Ella's Twisted Senior Year(15)
I throw my hair into a messy bun and tell myself to focus on the stupid paints and the sunset. In a few months, school will be over and I’ll start taking culinary and baking classes and I’ll be so busy with trying to start my own cupcake shop that I’ll easily be able to forget Ethan. Again. Maybe the tornado destroying everything was a good thing after all. It means I don’t have to go back to Canyon Falls Circle, and I’ll never have to look at Ethan’s house again.
Near the end of class, my abysmal painting skills have made something that actually kind of looks like a sunset. I add some purples and pinks and blend them into the horizon. Maybe a sprinkle of glitter will make it pop and look like something worthy to hang on the wall.
I realize a second too late that I don’t have any walls right now. Ugh.
I reach into my pocket to change the song on my phone. Ms. Cleary lets us work to music, so long as we have earbuds. There’s a new text and email from my mother. The email subject says: HERE’S THE PLAN.
I read the text first.
Mom: Sent you an email!
I roll my eyes. In a world where I get emails and texts on my phone at the exact same time, I don’t know why she feels the need to tell me when she emails me.
I open the email, which was sent from her work account. Her work emails are always annoyingly in all caps since she uses caps for filling out hospital forms. I almost don’t bother reading it until after school, but the word Poe sticks out as something Mom would never write. She’s not into classic poetry so . . .
I freeze as I skim the words on the screen, and then force myself to read over them very, very slowly. This can’t be happening.
ELLA,
GOOD NEWS! WE’LL BE STAYING WITH THE POE’S UNTIL WE GET OUR NEW LIVING SITUATION FIGURED OUT. GO OVER THERE AFTER SCHOOL AND DAD AND ME WILL BE THERE AFTER WORK.
LOVE YOU,
MOM
*
April’s eyes widen when she meets me at my car after school. I’d texted her SOS and 911 and then fifty thousand panic face emojis. They don’t really make an emoji to define when your life has completely been ruined, so I had to get creative.
“What is it?” she says, grabbing my arms and shaking me. She’s way taller than I am so it almost looks like I’m a kid being abused by their mother. “Are you dying?”
“Dying of mortification, yes.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Ugh, girl, that’s the worst kind of ailment. I need details.”
I shake my head and I can’t even bring myself to tell her in words. So I hand her my phone and let her read the email. I can’t stop looking around the parking lot, hoping none of the students walking to their cars is Ethan. I can’t bear the idea of seeing him right now. Or in the next few minutes when I get to his house. Or ever.
“Shit,” April says, handing the phone back. “Why would they do that?”
“Because his parents and my parents are friends. I don’t think they really grasp the whole fact that I haven’t been over there in four years.” A sob catches in my throat and I turn around, leaning against my car for support. “I can’t do this, April.”
She pats my back. “Yes you can. You’re Ella Lockhart, the girl who stood up to that bitch, Kennedy. Think of how much she’ll hate knowing you’re sleeping in her boyfriend’s house.”
I laugh. “Yeah, that could be fun. But seeing Ethan every day is going to be the worst.”
April waves a hand. “Nah. Just keep to yourself and keep ignoring him. Don’t let him know it bothers you. You’re strong. You can do this.”
“Thanks,” I say. “You’re right. I can do this.”
*
Mrs. Poe is the picture perfect housewife and she has a mommy blog to prove it. She is the queen of Pinterest and cooks a balanced meal almost every single night. By the looks of her front door, with its spring themed homemade wreath, I’d say she’s only improved her homemaking skills since the last time I was over here.
I swallow back my nerves and tell myself not to remember that time. I left this house crying after Corey broke the news to me. It would be so easy to come back into this house crying again. But I won’t. I hold onto the lie that April told me at school—that I’m strong—and I use it as my weapon against all of the anxiety that snakes up my legs when I press the doorbell.
At least Ethan’s truck isn’t here yet. Maybe I can slip into the guest bedroom and disappear before he gets home.
Mrs. Poe appears a second later, her hair in a cut in a bob and dyed a fiery red.
“Ella!” she says, grabbing me in a hug right here on the threshold. “You’re so beautiful! I can’t believe it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” She ushers me inside. “Dakota will be here soon. She’s excited to have you staying with us.”
Dakota was such a sweet kid when we were younger. I wonder if she’s still the same, or if becoming a teenager has changed her. Their house still smells like warm apple cider and I wonder if that smell is built into the walls or something. Besides some new furniture, it’s still the same place I remember. My chest constricts with all of the unwanted memories that flood into my mind.
“Where’s Ethan?” I ask, since it’s kind of obvious that she’d only mentioned one of her kids a second ago. Maybe I’ll luck out and the answer will be he moved to Fiji to study abroad and he won’t be back for months.