I’m about to knock on the door when I hear someone crying from inside the garage. The door is open and Micha’s dad’s Challenger isn’t inside and it’s always parked in there, so it’s weird. Micha’s dad is always working on it and getting mad at it. When I get inside the garage, I find Micha sitting where the car used to be parked, with his back turned to me. It sounds like he’s the one crying, which makes no sense. Usually I’m the one crying and Micha is the one smiling.

“Micha,” I say and the crying stops.

“I can’t play today, Ella,” he says quietly and it looks like he’s trying to wipe tears away.

I walk around in front of him, but he won’t look up at me, so I sit down on the floor. He tucks his arms onto his lap and I can only see the top of his head, because he’s looking down at the ground.

“Micha, what happened?” I ask, the Popsicles cold in my hand.

He shakes his head and then his shoulders begin to shake as he starts crying again. “My dad took the car and left.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” I tell him, not understanding why that’s making him cry. My dad leaves in his car all the time.

He shakes his head and looks up at me. Micha’s eyes are this really pretty blue color that I saw on these beads once that I used to make a bracelet in school. His eyes are really wide and shiny right now like the beads and he looks so sad. It kinda makes me feel like crying, too.

“No, he’s not coming back,” he tells me and tears roll down his cheeks and fall onto the ground. “Ever. My mom said he ran away and he’s never coming home.”

I don’t know what to say to him. My dad ran away once, too, at least that’s what my mom told me, but then he came home that night and my mom said it must have been because he couldn’t find anywhere else to go. But sometimes she tells stories that I don’t think are true.