[Something in the Way 01.0] Something in the Way

by Jessica Hawkins

  My head was still foggy, my ears buzzing. I didn’t want Lake to take over while I was out of sorts. Maddy had died around the same age as these girls surrounding me. I was responsible for them. Should I be doing more to keep them safe? Things I hadn’t done for Madison? The day she’d died, it wasn’t the first time my dad had gone into a rage. So why hadn’t my mom or I had him locked up sooner? Why hadn’t I been gentler, more understanding with Maddy?

  “Manning?” Lake asked.

  “In a minute.”

  “But we’re falling behind.”

  The rest of the campers were yards ahead, so I tapped Betsy into a trot. Lake bounced underneath me, skidding backward in the saddle until she was right up against my crotch. Up until this point, as a grown man, I’d thought I could control myself. Even earlier, when she’d squeezed me as tightly as a predator would its prey, her hands dangerously low on my stomach, I’d kept it together. But now, my body reacted only as a man. I wanted to wrap my arms around her front, pull her closer, let her feel what she did to me. I was losing control.

  “Take the reins, Lake.” I slowed Betsy down and said, “Now. Come on.”

  She did, and I slid back to put some space between us.

  “I’m not going to the dining hall tonight,” I announced.

  “What?” Her fine blonde hairs floated between us and stuck to my chest. “Why not?”

  I guess I’d said it to put it out there. To put a different kind of distance between us. Because I knew, I knew she’d ask why. How much had she heard the night before in the woods? Tiffany and I had been arguing because I’d refused, yet again, to go on a “walk” with her. She didn’t want to walk. She wanted to fool around.

  “I came here for you,” Tiffany had said once Lake’d gone off with that kid. “You think I like this?” she’d asked. “The girls hate me. I’m here for you, and you don’t even care.”

  “I care,” I’d said.

  Tiffany had stamped out her cigarette in the woods without a thought for how dangerous that might be. “Then prove it,” she’d said and walked off.

  I’d needed to hear it. Being up here, rules changed. There wasn’t anything wrong with hanging around a sixteen-year-old, and it was messing with my head. Tiffany was out of her element, and she needed my help. Lake could handle herself. Maybe it was the wakeup call Lake and I both needed.

  “Tiffany and I have plans,” I told Lake. “Alone.”

  Lake had the posture of a college professor. It made her reactions easy to read. I expected disappointment, and that’s what I got. My instinct was to comfort her, but that’d probably be the worst thing I could do to a teenage girl I was pretty sure harbored a crush on me.

  “What plans?” she asked. “You can’t leave the grounds.”

  “I can if I want.” I was a grown man, and I’d go where I liked. But I wouldn’t. Where I wanted to be, one of the main reasons I’d come here, was where I could watch over Lake. I wasn’t going to go off for a few hours and leave her behind. “Bucky’s going to make us dinner after lights-out.”

  “Oh.”

  There was a fine line between hurting her and warning her off, and I could tell by her reaction I’d achieved the former. Knowing it was best didn’t make me feel better. Not thirty minutes ago, she’d pulled her body close to mine, told me she was getting older every day. It wasn’t news to me, and it tore me down the middle. I didn’t want her to get older, to know what I knew, to do things Tiffany had done. But it would happen regardless. Someone else would be her first love. Some other man would be the first to cherish her. The first to ruin her. It couldn’t be me. It wasn’t so much the difference in our ages that scared me, but how much a person could change, could be changed, in only a couple years.

  They were thoughts I didn’t want to have, and they got louder as she sat quietly, guiding the horse. There wasn’t a single blemish on her pink cheeks. I opened my mouth to ask if she’d put on sunscreen, but that wasn’t what came out. “What about that guy?”

  She sighed. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

  I’d gone too far, maybe. “Do what?”

  “Drive.” She held up the reins. “Will you?”

  I took them back as discontent rolled off her. “Lake?”

  “Were you with her last night?” she asked. “Is that why she was late this morning?”

  I had no idea that was even on her mind. It really fucking shouldn’t have been. She should be thinking about campfire skits and summer reading lists and whatever else young girls thought about. “That’s between me and your sister.”

  “Oh. Okay. Then don’t ask me about that guy. And his name is Corbin.”

  I knew his name, but I wasn’t going to use it. I didn’t like how he kept appearing out of nowhere, how he’d set his sights on Lake but also knew Tiffany through his brother. “Did he just take you back to your cabin or what?”

  “I want to get off.”

  “And do what?” I asked. “Walk back?”

  “It’s not that far.”

  “I’m not prying, just making sure he was polite. That he didn’t, you know, try anything.”

  Her breathing sped. Her heart had pounded against my back earlier. I was better than her at hiding it, but my reaction to her was the same. Physical. Powerful. Painful.

  “I’m not going to let you down,” I said.

  She looked over the side of the horse, as if she were thinking of jumping off. I had no business asking her what I did, making her feel sad or bad for letting Corbin walk her back like any normal teen girl would’ve done. My hands sweat around the leather reins. “Hold on,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Grab something. The saddle, my arms, whatever.”

  Once she had the horn, I applied pressure to Betsy’s sides. She took off into a trot. “What are you doing?” Lake asked, grabbing my forearms instead.

  I nudged the horse again, and she picked up her pace. “Relax.”

  “You don’t even know how to ride,” she cried. “Stop.”

  I steered the horse alongside the other campers, who hollered at us. One of the instructors cheered us on. He’d called Betsy wild, but he wouldn’t put us on a horse that couldn’t be controlled. We cantered to the front of the group.

  Lake squirmed between my legs, her fingers digging into my skin. “Manning—please.”

  “Please what, Birdy? I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

  She didn’t ease her hold on me, but she relaxed her back against my front as we pulled out ahead of the group. Instinctively, I put an arm around her, holding her to me, just us, just for a second. Some strands of her hair flew into my mouth, but she was laughing again. It came from a place of pure joy. I liked that laugh so much, that carefree sound in my ears.

  My world had been so dark before Lake.

  It worried me how far I’d go to keep that light in my life.

  17

  Manning

  Tiffany bounced in place, her eyes closed and her smile big. She’d pulled her hair back into a twisty-bun thing and kept everything simple with a loose sundress and little makeup. She was a natural beauty. “Where are you taking me?” she asked.

  It wasn’t as if I had the world at my fingertips, just a few places where there weren’t any people. I led her away from the dining hall, where all the other counselors were hanging out, to a staff dining area off the kitchen. Gary and I had set it up earlier with a black tablecloth and a tall, white candle.

  Tiffany opened her eyes when we stepped inside. “Oh my God,” she said. “This is so romantic.”

  I pulled out a chair for her, then cupped my hand around the candle and lit the wick with my Zippo.

  “You went through all this for me?” she asked.

  I sat across from her. “You wanted me to prove it. I am.”

  She studied me. “You really are old-fashioned, aren’t you? For a minute, I was worried you didn’t like me.”

  “I like you.” At least, I was coming to appreciate thi
ngs about her. She was adventurous and bold. No girls I knew were as unapologetic about their sexuality. And, she was beautiful. I hated myself for thinking it, but it was true. All the counselors knew it. I’d shut down some of the guys talking about her, had heard some jealous snipes from the other girls.

  “I like you, too,” she said, sounding surprised. It occurred to me that she might also like other guys. I’d never had trouble getting women, but maybe I couldn’t hang on to a girl like Tiffany as long as I wanted. And then what? I’d go back to being alone, trying to keep the past at bay. Drinking, smoking, using my hands to build things for other people. It wasn’t a bad life. I slept with who I wanted. I didn’t have to watch my mouth or not light my cigs.

  “Are you seeing anyone else?” I asked.

  She darted her eyes over the table. “Are you?”

  “Nope. Are you?” I asked again.

  “Well . . . not really. I didn’t think you’d care if I did, though.”

  Bucky came strolling out and made no secret about looking Tiff over. “Dinner’s about ready. I asked him what you like in your spaghetti but he didn’t know. How’s a man not know what his girl likes?”

  Dick. I had a feeling he’d been waiting to call me out like that ever since I’d asked him for seconds the day before. I owed him for making us dinner, but if I didn’t I’d have told him to fuck off.

  “Meatballs, I guess?” Tiffany said with a smile to egg him on. “What else is there?”

  “Anything you want, gorgeous. Mushrooms, eggplant, roasted pepper, chicken . . .”

  “You mind calling her by her name?” I asked. “We’re on a date here.”

  Tiffany’s eyes twinkled. “I’ll take some wine if you have it,” she said to him. “Otherwise, whatever you made is fine.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” Bucky sucked his teeth and returned to the kitchen.

  “You’re . . .” She shook her head. “Not like anyone I’ve dated.”

  “Same for you.”

  “Is that a good thing?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, Tiff. Most girls, I tell them something once and they listen, not three times. Even if Bucky flies to Italy and brings us back a bottle, I already told you, we’re not drinking wine.”

  I prepared for her to argue, but instead she heaved a sigh. “I know. I’m just nervous.”

  “No you’re not.”

  She smiled, looking up at me from under her lashes. “Yes I am. Usually when I’m alone with a guy, we’re either drinking or smoking or there are people in the other room. It feels weird to just be out here in the middle of nowhere on a real date.”

  Huh. That was something we pretty much had in common. When I brought a girl home, it was probably after a drink or four at my local spot. “Bad weird?”

  “No . . .” She picked at nothing on the tablecloth. “Just different. Why’d you ask if I was seeing anyone else?”

  For a conversation like this, I needed a fucking cigarette. I guessed that’s what Tiffany was talking about, getting too intense without something to take the edge off. “Maybe it’s too early for that.”

  “Yeah.” She unfolded her napkin into her lap. “Maybe.”

  “When I’m with a girl, she won’t be sleeping with anyone else. Understand?”

  “No. You don’t want me for yourself, but you don’t want me with anyone else?”

  My stomach grumbled. “I guess. I mean . . . it sounds fucked up. What do you want?”

  “I haven’t been in a serious relationship since high school. And even then, it was . . .” She shrugged.

  It wasn’t really an answer, but she didn’t say anything else, just twirled a saltshaker on the table.

  Maybe she really was nervous. I put my hand over hers to stop her fidgeting, and I think it surprised us both a little. She flipped her palm up and flexed her fingers, lacing them with mine. Tiffany sat in front of me, but she wasn’t quite the brazen girl I’d seen until now.

  “Your hands are rough,” she said. “Is that from work?”

  “Pretty much. It’s definitely not from baseball.”

  She giggled. “I guess not.”

  Corbin had left camp, but not before he’d beat my ass on the diamond. I’d had to sit through nine innings of baseball against him this evening. I’d played a little in high school, so I’d been picked to coach the opposing team. Corbin had been in and out of baseball camp all summer and obliterated us while Tiffany and Lake had watched from the grass. Smug satisfaction sat on Corbin’s face as we shook hands after the game but disappeared completely as soon as Lake came around.

  I released Tiffany’s hand. “What’s the deal with him?” I asked. “Corbin.”

  She folded her arms on the table. “He’s a good guy, comes from a good family. Kind of a heartbreaker.”

  “So he’s a little shit.”

  She laughed. “No. He doesn’t do it on purpose. That’s why I was worried about Lake. Like, if Corbin had a crush on me and thought he could get close to me through her or maybe that Lake was, like, a substitute for me, then I’d worry he might hurt her. But he wouldn’t do it on purpose, you know? He’s not like that. He’s just a boy thinking with his . . . you know.”

  Brave, bold Tiffany couldn’t come out and say what she wanted. It made me smile. Part of me wanted to hear it, just to tease her, but there was a bigger part of me that wanted to know about Corbin. “So do you think he’s a problem?”

  She cocked her head. “How?”

  Did I want him to be a problem? Maybe a little. That way I’d have an excuse to keep him away. “I don’t know. Will he try pressuring your sister into anything?”

  “He’s not like that.” She rolled her eyes. “But maybe he should.”

  “What?”

  “I’m kidding. Of course I don’t want Lake to do anything before she’s ready, and she won’t. She’s too uptight. I swear she’s the youngest sixteen-year-old I know.”

  “Meaning?”

  “When it comes to boys, she acts like she’s twelve, but she isn’t. When I was her age, I wasn’t so naïve about these things. None of my friends were.”

  I shifted in my seat. It was just like on the horse earlier, Lake trying to convince me she was older while I wanted to keep her innocent. “Maybe you were like that and you just forgot what it’s like to be that age.”

  She laughed. “My freshman year, my first boyfriend was quarterback of the varsity football team. A senior. You think he treated me like a kid? No. He taught me and my friends how to sneak out of the house. How to party. Before him, I’d had one beer in my life. By the end of the year, I took beer bongs as an appetizer.”

  I couldn’t picture Tiffany at sixteen, which left me picturing Lake. They shared certain expressions that made me wonder if Tiffany had ever been as sweet and pure as her sister—or if Lake was bound to become like Tiffany. Lake was on the right track. USC would open up all sorts of doors for her. Nothing should get in her way, especially not someone like me who had no steady job, a murky past, and little more than what fit in a bedroom. Tiffany, though, she was going through something she probably couldn’t recognize, not being motivated to find work or do anything of substance. She needed a hand out of it, and her dad was too busy with Lake. Even her mom hadn’t seemed to want to help, more interested in getting me to date Tiffany.

  There was a pretty good chance I could be good for Tiffany, and an even better one I’d be bad for Lake.

  Bucky returned and set both plates down. “It took some bargaining, but I got your wine,” he said to Tiffany. “It’s in the back. Hope you like red.”

  “We don’t want any wine,” I said. “She’s underage.”

  Tiffany nodded. “I changed my mind.”

  With a visible sneer, Bucky muttered something under his breath that sounded like asshole. I had no idea what the fuck his problem was, but I didn’t ask him to repeat himself. I wouldn’t be able to control my reaction if I was right.

  “This is so good,” Tiffany said when we were
alone again.

  The food smelled damn tempting, but our conversation still weighed on my mind. “You don’t think she’ll head down that path, right?”

  Tiffany cut her meatballs into halves. “Who?”

  “Lake.” I was pretty sure I knew the answer, but I wasn’t around much in the big scheme of things. “The parties and sneaking out and stuff.”

  “Oh. No.”

  I exhaled. Lake had a good head on her shoulders, and I had to trust that. I went to pick up my fork.

  “She should,” Tiffany added, “but she probably won’t.”

  I paused. “What do you mean should?”

  “It makes me a little sad how she just does what Dad says all the time. Like he’s so perfect? He isn’t, you know.”

  I had to agree there. “Still, it means she stays out of trouble.”

  “And has no fun. I’m not saying she needs to be like I was. I don’t want her to be. I just don’t want her to look back and wish she’d been more . . . I don’t know. Balanced. Social. So what if she has a little too much to drink one night and embarrasses herself doing karaoke at a party? Or misses curfew because she lost track of time talking to a cute boy? Or ditches one class to go get ice cream at the mall?” She took a sip of water. “Big deal. She’ll be eighteen in a couple years anyway.”

  I stared at her. I hadn’t even taken a bite. Was she saying Lake was almost eighteen? The way I’d been looking at it, she still had two long years to go, to change, to become who she was meant to be.

  “Why do you bring her up so much?” Tiffany asked.

  That was simple. “I worry.”

  “But why?” Her tone was casual as she twirled noodles onto her fork. She lifted a shoulder. “You guys have a weird friendship.”

  A tremor of panic rose up my chest. Couldn’t I have just kept my fucking mouth shut? No, because that was what Lake did to me. Truth was, I had good reason to be worried. A reason that would shut Tiffany right up. I just didn’t want to share it. I sat back in my seat, staring at my food for a minute as I worked up the nerve.

  “You’re not eating,” Tiffany said, blinking big, pretty eyes at me, seemingly concerned. “I told you you’d spoil your appetite if you ate dinner with the kids.”