Something in the Way (Something in the Way #1)(11)

“Do you have their CD?” I asked.

“I might have a tape I took from this guy I used to see. He was into them.”

“Will you play it for me?”

“What am I, your servant?” she asked but smiled. “Maybe later. Where’d you hear about them?”

She must not’ve noticed Manning’s shirt after all. “At school.”

“Of course. I hate when good stuff goes mainstream, you know?”

I didn’t know. “Are they new?”

“No. Even Mom and Dad know Pink Floyd. But when high school kids start talking about it, then it’s really not cool.”

I guess Tiffany had forgotten she only graduated high school a year ago.

She sniffled, staring up at the ceiling.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Why?”

“Because of what Dad said.”

“Oh. Yeah. He can be such an asshole.”

I put the CD down and went to sit on the edge of her bed. “He just has a bad way of showing he cares.”

“Whatever,” Tiffany muttered. “Honestly, it could be worse. I could be you.”

“Me?” I asked. “What’s that mean?”

“At least he mostly leaves me alone.” That was true. Dad and Tiffany fought, but he’d stopped trying to get her to do most things. She no longer came home by curfew or pretended she didn’t drink or paid for her own gas—that had lasted less than a month. “But you,” she continued, “he’ll be on your case nonstop for at least six more years, all the way through college. It’s only going to get worse as you start applying to schools.”

I didn’t think of it like that. I was lucky to have someone who cared as much as I did, more even, about getting me in to the school of my dreams. “Maybe once I get in to USC, he’ll back off both of us,” I said.

“Have you thought about any other schools?”

Her hair looked soft, fanned out over the comforter. I ran my fingers through it. “Not really.”

“Maybe you should just to be sure. There are a lot more options than ’SC.”

I shook my head. “It’s always been my first choice.”

“I know.” She looked away. “As long as it’s what you want, and you’re not doing it just for Dad.”

She sounded concerned, and that didn’t happen a lot. But she’d grown up in the room next to mine; she knew I had a drawer full of USC merchandise and that Dad and I had toured the campus once a year since I was ten. “It is.”

She turned back to me. “By the way, Manning’s coming to the fair with us.”

My fingers stilled in her hair. “What?”

“He’s so serious. I was hoping he’d ask me out, but when he didn’t, I told him about Saturday and he’s never been to Balboa Island. Can you believe it?”

I needed to blink or swallow. I just stared at her with a dry mouth. An evening with Manning excited me, but were they going on a date? No. He hadn’t asked her, and brave as Tiffany was, she didn’t want to seem desperate. That’s what she’d said earlier about making the first move, anyway. “What about Brad?”

“Who?”

“The guy you were hoping would call.”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “I talked to him this afternoon. I’m not sure how I feel about him.”

I didn’t ask if that had anything to do with Manning, afraid she’d say yes. How would I respond to that?

She sat up. “Isn’t Manning gorgeous? I should hang around you more often. You’re good luck.”

My neck and cheeks flushed. I loved my sister—she probably knew me as well as my mom. Regardless, hearing her call Manning gorgeous made my ears hot. I’d thought he was handsome before she’d even met him. Didn’t that count for something? Just because I didn’t fawn all over him didn’t mean it was okay for her to.

“I can’t believe he’s from Los Angeles,” Tiffany said. “It sounds so glamorous.”

“Pasadena’s outside of L.A.”

“Guys my age just don’t get me, you know? It’s bad when you have more experience than a guy.”

“What do you mean?”

Tiffany smiled a little, watching me. “Sex.”

My face got even hotter. I didn’t know what to say. Last year, I’d aced an AP English test most of my classmates had flunked. I could recite Pi to the fifteenth digit. I’d made Principal’s Honor Roll the last two years. But on this topic, I knew hardly anything. I didn’t hang around with any girls who’d had sex yet. They weren’t in my classes. They didn’t belong to the clubs I did. They were like Tiffany. “I don’t want to know,” I said. “I’m not interested.”

“You will be soon.” She grinned as she looked over my face, which was surely red. I could never hide my blushing. “I started that stuff around the time I was your age.”

A knot formed in my throat. What did that mean—“stuff”? I mean, I knew the logistics of it. At least, I thought I did. I tried not to think about it, though . . . sex. Girls like me worried about different things.

“Manning just looks like he knows what he’s doing,” she added wistfully.