"Mom, stop it and get down," I said, not taking her very seriously at first.
But when she turned her head and looked at me, I could see in her eyes that she wasn't joking. She really believed she could fly.
I tried to stay as composed as possible. "Mom, please get down. You're scaring me."
She shook her head and her legs wobbled a little. "It's okay honey. I'll be fine. I can feel it in my body that I can fly."
I took a cautious step toward her and my foot bumped the curb of the bridge. The cement rubbed my toe raw and I could feel blood oozing out, but I didn't look down at it. I was too afraid to take my eyes off her. "Mom, you can't fly. People can't fly."
"Then maybe I'm a bird," she said seriously. "Maybe I have wings and feathers and they can carry me away and I can become one with the wind."
"You're not a bird!" I shouted and reached for her again, but she hopped onto one of the beams and laughed like it was a game. I tugged my fingers through my hair and steadied onto the railing. It was a far fall, one that would crush our bodies on impact, even in the water. I braced my hands on the beams above my head. "Mom, if you love me at all, you'll get down."
She shook her head. "No, I'm going to fly today."
A truck rolled up and stopped on the middle of the bridge as I edged toward her. Ethan jumped out and didn't so much as flinch at the scenario. "Hey, Mrs. Daniels. How's it going?"
I gaped at him and hissed, "What are you doing?"
He ignored me. "You know it's not really safe out there."
My mom angled her head to the side. "I think I'll be okay. My wings will carry me away."
I was mortified, but Ethan didn't miss a beat. He rested his arms on the railing. "As much as that could be true, what if it's not? Then what? I mean is it really worth the risk?"
I glanced back at my mom and she looked like she was weighing the options. She stared at the dark water below her feet and then at the bright sky above her head. "Maybe I should think about it for a little bit."
Ethan nodded. "I think that's probably a good idea."
She made a path across the beam and planted her feet on the railing. Ethan helped her down and we got her into the backseat of his truck. She fell asleep within minutes and I slumped my head back against the chair.
"How did you do that?" I asked quietly.
"One of my friends was tripping out of their mind one night and I had to talk him out of jumping off the roof," he explained. "It was all about making her realize that there was more than one scenario."
I nodded and we stayed quiet for the rest of the drive to my house. Ethan never brought it up to me, nor did he treat me differently and I was grateful for it.
After a doctor's visit, it was determined that my mother had started to suffer from 'Delusions of Grandeur,' which happens sometimes in bipolar patients.
I finally pull away from the drawing when it's nearly dark. I gather my sketchpad and pencils and head down the hill. In front of the arch iron entryway is Micha, sitting on the hood of his mom's car, wearing jeans, and a black and red plaid shirt. His head is tipped down and wisps of his blonde hair cover his forehead as he messes around with his phone.
I stop a little ways off from him. "What are you doing here?"
His eyes lift from his phone. "I'm waiting for you."
"How did you know I was here?"
"I saw you leave with your sketchpad and head this way, so I came up to check on you."
I take a tentative step forward. "How long have you been sitting here?"
He slides off the hood and puts his phone away. "For a while, but I didn't want to disturb you. You looked too peaceful."
I press my lips together and stare at him, craving to sketch him like I used to. He would sit on my bed and it was like he owned my hand. "Look, about the other night, I think - "
He strides across the grass toward me, moving so impulsively that there's no time to react as his finger covers my lips. "Just let it be for a while, okay?"
Uncertain of his exact meaning, I nod anyway.
He lets his finger fall from my lips, trailing a line down my chest, finally pulling away at the bottom of my stomach. "You want a ride home?" His voice comes out ragged.
I glance at the grey sky and the birds flying across it. "That would be nice. Thank you."
Micha
She's preoccupied during the drive and so am I. I was so pissed off about my father that I got into the car about to do something reckless, however, then I saw Ella wandering down the street, and I followed her. The way she walked was very entertaining, her auburn hair blowing in the wind, and the way she swayed her ass in the short denim shorts she was wearing. It calmed me down watching her sit up on the hill and draw, but I can't stop thinking about the phone conversation.
"We should go somewhere," I announce when we drive onto the main road.
Ella jolts in her seat and turns away from the window. "I should probably go home."
"Come on." I pout, hoping it'll win her over. "Just come with me somewhere and we can relax."
She's tempted. "Where exactly?"
I turn the volume of the stereo down and let my arm rest on the top of the steering wheel. "To our spot by the lake."
"But it takes forever to get there." Her eyes rise to the dark sky. "And it's getting late."
"Since when have you been afraid of the dark?"
"It's not the dark I'm afraid of."
I sigh and downshift. "Come on, just you and me. We don't even have to talk. We can just sit in silence."
"Fine," she surrenders, tossing her sketchpad into the backseat. "Just as long as you don't ask me questions."
I hold up my hand innocently. "Scouts honor. I'll keep my questions to myself."
Her eyes narrow. "I know you've never been in the scouts before."
I laugh, feeling the pressure lift from my chest. "It doesn't matter. I'll keep my questions to myself, but with everything else, all bets are off."
She pretends to have an itch on her nose, but really it's to obscure her smile and it makes me smile myself.
***
Its pitch black by the time we reach our spot on the shore that's secluded by tall trees. The moon reflects against the water and the night air is a little chilly. I get my jacket out of the trunk and offer it to Ella, knowing she's cold because of the goosebumps on her arms and the way her ni**les are poking through her shirt.
She slips the jacket on and zips it up, covering up her perky ni**les. I sigh, hop onto the hood, and open my arms for her to join me. Hesitantly, she climbs onto the hood, but stays at the front, with her feet propped up on the bumper, gazing out at the water.