[Something in the Way 01.0] Something in the Way

by Jessica Hawkins

  I glanced at my untouched food, my silverware, the melting candle. Then at Tiffany. She was right. The friendship was weird, and I didn’t want her thinking too hard about that. “My sister died,” I said.

  Tiffany stopped chewing. “What?”

  “I had a little sister. I can’t . . . talk about it. I don’t want to. But that’s why I get so protective of Lake. I don’t ever want you or your family to go through what mine did.”

  “Oh, God,” she whispered, letting her fork clatter onto the plate. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. When you mentioned your sister, I thought . . . I thought—”

  “It’s okay.” I needed her to stop talking. “It’s been years, so.”

  “What was her name?”

  I swallowed. I didn’t talk about Maddy. I would never say her name to a stranger, and that was how most people had felt to me since it’d happened. “Can’t.”

  She took my hand. “Was she sick?”

  My head began to swim. I nodded just to end the conversation, even if it was with a lie.

  “Manning?” Tiffany stood up and came to me.

  I tried to stop her. “You really don’t need to—”

  She moved the table, actually pushed it back a foot, so she could sit on my lap.

  “Tiff,” I said, but I put my arms around her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  She touched my cheek, running her thumb over the corner of my mouth. “I’m sorry.”

  I wasn’t sure how to feel. I didn’t want to talk about it, period. But it felt nice to be touched. It was something I hadn’t had in a long time, the soothing touch of a woman who cared. “Thanks.”

  She ran her long fingernails over my hairline, and my eyes drooped shut. “That’s why you’re so protective.”

  “Part of it.”

  She took my face in both hands and kissed my forehead. “I can’t imagine if that happened to Lake. I’d die.”

  My throat thickened. Thinking that could happen to Lake, but also that Tiffany cared way more about her sister than she let on. I wished I could promise Tiffany it would never happen, but that was the thing about Maddy’s death. I hadn’t fathomed it was even a possibility until it’d already happened. If I had, I would’ve done anything to prevent it.

  I patted Tiffany’s ass. “Come on. Let’s not ruin the date. It’s going well.”

  She pulled back and looked me in the face. There was no minty breath, no cigarette reek stuck to her. Just the earthy tomato sauce and wood cabin. She got up and went back to her side of the table. “Will you finally eat something?”

  I picked up my fork and took a bite. “You should know,” I said, “that I eat a lot.” I shoved noodles in my mouth, and my words came out muffled. “A lot.”

  “Yuck.” Tiffany giggled. “That’s disgusting.”

  I washed down my bite with water. “You should see me with lasagna. Fucking massacre.”

  She laughed harder. Tiffany took a forkful, pursed her lips, and slurped up a noodle. Tomato sauce splattered over her mouth, and instead of wiping it off right away, she just smiled and chewed. She was all right when she dropped the show. Her attitude could even be cute. The highlights, pink nail polish, low-cut tops—they didn’t attract me. Not more than any girl I might meet in a bar. This side of her, I could spend time with.

  Dessert was store-bought chocolate cake with raspberry drizzle. Tiffany took two bites and slid her plate away. “I’m on a diet.”

  “You don’t need to be on a diet.”

  “That’s because I’m on one.” She waggled her eyebrows as if she’d bested me. “If I weren’t, I wouldn’t look this good.”

  I wouldn’t argue with that. She did look good, and I liked that she knew it. That was one difference between Tiffany and a lot of the girls I’d met over the last few years. I ate half her cake in one bite and swallowed. “You think I should go on a diet?”

  She smiled. “No. You’re a guy, and a big one. You can eat as much as you want. You work out, too. Don’t you?”

  “Construction kind of requires it.”

  She looked at her plate, which had become mine, and frowned. “I’ve been meaning to say . . . I’m sorry if my dad made you feel bad about what you do.”

  “I get it. He wants you to be taken care of.” I liked construction but not that my next job was always up in the air. I saved every dime I could just in case. I didn’t ever want to end up with nothing to offer. In that way, I understood Tiffany’s dad. When the time came, nobody’d ever be able to accuse me of not taking care of my family.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter to me. Money’s not important.”

  “You say that because you have it. Living without it sounds glamorous to you.”

  She waved me off. “I’d rather be in love than rich.”

  It was becoming clear Tiffany didn’t expect much of me when it came to earning potential. And that she didn’t know herself as well as she thought. A girl like her would always need money. “You’re saying you’re okay with spaghetti and meatballs in a small room with a shitty candle instead of a fancy restaurant?”

  “I’ve been to lots of fancy restaurants. You can’t do the slurp-y thing with your noodles.”

  She might believe she’d choose love over money, but I didn’t. Not when it came down to it. “I get the feeling you aren’t really enjoying all this. Roughing it.”

  She shrugged, her silliness dimming. “It’s fine.”

  “That wasn’t convincing.” I sat back in my chair. “Is it the girls?”

  “They hate me. I hate them. I can’t even . . . I don’t know how to handle them.”

  If I didn’t think it’d hurt her feelings, I would’ve laughed. Surely Tiffany could see why she was having so much trouble. The girls were mini-versions of her. I leaned my elbows on the table. “Know what I think?”

  “What?”

  “There isn’t a person here who could handle them better than you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s because you haven’t spent any time with my cabin.”

  “Those kids, they’re just starting to learn about makeup and boys and clothing. Who knows more about that girly shit than you?”

  “Nobody,” she stated.

  “Exactly. People have different skills, Tiff. Use yours. It can’t be easy to put that black shit on your eyelids.”

  She giggled. “Eyeliner? It’s not. It’s hard, actually.”

  Did I think twelve-year-olds away from home should be learning to apply makeup? Not really. But in the scheme of things, I guessed it wasn’t so bad if it meant it’d change their experience here for the positive, and Tiffany’s, too. “Give them a lesson.”

  “All right,” she said. “I guess I could try that. Then I’ll teach them how to be stylish, even in hiking boots.”

  “There you go.” I finished off both desserts and stood. “I’ll walk you back.”

  She also got up. “It’s still early.”

  “Not in camp time. It’s like I need twice the amount of sleep here.”

  As we walked outside, she grabbed my hand, but when I squeezed hers, she relaxed. My palm was probably clammy. The site was quiet, even more so as we headed into the woods. I could’ve used a cigarette, but I didn’t want to stop. Best I got her to her cabin quickly.

  She took it upon herself, though, not that it surprised me. She stopped, getting me to look back with a light tug on my hand. “I want to thank you for dinner.”

  “How?” I asked, but I knew.

  She rose onto the balls of her feet and pressed her lips to mine. I stood still as a statue, as did she. This was the point where I was supposed to take over. I put my arm around her waist. For all her bravado, she melted against me quicker than I would’ve guessed, dissolving into our kiss. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t sure if I wanted it. It was happening. Any guy at this camp would’ve killed to be in my position.

  I tried not to think of the horse earlier, of the defiant pout I’d left behind when I’d picked up Tiff
any for our date tonight.

  I didn’t realize my hand was on the back of Tiffany’s head until I pulled her hair, and she moaned, bringing me back to the moment. She pushed her tongue against my lips, and I opened my mouth. I owed her my attention, but she also demanded it. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me harder. I followed her lead, going through the motions, trying not to give in to the wet, willing mouth attached to mine. She took my bottom lip between her teeth and nipped it. My dick woke up. Fuck, this girl knew what she was doing.

  An owl hooted so loud, I jumped back as if we’d been caught. I held her at a distance by her waist.

  “What?” she whispered.

  “I . . . should get you back.”

  “Seriously?” She stepped into me and trailed soft fingers along the back of my neck, playing with the ends of my hair.

  It’d been months since I’d kissed someone. Two seconds in, we’d stripped down to jump in bed. She’d told me her name, but I couldn’t remember it now.

  “I’m just getting started,” Tiffany said.

  “I know.” Between being turned on and needing to keep our bodies apart, I was a little out of breath. “That’s why I have to stop. You’re getting me excited, and there’s not really anything I can do about it until we get home. Know what I mean?”

  “Who says we have to wait?” She removed an arm from around my neck, lowering it to my pants.

  I caught her wrist. “I promised Gary we’d keep it PG.”

  She smiled. “How would he know? Unless he’s watching with binoculars, the pervert.”

  “I told you.” I had to force the words out while my angry cock throbbed. “I like to take things slow.”

  She sighed, softening against my chest. “I guess. But this is super slow.”

  “And what’s wrong with that?” I asked with a grunt. Here was a girl who had what men wanted and actually knew it. Why give it up so fast? “You should be the one making me wait.”

  She moved away from me. “What do you mean?”

  “You know you’re worth more than that.” The only sound was her breathing. “It’ll happen,” I said. “Just be patient.”

  She didn’t respond right away. What she was thinking about, I had no idea. “Okay,” she said finally. “We can stay slow for a while.”

  “Good.” I took her hand again and led her to her cabin. “See you in the morning. Seven o’clock sharp, all right? I don’t want to see you on cleaning duty again.”

  She wandered away, a little dazed, while I wondered why pointing out her worth had only seemed to confuse her.

  18

  Lake

  For the second night in a row, Manning didn’t come to the dining hall after lights-out. Tiffany did—at least that meant she wasn’t with him. With Manning away, boys had been approaching her all night like bees with honey or moths to a flame. That’s what Tiffany was to them, whether they knew it or not. A honeyed-flame. One poor guy had been circling for an hour, working up the nerve to talk to her. Tiffany didn’t even notice him.

  Tiffany, Hannah, and I sat in a circle on the floor with a few other counselors. Tiffany crossed her legs under her. “I don’t remember half these guys from high school. It’s like they haven’t seen a girl in months.”

  “They probably spent four years thinking they’d never get a chance to talk to you,” Hannah said.

  “Most of them are geeks.” She scrunched her nose. “I guess that can be sexy.”

  I glanced around to make sure none of them were within hearing distance, then changed the subject. “How was last night?”

  She checked her makeup in her compact. “Last night?”

  “Your date.”

  “Oh.” She snapped the mirror shut. “So good. So so good.”

  The hair on the back of my neck prickled. “Really?”

  “Not even in a sexual way. Manning just made me realize I’ve been dating boys all this time when there are men out there.”

  “How?” It came out as a whisper, so I cleared my throat. “What did he do?”

  “He arranged this dinner just for me. We had a great talk, where he opened up so much.”

  “About what?”

  “Our relationship and stuff.” She shook her head. “His sister died.”

  It came out fast, like an afterthought or an unwarranted slap across the face. I couldn’t believe he’d shared that with her after I’d asked about his family and he’d said he didn’t talk about it. With anyone. Not even me. He’d given Tiffany this intimate piece of himself and me nothing.

  When the shock wore off, it hit me. He’d had a little sister. And she was gone. His gentleness with me, at times, could be almost brotherly, the way he didn’t smoke or curse in my presence. I couldn’t deny the attraction between us, but it made more sense, his sadness, his intensity, if he was a big brother without a little sister.

  “Then he walked me back to my cabin,” Tiffany continued. “He never acts like I owe him anything. He was a gentleman, you know?”

  That sounded like Manning to me. A gentleman, someone who’d never push me to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with. I wanted that for Tiffany, to be treated well, but not enough to give her Manning.

  “Can you be more specific?” I asked.

  “He was trying to be polite at first . . .”

  At first. At first? “Then what?”

  “Here’s a lesson you’re going to learn sooner or later, Lake, so it might as well be sooner. Men’s brains turn to mush with a little physical contact.”

  My chest rattled with each breath, caving in on itself. I didn’t even know enough about men to understand if getting physical could mean just a kiss or if it was always more. What I wouldn’t give for a dinner date with Manning. And then to be alone with him afterward, to have our first kiss in the quiet dark under pine trees.

  “I’m starting to like this place,” she said. “It’s romantic.”

  I didn’t get a chance to ask for details. The boy who’d been pacing around like a predator finally pounced. “Tiffany, right?” he asked. “We went—”

  “High school?” she asked.

  His face lit up as he wrung his hands. He was definitely more prey than predator. “Yeah! You remember. Armando Diaz.”

  If Manning wasn’t coming, I didn’t want to be here. “You can sit here, Armando,” I said, standing.

  He took my spot without a glance in my direction. “Thanks.”

  After saying goodnight to Hannah, I left the hall. My tennis shoes barely made a sound on the forest floor on the way to my cabin. Bushes I couldn’t even see rustled. There were no lights, just the sliver of a crescent moon, but even it was blocked by trees. Frogs burped a chorus by the lake.

  I heard footsteps before I saw anyone. It unnerved me, not being able to see who was there, which direction they were coming from. I turned around. “Hello . . .?”

  “You’re not making a very good case for walking alone in the woods,” Manning said.

  It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to his big frame a few feet in front of me, shadowed, but undeniably his.

  “Haven’t you ever seen Friday the 13th?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Is everyone in your family this stubborn?”

  I wanted to make some remark about his family and how he’d betrayed me by telling Tiffany something it would’ve made more sense to tell me, someone who cared. But if it was true about his sister, a snarky comment didn’t seem right. “I’m not trying to be,” I said. “I didn’t want to stay in there by myself.”

  “You have your sister. Your friends are in there. You have Hannah.”

  I don’t have you. Before him, I would’ve loved having Tiffany treat me like a friend instead of a pest. Now, I didn’t care to be anywhere Manning wasn’t. I glanced at the ground. “Why didn’t you come tonight?”

  “I’m on patrol. Supposed to be walking the site, checking on cabins.”

  I exhaled softly, quietly relieved. He hadn’t pu
rposely been avoiding me. “Can I walk with you?”

  He hesitated. “It’s not really a two-person job.”

  “I’m not ready to go to sleep. Please?”

  Silhouetted against the trees, he ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll walk you back to your bunk, but we can take the long way.”

  He passed me, and I turned to follow him in the opposite direction of my cabin. “Did you have a good day?”

  “We have to be quiet. Don’t want to wake up the kids.”

  “Did you have a good day?” I whispered.

  His sigh ended in a light laugh. “It was hectic. Yours?”

  “I got a bullseye during archery.”

  “Yeah?” He sounded impressed. “None of my boys managed that. Me, neither.”

  “I practiced a lot last year.” I shrugged. “This was my first bullseye, though.”

  “Wish I’d seen it.”

  It was a pretty cool thing on its own, but knowing Manning thought so, too, made me proud.

  We walked a little longer in silence, me sneaking glances at him. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed a paperback in his pocket. “Are you still reading that same book as before?”

  “Nah. I grabbed something new from the cafeteria. You see they have a book exchange?”

  “Yes, but I haven’t had time to read at all.”

  “Started your dad’s list yet?”

  I’d imagined him asking me this a few times since my last visit to the library. I wasn’t sure I’d be brave enough to say what I wanted, but it helped that he couldn’t see me blushing. “Not yet. I decided to take your advice and check out a book not on the list. One about something that . . . interested me.”

  “Oh yeah? Which one?”

  Despite the cool mountain air, my body warmed, because once I said what I’d chosen, it’d be obvious why. “Lolita.”

  Manning didn’t respond.

  My heart beat in my throat, getting louder as the silence stretched between us. “You know of it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s about—”

  “I know what it’s about. And I don’t want to talk about it.”