and a cigarette is resting between his fingers, the smoke lacing out through the cracked open window.

While I may only be frienemies with Ethan, I'll admit he's good looking. A lot of girls think so, too. But, unlike Micha, Ethan's more of a subtle flirt. In fact, a lot of girls think he's mysterious and brooding. Really, though, he's just subtle about his cockiness.

"You say that every morning," I remark. When he scowls at me, I smile sweetly at him. "What? You do. And yet, you never actually have anything to do."

"I'm driving your asses around, aren't I?" he quips, ashing his cigarette out the window. "And besides, this morning, I do have stuff to do."

"What?" Micha and I ask simultaneously.

He shrugs, cranking up the heat. "I'm meeting some people up at the cabin."

"Who?" Micha asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Renee, Jane, Jay, and Steve," he says. "There might be more, but who the hell knows?"

I wrap my arms around myself as the cold starts to seep through my clothes. "So, everyone's ditching today?"

"Yeah," Ethan replies. "It should be a snow day anyway."

"Every day should be a snow day here," I point out then step back and motion for Micha to get in the truck.

He shakes his head. "As much as I love giving you your way, Ethan will have a shit-fit if I try to cuddle up with him while he's driving."

"Just because I'm the chick in our group, doesn't mean I always have to sit bitch," I reply, refusing to budge.

"It's not because you're a chick," Micha insists. "It's because you're the smallest. And besides, Ollie's gonna be the one sitting bitch after we pick him up."

I point a finger at him. " I'm not sitting on your lap again."

He cocks a brow at me. "What? You want me to sit on _your_ lap instead?"

I shake my head then smirk. "Nah, Ollie can just sit on your lap, you know, while you're sitting bitch."

He gives me a _hardy har har_ look. "I'm not letting Ollie sit on my lap."

"Why? Guys can sit on each other's laps. It's not a big deal."

"I know it's not a big deal, and Ethan's sat on my lap a couple of times when there was no other choice. But he's heavy as hell. Seriously, the guy's ass is huge."

"What the fuck, man?" Ethan says, giving Micha a dirty look.

Micha and I snicker, but then we grow quiet as we stare each other down in a silent challenge. It's something we do, and the first one to blink, look away, or make a noise loses. And there's no way I'm gonna lose again.

"Good God, would you two please just get in here?" Ethan finally says, breaking the tension. "You're letting all the cold air in, and it's freezing my fat ass."

That gets me to choke on a laugh.

"Ha!" Micha declares. "You lost."

I scowl at him, but he just continues to grin. Then I cross my arms defiantly.

"Micha, just put her in the truck so we can go. I'm supposed to pick up Renee in, like, ten minutes," Ethan tells him.

"Are you two, like, dating now?" I snicker at Ethan, knowing my remark is going to piss him off.

He glares at me. "Ha, ha, you're a fucking riot." He gives Micha a pressing look with his brows raised.

I know them well enough to understand they're having a silent conversation about me, probably one that has to do with getting me in the truck.

I start to move back when Micha loops his arms around my waist and lifts me up.

"Hey! Not fair," I whine as he hoists me onto the seat. Then he pushes me toward the middle, hurriedly climbs inside, and shuts the door.

I sulk as I get situated in the seat with Micha pressed against one side of me and Ethan against the other.

"Payback's going to be a bitch," I threaten both of them, but Micha only smiles and Ethan just shrugs.

Micha grabs Ethan's pack of cigarettes from off the dash, lights up, and cracks the window. Cold air and smoke fill the cab as Ethan backs down the driveway and onto the icy road.

He drives a few houses down then pulls up in front of the single-story house that Ollie lives in, that just so happens to be located next door to Mrs. Mapleton, who's standing outside on her front porch with a cup of coffee in her hand. She's staring out at the road, looking completely zoned out.

"It's weird she came over to my house this morning looking for her husband," I say while watching her take a sip of coffee.

"Why'd she think he was at your place?" Ethan asks me as he lays on the horn.

I shrug. "She thought she saw my mom talking to him yesterday, but I know she didn't because I was home with her all day."

Ethan glances at Mrs. Mapleton. "I wouldn't stress about it. From what I heard, she's kind of crazy."

"Yeah, but people say that about my mom, too," I mutter, feeling that familiar heaviness building in my chest.

Ethan offers me an apologetic look, a rare occurrence for him. "Your mom's not crazy. She just has a mental health issue."

"Maybe Mrs. Mapleton does, too," I tell him, glancing back at the older woman who's now... trying to get her gnomes to drink from her coffee mug.

Ethan and Micha are both watching her, too, as she puts the brim of the mug up to the gnome's lips.

"Does she think they're alive?" Micha wonders as he drapes his arm along the back of the seat, the crook of it brushing against the back of my head.

"She was always really weird about them," I remind him. "Maybe that's why—'cause she thinks they're alive."

Ethan and Micha both snicker at that, and then Micha opens his mouth to say something else, but then Ollie appears by the passenger side door, opening it.

Ollie is definitely the quieter of the three of us, but for sure the sweetest. He has inky black hair that hangs in his really bright green eyes and almost always dresses in all black. Today, he has on all black, except he's sporting a pair of bright red sneakers, which is a little bright for his style but looks cool.

"Hey," he greets us then pauses, tracking our gazes. "Why're you guys all staring at Mrs. Mapleton?" he asks, returning his questioning gaze to us.

I shrug. " 'Cause we're trying to decide if she's crazy."

"Oh." That answer seems to satisfy him. "Where am I sitting?"

"Bitch," Micha informs him, lighting up a cigarette.

Ollie glances at me, his lips quirking. "So, on Ella's lap."

I grin back at him. "Yep, so hop on." I pat my lap, and he laughs.

"I really wasn't trying to be funny," I inform him.

Ollie studies me for a moment with a sparkle in his eyes before glancing at Micha.

"Don't worry; she's sitting on my lap," he tells Ollie, then hops out of the truck.

I shake my head, getting annoyed again. "This is bullcrap."

"It's your own fault for being the smallest," Ethan tells me as he discards his cigarette out the window.

I cross my arms and arch a brow at him. "And how is that my fault?"

He just shrugs, and I let out a groan but surrender, even though it makes my jaw tick. But it's cold, and I know I'm outnumbered.

Grimacing, I scoot to the edge of the seat and hop out into the snow.

"You owe me," I warn Ollie, pointing my finger at him.

"How about I buy you a cupcake for breakfast?" he offers as snow dots his hair and jacket.

"With extra frosting?" I ask.

He struggles not to smile. "Of course."

"Okay then." I pretend to be all serious, but I'm on the verge of grinning.

Ollie lets his smile break through as he moves to get into the truck. As he passes me, he tugs lightly on a strand of my hair. "I like the pink hair," he says. "It looks cute."

"Thanks," I tell him, my cheeks growing warm.

I hate this little trait about me. I rarely get embarrassed unless I get a compliment. Then I turn into a freakin' blushing idiot.

"It does look cute," Micha agrees, his hands finding my waist. "I was surprised you chose pink, though. That's not normally your MO."

"I know," I tell him. "I guess I was feeling a bit daring. Well, that and Renee talked me into it."

Renee is a girl I sometimes hang out with when I feel like I need some girl time, which is rarer than me blushing.

Once we all pile in the car, with Ollie in the middle and me on Micha's lap, we have to roll down the windows because it's getting so muggy in the cab. Snow is fluttering in through the windows and making the air chilly. At least for me. The guys seem fine. Ollie notices me shivering, though.

"You're cold." It's not a question. Ollie knows me almost as well as Micha does. So, when I shake my head, he sighs. "Don't lie to me Ellie," he warns, using the nickname he gave me when we first met.

We were about six, and he thought I said my name was Ellie instead of Ella. I was too quiet to correct him. Micha eventually called me Ella in front of him, so he caught on, on his own. But he still sometimes calls me Ellie just for fun, like Micha sometimes calls me Pretty Girl. Although, I'm not a huge fan of that one because it's not fitting.

"I'm not lying," I insist, but I'm shivering, which is totally noticeable.

Shaking his head, he shucks off his hoodie. "Here. Cover up with this." He tries to hand it to me.

I shake my head. "No way. You'll freeze."

He rolls his eyes. "I have a long-sleeved shirt on, and I run hotter than you do." He hands me the hoodie.

Sighing, I take it from him and drape it over the front of me, the scent of his cologne flooding my nostrils, and I secretly breathe it in.

"That's not even close to being true," Micha mutters as he loops an arm around my waist.

It takes me a moment to process what he's saying, and when I do, I narrow my eyes at him. "I'm not hot."

He just lifts his brows and looks out the window.

My lip twitches in annoyance, and I look at Ollie for help. "Ollie, tell Micha to stop calling me hot," I say, knowing he'll take my side, because he almost always does.

But he hesitates.

"You want me to lie?"

Annoyance burns through me, but not as hotly as my embarrassment, my cheeks managing to warm even through the cold. I hate that I've gotten embarrassed again, so I do the only thing I can do. I turn to Ethan, knowing that if anyone will back me up on this, it's him.

"Ethan, a little help here?" I ask, leaning forward to catch his eye.

He glances at me then focuses on the road, coughing into his hand. "So, anyway, do we need to make any stops first before we head up to the cabin?"

The guys start chatting then, leaving me to sit there quietly and overanalyze what the heck just happened. I mean, Ollie and Micha give me compliments all the time, but Ethan never does. And he always jumps at the opportunity to tease me or tell me things that drive me absolutely crazy. Like I said before, we're frienemies, so why didn't he agree with me that I'm not hot?

Unless he was just doing it to not agree with me.

That's got to be it.

"We need to stop and get breakfast from somewhere," Micha says, his finger brushing along my hipbone and drawing me from my thoughts.

"We will after we pick up Renee," Ethan says, turning down a side street and heading in the direction of Renee's house.

"Wait—Renee's riding with us?" I interrupt. "Where the heck is she gonna sit?"

Ethan wavers, chewing on his bottom lip. "Yeah, I didn't really think about that."

"You could always just have her sit in the back," Micha suggests snidely. He's not really a Renee fan. Not sure why.

Ollie chokes on a laugh, and Ethan shakes his head.

"I'm not making her sit in the back," he says. "She can sit on Ollie's lap or something."

Ollie promptly shakes his head. "No way, dude. Make her sit on Micha's lap."

"Ella is sitting on Micha's lap," I remind him.

"And apparently has started referring to herself in the third person," Micha teases with a grin.

I roll my eyes at him, but his smile just grows.

"Well, tell Ella that she can sit on my lap," Ollie says to me with a teasing smile. It's a rare occurrence for him.

Like me, Ollie has unstable parents that like to party a lot and try to skip paying the bills. In fact, his dad has been arrested with my dad a few times over the years. His mom, though, isn't like my mom—she doesn't have any mental health issues. She's mean, though, and she's abusive to him and his brothers. I know this because Ollie once opened up to me about it. We were eight at the time, and he came to school with bruises all over him. He told everyone he fell down the stairs, but he was being really quiet that day. I know firsthand what it's like to keep secrets about my home life, and I could sense something was up. So, I decided to ask him about it. It took me a bit, but I managed to get him to confess to me that he really did fall down the stairs... after he stumbled because his mom smacked him.

"But you can't tell anyone," he had quickly said to me in a panic after he had confessed. "If you do, then they could take me and my brothers away. And I don't want that... I can't be away from my brothers." He had paused, looking at the ground. "Or you. You're one of my best friends."

My heart had warmed a little bit at that. Although, it was still filled mostly with worry for him. "You're one of my best friends, too."

He glanced up at me. "Yeah?"

I nod. "You and Micha are."

He smiled brightly, but then his smile fizzled a bit, a worried line replacing it. "You won't tell anyone then?"

Part of me wanted to, but the other part understood where he was coming from. And I had been smacked around by my own parents on occasion. Not enough that I fell down the stairs, but still...

"I will on one condition," I said. "If she ever hurts you again, you'll come to me and tell me. You can even come stay at my house if you need to."

He had nodded, we pinkie swore on it, and that was that.

Ethan's life is a little bit different than Ollie's and mine. His parents are pretty decent, at least as far as I can tell. They've been married forever, and Ethan is one of four siblings. They own an auto shop, so they have a steady income. His mom is really nice. His dad's kind of grumpy, but so's mine.

And then there's Micha's family. He's the only child, and his dad abandoned him when he was younger. Right after it happened, I caught him crying in his garage and did my best to cheer him up, but he was pretty upset about it for a while and understandably. Eventually, he let it go. It probably helps that his mom is awesome. She really is. I honestly think of her as a second mom, and she's really the only adult I know who tries to take care of me.

"Ella's staying on my lap," Micha argues, drawing my attention back to the conversation. "She's already on it, anyway."

"So?" Ollie questions. "She's gonna have to get off when Renee climbs in. Or she could just scoot over onto mine."

"Nah," Micha says dismissively. "Pretty Girl's sitting on my lap. You can have Renee."

"I don't want Renee," Ollie argues again, shoving up the sleeves of his shirt.

"Poor Renee," I say. "You guys are sitting here, fighting over her, but not in the way she probably wants."

"Yeah, well, she brings it on herself for being so annoying," Micha says, twisting me slightly on his lap so he can look me in the eye. "You, on the other hand, are perfect."

"Dude, I think I just vomited a little bit in my mouth," Ethan mumbles as he turns into the local café.

"Me, too," I agree with him, causing him to smile slightly.

"Oh my God!" I exclaim. "Did Ethan just smile at something I said?"

He presses his smile into a thin line and narrows his eyes at me. "No, I had an itch on my lip."

"Liar," I tease, and Ollie chuckles.

"Don't worry, man," Ollie tells Ethan, "we won't tell anyone. Although, the person you probably don't want finding out already knows. Don't worry, though; I hear she's pretty cool." He flashes me a small smile.

I stick out my fist for a fist bump, and he taps his knuckles against mine. That's when I noticed the scrapes on his knuckles, as if he's gotten into a fistfight. Which whatever. It's no biggie. We've all gotten into our fair share of fights. The thing that gets me suspicious, though, is that, when he notices my line of sight, he hurriedly crosses his arms so that his hands are tucked underneath his armpits, hidden from my view.

I want to ask him what happened so badly, but I'll wait until Micha and Ethan aren't around.

"Why are we even picking Renee up?" Micha asks as Ethan parks the truck in a parking space in front of the café. "I thought she annoyed the shit out of you?"

He lifts a shoulder as he shifts the truck into park. "She does most of the time, but she's hot, so..." He shrugs again.

I let out a groan. "God, guys are so shallow. _I don't like her_ "—I make my voice a deep baritone—"but she's hot, so I'll make out with her."

"Not all guys are like that," Ollie says quietly while fidgeting with a leather band that's around his wrist.

"Says the virgin kisser," Ethan remarks as he shuts off the engine.

Ollie just shakes his head and lets out a frustrated sigh. "Shut the fuck up."

Ethan glances at Ollie, who has his head lowered. He parts his lips, but then he must decide against saying something and instead shoves open the door. "I'm freakin' starving," he announces as he hops out then slams the door. Then he tugs the hood of his jacket over his head and stomps through the snow toward the entrance.

"He's so moody," I say to no one in particular.

"He's just going through some stuff," Micha explains as he opens the passenger door.

I rotate around to look at him. "Like what?"

Micha merely shrugs. "Just some stuff."

"Great. You guys are keeping guy secrets again, aren't you?" I groan in frustration.

He offers me an apologetic smile. "Let's go get some breakfast."

"I'm good," I lie.

I'm actually starving, but I have zero dollars to my name. Plus, I kind of want to talk to Ollie in private and see why he's suddenly playing the quiet game with himself.

"You sure?" Micha asks, searching my eyes, probably to see if I'm lying.

I try to keep a neutral expression. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Okay." He sounds like he's not totally believing it but decides to let it go. "You wanna come in with me?" he asks as he moves me off his lap and hops out of the truck and into the snow.

I shake my head, and he frowns, so I quickly add, "I actually need to talk to Ollie for a moment."

"Okay." He pauses for a beat before slowly closing the door. Then he turns and starts walking toward the café, casting one last glance back at the truck before walking inside.

"Dude, they're acting so weird today," I comment as I turn toward Ollie. With the truck engine off, it's cold enough in the cab that I can see my breath fogging out in front of my face. "Micha's being all hesitant, and Ethan smiled at something I said."

That gets the corners of Ollie's lips to turn upward. Then he lifts his gaze to mine. "Ethan smiling was definitely weird," he agrees, resting his arm on the back of the seat just behind me. "Maybe he was abducted and it's not really Ethan, but a pod person."

Smiling, I point a finger at him. "I think you might be on to something."

We trade a smile, but then his begins to fade, his gaze dropping to his scraped-up hands.

"Olls," I say, using my nickname for him. "What really happened to your hands?"

He lets out a quiet exhale, wisps of his inky black hair hanging in his eyes as he skims his fingertips along the scrapes. "I just messed up; that's all."

"Hey, you made a promise to me that you'd always tell me whenever your mom did something shitty to you. You also promised to come to my house if you needed a break... Why didn't you?"

He sighs. "I didn't come to your house because it was late and I didn't want to wake you up. And I didn't say anything at first because... it wasn't my mom who did it to me."

I'm a little taken aback at that. "Who did it then?"

"Well, I partly did it to myself," he admits, confusing the crap out of me. "I got into a fight with my brother."

"Really? Which one?"

"Ellis."

Ellis is nineteen, and Ollie and him have always gotten along pretty well, so this surprises me.

"What happened?" I wonder.

"He got pissed off because I borrowed one of his shirts... I should probably add that he was strung out."

"Oh." I give a short pause. "I didn't know he'd gotten into drugs."

"Yeah, I didn't either until a handful of weeks ago when I caught him doing a coke line in the living room with a group of his new friends. After that, I started noticing things... I think he might be doing it a lot."

"That sucks. I'm surprised he would after seeing how your parents are."

"I know. Me, too." He grows quiet. "Do you think we'll ever turn out like them?"

"Our parents?" I ask, and he nods. "No way. We're way smarter than them. Plus, we have that pact to get the hell out of this town." Deep down, though, I get that feeling again, that one full of doubt that I'll ever be able to go through with that pact.

"True." He offers me a small smile. "Thanks for talking to me, Ellie. I feel twenty times better."

I smile. "That's what best friends are for."

He smiles back, and it makes me feel good, like I've done something right for the day.

"I have to ask you one more thing about this, though, and then I'll let it drop," I say, rotating toward him and bringing my leg onto the seat. "How did just your knuckles get scraped up? Was it because you kicked his ass?"

He grimaces. "I wish. Unfortunately, it was because I'm lame."

"Why? What'd you do?"

"Well, he was getting in my face and shoving me, and I didn't have my shoes tied," he confesses. "And I tripped over the laces and fell onto the concrete floor of the garage. I had my hands clenched—don't ask me why, because I honestly don't know. But anyway, the concrete scraped my knuckles up."

"It's still your brother's fault for pushing you," I tell him. Then, to lighten the mood, I playfully scold him. "But how many times have I told you to tie your shoes?" I look down at his red Converse and, sure enough, the laces are untied. "And what's up with the red shoes anyway? It's a bright color for you."

He props his foot up on his knee. "I know, but I found them in that thrift store downtown, and they looked cool, so I thought I'd give it a try." He looks at me. "You don't like them?"

I shake my head. "No, I like them. I'm just so used to you wearing mostly dark colors. They are missing something, though."

As if he can read my mind, a smile lifts at his lips. Then he reaches into his pocket, digging out his phone and a marker. He hands the marker to me.

"Doodle away," he says.

I love that he totally gets what I'm saying without me actually having to say it.

Giddily, I take the marker from him, uncap it, and begin drawing his name on the side of his shoe. That's just the start of what I'm going to do. I've done this on almost every pair of shoes he's owned—made them into works of art. I love drawing and secretly dream of becoming an artist.

I kneel up on the seat to get more comfortable, and Ollie helps me out by propping his foot up onto his knee. While I'm making the lines of his name, he sends someone a text.

"Who ya texting?" I ask as I loop the marker around.

"Micha," he says. "I'm asking him to grab me a few things while he's in there."

My stomach burns thinking about how, in a moment, this cab will smell like delicious breakfast food. But I shove the thoughts aside, knowing that I have no money to buy food, and I'm not about to borrow any, even though I know the guys would give me some if I asked. I hate being in that sort of position and don't like putting them in that position, either—the one where they feel obligated to owe me.

Once Ollie's done texting, he sets the phone down on the seat beside him.

Then he starts to say something, but then trails off. "What's that crazy old woman doing now?"

Wanting to see what he's looking at, I sit up and track his gaze to none other than Mrs. Mapleton.

She's wearing a coat with the hood pulled over her head and rainboots, and she's standing beneath the carport shelter just in front of us, right below the menu marquee. But she's not looking at it—she's looking at us. Or, well, Ethan's truck. Snow is falling in front of her, limiting visibility, but I can still get a glimpse of the dirty look she has on her face.

"Why is she staring at us like that?" Ollie mutters under his breath with his gaze on her.

"I'm not sure, but it might have something to do with her thinking my mom did something to her husband."

Ollie's head whips in my direction. " _What_?"

I sigh, capping the marker. "Yeah, apparently, she hasn't talked to him since yesterday, and she stopped by our house this morning, saying that she saw my mom with him. But my mom was home with me yesterday, so clearly, she's confused."

He hesitates.

My brows knit. "What's up?"

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. "I don't know..."

"Olls," I warn, "no secrets, remember?"

He audibly sighs. "Yeah., I know. I just don't want to upset you."

"You keeping a secret from me is what'll upset me the most."

He bobs his head up and down as my words sink in. "Fine. But just know that this doesn't mean anything." He takes a deep breath. "I saw your mom with Harry yesterday."

# Cupcakes & Coffee

"What?" I ask after a handful of seconds go by where I just stare at him confusedly, trying to process what he just told me. "But I was with her all day, and I didn't see her even go outside."

"Maybe she snuck out while you were distracted making dinner," he suggests, brushing strands of hair out of his eyes. "It was around dinnertime."

"I did cook yesterday," I mutter. "But as far as I know, she was in the living room, watching television while I did. If she went outside without me hearing her, she would've had to, like, tiptoe out." The corners of my lips tug downward. "Which means she was being sneaky about it. Why, though?"

I hate some of the answers that fill my head; dark answers that make me feel sick to my stomach.

"I'm sure it's nothing," he quickly adds. "She probably was just talking to him and didn't want you to stop cooking just to keep an eye on her while she did."

"You're giving her way too much credit. I know her well enough to know she snuck out. I just wish I knew why." I swallow hard. "My bet is she's probably having an affair with Harold. Which, whatever. My dad's an asshole, so I guess I can't totally blame her. I just... The fact that Mrs. Mapleton can't find him now..." More dark thoughts flood my mind as my gaze drifts to Mrs. Mapleton. Or where she was standing.

Where the heck did she go?

"Look, I've lived next door to the Mapletons for years, and I've seen them do a lot of weird crap, especially Mrs. Mapleton. I also know Harold messes around on her a lot, so if anyone is responsible for him disappearing, it's probably her. But he could just as easily be on a bender."

I nod, knowing he's right, for the most part. A drop of doubt still weighs in my mind, though, and I loathe that it does.

Ollie sighs. "No frowning, okay?"

I try to force a smile, to no avail.

He sighs again. "Come on, Ellie—"

"I know she did it!" Mrs. Mapleton appears beside the passenger door and bangs on the window. "Your mom's a whore! And a killer! I know she hurt Harold! I just know it!" She slams her hands against the foggy, snow-covered glass.

I jolt back, bumping into Ollie, mortification sweeping through me. And it only increases when I spot a group of kids we go to school with walking out of the café just in time to see this scene go down.

"Go home, Mrs. Mapleton!" Ollie shouts. "And get some damn sleep."

"I don't need to sleep!" she shouts back, hammering her fists against the glass again, so hard I'm surprised the glass—or her hands—don't break. "What I need is for that little brat to give me my husband back. I saw her, you know, dragging that trunk around. I know what's inside it, and one day, I'm gonna prove it!" She starts hammering her hands against the window again and screaming.

Is she talking about my mom? And what trunk?

_Mom, what did you do?_

My lungs pressurize as my mind races with ideas. I can barely breathe. My lungs feel like they're getting crushed, and my surroundings are starting to spin. Everything is becoming blurry. I know this feeling... I'm having a panic attack, and I'm about to black out.

Through the ringing that's filling my ears, I can hear a commotion going on outside. Not from just Mrs. Mapleton, but male voices have flooded the air, as well.

"Let me see her." Micha's voice drifts through my gasping.

"Everything's fine," Ollie says softly. "Everything's going to be okay. She just needs to breathe." Panic floods his own voice.

"Olls, you need to calm down, too." Ethan's voice rises through the chaos. "I think this is triggering you, man. Just let Micha get her calmed down, okay?"

A few gasps later, I'm shifted forward into a set of different arms. I clutch onto the person, knowing it's Micha, even though I can't see him through the spots dotting my vision.

"Shh... I've got you, Pretty Girl," he whispers with his lips pressed against my temple.

He positions me in his lap so I'm cuddled up against his chest and my legs are draped over his. I clutch onto his shirt, focusing on getting air in...

"Air out," Micha says, his words matching my thoughts. He smooths his hand up and down my back while tucking my head underneath his chin. "Just breathe."

I do what he says. Air in, air out. Slowly, my heart rate settles and so does my breathing. Micha holds me the entire time, whispering softly in my ear while rocking me back and forth. By the time I've calmed down, all the guys have gotten into the trunk and Ethan is driving away from the café.

Micha presses his fingers to my jawline and tilts my head toward him. "You okay?" Concern fills his aqua eyes.

I nod. "Yeah, I'm just peachy." I don't sound peachy at all. I sound hoarse, like I've been crying.

_Did I cry?_

I reach up and brush my fingers along my cheeks. Yep, sure enough, it's wet with tears.

Awesome. Not only did Mrs. Mapleton embarrass the crap out of me, but I cried in front of the guys.

I lift my hand to wipe my tears away, but Micha does it for me, brushing his fingertips along my cheeks. He studies me while he does, his gaze searching mine, question marks filling his eyes.

"What set it off?" he finally asks quietly. "Was it her yelling at you?"

I shake my head. "No, that I can handle. I just didn't like how everyone around saw her do it and heard what she said about my mom..." I suck in an uneven breath. "People that go to our school heard her... heard her accuse my mom of being the reason why her husband's gone."

"No one's gonna say anything," Micha assures me. "And if someone tries to, me, Ollie, and Ethan will shut them up quickly."

"Well, I want to help shut them up, too," I say. "But thanks for having my back."

His lips kick up into a half-smile. "Always and forever, Pretty Girl."

He always says this to me whenever he's making me an unbreakable promise.

"Thanks," I tell him.

Then I turn to Ollie to check on him. He looks pale as he stares down at his lap, taking soft, shaky breaths. I feel awful for losing it in front of him like that. Like me, Ollie suffers from the occasional panic attack. His stems from darker reasons, though.

See, Ollie used to have a sister, but she died a long time ago, back when I barely knew him. They had been playing in a treehouse, and she had fallen out. Ollie and his older brother were the only ones home, and Ollie had held his little sister while his brother went to call for an ambulance.

She had died in his arms, struggling to breathe.

That's all the details I know, since Ollie rarely speaks about it. And I don't blame him for that. What I do know, though, is on occasion, when things take a turn toward the high stress, Ollie has mini-panic attacks.

Apparently, my mini-freak out has put him in distress. I feel so bad.

"Olls, I'm so sorry," I say.

He blinks a few times before exhaling and looking at me. "It's not your fault, Ellie. I... I just don't like seeing you panic like that."

"I'm fine," I swear to him. "I was just overreacting."

"No, you weren't. You have every right to be upset."

He just shrugs.

For about a minute, everyone remains pretty silent, the sounds of the windshield wipers filling the quietness that's spread amongst the three of us.

Then Ethan clears his throat. "So, is everyone good, then?"

"Yeah, I am." Ollie looks at me.

So does Micha.

"I'm good," I promise. When they continue to look at me in skepticism, I add, "Or, I will be when you guys stop treating me like I'm made of porcelain. Give me some credit, dudes. Yeah, Mrs. Mapleton upset me, but only for a moment. I'm good now." It's partially true. There's this small part of me that's not okay, that wants to figure out what's going on. What I need to do is find that trunk Mrs. Mapleton was talking about. Well, if it even exists.

They both stare at me with disbelief for a moment longer. Even Ethan does, which is so weird.

He never gives a crap about my feelings.

He's also the first one to look away and go back to normal. Usually, this would sort of bug me—him blowing off stuff that shouldn't be blown off. Today, though, I'm grateful.

"So, can someone hand me my breakfast or what?" he asks as he steers down the snowy road, I'm assuming heading toward Renee's.

"Chill out. I'm getting it now," Micha replies.

I hear a bag crinkle and turn my head to find Micha has a few bags smashed in the seat between him and the door. He's digging around in one of them then takes out a wrapped breakfast sandwich. He hands that to Ollie, who hands it to Ethan, who steers with one hand as he unwraps it and takes a huge bite.

"Olls," Micha says, tossing him a sandwich.

"God, I'm so hungry," Ollie remarks as he unwraps his bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich.

_I'm so hungry, too_ , I think. On the outside, though, I just lean back against Micha and pretend to be super fixated on my chipped fingernail polish.

"And for the prettiest girl in the world," Micha says softly in my ear while setting a bag on my lap and putting a coffee in my hand.

Internally, I sigh, then rotate sideways to look at him. "I told you I wasn't hungry."

"I know. But I know you well enough to know that you were lying." He lightly pinches my side. "So, eat up."

I quietly sigh as I balance the coffee between my legs. "Micha, I don't want you spending your money on me."

"It was only, like, a couple of bucks," he replies as he unwraps his own sandwich.

I peer into the bag and find a sandwich, hash brown, and a cupcake. "This cost way more than a couple of bucks."

"The cupcake is from Ollie," he informs me. "He messaged me while I was in the café and said to pick you one up because he owed you. And Ethan and I each paid half for the rest." He flashes me a toothy smile. "See? No big deal, so eat up or it's gonna go to waste."

_Le sigh._ I really don't like having people buy stuff for me. But I'm so hungry and it smells so good. Plus, it was really nice of them.

I take out the breakfast sandwich as I say to Micha, "Thanks." Then I turn to Ollie. "Thanks for the cupcake, but I was joking earlier when I said you had to buy one."

"I know, but I wanted to buy you one," he replies as he pops a slice of bacon into his mouth. "It has extra frosting on it, too."

I smile then focus on Ethan. "Thanks for breakfast."

He just shrugs and mutters, "It's not a big deal."

It kind of is, but I leave it at that and start to dive into my food, wondering how on earth I would get by without these guys in my life. _I'd definitely be more miserable. That much is a given._

It's a sad thought, but I try to focus on the positive as I take a bite of my sandwich, trying to finish it before we pick up Renee and she has to cram into the cab too. But about a minute later, I realize we're not heading in the direction of her house.

"I thought we were picking up Renee," I say as I chew a mouthful of food.

"I talked Ethan into just having her meet us at the cabin," Micha tells me as he wipes his greasy fingers off on a napkin.

"Thank God," Ollie mumbles as he lifts the sandwich toward his mouth. "I really didn't want her sitting on my lap."

"Me either," Micha agrees as he tosses the napkin into a bag.

"Dude, why do you guys have issues with her?" I wonder as I shift my weight.

They just shrug, although Ethan rolls his eyes.

"Man, guys are so weird," I state.

"Like girls aren't?" Ethan says as he steers the truck onto the snowy road that leads to the cabin.

"I didn't say that," I respond. "I just stated a fact."

"So did I." Ethan downshifts as the snow on the road gets deeper.

He can drive a stick shift like a pro, and I'm kinda jealous of that fact. Well, that and he can drive period.

I really need to start practicing more. I just wish I had more time. I could do it today if the snow lets up. But there's no way in hell I'm going to try with how bad it's coming down.

And it only gets worse the farther down the road we go. By the time we arrive at the cabin, Ethan had to put the truck in four-wheel drive. And even with that, we almost get stuck several times.

"We really need to find a better place to hang out at," Ollie says as he pops the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. "We've gotten stuck up here way too many times, and I'm worried today might be one of those."

"Don't worry; I have chains in the back," Ethan replies as he slows to a stop in front of the cabin.

The cabin is basically what it sounds like—a cabin in the middle of the woods, surrounded by trees. It actually is an abandoned place, for reasons no one knows. There's been rumors, though; urban legends told about it.

However, it's not a dump. It's actually a nice place that teenagers have filled with furniture, and we use lanterns and the fireplace to light up the place.

"Who's all here?" I ask as I eye the trucks and SUV parked around the area.

Ethan lifts a shoulder as he turns off the engine. "I'm not sure." He draws the hood over his head and hops out of the truck.

Ollie stuffs the rest of his sandwich into his mouth then scoots over and climbs out, too. Then he looks at me. "You coming?" he asks as snow dots his hair and fog laces from his lips.

I nod then toss him his jacket. "Yep." I move to scoot toward him, but Micha snags me by the hip.

"Give us a sec, okay?" he says to Ollie. "I need to talk to her for a minute."

"Okay." Confusion fills Ollie's eyes, but he doesn't ask any more questions, closing the door and hiking toward the cabin while slipping on his jacket.

I twist around on Micha's lap to meet his gaze. "What's up?"

He nibbles on his bottom lip. "I'm thinking about getting my lip pierced and want you to come with me. Maybe we can go this weekend."

"Sure," I tell him. This isn't a surprise to me—he's been talking about it for a while. What I don't understand, though, is why he had me stay in the truck just so he could tell me this. "Is that all you wanted to talk about?"

Strands of his blond hair fall into his eyes as he shakes his head. "No." He scratches at the back of his neck, his other hand resting on my hip. "I just wanted to double-check that you were really okay with what happened with Mrs. Mapleton."

I shrug as I toss my sandwich wrapper into a bag. "I already said I was."

"I know, but sometimes you just dismiss things because you don't want to talk about."

He knows me too well.

"True." I waver. "It's just weird... some of the stuff she said."

"What all did she say?" he asks cautiously.

I give him a quick recap on everything that went down. By the time I'm done, the windows are covered with a thin layer of snow.

"A trunk?" he says after I'm finished. "Does your mom even own a trunk?"

"Actually, she has a few. Or, well, she used to. I haven't seen them in a while, and I'm not sure what was in them since they were always locked. She used to keep them in her room. Now... I don't know, maybe she put them in the garage. That place is a mess, so they could very well be in there."

"Are you going to look when you get home?"

I nod. "I have to, or else it'll drive me crazy."

He remains silent for a slamming heartbeat of a second. "I'm sure Mrs. Mapleton's just being crazy. I mean, she was giving her gnomes coffee this morning."

"I know," I agree.

What he says makes sense, but I just can't shake the feeling that something is wrong, especially since Ollie said he saw Harry with my mom yesterday.

"Micha!" Someone shouts from outside. It's a girl's voice, but that's no surprise. "Get your ass in here!" It's followed by giggling.

"Your fans are waiting for you," I tease.

He doesn't even crack a smile, which is weird for him. "Well, they can wait. You're more important than anything else."

I roll my eyes, but smile and give him a hug. "Thanks for being such a great friend."

"We can talk more about this later, if you want," he says softly in my ear.

"Sure." But part of me wants to stop talking about it and just figure out what's going on.

Starting with looking in my mom's trunks.

Micha's arms remain around me for a bit longer, and then he shoves the door open and hops out, his boot-clad feet sinking into the snow.

I grab the bag with the cupcake in it, scoot to the edge of the seat, and move to hop out, but he places a hand on my legs, stopping me.

"I'll carry you so you don't have to get your boots wet." He glances down at my ankle-high, velvet boots then maneuvers his way between my legs. "I have no idea why you wore those today. The snow's going to ruin them."

"I didn't realize I was going to be wading through snow," I point out, hitching my legs around his waist and wrapping my arms around his neck. "I thought we were just going to school, which is usually plowed."

"Well, it's a good thing you have your very own carrying taxi," he teases as he slips his arms around my waist and steps back from the truck with me holding onto him.

"A taxi who gets me breakfast," I add, clutching onto him.

As I press up against him, I'm reminded of what happened this morning while we were wrestling around. Or, more like what I _felt_...

"I have a question," I say as he carries me across the cabin's front yard.

"What's up?" he asks, shifting my weight in his arms.

I chew on my bottom lip, unsure if I dare ask, but curiosity gets the best of me. "You don't really think I'm hot, right?"

He presses his lips together, his gaze shifting to me. "Do you want the truth or a lie?"

I almost lie but find myself saying, "The truth."

He wavers. "Okay, then yeah, I think you're hot." I'm about to freak out on him, even though it's my own fault that he said it, when he adds, "Don't freak out on me. I'm just stating a fact. And I'm not the only guy who thinks this, either."

"Who else thinks this?" I ask, unsure if I'm annoyed or not that guys are talking about my hotness.

He shrugs. "Guys say it all the time. I know Ollie does. And Ethan."

I snort a laugh. "Ollie doesn't think I'm hot, and I know for a fact Ethan doesn't, so stop saying that."

He rolls his eyes at me. "Okay, they don't then." Sarcasm oozes from his tone.

"Hey, don't mock me, dude." I pinch his chest.

He flinches then grins, his eyes darkening. "You know what? That little pinch just reminded me that you owe my sexy chest a kiss. And I think I'm going to collect when we get inside."

_Crap_. With all the drama going on this morning, I completely forgot about that.

"Not here," I say.

"Yep, here." Then, holding me up with one arm, he pulls the door open and steps inside, leaving me to silently freak out.

# Red Lipstick & Kisses

I'm trying to calm down as I hang out on a sofa in the main area of the cabin, but knowing what I'm going to have to do soon is sending panic through me. I try to distract myself the best that I can by devouring the cupcake Ollie got me. But even sugary frosting isn't helping calm me down, which might be a first.

Micha, Ethan, Ollie, and Steve, Jane's boyfriend, wandered off outside to check out Steve's new ride. Part of me wanted to go, but the other part wanted to sit down and eat this cupcake.

Which I totally am and it's so dang good.

"God, he's so hot," Renee suddenly mutters from beside me.

I glance at her to see who she's looking at and find her staring at Micha. who's wandered back into the room.

For a weird moment, I feel this ping of jealously stirring inside me.

Renee brows knit as she looks at me. "What's wrong with you?"

I hurriedly wipe the glare off my expression. "Nothing." I stuff a huge bite of cupcake into my mouth and focus on chewing.

But seriously, what is wrong with me? Since when do I get... jealous of someone saying Micha is hot?

"You're being super quiet right now," Renee remarks as I finish off the rest of the cupcake.

I shrug, wiping off my hands. "It's not like I'm ever Miss Talkative."

"She has a point." Jane, who's a year older than me and has blonde hair and a lot of piercings, says. "Although, she talks more whenever she's around Micha, but that guy is a blabbermouth."

"Why don't you talk that much?" Jane asks as she takes a sip from the coffee she's holding. "At least to us."

I just shrug, not wanting to tell her that a lot of times I don't know what to say to them because I feel like I have nothing in common with them.

"What was Micha talking about with you before he walked out of here with Ethan and Steve?" Renee suddenly asks then takes another sip from the coffee mug. "I heard him say you owed him or something."

I heave a sigh. I so did not want anyone to find out about the challenge I failed earlier. And part of me wants to lie, but the other part of me knows Micha is going to make me go through with this whole chest-kissing thing while we're here, so I might as well just get it over with.

I sink back into the worn leather sofa. "Well, to make a long story short, I lost a challenge and now"—I grimace—"I have to kiss his chest."

Renee blinks in surprise. And Jane, well, she just looks amused.

"What the hell was the challenge?" Renee asks as she sets the coffee mug down between her legs.

I sigh. "Over whether or not he has a hairy, gross chest."

Renee gapes at me. "Please say you were arguing that he doesn't have a hairy chest."

"What would be the fun in that?" I question with a smirk.

"Ella, you're seriously the craziest person I've ever met," Renee says, apparently still stuck on this whole Micha-hairy-chest thing.

"I'll second that," Jane declares as she snatches the mug from Renee. "I mean, Micha's not even my type, but I'll totally admit he's hot. And that includes his chest, because I've seen that guy with his shirt off and..." She gets this dreamy smile on her face. "All I can say is _wow_."

"Wow's an understatement." Renee stretches her legs out in front of her. "I saw him a couple of months ago walking around shirtless at the shop and, holy hell, he's gotten hot. One of these days, I'm going to hook up with him." She sneaks a glance in my direction.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" I question.

The two of them trade a look then Jane sighs. "Some of us have been wondering if maybe you and Micha... If you..." She hesitates, glancing at Renee.

Chewing on her lip, Renee fixes her attention on me. "Look, I'm going to be blunt with you, okay? A lot of people think that you might have something going on with either Micha or Ollie, maybe even both. And some people—and by some people, I mean me—don't know whether or not we'll be breaking any rules if we decide to hook up with Micha or Ollie."

_What?_ "I... No..." I shake my head. "If you want to hook up with either of them, then go ahead," I tell her, pretending to be nonchalant. On the inside, though, strange feelings are twisting inside me, ones I can't quite decipher.

But I'm not even sure who the feelings are for.

Man, relationships with guys are complicated.

"Who can hook up with who?" Micha unexpectedly appears in front of us, making me cringe.

"Um..." I glance at Renee, who shrugs and looks at Micha.

"A friend of mine wants to hook up with you," she informs him as she reclines back in the sofa.

Micha's gaze flicks to me then back to her. "And why does she need Ella's permission for that?"

Renee shrugs. "Because sometimes it seems like you two are dating."

A protest works up my throat, but Micha beats me to the punch.

"You know, that remark is kind of insulting," he says as he makes his way across the room and plops down on the sofa beside me, dusting snow out of his hair, "since you saw me making out with Beth last weekend, which would mean I cheated on Ella."

"Oh my God, you did?" I give a mocking gasp, hoping to distract everyone from whether or not I'm dating Micha. Or Ollie. Or both, apparently?

Seriously, that's what people think of me?

A smile quirks at Micha's lips. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to. Please forgive me."

I cross my arms. "Nope. We're so breaking up. And I want my shirt back."

He tilts his head to the side. "What shirt?"

"That one I got at the concert last month that you stole from me."

"I didn't steal it from you. I bought it for myself."

I fake a pout. "I thought you bought it for me. And now I find out you cheated on me and we're breaking up... What a crappy morning."

He drums his fingers against his lips. "I'll tell you what; I'll give you the shirt as an apology for cheating on you and making you break up with me. We have to stay friends, though."

"Deal," I agree then grow serious. "Are you really going to give me the shirt?"

He bobs his head up and down. "Yeah, it looks better on you anyway."

"Oh my God," Renee groans. "Not dating, my ass. You guys are disgusting. For reals. I'm not even going to bother competing with that..." She turns her head and starts mumbling stuff to Renee.

Micha sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and doesn't utter a word.

Micha, the blabbermouth, is being very quiet at the moment.

_WTF?_

"Hey, baby," Steve says to Jane as he walks in from outside, interrupting Micha and I, something I'm grateful for since things were getting a bit awkward.

Steve is bundled up in a large coat and thick boots, both of which he discards before he plops down on the sofa. Then he leans in to kiss Jane, and she giggles, kissing him back.

I pull a disgusted face and look away, only to find Micha observing me curiously.

My brows pull together. "What's that look for?"

He gives a shrug then nudges me over so he can sit down between me and the armrest. "Nothing. I was just thinking."

I rotate toward him and rest my elbow on the back of the sofa. "About what?"

He stretches his arm along the back of the sofa, the crook of his arm resting beside my elbow. "Just life."

"Always such a deep thinker," I tease with a smile.

He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"You want to talk about something?" I ask. "Because it kind of looks like you do."

He glances around at Steve and Jane, who are making out on the sofa, and then at Renee, who's gotten up and is messing around with a dartboard on the wall. Pressing his lips together, he then looks back at me. "I was just thinking about life and being with someone. I mean, in like an actual relationship."

What...? This is so not what I expected him to say.

"You want to date someone?" I ask, and he raises a shoulder. That strange, twisting feeling in my stomach makes a grand appearance again. "Who?"

"I'm not sure yet." He slants back, raking his fingers through his hair. "Honestly, I'm not even sure I could ever date anyone."

"Why not?"

"I don't know... I'd probably suck at being in one since I know crap about them."

My heart aches for him a little bit. "You're talking about your mom and dad?"

He reclines back against the sofa, letting out a loud exhale. "Maybe... Honestly, I'm not sure what I'm even talking about. I'm just in a weird mood."

I can sense that, but what I can't sense is the exact cause of his weird mood, since he seemed fine earlier.

"What about your mom and Grady? Their relationship was pretty good." Which is true. And Micha and I still occasionally visit Grady.

"Yeah, I know." He meets my gaze. "You know what would cheer me up?"

"Oh God, here we go," I groan, playing along, but part of me is still worried about what caused his sullen mood. Does he really want to be in a relationship? Or was it about something else?

If he does want to date someone, what will that do to our relationship? It's always been Ollie, him, Ethan, and me. But what happens when they start dating girls? Will we start to drift apart?

"You should be worried." A grin takes over his face as he leans toward me, the scent of cologne, cigarette smoke, and something that only belongs to Micha touching my nostrils. "I think it's time for you to pay up."

Great. I was hoping he'd forgotten about that. "Later."

"Nope, it's time." He stands up and reaches for the hem of his shirt.

My heart thunders in my chest, blood roaring in my eardrums. _Is he seriously going to make me do this?_

"I'm not sure what's going on, but keep going," Renee encourages as she puts down a dart and fixes her undivided attention on Micha.

Grinning, he gradually lifts his shirt up, his intense gaze searing into mine. "What's going on is Ella May owes me a kiss on the chest."

"Oh yeah, she told us about that." Renee rounds the pool table and walks toward us. "I didn't realize she was going to do it now. Not that I have a problem with that." She seems pretty pleased as she ogles Micha.

Micha's gaze remains fixed on me as he tugs his shirt over his head and drops it onto the floor.

While my eyes want to stray across his chest, I refuse to give him the satisfaction. Plus, there's no way I'm going to openly check him out with everyone watching me. Instead, I let out a yawn and recline back against the sofa.

He chuckles, his eyes crinkling around the corners. "You can pretend to be bored all you want, but you're still going to have to pay up." His smug smirk is taunting me just enough that a spark of fire ignites inside me and wipes away any amount of nervousness I was feeling.

Squaring my shoulders, I stand up and step toward him. "You don't scare me, dude."

"I guess this isn't a big deal then, is it?" His eyes glint with a dare.

"Nope, not at all." I dig up all the courage I have, pucker up, and then lean forward.

"Wait!" Jane calls out, and I freeze.

She jumps up from the sofa and holds up her finger. "Don't move. I have an idea." Then she hurries out of the room.

Ethan enters the room then which, let me tell you, makes this whole thing that much more awesome—insert sarcasm on my part. Thank God, Ollie isn't around, so at least there's that...

Ethan takes one look at me standing in front of a shirtless Micha, and arches his brow. "What'd I miss?"

"Ella lost a challenge this morning," Renee answers for me, tearing her eyes off Micha's chest and focusing on Ethan. "She has to kiss Micha's chest. And may I add, a very _un-hairy_ , toned chest." She flashes Micha a flirty smile, but his attention is still glued to me.

"You look nervous," he says to me.

I roll my eyes. "I'm never nervous."

"Liar."

"Show off."

"Pretty Girl."

I point a finger at him. "Don't call me that."

His smile grows. "Pretty—"

"Got it," Jane announces as she dashes back into the room, holding something in her hand.

"Got what?" I wonder, turning toward her.

She sticks what she's holding out toward me—a tube of lipstick. "It's so we can all have proof that your lips really do touch his chest. Plus, it'll be super sexy."

Micha rubs his hands together while grinning. "Yeah, I like that idea."

I narrow my eyes at him. "I never agreed to lipstick."

"Is someone scared?" Steve taunts.

I point a finger at him. "You're not part of this, so shut it."

He holds up his hands in front of him. "Sorry. My bad. I was just trying to help." But a smirk resides on his lips.

I throw a dirty look at him one final time before looking back at Jane, who's still holding the tube of lipstick in my direction. I could put up a bigger fight—after all, lipstick wasn't part of the deal—but I don't want to seem like a chicken either, so I snatch up the lipstick and pull off the cap.

Great. It's bright red and will probably clash with my hair. But I guess that doesn't matter right now.

Sucking in a breath, I put on the lipstick. Micha watches me, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. Everyone else is staring at me, too, including Ethan. He's standing across the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking completely and utterly unamused.

That would make two of us.

Once I'm done putting on the lipstick, I hand it back to Jane.

"That's a good look for you," Micha remarks, biting his lip harder.

"Don't make fun of me," I reply, fidgeting with a leather band on my wrist.

"Oh, I'm not," he assures me, his gaze zeroing in on my lips. "You look really hot."

"Funny," I reply dryly

"I wasn't trying to be," he replies.

I groan. "Let's just get this over with." Then, before I can chicken out, I lean forward and press my lips against his chest.

_His skin is so soft and warm_ , is the thought that crosses my mind. But it's instantly squashed when Micha touches my waist, brushing his fingers along the skin that's peeking out between the hem of my shirt and the top of my jeans.

As heat flares through my body, I hurriedly slant back, pulling myself together just enough to put on a neutral expression.

Micha's expression is unreadable, but his gaze is intense.

"Challenge complete," I manage to get out evenly.

His gaze remains fused on me for a slamming heartbeat of a second before he glances down at the bright red lipstick on his chest. Then a ghost of a smile appears on his lips, no smugness evident, just...

Happiness?

_Is he happy I kissed his chest?_

Then, as he meets my gaze, his smugness surfaces, and my panic dissipates as I feel everything between us go back to normal.

"Still think my chest is hairy and gross?" he asks with a smirk.

"Yep. In fact, I think I have one of your hairs stuck to my lips." I pretend to pluck a hair from my lip.

He just smiles like I'm the most amusing person ever. Then he reaches down to pick up his shirt. Once he pulls it on, Renee lets out a disappointed sigh. Then she heads back to the dartboard.

"Anyone want to play?" she asks, her gaze drifting to where Ethan is.

Or, well, was. Evidently, he left while I was completing my challenge, probably because he was disgusted by it.

"I'll play," Micha volunteers, heading over to her.

Needing some fresh air, I decide to go look for Ollie, hoping he's just hanging out outside instead of still peeing in the woods somewhere.

As I walk away, I feel Micha's eyes lingering on me. When I reach the door, I glance at him.

"Where are you going?" he calls out.

"To get some fresh air," I say, twisting the doorknob.

Concern creases between his brows. I'm not sure what he's concerned about, but it's brief and he's soon focusing on the game.

Zipping up my leather jacket, I step outside and onto the porch, shutting the door behind me. I feel like I'm about to freak out and I don't even know why. It was just a kiss. And not even one on the lips.

Thankfully, I receive a text that offers a distraction. Of course, when I read the message, I'm unsure if I'm really thankful.

**Dean: Hey, I just got a call from Mom. She's freakin' out because some cops stopped by and were asking her questions about some missing guy. I was going to go myself, but you're much better with these kinds of things.**

_Great_. I guess Mrs. Mapleton didn't find her husband and reported it.

"Ella," Micha says as he walks out of the house. He takes one look at me and frowns. "What's wrong?"

I sigh as I put my phone away. "Dean just texted me and said Mom called him and was freaking out because the police were there, asking her questions about Harry."

"That crazy old woman," Micha says, shaking his head in annoyance. Then he sighs. "I'll go borrow Ethan's keys and drive you home."

"Actually, I heard Steve and Jane talking about heading into town, so I'll just get a ride from them." Not that I want to ride with Steve and Jane, but I also don't want to make the guys leave either. Plus, I think I might need a breather so I can process what happened today—that I kissed Micha's chest.

Micha frowns and says, "I don't mind driving you."

"I know you don't, but you don't need to. Stay here and have fun."

He looks like that's the last thing he wants to do. "Are you sure? Because I don't mind going with you."

"I'm sure." I offer him a smile. "I'll see you later, okay?" Then I go to find Steve and Jane so I can hitch a ride home and try to figure out what in the heck is going on.

# The Real Reason

## Micha

I hate watching her go and it takes all of my willpower not to get up and chase after her. If I had my way, I'd be with her all the time, but she won't let that to happen. Ella and her walls. I wish I could find a way to crumble them.

"You look tired as hell," Ethan remarks as he sits down on the sofa beside me.

"Gee, thanks," I reply dryly, getting a cigarette out of my pack.

He takes a drag off his cigarette. "Sorry, but I was just stating a fact."

"I know." I sink back into the sofa and light up. "And I probably look tired as hell because I am tired as hell."

He smirks. "Did Ella keep you up all night."

He's always cracking jokes like that, about Ella and I hooking up, even though we never have. A lot of people think we have, though, and I can't really blame them. We spend a lot of time together. Plus, we sleep over at each other's houses sometimes. I wish I could stop thinking about her like that because it's complicating our relationship. But Ella is... Well, she's hot as hell and feisty and funny when she isn't buried in her life problems.

"I didn't even stay over at Ella's house last night." I move the end of the cigarette toward my lips as I stare off into empty space. "I had to wake up early this morning to shovel the driveway for my mom. The snow won't let up." But my excuse for not getting enough sleep is a lie.

I actually spent half the night staring out at Ella's bedroom window while I penned some new lyrics. Lyrics that are about her. But that's something I'm going to keep to myself because for one, Ethan would tease the hell out of me. And two, Ella would freak out if she found out I was writing lyrics about her. She gets weird about anything that has to do with emotions and her, something I know because I know her better than anyone else. And she knows me better than anyone else does, even Ethan and Ollie. Although, there's a few things she doesn't know about me.

My hand drifts to my chest as I replay what it felt like to have her lips touch my skin. I mean, it's not like I've never had a girl kiss me before—even Ella has kissed me. But those red lips... She's so damn gorgeous. It's something I've been noticing more lately.

"You look stressed out," Ethan says to me he puts his cigarette out in an ashtray. "You want to go up to The Hitch and spin donuts. I just got some new chains so we should be able to get out if we get stuck." I nod, relieved to have a distraction from thoughts of Ella. At least that's what I tell myself. Deep down, though, I know I'll continue to worry about her. I always do.

# The Journals

About a half an hour later, I arrive home to find my mom digging through some old boxes of photos. When I ask her what happened with the police, she won't tell me much of anything. Only that they stopped by, looking for our neighbor. I'm not surprised, though. My mom can get this way sometimes.

So, I spend most of the day taking care of her until she falls asleep. Then I start what I'm going to call Project Find Out What in The Heck Mrs. Mapleton Thinks My Mom is Keeping in a Trunk.

I start with searching around in her room and in the closets of the house before heading out into the garage. The area is crammed with boxes and junk, and it takes me a moment, but eventually, I find it—one of my mom's wooden trunks, tucked away in the corner with a tarp draped over it.

I'll admit, the trunk puts me on edge. It just seems weirdly out of place, which makes me really hesitant to open it. Eventually, though, I work up the courage and open it. Or, well, try to open it. It's locked, which makes me even more suspicious of what could be in there. Not that it poses a problem of getting into it—the guys taught me how to pick locks a long time ago. So, I pluck a hairpin out of one of my buns, shove it in the lock and, _ta-da_ , it opens.

What's inside, though, has me deeply puzzled.

The inside of the trunk is simply filled with old journals and letters. That's it.

Maybe this isn't the trunk Mrs. Mapleton was referring to.

Then I flip one of the journals open, and my heart sinks at the sight of Harry's name on it.

"What is this?" I wonder aloud as I start to fan through the pages.

I see the words _affair_ and _leave your wife_ written on one of the pages. Then I see something that really makes my stomach twist. _What about the baby?_

"Ella!" my mom shouts. "Ella, where are you?"

"Crap." I quickly toss most of the journals back in, except for the one I'm holding. That one, I tuck inside my hoodie. Then I close the trunk and hurry outside of the garage.

My mom is standing just a ways down the driveway, heading toward the garage, but she stops in her tracks when she sees me.

"Why were you in the garage?" she asks, eyeing me over.

It's not like I'm afraid of my mom, but a voice in the back of my head is screaming at me to lie. Plus, the journal tucked away inside my hoodie feels like it suddenly weighs a hundred pounds.

"I was looking for some of my old drawings," I lie, starting toward her with my arms crossed to keep the journal from being noticeable.

She assesses me closely, the pinkish glow of the sunset casting across her suspicious face. "Did you find them?"

I shake my head. "No. I'm wondering if maybe I threw them away."

She stares at me, her green eyes so similar to mine. "When's dinner going to be ready?"

The muscle in my jaw ticks. After everything, that's all she has to say to me?

Not that I'm surprised.

"In a bit," I inform her then swing around her and go into the house.

She follows me in and heads into the living room to watch television and continue rummaging around through those boxes. I want to go back outside and grab more of the journals, but I decide to wait until morning when my mom will for sure be fast asleep—she can be a night owl most of the time.

After hurrying and tucking the journal underneath my mattress, I spend the next half an hour making boxed mac and cheese and tuna fish sandwiches. Yep, it sounds like a gross dinner, and it is, but it's all we have, so...

By the time I'm done, I'm exhausted, so I go up to my room and put on my pajamas. I left my phone on the nightstand, so I pick it up and check my messages, and then I plan on reading through the pages of the journal.

I have two missed message from Micha.

**Micha: Just wanted to see if you're okay?**

**Micha: I thought maybe I could spend the night tonight, if you need me to?**

Him sleeping over is a normal thing for us, so I send him a reply without even thinking.

**Me: Yeah, if you want, you can spend the night.**

**Micha: I'll be right over then.**

Oh. I didn't realize he was home. I thought he was still with Ethan.

I sit there for a moment thinking about the kinda kiss and how I felt confused afterwards. Is that how it's going to be when he gets here? All awkard? I hope not.

" _Gah_." I plop down on my bed. "Why am I getting so weird about this? It was just a challenge.:

I put my phone down and make my way over to my door to lock it. Then I collect the journal and set it on the bed, figuring I'll read it when Micha gets here.

I walk over to my window to see if he's heading over yet, and as I peer outside, my gaze travels across the street to Mrs. Mapleton's house. My heart skips a beat. She's standing on her front porch, wearing a robe, her arms crossed, and her gaze is locked on my house.

Okay, now I'm just creeped out.

I move back and sit down on my bed, counting the minutes until Micha shows up.

The moment I hear the window squeak open, relief washes over me as Micha ducks through the window. His hair is wet from the snow, and he's wearing a pair of pajama bottoms, along with a hoodie.

I breathe out in relief, "I'm so glad you're here."

He starts to smile, but then frowns. "Why does it look like you're freaking out?"

"Because I am." I make my way across the room to him and turn him around so he's looking out the window. "Look at Mrs. Mapleton's house," I whisper. Not sure why I whisper, but I do.

Micha gazes out the window, leaning close to me, and making me briefly think about that kiss. But then I mentally roll my eyes at myself. I'm seriously turning into a silly girl.

"Okay, that's just creepy," Micha mumbles as he spots Mrs. Mapleton openly staring at my house.

We stare at her for a moment, and I'm pretty certain she can see us but doesn't care.

After about a minute, Micha grows tired of it, locks the window, and shuts the curtain. Then he turns to me. "No more worrying about Crazy Gnome Lady for the night, okay?"

I nod then snag hold of his hand. "Come look at this journal I found in one of my mom's trunks," I say, then pull him toward the bed.

Then I sit down on my bed with my legs crisscrossed and Micha stretches out beside me.

"Is there anything good written in it?" he wonders, resting back on his hands with his arm stretched out behind me.

"Well, so far, I've only glanced at it," I inform him, opening the journal. Then I begin to skim read where I left off in the garage. "But yeah, basically, my mom is admitting to having an affair with Harry and may have been pregnant at some point."

Micha's brows knit. "When?"

I shrug as I turn the page. "I don't know. There's no dates on any of the pages."

He sits up and leans over my shoulder. "If she was pregnant, where's the baby?"

Why hadn't that dawned on me until now?

"She may have been lying," I mutter. "She does that a lot."

"In her own journal?" Micha question.

He has a point.

"Maybe she hallucinated the whole thing," I offer. "That sometimes happens, too..." I trail off as I read the last few things written on the page I'm reading.

_Harry has told me he doesn't want the baby. I'm beyond angry with him. And sometimes, that anger makes me want to do awful things. In the past, I've done some of them_... _Some of those dark things that fill my mind_...

Swallowing hard, I turn the page to continue reading, to find out if she did them. But the rest of the pages are blank. No, not blank. Most of them have been torn out.

I jump from the bed, panic rushing through me.

"What's wrong?" Micha asks.

I start pacing the room. "Read the previous page."

He looks at me with worry but does what I say and reads the page.

"It's bad, right?" I chew on my thumbnail as I pace the room.

He doesn't answer right away, but then he finally gets up from off the bed and steps in front of me, forcing me to stop pacing.

Placing his hands on my hips, he levels his gaze with mine. "It's just a few journal pages. It doesn't mean anything. People say all sorts of crazy, private stuff when they write in journals."

"But they don't lie about being pregnant."

He wavers his head from side to side. "She could've just thought she was then ended up not being. Or maybe she just told Harry that to try to get him to stay with her."

"Yeah, maybe that's what was going on." Doubt still weighs on my shoulders, though. "Maybe there's more information in the other journals in that trunk." My gaze floats to the frosted window. "I should go get them. I just need to make sure my mom doesn't catch me... I guess I could always climb out the window."

"I'll do it." Micha's gaze sweeps across my plaid pajama shorts and tank top. "You'll freeze if you go out like that."

"Well, I was going to change," I tell him. "But if you're fine with doing it, then I'm all for that."

Smiling, he brushes his knuckles across my cheekbone. "You know I'm always down for a little bit of stealing."

My stomach does the same weird fluttering thing it did earlier when I kissed his chest, but I do my best to ignore it.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I watch as Micha strolls over to the window, opens it, and then slides his legs outside onto the tree branch.

"Wait," I call out, scooping up a hairpin from off the top of my dresser then rushing over and handing it to him. "The trunk's locked. You'll have to pick it."

He takes the hairpin from me, winks, and then completely ducks outside and onto the tree branch. I watch him climb down then tiptoe over to the garage, leaving the window open until a light dust of snow blows into the room.

I start pacing again, feeling like I'm about to burst out of my skin. It feels like it's taking him forever, but honestly, I think I might just be freaking out.

Finally, though, Micha he's climbing back through the window, his skin flushed from the cold.

"Holy balls, it's cold out there," he mutters as he lets out a shiver.

I slide the window shut then twist to face him, looking for the journals, but his hands are empty. "Did you get the journals?"

He offers me an apologetic look. "Yeah, so... the trunk was empty."

My eyes widen. "What?"

He shucks off his jacket and drapes it on the back of a chair. "Unless there was more than one trunk in the garage, the one in there is empty."

"There was only one." I shake my head. "She must've snuck in there while I was up here or while I was making dinner and took all the journals that were in there... I knew when she saw me coming out of the garage that she seemed twitchy." The question is: what is she hiding in there?

Part of me wants to find out, while the other part of me is terrified of the secrets my mom could be hiding.

"What am I doing to do?" I say with a heavy exhale.

Micha walks over to me. "Don't stress about this yet, okay? Right now, the police are only questioning people. There's no proof that anything bad happened."

I worry my lip between my teeth. "So you want to just forget about it?"

He shakes his head, a light layer of snow falling off of it. "No, we'll look into it more. You, me, Olli, and even Ethan—you're not in this alone, okay? You need to remember that?"

I nod. "Thanks, Micha."

He smile and I smile back, but worry still stirs inside my. I have this horrible feeling that something bad is coming my way. And now just with my mom, but tomorrow at school. Because if word has gotten around town about what's happening, I'm going to be bullied big time. Not that I can't hold my own for the most part. And I have the guys. But they can't be with me twenty-four-seven, so sometimes I'm going to have to deal with this on my own. The only thing that's gonna save me from high school hell is if I can prove that my mom had nothing to do with this. But so far things are looking pretty bleak.

# Micha

I'm having a hard time sleeping, but that's pretty much the story of my life, mostly because I'm worried about Ella.

_Scratch. Scratch. Scratch._

The noise drags me out of my thoughts.

What in the hell?

It sounds like someone is scratching something outside. Maybe a cat, but it's really loud—

"What is that?" Ella suddenly whispers, startling me.

We're lying in her bed with her beside me. The bed is small so we're crammed against each other. But that's okay with me.

"I'm not sure," I whisper back. "How did you know I was awake, though?"

"You breathe differently when you sleep."

"So you've watched me sleep before?" I tease her.

"No." But it kind of sounds like she's lying.

Or maybe I just want her to be... I don't know...

"Maybe it's cat," I suggest as the scratching continues from outside.

I have my hand on her hip and she's facing me so her breath is dusting my cheek. It'd be a comfortable moment if it didn't sound like a damn mountain lion was clawing at the house.

"Maybe one of us should go see what it is?" she whispers worriedly. "You know what? It's my house. I'll do it." She starts to get up, but I stop her.

"I can do it." I sit up and rub my eyes until they adjust to the darkness blanketing the room.

A trail of moonlight trickles through the window, giving me a little bit of light as I get up and make my over to the window. I hear shuffling from behind me and when I turn around, Ella is getting out of bed.

I sigh. She always puts up a fight when it comes to letting anyone help her.

I wait for her to reach me and then take her hand, giving it a squeeze. Then we tiptoe over to the window and peer out into the night. I see... Well, nothing really.

Ella leans over my shoulder, her sugary scent surrounding me, and I struggle not to turn my head and breathe her in.

"Do you see anything?" she whispers softly.

I shake my head and lean toward her. "No..." I trail off as three figures hurry out of the garage and basically scurry to the end of the driveway where a car is parked.

Then they hop in and the car skids down the road and might I add, without the headlights on.

"Um..." I glance at Ella. "What the heck just happened?"

"I have no idea." She pauses and then tugs on my hand as she starts toward her bedroom door.

"Where are we going?" I whisper.

"To see if anyone is in my house is home?" she whispers back as she unlocks her bedroom door.

She locks it whenever I sleepover, which is pretty often, so that we don't get busted. At least, I think that's why she does it. But to be honest, I can't really picture either of her parents getting upset with her for having guys in her bed. I honestly can't picture her parents checking up on her at all. It's depressing to think about.

I remain quiet as Ella leads me to her parent's bedroom where she opens the door and peers in. When she leans back, she frowns.

"My mom isn't in there," she says.

"Maybe she's downstairs," I offer an explanation, trying to keep her calm.

So we both head downstairs to look for her mom, but she's nowhere in the house, which means...

"So she was one of those people that took off in the car," she states after we return to her room.

"Okay, so who was with her then?" I wonder. "And what was she doing?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Ella murmurs, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'm kind of worried."

"Hey, I'm sure everything is fine," I attempt to reassure her. "She could've easily just gone off to a party or something."

"Yeah, maybe." She sounds doubtful, though.

And I share that doubt, seeing as how the people basically ran out from the garage, you know where those trunks with the journals were. It's a strange coincidence, and it feels like something strange is going on. But I keep that to myself, not wanting to worry her more.

"Like I said early, we'll figure this out, okay?" I tell her.

She nods then wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly.

And I hug her back, making a silent promise to myself to figure out what's going on.

And to always take care of her.

# About the Author

Jessica Sorensen is a _New York Times_ and _USA Today_ bestselling author who lives in the snowy mountains of Wyoming. When she's not writing, she spends her time reading and hanging out with her family.

# Other books by Jessica Sorensen:

**The Mysteries of Star Grove:**

The Mysteries of Star Grove: Suspicion

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**The Unraveling Mysteries Series:**

The Mysterious Guy Next Door

The Mystery of the Symbol

The Questionable Murder (coming soon)

* * *

**The Sunnyvale Mysteries:**

The Year of Secrets & Cupcakes

The Year of Lies & Cotton Candy

The Year of Truths & Sugar Cookies

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**The Alexis Files:**

Secrets& Vanilla Bean Frosting

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Rebels & Misfits Detectives:**

Spies, Lies, & Cupcakes

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Guardian Academy Series:**

Entranced

Entangled

Enchanted

Entice

Charmed

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Monster Academy for the Magical:**

Monster Academy for the Magical

Monster Academy for the Magical: The Deadly Four

Monster Academy for the Magical: The Monster Trial

Monster Academy for the Magical: The Monster Clique

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Harlynn's Mystery Investigations:**

Sugar Cookies & Zombie Secrets

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Lexi Ashford Series:**

The Diary of Lexi Ashford

The Diary of Lexi Ashford: The Agreement

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Enchanted Detectives Series:**

Enchanted Chaos

Charmed Chaos

Entangled Chaos (coming soon)

* * *

**My Cursed Superhero Life:**

Cursed

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**The Honeyton Mysteries:**

Chasing Hadley

Falling for Hadley

Holding onto Hadley

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**The Heartbreaker Society:**

The Mysteriously Complicated Life of Ashlynn: Volume 1

The Mysteriously Complicated Life of Ashlynn: Volume 2

The Mysteriously Complicated Life of Ashlynn: Volume 3 (coming soon)

* * *

**Tangled Realms:**

Forever Violet

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Curse of the Vampire Queen:**

Tempting Raven

Enchanting Raven

Alluring Raven

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**A Pact Between the Forgotten:**

The Art of Being Friends

The Rules of Being Friends (coming soon)

* * *

**Shadow Cove Series:**

What Lies in the Darkness

What Lies in the Dark

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Mystic Willow Bay Series:**

The Secret Life of a Witch

Broken Magic

Stolen Kisses

One Wild, Crazy, Zombie Night

Magical Whispers & the Undead

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Standalones:**

The Forgotten Girl

* * *

**The Coincidence Series:**

The Coincidence of Callie and Kayden

The Redemption of Callie and Kayden

The Destiny of Violet and Luke

The Probability of Violet and Luke

The Certainty of Violet and Luke

The Resolution of Callie and Kayden

Seth & Greyson

* * *

**The Coincidence Mysteries:**

The Evermore

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**The Secret Series:**

The Prelude of Ella and Micha

The Secret of Ella and Micha

The Forever of Ella and Micha

The Temptation of Lila and Ethan

The Ever After of Ella and Micha

Lila and Ethan: Forever and Always

Ella and Micha: Infinitely and Always

* * *

**The Secret Star Grove Mysteries:**

The Secret Grove Mysteries: Road Trip Interrupted

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**The Shattered Promises Series:**

Shattered Promises

Fractured Souls

Unbroken

Broken Visions

Scattered Ashes

* * *

**Breaking Nova Series:**

Breaking Nova

Saving Quinton

Delilah: The Making of Red

Nova and Quinton: No Regrets

Tristan: Finding Hope

Wreck Me

Ruin Me

* * *

**The Fallen Star Series:**

The Fallen Star

The Underworld

The Vision

The Promise

The Lost Soul

The Evanescence

The Mist of Stars (untitled)

* * *

**The Darkness Falls Series:**

Darkness Falls

Darkness Breaks

Darkness Fades

* * *

**The Death Collectors Series (NA and YA):**

Ember X and Ember

Cinder X and Cinder

Spark X and Spark

* * *

**Unbeautiful Series:**

Unbeautiful

Untamed
