Something in the Way (Something in the Way #1)(44)

“Should we talk about how we’re going to do this?” Hannah asked.

“It’s kind of hard to plan for.” I leaned a little more into the aisle. Tiffany was listing her favorite music videos while Manning stared straight ahead. “Once we get there,” I said, “it’ll fall into place.”

“But it’s my first year,” Hannah said. “I don’t want to screw it up.”

She’d soon discover the resilience of kids—and counselors. “You’ll do fine.”

“I graduated with your sister, you know,” she said. “She doesn’t know me.”

I looked over at her. “She’s self-involved.”

Hannah laughed. “She can probably hear you.”

“Probably. But she won’t.” We exchanged a mischievous smile.

“Is that her boyfriend?” Hannah asked. “He’s so fine.”

“No.” I sounded defensive so I added, “I’m not really sure. Maybe for the moment.”

Tiffany stood and looked around the bus before her eyes lasered in on something behind us. “There are two kids with seats to themselves. Shouldn’t counselors get that?”

“I don’t think they planned it that way,” I said.

“I’m exhausted. I need to sleep before we get there.” She went down the aisle to a boy with headphones on. “Hey.” She pointed to the other lone camper. “Go sit with that kid so I can have this seat.”

The boy, eleven or so, didn’t argue. He would’ve argued with me, but Tiffany had boobs and some kind of power over the male species. Apparently, no age group was immune.

“Wake me when we get there,” she said to Manning, who remained facing forward through the whole thing. “Manning. Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.” He winked at Hannah and me. “I’ll do my best, but no promises.”

We giggled. Tiffany must’ve gone to sleep, because she didn’t speak again.

“So about our cabin,” Hannah said. “I think we should be firm with them. Yes, we’re here to have fun, but we’re authority figures first, friends second.”

I watched Manning as he looked out the window. Most riders who weren’t talking to their seatmates had headphones on or played handheld videogames. “Sure,” I murmured.

“I brought some stuff I think the girls’ll love, like makeup and CDs.”

I expected a week of rough-and-tumble sports and exploring, but I knew they’d love girl time as well. “We can sneak a boom box from the rec room,” I said.

“And the campfire skits,” Hannah said. “We have to come up with some ideas. Should we do that now?”

“Better to brainstorm with the girls,” I said absentmindedly and stood. I had no idea what I wanted to do or say. With a sideways glance at Hannah, I said, “I’ll be right back.”

I crossed the aisle to Manning. It took him a moment to turn and look at me, but when he did, he gestured for me to sit. “Hey, Birdy.”

Birdy. I wished I hadn’t been so self-conscious about bringing a stuffed animal to camp, because I already missed it. It made me feel close to him when we were apart. I turned my shoulder into the seatback, angling away from Hannah and the rest of the bus. “Hi.”

“What can I do for you?” he asked lightly.

“Nothing.” I tucked some hair behind my ear. He smelled faintly of cigarette smoke mixed with aftershave. The bus driver turned the music up a little for Aerosmith’s “Crazy.” “What do you think so far?” I asked.

“Lots of things.”

“Good things?”

“Good things.” He glanced at my knees and then away. “Are you cold? You have goosebumps.”

I did, but not because the air conditioning was too high. They were from being close to him, from having a secret nickname, from Steven Tyler’s “C’mere, baby.” I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

He looked back out the window. Our beloved beach had been replaced with desertscape and rundown towns. Soon it’d be mountains, pine trees, curvy roads.

“Do you want to be alone?” I asked.

He didn’t respond right away. He had a hard profile, darkened against the bright window. Always brooding, with his pitch-black hair and heavy eyebrows. Would he tell me what he was thinking about if I got up the courage to ask? I didn’t think so. I’d never met anyone so private, and it only fueled my curiosity.

If he wanted me to go, I figured he was too polite to say so. I went to get up, but he said, “No.”

He had a funny way of acting like he wanted me around since he didn’t look at or speak to me. But I hadn’t been alone with him in weeks, and I had questions—about nothing and everything.

I chose a safe topic. “Are you finished at the house?”

He turned to me. “Not yet. We’re waiting for some permits to come through.”

“Then what?”

“We’ll be there another couple weeks or so.”

Hearing he’d be around a little longer wasn’t much of relief because summer would be over in two weeks anyway—and I had no idea what would happen next. “Then what?” I pressed.

“I graduate in December, and I start training to be a police officer.”