Something in the Way (Something in the Way #1)(38)

“I’m not leaving.”

“But you said . . .”

“I’ve said it before. I wasn’t serious, and he knows that. He’s not going to kick me out.”

I couldn’t remember any of their arguments ending that way. It was as if Tiffany wanted to see how far she could push him. I looked up at her. “Why didn’t you just tell him you’d stop seeing Manning?”

“Because that’s exactly what he wants. He’s trying to control me and you and Mom.”

“That’s not true,” I said. “He just wants what’s best for all of us.”

“For you and Mom, maybe. Me? He just wants to pretend I never happened. His life would be easier if I weren’t around.”

She said the words so simply, someone else might’ve thought they didn’t affect her. That she didn’t care. I knew she did, though. How could she not? He was her dad. Even after all the fights I’d witnessed, I couldn’t believe she truly thought that. “He loves you,” I said. “Things are just weird right now. When you find a job, he’ll ease up.”

“You don’t know anything, Lake. You’re too young to understand. I’ll never get the kind of job he wants me to. You will. I’m not going to be a doctor or a lawyer or any of those boring things. He can’t stand that he’s worked as hard as he has to give us opportunities just to have me waste mine.”

Tiffany didn’t even try. She’d barely studied, and she’d skipped a lot of classes, especially her senior year. I didn’t know if I was smarter than my sister, but I definitely tried harder. “You could do whatever you want, Tiffany. If you apply yourself—”

“Shut up,” she said without inflection. “You sound like dad. He says that all the time.”

“But that fight could’ve been avoided,” I pointed out. “You said you don’t even like Manning.”

Tiffany blinked up at the ceiling, tilting her head. Her hair tickled my neck, but I just watched her. Her eyes roamed until she finally said, “I thought I didn’t . . . but maybe I do.”

My heart dropped. She couldn’t just change her mind back and forth like that. “Why?” I asked. “Just because it makes Dad mad?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. It just made me rethink the whole thing, like maybe I didn’t give Manning a real chance.”

“That doesn’t seem fair, using Manning to get back at Dad.”

Tiffany tore her eyes from the ceiling to look at me. She pushed me off and we both sat up. I thought she’d kick me out, but instead she looked right at me. “I guarantee Manning has done worse than that to a girl. Men don’t care about women. They use them. The sooner you understand that, the better.”

My stomach churned. Not Manning. He wasn’t that way. When I looked at him, spoke to him, we connected. He’d given me Birdy when I was sad. He’d returned my bracelet. He’d eat anything I made. In my gut, I knew—he was a good person. “I think it’s the other way around,” I said gently. “I’ve seen guys go crazy for you, and you just ignore them.”

Tiffany smiled a little. “That’s how you play the game. The truth is, men think they have power, but they don’t. We do. Like tonight, with Manning. When he wouldn’t do what I wanted, I told him not to call me again and walked away. And you know what he did?”

My heart thumped. I knew. I tried to pretend I didn’t, but I did. I’d seen it with my own eyes.

“He kissed me. He puts on a good show—for a while there, I didn’t think he liked me at all. But he’s just like every other guy.”

I knew in my heart that wasn’t true, and maybe it made me a bad sister, but I didn’t tell her so. I wanted Tiffany to believe Manning was just another guy, because then she’d treat him like one. She’d get what she wanted from him and move on.





12





Lake





Monday afternoon, I was alone in the house for the first time since Manning had come over for dinner. I didn’t have to look out the window to know the crew was working next door—I could hear them.

I went into Tiffany’s room to borrow a pair of shorts. I wasn’t brave enough to take her skimpiest pair, but everything she owned was shorter, tighter, or lower-cut than anything in my closet. I picked some from Tommy Hilfiger and held them up to my waist in the mirror.

Tiffany’d been right the other night about Dad. The morning after their fight, Mom had made bagels and coffee, Dad read his Wall Street Journal, and Tiffany had waltzed into the kitchen like nothing’d happened. She’d even mentioned going out to look for jobs that day and he’d kissed her on the forehead on his way to work.

I put on the shorts. In a tank top and Converse, I grabbed my Young Cubs flyer before heading out the door. The first time I’d met Manning, I didn’t remember being nervous. Now, though, as I walked to the curb, I had butterflies in my stomach and sweat on my hairline.

There was lots going on, but I couldn’t see Manning. I walked through the dirt, passing under scaffolding into the house. A man in goggles glanced at me as I ducked into the frame of the house, but he didn’t stop me.

I found Manning toward the back, his profile to me, arms raised, a drill in his hands and a screw between his teeth. Goggles, a hardhat, and a red bandana around his mouth hid his face, but I would’ve known him anywhere.