Chapter 19 Ella

Chapter 19

Ella

Brynn! prances beside me as we wind through college kids and hand-in-hand lovers, music filling the air and spilling out from the crowded venue. I'm slurping down a blue-raspberry slushie when she links our arms together.

"What do you think of Kai?" she asks me.

It's an odd question. Her perma-smile wavers when I glance at her. "He's really sweet. Shy, introverted. Surprisingly funny when he's comfortable with you. Why?"

"No reason."

There's always a reason. "Elaborate."

"Well, McKay insists he has a crush on me and he's pissed that I invited him today. He's wrong, right? Kai just needs some friends. And I love making friends."

"I agree with McKay." When Brynn! whips her head toward me, she blanches a little. Honesty has never been difficult for me. "Sorry, but Kai definitely has a crush on you. I don't blame McKay for mentioning it, but I don't blame you for making Kai feel included. Just tread carefully."

She sighs, blowing out a long breath through pink, glossy lips. "It's my Christopher Robin eyes."

It takes a minute for the statement to process, and when it does, a burst of laughter falls out of me. "Well, that's not a bad thing. I wish everyone had Christopher Robin eyes."

"No. It's a curse. And now McKay is mad, thinking I might cheat on him."

"He doesn't think that."

"He cornered me outside the car and said those exact words. He's been acting really jealous and angry lately and it's stressing me out."

My nose crinkles, and I can't help but think of Jonah.

No.

McKay isn't Jonah; he's just a high school kid.

I banish the thought and try to ease her worries. "He's intoxicated and being insecure. Christopher Robin is loyal."

"Which character are you?" she asks.

I pause. I'm about to say Piglet, but then I wonder… who is Piglet without Pooh Bear? Swallowing the quickly forming knot in my throat, I shrug. "I don't know anymore."

Brynn! sips her apple cider and smiles softly, still holding on to my arm as we weave through the masses. It's a chilly fifty-degree evening, and everyone is bundled up and huddled together with friends and loved ones while dallying outside the venue. Considering we're heading into December, a lot of people are dressed up in holiday sweaters. I'm still stuck in Halloween with my all-black attire, blueish lips, and pale skin, so I probably look like Wednesday Addams.

I bet Matty and Pete were proud.

The guys are dressed comfortably. Max snagged a hoodie from the back of his truck after we parked, and when I sneak a peek at him sauntering a few feet to my right, he pulls his hood up over his head to counter the chill in the air.

Our eyes meet.

Hopefully mine aren't rimmed red from the embarrassing waterworks show on the drive over. His are as soft and blue as they've ever been.

McKay is on the other side of Max as Kai trails behind the group with his gaze on the ground. Brynn! unlinks our arms and peers over at a line of food trucks boasting the best barbecue in Tennessee. "Ooh! They have vegan kabobs. Pit stop?" She eyes the group.

I shake my head. "I'm good."

Kai immediately tags along, prompting a glare from McKay, while Max follows with a comment about smoky-garlic pulled pork. That leaves me and McKay standing off to the side, dodging a group of drunken twentysomethings.

He uncaps his Coke and takes a big swig, eyes narrowed at Brynn!'s billowing pigtails. "He digs her," he mutters, swishing the soda concoction around in aimless circles. "I mean, she's perfect. I don't blame the guy. But she acts flirty with him."

McKay and I hardly speak, let alone about anything serious. In fact, I would have put money on him not liking me all that much. Clearing my throat, I toe a groove in the pavement and try to act cool. "She acts the same way with me. She's a friendly person."

"It's different. She kept glancing at him in the rearview mirror on the drive over."

"That doesn't mean anything. I'm sure she was just making sure he was comfortable."

"Yeah. I guess."

"Are you guys going to the same college?" I pivot.

He sniffs. "No. I have no grand plans after high school. Might see the world, might not."

That's strangely relatable. I toss him a glance and a smile. "The world is vast and intimidating. Maybe it's more about finding our place in it, rather than seeing all of it."

His mouth twitches when he looks at me. Nodding, McKay slips one hand in the pocket of his baggy jeans. His shoulder-length hair flies behind him when a breeze whips through, and for a moment, he bears a striking resemblance to Max. The tiny smile, the stance, the eyes a similar shade of blue in the low-hanging sun. But there is no trace of dimples.

I'm about to say something else when Max returns, tugging the hoodie over his head and handing it to me. "Here, take this. You look freezing."

"But then you'll be freezing," I reply, frowning at the gesture while regarding his bare arms. "I'm the idiot drinking a slushie on a cold day."

"I'll be fine. Take it, Ella."

Reluctantly, I accept the offering with a look of gratitude. "Thanks." The hoodie is warm, scented with earthy cologne and the faint aroma of cigarette smoke. The sleeves hang past my palms as I wrap myself in a one-person hug and inhale deeply.

Max steps toward me, his gaze trailing me as his throat rolls. "Looks good on you."

"It's comfy," I say with a smile.

"Ready for music?" He doesn't wait for me to reply as he closes the gap between us and reaches for one of my concealed hands.

I shake it through the sleeve hole and our fingers interlock. It feels effortless, like our hands were made for holding, and warmth spreads to every limb. I lift my eyes to his as he towers a foot above me. "Ready," I say.

I'd be ready for anything with his hand in mine.

***

We commandeer a high-top table that overlooks a giant stage. Dazzling strobes splash an array of colors across the band as attendees wave their hands on the dance floor and music pulls everyone to their feet.

Bear's Den is playing—one of Max's favorite bands. I recognize a few songs that played on the drive over. Kai sways back and forth to my right, so I nudge him with my elbow. "Having fun?"

He glances beside him at Brynn! before clearing his throat. "Sure. The music is good."

"And the company is exceptional."

"The company is mostly exceptional."

We share a glance, and I know McKay's passive-aggressive comments are what have tainted the exceptional company.

When the band announces their next song called "Red Earth it just falls out like air.

His hand is on my thigh, and his arm is wrapped around me, and I've never felt anything like this before. I've never made that sound.

He hears it and makes a similar sound in return, right next to my ear. A breathy groan that feels like a fireball to my heart, a blaze of detonation traveling south and causing a throbbing heat to unfurl between my legs.

Oh God.

What is this?

What is happening?

My limbs are paralyzed but my insides are in motion. Spinning and free-falling. I'm frozen yet melting. Nothing makes sense.

Everything makes sense.

Max's hand trails up and down my thigh while the other splays across my abdomen, drifting and searching. His fingertips inch underneath the hem of the hoodie, just barely. A weightless touch. One finger skims the waistband of my jeans, and his thumb brushes the skin of my stomach. It feels like dozens of flickering fireflies have breached me. Starlight infiltrates. Sunshine leaks into my soul and thaws every patch of frost.

And when he whispers my name against the curve of my neck, everything is golden. "Ella."

My skin comes alive with goose bumps. My heart is pounding, my core achy.

A little voice inside my head yearns for him to dip his hand lower, to the space between my legs.

No, no, no. Stop it, Ella.

Terrified by the strange new thoughts, I tilt my head to the side and look at him. I'm not sure why I do that, but part of me needs to know what he's thinking and feeling. I need to see his eyes. Maybe to him this is harmless, friendly, playful. Maybe my body is responding in all the wrong ways and I can laugh it off, and we can be normal again.

But looking at him is a mistake.

When his head tips up, his eyes are glinting with crystalline intensity, far from mirroring laughter or playfulness. His gaze is unwavering, heated, steadfast—and in that split second, I realize we're on the same page, consumed with the same tension, the same pull. Normalcy feels miles away.

He leans in closer.

His lashes flutter, lips part.

Our mouths are a centimeter from locking together.

My instincts fire and panic overthrows me.

The light snuffs out as I scramble away from him. "I–I think I need to go."

Max inhales a breath and releases me like my leaking light just burned him. "Go?"

"I need some air." I move away on teetering legs, unable to look at him. He calls out to me again, but I'm already fleeing. Running away like a coward.

I shove my way through a mass of bodies, tripping over chair legs, earning glares and annoyed remarks from the crowd.

Brynn! shouts my name.

I keep running.

"Ella!" It's Max this time, chasing after me.

Tears cloud my vision. Tears of terror and confusion. I didn't want this… I didn't want that . There's a burning ball of need in my belly and I want to claw it out of me. It's a wretched invader. A trespasser. When I make through the double doors and into the cool air, I slow my pace, bend over, and clasp my hands around my knees as I try to catch my breath.

Max jogs up beside me, his sneakers coming into view on the sidewalk. "Ella."

"Don't… I can't."

"Can't what?"

Still winded, I lift back up and swat sections of damp hair out of my eyes. His brows are bent with concern, but a small smile still bleeds into the look he sends me. It's soft, gentle. Kind. His gaze scans my face, my pink cheeks, my wild eyes and tangled hair. I don't know why he's smiling. I hate that he's smiling. "Don't, Max," I repeat. "Don't smile at me like that." There's a hiss to my words. Each syllable is infused with lethal snakebite venom.

His smile withers, poisoned to death. "Why not?"

"Because you smile at me like I matter ," I snap. "Like I mean something to you."

"You do matter. You do mean something to me." His throat works through a swallow and he shakes his head at my words as if he can shake them out of the stratosphere. "You matter a lot. You're my friend, Sunny Girl."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"Then what was that?"

Max doesn't miss a beat, tilting his head as he asks, "What did you want it to be?"

He's not afraid of the answer because the answer is clear as day, despite what my audible response might be. It's written into my glassy gaze and the flush of desire on my cheeks. It's in my shaky limbs and quivering lips. He knows exactly what I wanted it to be and that's why I'm running.

He also knows I'll never admit it.

I cross my arms over my chest and look down at the concrete before glancing back up. "I think…I think I want you to take me home."

Max blinks once, then nods. "Okay. I'll text McKay that we're leaving."

"Okay. Thank you."

I send a text to Brynn! at the same time and she responds instantly.

Me: I have a stomachache. Too many slushies. Max and I are taking off if that's okay. Tell your dads I appreciate the invitation for snacks later tonight, but I'm going to head home.

Brynn!: No problem! Is this code for sexy, naked shenanigans? *shifty eyes*

Me: Negative.

Brynn!: Only a matter of time according to EVERYONE in the crowd tonight ;) Text me later!!

Now I have an actual stomachache.

I slip my phone in my pocket and follow Max out to the parking lot a few seconds later. We don't say much during the hour-plus drive home. He doesn't hold my hand. Only the playlist he made for me serenades my tumultuous inner thoughts as I stare out the window and watch the sun sink behind the horizon for good.

When I fall asleep that night, Max is there.

Haunting my dreams. Altering my dreams.

We're riding horses, side by side, galloping down a trail beneath a sky of clouds and blue. He turns to me, the brim of his hat shadowing two crystal-like eyes. "The sun is extra bright today, Sunny. We should try to catch it."

I glance at the yellow-orange ball of fire in the sky and shake my head. "I don't know how."

"Easy," he says. "Prepare your net and begin at dawn."

That doesn't make any sense.

I don't answer him and look off to the horizon as horse hooves clap against the dusty terrain. There's where I see Jonah, standing at the edge of a ravine, his mouth moving with words I can't make out. His copper hair catches the light and a smile shines back at me.

I want to hug him. I want to race toward him, hold him in my arms, and never let him go. But he's too far away, too out of reach. I'll never make it before the sun sets and darkness paints the world black. Fighting back tears, I squint my eyes and stare into the sun before glancing back to where Jonah once stood.

He's gone.

Some things are too hard to catch, even for me.