“I don’t want an out.” She stares out the window with her arms crossed over her chest. She has the same tank top on as the one she was wearing when I woke her up, only she put a bra on so sadly I can’t see the outline of her nipples anymore. But I do notice how forcefully her chest is moving up and down. She’s anxious and I don’t think it’s just because of the kiss. In fact, whatever is making her anxious now is probably the thing that had her sleeping in her bed at three o’clock in the afternoon.

I don’t saying anything else and drive in the direction of our spot, a secluded area in the middle of the trees beside the lake. By the time we get there it’s past midnight and Ella’s drifting off to sleep. I park the car not too far away from the water, and then silence the engine but leave the headlights on.

Ella blinks and sits up, quiet for a while as she stares out at the water. Finally she reaches her arm across the console and turns the key back over, so the battery turns on. Then she picks up the iPod from the dashboard and turns on some Spill Canvas, before getting out of the car. She treads up to the shore, stopping just before she arrives at the water, then crosses her arms and looks up at the stars, her hair blowing in the light summer breeze.

I climb out of the car and cautiously walk up to the side of her. The moonlight reflects in her eyes as she bites on her bottom lip, refusing to look at me. I consider saying sorry for kissing her, but it’d be a lie and I hate fucking lying to her.

“My mom had one of her episodes today,” she says quietly, breaking the silence as she hugs herself. “She was looking for a picture of when we all went to the beach, even though we never have. I spent all day looking for it, even though I knew I’d never find it and finally I had to just lie to her and tell her I think I lost the photo, so she’d let it go.” She closes her eyes and breathes in deep. “And I was so glad when she finally fell asleep… so fucking relieved. I’m the worst daughter in the world.”

“No, you’re not.” I sweep her hair off her shoulder and she stiffens when my fingers brush against the back of her neck. “You’re a hell of a lot better than most daughters.”

She shakes her head as she swallows hard. “No, I’m not. I get so tired of it… all of it. Sometimes I just want it to all stop.” She pauses, catching her breath.