Maybe everyone was right, and I was just a kid who didn’t consider consequences. I always did the right thing, but tonight? Tonight, I’d sat on the edge of my bed, playing our night at the pool in my head. The good parts, like Manning opening up about his sister and then telling me the story of Altair and Vega. And then what I should’ve done differently when I’d stupidly tried to kiss him. I hadn’t touched him, hadn’t gotten physical enough. Tiffany did that, and I needed to also.
Tonight had been my last chance with Manning.
My last chance to touch him, to make him see me as something more than a girl.
To make him forget Tiffany.
And now we were here, about to get busted, because of me.
Minutes passed like hours. I strained to hear beyond the murmur of voices. I sat bent and twisted so long, my legs tingled. I recognized the bass of Manning’s voice, the only thing that made my heart calm just a little. He wouldn’t let the man find me. He wouldn’t leave me here.
Finally, they got close enough to the window that I could hear. “Only if it won’t inconvenience you,” Manning said, opening the door.
“It’s no trouble,” the officer said. “If it doesn’t work, I’ve got a pal I can wake up to take a look. Or I’ll drive you back up to camp if you like, and you can handle it in the morning.”
Unbidden tears filled my eyes. He wouldn’t leave me. But what if he had to? What would I do—sleep here in the truck in wet clothes? Already I was doing everything in my power not to shiver.
“Let me just . . .” Manning leaned into the truck, and there was a loud, clunky pop out front. “There we go.”
He glanced at me over the divider. I nodded to let him know I was okay, even though I was holding my sobs at bay. He left for a few more minutes, came back, and turned the key in the ignition. The truck tried to start and after a second, shuddered and came to life.
I’d never been so relieved in my life. My limbs went limp.
“Thank fuck,” Manning said under his breath.
“Well, look at that,” the officer said. “Your lucky night.”
“Yes, sir.”
They were both silent a few seconds. I could only see Manning’s head turned away from me. I wanted to scream just to break the tension or look over the edge to see what was happening.
Finally, Manning pulled the door shut. “Thanks for your help,” he said through the window.
“Hey, good luck with training. You get sick of the beach, consider Big Bear. We could always use good guys.”
“Will do. Thanks again, sir.” Manning stared into the rearview mirror. I was too afraid to speak, much less move. After a minute, he waved out the window and began to drive. We were a couple minutes up the road before either of us spoke.
With his one hand on the top of the wheel, he turned onto the unpaved road. I knew because I could barely sit still, the way it bumped and wobbled over potholes and rocks. “You all right?” he asked without looking back.
“Yes.” My voice sounded foreign. “Is everything okay?”
He squinted out the windshield. I knew it wasn’t okay, not really. I’d gone too far. Manning had been good to me the last five weeks. Protected me. Taught me. Confided in me. And I’d repaid him by almost getting him arrested.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
I expected him to scold me, but instead he just said, “Me, too.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I’m just glad we’re okay.” He stopped the truck, turned out the headlights, and looked back at me. “Nobody can know about tonight. Ever.”
“I know that. I’ve told you a million times, I’m not a little girl. And we didn’t even do anything, even though it was our last chance. I can’t say goodbye to you tomorrow. I won’t.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled. “Listen to me, Lake. You have your whole life ahead of you. You’re going to one of the top schools in the country. You’ve worked hard to get where you are.”
“But—”
“And so have your parents and sister.”
I closed my mouth.
“Think of all they’ve done for you. They want nothing more than to see you succeed, and I feel the same.”
“I want that, too, Manning. I can do all that. I can do none of it. It wouldn’t matter. I’d still—”
“You’re a smart girl, and I need you to understand.”
I did to a point. Having sex with Manning could change things for both of us. If my dad found out, if he even knew I’d snuck off with Manning tonight, he’d never look at me the same. He’d see me like Tiffany. If Tiffany found out, she’d be embarrassed. And the reality was, Manning could’ve gotten into trouble tonight because of what I’d done. I was a minor. He wasn’t. He’d be punished as an adult. He didn’t have family on his side—in fact, maybe Tiffany and I were all he had right now. He would’ve lost that, and his job, too.
“I understand,” I said. “I understand why we can’t be together right now, but I can wait.” I hadn’t planned to say that or anything like it, but I’d been holding everything in too long. I’d watched Manning go off with my sister more than once. I’d fought to keep my hand from wandering over to his while he’d told me this was our story. I’d almost had him tonight, and I’d blown it. “Wait for me, too,” I said.
“Don’t ask that of me.”
“No matter what happens, where you go, where I go, it won’t change the fact—I’ll be eighteen in two years.”
“But you’ll change in two years, Lake. So will I.”
“My feelings won’t.”
“Get out of the car, Lake. I can’t park until you do, and we’ve been sitting here too long.” Manning leaned over and opened the passenger door. “Go straight to your cabin.”
It was the last thing I wanted to hear, but he was right. I stood as best I could. My legs had fallen asleep. As I got myself over the seat, I became uncomfortably aware that I was wet, sticky, and tired. He waited as I crawled out of the car, grabbed my flip-flops, and eased the door shut. “Goodnight.”
He kept his eyes forward. The window was still down, so as I walked away, I only just heard him respond, “’Night, Lake.”
With my bra stuffed in my back pocket, I carried my shoes so I wouldn’t make any noise. I passed Tiffany’s cabin on the way to mine. For a moment, I was tempted to climb into her sleeping bag instead and hold onto her. I’d never felt so grown up and so childish. Tiffany would’ve understood, would’ve told me what to do . . . if only it hadn’t been her boyfriend I’d been sneaking around with.
It’d all happened so fast, like a dream. We probably hadn’t been gone more than two hours. I touched my cheek, where I could still feel the scrape of his stubble. My heart skipped as I remembered stripping off my clothes by the lake, knowing he was watching. And his enormous hands, in my hair, in my shorts. They could take over whole parts of me—the entire back of my head, half my thigh. By the time I reached my cabin, my heart was pounding but no longer out of fear.
Quietly, I set my sandals down and dug into my duffel bag for my pajamas. I changed limb by limb without making any noise. When I opened my sleeping bag, the zipper hissed.
“Lake?” Hannah asked. “That you?”
“I just went to the bathroom,” I whispered. “Don’t wake the girls.”
She inhaled and turned over, toward the wall. Me, I stared at the top bunk for at least another hour, playing the night over and over in my head.
Manning’s restrained but curious fingers, inching closer up my shorts.
His mouth so close I could almost convince myself we’d kissed.
I already felt myself changing. Inside the sleeping bag, I touched my outer thigh. My stomach. My breasts. I was more aware of my body than I’d ever been. Flannel was smooth over the top of my hand. The polyester sleeping bag crinkled. My heart beat steadily in my chest, but if I held still, I felt my pulse all over.
Was it wrong, what we hadn’t even done? M
anning would’ve said so, even if he didn’t think it. He couldn’t tell me we’d be together one day, but he had to know the truth.
You can’t move the stars.
Manning and I were inevitable.
22
Lake
I woke up before anyone else, even Hannah, and sat up in bed. My hair had dried but was tangled from my midnight swim. And from Manning’s hands. The memory, only six hours fresh, made my stomach tighten. So this was what all the fuss was about. This was why Tiffany was always flirting with boys. Mouths. Hands. Hardness and softness. Adrenaline. We’d almost gotten caught. We’d almost gone too far. Getting wrapped up in Manning, belonging to him—I didn’t see how it could ever be far enough.
Early morning light made shadows around the cabin, on the sleeping girls. It was our last morning, and I never wanted it to end, but still, I smiled.
“Hey,” Hannah whispered, her eyes puffy as she grinned back at me. “Did you go somewhere last night?”
“No,” I said immediately. “Why?”
“I woke up and you weren’t here. At least, I thought you weren’t.” She laughed. “Maybe I was seeing things. Or not seeing things.”
“I was here. I went to the bathroom, but that’s it.”
She sighed. “It’s so peaceful right now. Do we have to wake them?”
“Only if we want to send them home with what they brought. Gary wants us to start packing before breakfast.” Some of the girls stirred. “Then again, it’s our last day. What’s he going to do? Send us home?”
I threw open my sleeping bag. Hannah sat up, piling her mass of hair on top of her head, watching me move around the cabin. I put on the soundtrack to The Bodyguard and belted out “I’m Every Woman.” Some of the girls giggled. They woke up confused but smiling, the way Hannah and I had.
Hannah got up, too. In just drawstring pants and t-shirts, we ran outside and started shaking our hips. “Are you guys seriously going to make us dance alone?” I called.
Girls crawled from their beds and hurried outside like ants from a hill. Someone turned up the music. Another cabin yelled at us to be quiet, but we went on dancing. It was a beautiful morning, and I was filled up by the memory of last night. Brimming with the possibilities of what was to come. For the first time since Manning and I had met, my feelings felt validated. Maybe Manning couldn’t say how he felt, but it’d been there in his eyes, his touch.
Once we’d worn the girls out, Hannah and I walked them to Reflection. We hit the path to the clearing at the same time as cabin nine. Manning’s hair stuck up in every direction. He had dark circles under eyes, like I probably did. We fell into step beside each other and slowed, lagging behind. “Your hair’s a mess,” he told me.
“I haven’t washed it yet.”
“Aren’t you afraid something’s growing in there?”
I giggled softly. “I wouldn’t mind if it was. A souvenir.”
Manning gave me a look I recognized. He was going to scold me. I mimed zipping my lips shut, and he seemed satisfied.
“Oh, before I forget.” I dug into my pocket. “I made you something in arts and crafts.”
“Me?” he asked.
I showed him a brown, orange, and forest green wax bracelet I’d woven earlier in the week.
He plucked it out of my palm, twisting it between his fingers. “What is it?”
“A friendship bracelet. But I gave it some thought this morning, and . . . I don’t think it should be that for us.”
Manning raised his eyes to mine slowly, looking at me from under his dark, long lashes. “Lake . . .”
“Every time you crave a cigarette, look at the bracelet.”
“And?”
“And think of me. You seem to be really good at not smoking in front me, so just pretend I’m there. You still want to quit, right?”
Manning inspected the bracelet, swallowing. “Nobody ever gives me anything,” he said. “Especially not jewelry.”
“I tried to pick manly colors. They made me think of you.” I smiled. “But you don’t have to wear it. Just keep it in your pocket or something.”
He scratched his jaw. “And when I feel like a smoke, I just pull it out and look at it?”
I nodded. “And think of me.”
He seemed to consider it. “It looks small.”
I stopped walking and took the bracelet. The clasp was adjustable, so I pulled it as wide as it would go. Manning held out his hand, and I put it on him.
As I did, he looked at the bracelets stacked all the way up my wrist. “You have lots of friends.”
“But I only made one bracelet.”
“Where’s the gold one?” he asked.
“I left it at home.” It was funny how these little wax ones could feel as valuable as the expensive one from my dad. “Didn’t want it to fall off.”
Our eyes met. We were close, unlike that first day, when I’d been hesitant to approach the gruff man who’d held my delicate chain coiled in his hand.
I could’ve lingered there all morning, grazing my fingers over his strong, tan forearm. He didn’t exactly make a move to leave, either. But another cabin came into view behind us—Tiffany and her girls. Not only were they on time, but also in a straight line.
I tightened the bracelet on him and took my hand back. Manning shook his head. “After last night, I promised myself I’d never be alone with you again. Yet here we are, not even seven hours later.”
“We’re not alone,” I pointed out. “Everyone’s here.”
“I’ve got something I want you to have, too,” he told me, looking over at Tiffany. “But I’ll give it to you later.”
I smiled. The fact that I had no idea what it could even be made me extra giddy. “Later, then.”
We all found our places in the bleachers and Gary waited at the front. Since it was the last morning, it took a little longer for the kids to settle down. “Good morning,” Gary greeted the group. “You should know the drill by now, campers. Close your eyes. Breathe the morning in. Appreciate your existence. Let’s all say thank you for such a beautiful day.”
“Thank you,” I murmured with everyone else.
“For a fun-filled and active week.”
“Thank you.”
I felt eyes on me, so I opened mine. It was him, finder of bracelets, hoarder of cigarettes, a Pink Floyd beast of a man. For the first time that I knew of, he’d looked over at me during Reflection.
“It’s important to spend time outdoors,” Gary said, “to take advantage of everything Mother Nature has afforded us.”
Manning looked three times the size of anyone around him. He was significantly bigger than Kirk, his teenaged co-counselor. Gary, too, who had a big presence but was actually pretty wiry. Nobody could compare to Manning. He was a bear in the mountains. My great bear. One day he’d be mine; I already felt that he was, I just couldn’t say it. But he knew. I knew.
We held each other’s gazes until Gary cleared his throat. He was watching us, so I closed my eyes again, and he continued. “Sometimes we allow ourselves to be consumed by the television set or get caught up in problems that don’t matter. Sometimes we let friends and family dictate our state of mind. When you wake up tomorrow, even though you’ll be home, continue this practice of being grateful for what you have, and for the gift of the day to come. Be calm. Be grateful.”
“I will be grateful,” we all said in unison.
“This morning, we’ll go around and say what our favorite part of this experience has been. Take a few moments to reflect on the week before you open your eyes.”
Where to start? There were so many moments I wouldn’t trade for the world. Last night, for one. Horseback riding with Manning. And maybe my favorite of all, our time under the stars as he showed me the constellations. But it wasn’t as if I could say any of that.
Having the girls look up to me this week, I felt as if I’d grown up a little, unlike last year, when I’d still felt like one of them. I’d enjoyed getting
to know Hannah and even spending time with my sister. It’d been thrilling to stand up in front of the crowd and perform skits at the nightly campfires.
A murmur made its way through the camp. When it got louder, I opened my eyes. Two policemen stood at the edge of the clearing, by the woods. One had his thumbs hooked in his belt, the other crossed his arms. My stomach dropped as I immediately thought of last night. I looked at Manning. He was talking to a kid but his eyes were on the officers.
Gary had his back to them, so he continued. “Counselors, discuss the week with your cabins and decide which moments you’d like to share with the camp. Then, we’ll go around and—” When he noticed he’d lost our attention, Gary looked over his shoulder, but only briefly. “We’ll go around and . . . share with the group. Lexi, take over a sec?”
I stopped breathing. A few moments earlier, I’d been inhaling the beauty of the day. Expelling the negativity, as Professor Sal had said. Now I couldn’t even feel my mouth, my lungs, my hands. Just my heart pounding against my ribcage. The cops were here. Surely, it had nothing to do with me and Manning, but I couldn’t ignore the coincidence. Last night was the first time I’d ever come close to getting in trouble with the police, and here they were again.
I looked to Manning for cues. He stood tall. Only his eyes moved as he watched Gary cross the dirt toward the policemen.
Lexi took Gary’s spot, but everyone ignored her.
“What’s going on?” one of my campers asked.
“Nothing.” It came out as a whisper. Gary and the officers turned to look at us. All of us. Not me. Maybe me? Then they closed their circle, talking with their heads bent.
“Lake?”
“Hmm?” I blinked, looking at the sea of concerned faces below me.
Hannah rubbed one of girls’ backs. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” she said, but to me, she whispered, “Why are they here?”
Manning wouldn’t look at me, but I needed to him to look at me. I hadn’t seen the officer last night, but he’d sounded younger than the two cops standing there. Bucky appeared out of nowhere, shuffling his feet as though he’d been literally dragged from his bed. Behind him came a couple other permanent staff members I recognized but couldn’t name.
Something in the Way: A Forbidden Love Saga: The Complete Collection Page 23
