Move the Stars_Something in the Way

by Jessica Hawkins

  Better than all right. New York had been a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but California was in my blood. I wasn’t so sure about the reality TV thing, but there could still be some opportunities for me in Hollywood, so this felt like where I needed to be right now. The thing I still lacked was what Corbin described—a home. Val’s house and my little bungalow in Santa Monica with Bree had been good substitutes, always filled with friends and food and sometimes pets since we dog-sat a lot. Still, as my sister flirted with my current fling, I knew my life would never go back to what it’d been before I’d left. The rift between my dad and me was too big, and especially now that I knew he’d cheated on my mom, I wasn’t willing to cross it. Nor could Tiffany and I ever just be sisters again.

  A lump formed in my throat with the biggest truth of all—without Manning, I didn’t know that I even wanted to try and make a home anywhere else. I thought I could float through cities and decades if I were never anchored to him. Did I even want that anymore? It’d gotten so hard to even think of Manning. Sean and everyone I’d dated since had been easy, and that seemed like the way to go in the future.

  “It sounds like you got it all figured out,” I said to Corbin. “I’m jealous.”

  “Of me? You’re the one killing it out here. See all the people who showed up to watch your ascent into stardom? And how many of our friends, all those people you worked with who are barely getting by, watched you on TV in New York tonight?”

  He always knew how to make me smile in spite of myself. I took his hand and squeezed it. “As long as you and Val aren’t going anywhere, then that’s all I need.”

  I realized Tiffany and Sean had stopped talking and were both looking at me. Sean pinched his joint and stood. “Well, I’m in no shape to ride. It’s cool if I stay the night with you, Lakey?”

  “Sure,” I said. “We can leave in a bit.”

  “Dope.” He winked at me. “I’m going to get another drink.”

  When he’d gone inside, the look on Corbin’s face sent me into a fit of giggles. “Did he say Lakey?” Corbin asked.

  It took me a minute to catch my breath. I just hoped the nickname didn’t catch on nationwide.

  Tiffany fidgeted with her pack of cigarettes as if she wanted to light another. It annoyed me how Manning, and now she, too, couldn’t get a grip on such a life-threatening habit. She shifted in her seat and joked, “Third wheel.”

  “Hardly,” Corbin said.

  “Why is that, though?” she asked. “How come you two never got together? Or did you and nobody knew?”

  “We’re too good of friends,” Corbin said, and I wondered with the swiftness of his answer, how many times he’d given it before.

  I was grateful, though—that he’d saved me from having to answer, and that he recognized it was true. What Corbin and I had was special. Maybe if we’d ever slept together or decided to date, we wouldn’t be friends now, and that would be the real tragedy. “I figure there’s some saintly woman out there who deserves him,” I added. “It’s not me.”

  “No, I guess not,” Tiffany said. “Not very saintly to sleep with a married man.”

  Maybe I deserved that, but my cheeks flamed nonetheless. I hated that she’d said it in front of Corbin. Since he was quick to defend me in any situation, his silence confirmed that he agreed. He still didn’t bring up Manning’s name in any other context than as Tiffany’s ex-husband, but that didn’t mean Corbin was in the dark about anything.

  But it was out there now, and once my shame wore off a bit, I was actually a little relieved. I’d lived in this secret world with Manning so long, I was exhausted from hiding our attraction to each other. So, in the interest of honesty, I finally stopped trying to protect everyone. “Did you ever really love Manning?” I asked. “Or did you just marry him to spite me?”

  Tiffany’s blue eyes flashed over me before she glanced at the ashtray. She went to pick up her pack again, but I snatched it and threw it in the pool. “Hey,” she said.

  “Just stop already. You and—” I stopped myself from saying Manning. “You’re better than those cigarettes. It’s not an emotional crutch—it’s a filthy habit that will kill you.”

  “What Lake’s trying to say is that she cares what happens to you.” Corbin gave me a reproachful look. “And she’s right. Smoking like a chimney isn’t going to make anything better.”

  Tiffany slumped down in her seat, biting her cuticle. “Fine. You want the truth? Until Manning came along, I had one thing you didn’t—men wanted me. You had the grades and Dad’s attention and USC, but I could flirt the pants off a gay man.” Her gaze darted from me to Corbin and back. “Then when I saw how Manning looked at you, suddenly everything changed. Guys started noticing you, too. Including Corbin, but he’d wanted me first, didn’t you, Corbin?”

  Corbin stilled, only his eyes moving as he looked between us. “Oh, I … uh.” He shifted in his seat. “Yeah, I guess. When you were dating Cane, you were like the girl. It was hard not to, like, like you.”

  He looked so uncomfortable that I brought the conversation back to myself. “I was sixteen,” I said to Tiffany. “I got boobs and grew into my limbs that summer. It wasn’t Manning’s fault.”

  “But Manning … he was the one thing you wanted,” she said. “It was so painfully obvious you had this little-girl crush on him that first day he came over for a sandwich.”

  “So that’s why you went out with him?” I asked. “To rub it in my face?”

  “It wasn’t that conniving. It bothered Dad and it annoyed you, so it was kind of fun. Manning just felt like some rare thing I could have and you couldn’t.” She looked longingly at the pack of smokes bobbing in the pool. “I mean, I didn’t plan it like that. When I say it now, it sounds calculated but it just happened. I never meant for things to go so far, you know. Manning was too old for me and not that much fun. He was so serious all the time.”

  Nobody understood that better than me. “All the time,” I agreed.

  Her shoulders rose with a deep inhale. “But it turned out, that was what I needed. Dad had given up on me early. Manning didn’t. He talked to me, not at me. He listened and cared about what I was thinking. At camp, he treated me so well, I let myself believe he was falling for me, too. Then that last night at campfire, when you snuck off with him—”

  “You did?” Corbin pursed his lips at me and sat back. “Fuck.”

  I did my best to look contrite, knowing Corbin wouldn’t like hearing something so out of character for me.

  “It was like …” Tiffany continued. “Like I was starting to really like him and once again, you were getting everything.”

  “So you married him,” I said.

  “It’s probably easier for you to believe I didn’t love him,” she said quietly, “but I did. He was the only person who saw me, who treated me with any respect, even in my own family.”

  “That’s not true,” I said. “I looked up to you, Tiffany. I tried to step in with Dad when I could. I feel like I lost a sister the day of your wedding.”

  Crickets filled the next few moments of silence. Even the party inside seemed to quiet as Tiffany and I avoided each other’s gaze. “Then I guess that means I lost a sister, too,” she said.

  Having Corbin there was less comforting than it normally would’ve been—and a whole lot embarrassing. When it came to Manning, he and I never went there, but I guess now he knew enough.

  Finally, Tiffany got up. “I should get home. I have to work in the morning and it’s a long drive back.”

  “You can stay here,” I offered.

  “It’s fine. Congrats again on all this stuff.” She sounded tired. “I’ll be watching the show. It’s actually really good.”

  There wasn’t anything I could say to take back what I’d done. I didn’t exactly want to jump to forgiveness, either. Tiffany had made mistakes, too. If she’d reacted maturely to anything, ever, we wouldn’t be in this situation. That didn’t mean I wanted her out of my life, though. S
he’d intentionally hurt me, but I wasn’t lacking in compassion like she thought. I understood her actions were less out of malice than fear. “You should come by the set some time.”

  “I … would seriously love that,” she said.

  I knew she would. Tiffany lived for that kind of stuff, and I was pretty sure the possibility of that was a small part of why she’d come tonight. It didn’t matter why, though. I was glad she’d made the effort.

  As she picked up her bag, I stood. I went to hug her, but she wasn’t expecting it, and we did a back-and-forth maneuver while Corbin chuckled. I hugged her more tightly than I meant to.

  “I still need time and distance,” she said, “but I … you haven’t, like, lost me. Not forever.”

  I swallowed. Maybe I hadn’t been fair just now. Maybe Tiffany really had come to see me—and not just on TV. “Same here.”

  Once she’d returned inside and Corbin and I were alone, I said, “I’m sorry you had to hear all that.”

  He just shrugged, leaning on his knees as he laced his fingers together. “Yeah.”

  “But I feel like she’s gotten more empathetic. Maybe it was going through the miscarriage. Or I guess I just haven’t seen her in a while, and we’ve both matured.”

  He nodded at the ground. “Yeah.”

  A moth fluttered around the overhead light. I was rambling. Corbin and I had talked about most things under the sun, but we rarely discussed love. Anything to do with Manning, or Corbin’s feelings for me, we pretended didn’t exist. The longer we sat that way, though, the harder it became to ignore the ebb of Corbin’s normally sunny disposition. “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  He looked through the sliding glass door at Sean, who was checking out Tiffany’s ass as she walked away. “That guy, Lake? Really? In his crusty leather jacket, not understanding half of what’s going on around him?”

  “It’s nothing,” I said. “Easy. Sean and I—we’re just having fun.”

  It took a little bit for him to respond, but for Corbin I had time. I waited until eventually, his blue eyes found their way to mine. I started to smile but stopped, sensing this wasn’t a happy moment. “Why not me?” he asked.

  I flinched, surprised only that he’d asked, not by the question itself. Even though I’d wondered the same thing many times, I only had one answer—the truth—and I wasn’t sure Corbin wanted to hear it. “Corbin …”

  “That guy’s a loser. So are most of the guys you date. Why didn’t you ever give me a shot?”

  Corbin and I had been on countless dinner dates and attended myriad events and parties together. We’d kissed, we’d fooled around, we’d slept in each other’s arms. He’d asked me out and he’d tried for more, but that was a long time ago. We’d become so much more since then. He knew it would never work between us. “You know why,” I said.

  “Manning.” He stuck his tongue in his cheek and got a look like the ones Manning used to get over Corbin. “I never understood it. What was Tiffany talking about, sneaking out at camp? You were so, I don’t know, gullible back then. I knew you had a crush on him, but if I’d realized he was taking advantage of you—”

  “Nothing happened while I was under eighteen,” I said. “New York was the first time.”

  “After he was married to Tiffany.” He opened his hands, shaking his head. “Explain it to me, Lake. What do you see in him?”

  I’d been wrong just now. It wasn’t jealousy I was seeing like I’d thought. Corbin just didn’t trust Manning, and I couldn’t fault him that. “I can’t put it into words,” I said.

  He opened an arm toward the door. “So that guy in there, hitting on your sister—he’s the next best thing?”

  “Not at all. He’s just nothing. We have a good time, he makes me laugh, and he leaves me alone.”

  “I don’t get it. I really don’t. You could have anyone.”

  Anyone? I wanted to say. Don’t you know I don’t want anyone? I want Manning. I pushed the thoughts away and scooted my chair closer to Corbin’s. “You asked why it wasn’t you?” I said. “Of course I thought about you and me a lot, especially after September eleventh.”

  “Yeah,” he said. I didn’t need to explain what I meant—he’d lost not just colleagues but friends in the terrorist attacks, and it was an unspoken truth that it’d changed many of us.

  But because I always wanted Corbin to know how much I cared about him, I did explain, even though I’d told him the story many times. “I remember every detail of that morning,” I said, taking Corbin’s hand. “I was seeing that guy Brandon from Chicago, and we’d been out late, so we were still sleeping when we got the call.”

  “Your mom.”

  I hesitated. I didn’t want to keep anything from Corbin anymore now that we’d started talking honestly about this area of our lives. “Actually no. I never told you, but someone else called first.”

  “Who?” He glanced at my face, and then said, “Oh.”

  Brandon had answered the phone, and a man on the other end of the line had asked for me. I’d picked up with a cheery “hello?”—none the wiser about what’d happened downtown.

  “Lake,” was Manning’s response. Simple. One word. But my name from his mouth—it’d always had a certain kind of power over me.

  “What’s wrong?” I’d asked him.

  “I just needed to hear …” He’d paused and said, “You should call home.”

  I’d held the receiver long after he’d gotten off the line, but the moment I’d hung up, the line had rung again. That time it was my mom and she’d been hysterical, ordering me to turn on the TV.

  “For a split second,” I said to Corbin, “I couldn’t remember where you were.” My eyes filled up, and I blinked the tears away. “Panic completely wiped my brain. I started screaming for Val, and she ran into the bedroom. She hadn’t heard yet so when I asked her where you were, she thought I was going crazy. ‘He left for San Francisco three days ago, you loon,’ she’d said. ‘You took him out to breakfast before the flight.’ When I told Val, she completely lost it, Corbin. I basically had to stop falling apart because she was freaking out so bad. She was inconsolable.”

  Corbin rubbed his face. He’d heard this story, but not all of it.

  I told him the part I’d been keeping to myself. “After the fear and panic and grief I felt that morning, I thought, maybe I do love Corbin. Maybe he’s the one.”

  He sat back. “But?”

  “I did love you. And I was attracted to you. That was never the issue. You know the truth deep down—you would’ve always been second best, Corbin. Always. The only person I love more than you is Manning. My feelings for him are immoveable—I know it in my gut. Nobody will ever replace him.”

  He searched my eyes with his endless blue ones. They were rarely sad like now, and I couldn’t help noticing how beautiful they were despite that. Or maybe because of it. “Back then, I would’ve been fine with second best.”

  “I love you too much to do that to you. You need a girl who looks at you, and … you’re her world, Corbin.” Her universe, her sky, her stars. Her Ursa Major. “She wasn’t me.”

  He scrubbed his hands through his golden hair. “Yeah. I guess now you’re going to tell me you did me a favor rejecting me all those times.”

  I couldn’t help laughing a little. “I’ll save that piece of wisdom for when you meet ‘the one.’”

  “And what about you?” he asked.

  I smiled sadly. “I already met him.”

  “Your sister’s been divorced for like, over three years or something.” He picked up his cup from the table. “Have you seen him?”

  I lifted my hair off my neck, warm under the patio light. “No,” I said, mustering as much nonchalance as I could. “It’s dumb. I thought, back then, you know, that Manning was … that we were …” Destined. I couldn’t even get through the sentence without my throat thickening. What was wrong with me? It’d been years and years of heartbreak and bad timing. How many times did the univer
se have to tell us this wasn’t right? “And I don’t know anymore. I don’t know if he and I were ever …”

  “Ah, fuck,” Corbin said, wrinkling his eyebrows. I must’ve looked about to burst into tears, because he started to fidget. “This might be out of my league. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  I inhaled back the urge, shaking my head. “You didn’t.”

  “It’s not dumb, Lake.” He put his ankle over his knee, resting his drink on his sneaker. “But would you take some advice from a reformed love-sick puppy?”

  I failed to suppress a smile. “Sure.”

  “Move on. I know it sounds obvious, but if you’re still pining for him years later, you’re not going to magically get over it. No matter how much you accomplish, a small part of you is holding back, don’t you think?”

  I thought of what Corbin had said earlier this year about losing some of my fire after graduation. It was only now becoming clear to me that instead of accessing my pain over Manning as my professor had coached me to do, I’d buried it, and that’d hurt my ability to tune into my emotions. Maybe reality TV really was the best I could do, because Manning hadn’t just taken part of me with him when he’d left New York—he’d changed my DNA. He’d changed the dynamic of the city for me. His destruction had seeped into my career, my home, my heart, and even my innocence he’d been so hell-bent on preserving. I’d had to take the morning-after pill the same day he’d left. Flushing myself of him was a distinct kind of heartache I’d never forget.

  “It’s like you’re waiting for him until you can be happy,” Corbin said. “But what’re you waiting for? It’s been years. Get closure if you need to, but then move yourself on.”

  Move on. My hope for Manning and me had been holding strong for a decade, through the worst of it. What about his hope? Had he ever had it? If he hadn’t come for me by now, then maybe not. “I don’t think I wanted to get over him,” I said. “I really thought one day …”

  “I know the feeling. It’s like—how could it not happen? But for most of us, it doesn’t.” He sipped his drink, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I don’t believe he’s the only person who can make you happy. You can fall in love with someone else if you’re willing to try.”