It was a weird sensation to hear a Swenson say my name at all, but to have him do it in front of everyone made me giddy.
“So proud of you, man,” Gary said. “Take a seat.”
Corbin grabbed two chairs, and everyone but Manning scooted to open the circle for him. Maybe because of that, Corbin set both seats down on the other side of Manning. “Looks like you could use one of your own,” he said to me, since Tiffany and I were sharing.
“I’m fine where I am,” Tiffany replied, putting her hand on Manning’s knee.
“I was talking to Lake,” Corbin said.
With all eyes on me, including Manning’s burning stare, I went to sit between Manning and Corbin.
Corbin took his hood down, ruffling a hand through his honey-colored hair. “How’s your summer been?” he asked.
“Fine.” Nobody spoke. I had the distinct feeling they were all listening to our conversation. “Keeping busy.”
“’Course you are. Every time I see you, you’re reading or with friends, or,” he clucked his tongue, “eating cotton candy.”
Oh, God. Corbin Swenson was flirting with me, and all I wanted to do was check to see if Manning was watching. Was he maybe just a little jealous? “You make it sound like I just screw around all day.”
“Don’t you?” he asked. “It’s summer.”
“No. My dad doesn’t let me. That’s why I was reading at the beach. For school.”
“Ahh.” He sat back in his seat, crossing an ankle over his knee. “Charles, right? That’s your dad? My old man works with him.”
“I know.”
“So you’re not screwing around here?”
“No. This is for my college apps. Just don’t tell my dad I enjoy it.”
We smiled at each other.
“I sense a love connection,” Gary said, waggling his eyebrows at me. He sat forward. “But listen, you two—”
“Leave that stuff at home,” everyone recited before erupting in laughter.
“All right, all right,” Gary said. “I just expect you guys to set a good example for the kids. No alcohol, no sex.”
“Unless you’re the one having it?” Tiffany teased.
More giggling.
“You’re all a bunch of degenerates,” Gary said. He stood and stretched. “I need my beauty rest. Remember—Reflection is at seven tomorrow morning and not a minute later. Last cabin to show gets dining hall cleanup duty.”
Hannah and I exchanged looks. “It won’t be us.”
Corbin got up, too, and gently touched my shoulder. “I’ll be right back. I’ve got a few questions for Gary about tomorrow. Don’t go.”
I just nodded, watching him walk away.
“I’m bored,” Tiffany said.
“There’s a deck of cards,” Manning said. “We could play a game.”
“With alcohol?”
“Christ, Tiffany. I already told you no.”
“I said I was bored, not fifty. I don’t want to play cards.”
“You don’t have to.” Manning nodded at a group of counselors across the hall. “You know any of them?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you go introduce yourself? Part of this experience is meeting new people.”
“Because, I’d rather do other things, like . . .” Tiffany inched her chair closer to him and whispered in his ear.
Manning kept his eyes on the floor. “We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“You know why.” His eyes shifted to my feet but stayed down as he stammered, “We’re not . . . and I promised your mom.”
“She isn’t here.” She tugged on his arm. “Can we go for a walk?”
He blew out a sigh. “I’ll make you a deal. You go over and say hi, make some small talk, and then we can go for a walk.”
She rolled her eyes but stood. “Okay, fine. Will you come with me?”
“Yeah. I’ll be right there.”
I couldn’t look at Manning. My face burned just thinking of them out there alone doing things you could only whisper—now, later, the rest of the week. One minute, I swore he and I had some unearthly connection. And then there were moments like this one, where I questioned how well I really knew him.
He leaned his elbows onto his knees and spoke for my ears only. “We’re just going outside for a cigarette. That’s all.”
“You said you weren’t going to smoke at all.”
“No, I said I’d figure it out.” He cleared his throat. “You know how hard it is to go all day without one cigarette?”
“Would you quit if I asked you to?”
He blinked slowly, as if seeing me for the first time. “What?”
“If I asked you to quit, would you?”
“Why?”
“It’s not healthy.”
“I don’t do it in front of you.”
My mouth fell open. “Yes you do.”
“When? Name one time.”
I thought back to the day I’d met him and the night of the fair and the time I’d gone looking for him on the site. He’d held cigarettes, put them behind his ear, even stuck them between his lips. But he’d never lit one, or if he had, he’d put it out as soon as I’d gotten near. It hadn’t occurred to me that was on purpose. I could recall the smell of smoke being near him, though. I could almost taste the bitterness on his mouth.
“You can’t think of one because it didn’t happen,” he said.
I opened my eyes, not realizing I’d closed them. My mouth was watering. “You’re right. But I’m not asking you to quit for me. It’s because I care about you. I care enough that I want you to stop hurting yourself.”
I’d never seen him look speechless. Quiet? Yes. Stoic? Definitely. But not speechless. “I will quit. One day. Soon.” He swallowed. “I’m down to two or three a day.” It wasn’t good enough, so I didn’t respond. “But if you want me to . . . I’ll try harder.”
I wanted him to not go outside with Tiffany. Truthfully, I’d come to like the smell of cigarettes because it reminded me of him, and I’d cherish the coarse taste on his tongue, the stink, if it meant one kiss, but more than that, I’d spent my youth learning about how cigarettes turned your lungs black and killed you over time. I didn’t want that for him. “Try harder,” I said.
He gave me a funny look. I hadn’t said it rudely, but who was I to tell a grown man how to live?
“All right,” he said. “I will.”
Tiffany waved at us from the doorway.
“She’s waiting for you,” I said, turning away in my seat.
“Who?”
“Tiffany.”
“Oh.” He didn’t get up right away. “I’ll be back. Stay here.”
Whatever. I always did what I was told, whether it came from my parents, teachers, Tiffany, or, now, Manning. And where had that gotten me? Here, watching him walk away with her. “Why should I?” I asked.
“Because I don’t want you walking around in the woods by yourself at night. That’s reasonable, isn’t it?” He didn’t wait for my answer, just stood and left.
What if I did walk alone through the woods at night? Would he put me in counselor time-out? He had no real power over me. Why should I listen to anything I said when he was outside with my sister?
“Are you all right?”
I looked up at Corbin, who towered over me. “Yes. I mean, no. I’m tired.”
“Long day, huh? Can I walk you back to your cabin?”
Manning had told me to stay put. I knew it was because he cared, but in that moment, I questioned what that even meant. I stood. “That would be nice.”
Corbin held the door open for me, and we passed into the night. As soon as we left the glow of the cafeteria, darkness was all around us. “Man, I love it here,” Corbin said as we crossed through the woods. “So peaceful. I would’ve done the counselor thing, but I start baseball camp this week.”
“Are you really on the all-star team?”
“Yep. I’m applying for scholarships,
actually.”
“Really? Where?”
“My dad wants me to go somewhere in California, like Stanford, but I’ve always wanted to move east.”
I stopped to gape at him. “You’re kidding. You’re such a California guy.”
He laughed. “I know. It’s weird. But I love that the East Coast has history and that the city’s like the center of the world. I want to do big things, Lake. Be someone. That’s what New York’s about.”
“What about surfing? Skating? All that stuff?”
“You can surf in New York. There’s this place called Montauk. It’s bad-ass, or so I’ve heard. Haven’t been yet.”
We started walking again, his knuckles brushing my arm. “What about you? I know you’re a year under me, but have you started thinking about college?”
“I’m going to USC.”
He chuckled. “Just like that, huh?”
Just like that. Easy. Wasn’t it? I hadn’t really considered there might be other options. It’d only ever been ’SC. “Would you stay in California if your dad asked?”
“Only if I wanted to.”
The east coast seemed so far away. Going to school there would be like moving to a new country. If I was honest, even Stanford in Northern California intimidated me. “My dad went to USC. We’ve been working on stuff for my college apps since middle school.” We hadn’t even discussed it. Dad and I had just started planning at some point.
“That’s cool,” he said. “I mean, it’s a great school. They’ve got a baseball team, too.”
I looked at the ground, unsure of how to respond to that. For a few silent seconds, the only sound was our feet crunching on the forest floor and the chirp of crickets. I smelled the cigarette smoke first. It made its way through me instantly, leaving me warm and cozy, because it usually meant I was close to Manning. With as strongly as I associated him with it, it still surprised me that he’d never actually smoked in front of me.
“I hear voices,” Corbin said. “Who’s smoking?”
“Who do you think?”
“Your sister?”
I nodded and called, “Tiff?”
“We’re over here,” she said.
Corbin and I cut through the trees until two shadowy figures came into sight.
“What’re you doing out here, Lake?” Manning asked. “I told you to—” He stopped, and the four of us stood in silence a moment.
“Told her to what?” Tiffany asked.
“To stay where she was.”
It was so quiet, I could hear Tiffany shift in her platforms. “Why?”
I was following his rules. He couldn’t protest. And if he did, how would it look to Tiffany and Corbin? “He doesn’t think it’s safe to walk around in the dark alone,” I said. “But, as you can see, I’m not alone. So, goodnight.”
I felt his eyes on me. He wanted to say more. Now he knew how I felt, always having to keep things inside.
Finally, Manning took a drag of his cigarette and after a few seconds, he stepped back. “’Night.”
What had I expected him to do? Ditch Tiffany to walk me back himself? He couldn’t, but that didn’t make me feel any better. It just frustrated me more.
“He’s an intense dude,” Corbin said as we walked away.
I couldn’t answer, not without snapping at Corbin, who had nothing to do with this.
“You want to go check out the lake?” Corbin said. “It’s a little bit of a walk, but it’s amazing at night.”
“No, thanks. I have to be up early.”
“We both do.” Corbin didn’t speak again until we reached my cabin. He shoved his hands in his hoodie and backed away. “Later.”
“Are you mad?”
He stopped. “I don’t know, Lake. I’ve asked you out a couple times, and—”
“That was you asking me out?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Well. It was no big gesture, I admit, but you don’t have to be mean about it.”
Corbin had been nothing but gentlemanly tonight. Since I’d met him, actually. And he was right, I’d sort of blown him off both times. Me, blowing off a Swenson. It was so insane, I almost laughed. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not really . . . I don’t date.”
“Never?”
I shook my head. “For one, my dad says I’m too young.”
“He’s a real hard-ass, isn’t he?”
“Kind of.”
“And the second reason?”
“What?”
“You said for one. What’s two?”
“Oh.” I didn’t have a second reason I could vocalize. There was crushing on a boy like him, and there was whatever I felt for Manning. They didn’t compare in my eyes. “It’s just an expression.”
Corbin raised the zipper on his hoodie. The temperature had dropped once the sun had disappeared. He nodded behind him. “It doesn’t have anything to do with that guy, does it?”
“Who? Manning?” Despite the chill, my scalp warmed. “No. Why?”
“No reason. Will you come to the baseball game tomorrow? Cheer me on?”
I’d pretty much been a jerk, turning him down, but he still wanted to see me. Corbin was sweet, fine, and by some odd turn of events, he might like me. I should just say yes. It was so much easier than this back-and-forth rollercoaster with Manning that left my stomach in knots. With Corbin, there were no knots. There wasn’t anything, really. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.
I nodded. “I’ll come.”
“Cool. See you in the morning.”
“Corbin?” I said as he turned. “Thanks for walking me back.”
He smiled. “Anytime.”
15
Lake
For morning Reflection, everyone gathered on the wooden bleachers to face the rising sun. Birds chirped, blue sky peeked through the treetops. While Gary spoke softly about positive intentions and what the day would bring, nine pairs of feet plus Tiffany’s trudged in. At seven-ten, they were the final cabin to arrive, which meant Tiffany would spend her morning cleaning up half-eaten food and used napkins. I couldn’t muster any sympathy. She knew the rules.
“Each morning, we’ll sing a special song to begin the day,” Gary said. “I discovered it earlier this year and thought—that song has a great message. You might’ve heard it on the radio. ‘Shine’ by Collective Soul is about the quest for guidance and acceptance. It has religious undertones, but you can sing it however it makes sense to you. But first, I want each cabin to come together and decide what they’re grateful for on this beautiful morning. The counselors will share it with the group.”
We huddled with the girls, who looked as energized and excited as they had getting on the bus the morning before.
“What are we grateful for?” Hannah asked.
“That we don’t have to clean up our mess today,” Bettina said.
“You’re grateful for Bobby Newman,” one of the girls teased.
Hannah and I looked at each other. “Let’s try for something a little deeper,” I said. “Any ideas, Hannah?”
“How about if we’re grateful for each other?” Hannah asked. “Friendship.”
“Three Musketeers,” Katie added. “It’s my favorite candy.”
“Friendship it is,” Hannah said.
Gary called everyone’s attention back to the front. “Friendship” came up three times before Manning’s turn. “We’re grateful for a lot of things,” he said, scanning the faces of the boys in his cabin. “But today, we’d like to say our thanks for the release of Mortal Kombat II last month. As a cabin, we agree that this is one of the best things to happen this year so far.”
Everyone stayed silent until Gary burst into laughter. “All right. That’s a new one. Videogames. I like it. Who wants to go next? Cabin four?”
I glanced at Hannah, who nodded and mouthed, Candy.
I sighed. “Cabin four is grateful for . . . Three Musketeers bars.” The girls cheered. “And,” I added when they’d calmed down, “having someone to shar
e them with.”
Gary clapped. “Good one, cabin four.”
As it turned out, despite a morning of good intentions, large breakfasts, and lots of laughter, everything came crashing down when I checked our schedule for the day. Right off the bat, we were headed for danger—horseback riding. It wasn’t even my fear that bothered me. It was that I’d miss out on sharing an activity with the girls.
As a group, we walked from the dining hall through dirt and dead grass toward the stables. “Look, there’s Bobby Newman,” Katie squealed, pointing. I spotted a couple more boys from Manning’s cabin. Then his co-counselor Kirk. Like a trail of breadcrumbs, my eyes followed until they landed on Manning as he helped a camper up onto a saddle.
“We’re paired with them today?” I asked Hannah.
“Looks like it.”
Now, hanging back at the stable was even worse. I’d not only be missing out on quality time with the girls, but with Manning as well.
“Want me to stay behind with you?” Hannah asked. “I’m sure Manning and the instructors can handle it.”
I turned and squinted at the stables. The horses were beautiful . . . and enormous. If possible, they seemed even bigger than the year before. A small part of me wanted to be brave just so I wouldn’t miss this time with Manning.
“It’s okay,” I told Hannah. “The girls will want you there.”
One of the handlers came out of the stable in cowboy boots. He waved at the girls. “Who wants to ride a horse?” They screamed and took off running toward him. For a moment, he looked terrified, but quickly recovered. “Okay, okay. Slow down. You don’t want to spook the poor things.”
“You or the horses?” Hannah teased.
Manning looked up at the commotion. Once he’d secured his camper, he came over to us. “I’ve never ridden a horse. Believe that?”
That he’d never climbed on the back of a wild animal and expected it do what he said? Yes, I believed that. What sane person would? I bit my thumbnail. “Me, neither.”
“It’ll be a first for us both, then. Come on.”
Hannah followed, but I stayed where I was. Horses on the ground didn’t frighten me—it was the thought of getting on and letting go. What stopped the horse from doing whatever the hell it wanted? What if it suddenly had some kind of psychotic break? I’d never broken a bone, and I didn’t want to start today.
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