Something in the Way (Something in the Way #1)(46)

“Big Bear,” I said.

He laughed. “But you’ll already be there.”

So will you. I wasn’t brave enough to say it. Instead I asked, “What was Tiffany’s answer?”

“I didn’t ask her.”

A thrill ran up my spine. This was mine. “I have to think about it.”

“That’s fine.” He turned to me, giving me his full attention. “We have time. I want to know.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I care,” he said. “I care very much.”





14





Lake





Something about a dining hall full of humans under fourteen amplified everything. Counselors shouted over kids excited to be away from home for a week. Trays banged against tables, silverware against plastic dishes. The camp’s kitchen staff hurried kids down the buffet line. Cooked hamburger meat battled with body odor—I was glad not to eat near the boys.

Cabin nine sat in the middle of the hall with Manning in the center of the picnic-style table. The boys laughed at what he said, looked up at him between bites of sloppy joes, showed him stuff from their pockets.

Peals of giggles at my own table brought my attention back to where it should be. Hannah sat at the opposite end of a long wooden table, eight nine-year-old girls between us. “What’s so funny?” I asked.

“Bettina likes Bobby Newman.”

In the four hours we’d been here, it wasn’t the first boy-talk I’d heard. “Which one’s Bobby Newman?”

They all pointed at Manning’s table and Bettina turned a bright shade of red. Luckily for her, the only “boy” who noticed was Manning. He sucked his teeth, holding back a grin, as if he knew exactly what we were talking about. Bettina’s secret crush. Mine, too.

“What activity are you girls most looking forward to?” Hannah asked.

Reluctantly, I pulled my gaze away from Manning’s. Was it fair to feel as if I knew him well enough to say he was happy? I hadn’t seen him so relaxed, so quick to laugh and smile, as I had since we’d gotten to the parking lot this morning.

“Horses,” one of the girls screamed.

I was the only one at the table who didn’t agree. Climbing on a large, unpredictable animal sounded no safer than riding a hunk of unreliable metal into the sky. It was the only activity I’d sit out. Like last year, I planned to wait at the stable while Hannah and the instructors took the girls.

“We have arts and crafts next,” I said.

Some of the girls groaned, some tittered. Katie tugged on my sleeve. “Can we make friendship bracelets?”

“Of course.” We still had an afternoon full of things to do, so I did a drink check. “Did everyone have at least one full glass of water?”

“Yes,” they all replied.

Hannah and I exchanged a look. We’d only gone through one pitcher between thirteen of us. I stood. “I’ll get more.”

As I waited for a refill from the kitchen staff, Manning came up next to me and set his tray on the buffet. He held his plate out to Bucky, who was packing up the chafing dishes. “Fill her up.”

Bucky was a local I recognized from last year. He scrunched his mouth so hard, it almost touched his eyebrows. “No seconds.”

“Come on, man. You got plenty left and I’m a growing boy.”

He’d just served food to over a hundred kids, but it didn’t matter. He always looked that grumpy. “Please, Bucky?” I asked.

He snatched the plate and began shoveling food onto it.

“Do you always get seconds?” I asked.

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I wouldn’t quit weightlifting just yet if I were you.”

Manning laughed. “I’d ask if you want me to get you seconds, too, but it sounds like you can handle yourself.”

I’d eaten everything off my plate but I wasn’t satisfied. “There’s dessert,” I said.

“Yeah? You want some?”

“I’m always hungrier up here.”

He took his plate back from Bucky and I got the water pitcher. Manning walked me over to the dessert section, picked out two chocolate puddings, and handed me one. “Are you having fun?” he asked on our way back to our tables.

“Yes, but I knew I would. Are you?”

“I am,” he said. “A lot, actually. All the outdoor activities remind me of being a kid again. The boys’ enthusiasm is infectious, and it’s been a while since . . . I mean, they stink like hell, but they keep me on my toes.”

I giggled. Manning’s boys were nine, too. Same as last year, some of them hadn’t discovered deodorant yet. “Do we have anything together today?” I asked since the same age groups were often paired for activities. “Just asking in case I should bring a face mask.”

“I don’t know.” He nudged my arm with his elbow before stopping at his table. “Guess we’ll see.”

I went to turn away but stopped. I lowered my voice. “After lights-out, most of the counselors come back to the dining hall to hang out and play games and stuff.”

“I heard.”

“Will you come?” I asked.

He looked over my head a second. “Maybe.”