Something in the Way (Something in the Way #1)(63)

“I practiced a lot last year.” I shrugged. “This was my first bullseye, though.”

“Wish I’d seen it.”

It was a pretty cool thing on its own, but knowing Manning thought so, too, made me proud.

We walked a little longer in silence, me sneaking glances at him. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed a paperback in his pocket. “Are you still reading that same book as before?”

“Nah. I grabbed something new from the cafeteria. You see they have a book exchange?”

“Yes, but I haven’t had time to read at all.”

“Started your dad’s list yet?”

I’d imagined him asking me this a few times since my last visit to the library. I wasn’t sure I’d be brave enough to say what I wanted, but it helped that he couldn’t see me blushing. “Not yet. I decided to take your advice and check out a book not on the list. One about something that . . . interested me.”

“Oh yeah? Which one?”

Despite the cool mountain air, my body warmed, because once I said what I’d chosen, it’d be obvious why. “Lolita.”

Manning didn’t respond.

My heart beat in my throat, getting louder as the silence stretched between us. “You know of it?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s about—”

“I know what it’s about. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

I could almost understand why Manning shut down so many of our conversations when people were around, but we were alone now, away from everyone. I kicked a rock. Manning must’ve thought I tripped, because he reached out to take my arm. “What a surprise,” I said, pulling away. “Something you don’t want to talk about.”

I felt his eyes on me, but I refused to look up. “I talk to you about a lot of things, Lake. More than anyone else.”

“Liar.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” I muttered.

“You called me a liar,” he said. “You can’t say that’s nothing.” He waited, for what I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t going to apologize, because it was true. “I’m seeing a new side of you lately,” he said.

“How was your date with Tiffany?”

“Ah. That’s what this is about?”

“No. It’s just a question.”

“Date was good, thanks for asking.”

“Did you kiss?” It wasn’t my business, and I hadn’t planned to ask because I wasn’t sure what good it would do to know. But I had to. I wanted to hear it from him, not Tiffany, who exaggerated when it came to these things. At least, I was pretty sure she did.

“I told you yesterday,” he said, “that’s between your sister and me.”

I wiped my clammy palms on my jeans. I was nervous he’d admit they’d kissed. I was nervous he wouldn’t, leaving me to fill in the blanks. “So that’s a yes. You kissed. Maybe you did other stuff, too.”

“Lake,” he warned, an edge to his voice.

“I know you told Tiffany about your sister,” I blurted. “Why not me? She doesn’t even care. I do.”

He inhaled a loud breath. “That was private.”

“Sisters tell each other everything.”

“Do you talk to her about me? Does she know you and I spend time together like this?”

I closed my mouth, scolded. Of course I hadn’t told Tiffany about us. She’d just ruin it by calling me childish or teasing me for having a crush. He’d made his point. “No.”

“Good, and don’t,” he said. “That’d put an end to our friendship.”

I looked up at him, panic tightening my chest. “You’d end our friendship if I told Tiffany?”

“Not me, no.”

Somehow, I knew instinctively who he meant. Everyone who wasn’t us. “You’re not closer to Tiffany than you are to me.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do. You can’t be. It’s not possible.”

“Tiffany and I are friends in a different way than you and me, Lake. Our friendship—it progresses differently. It means something else.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Why not?” He waited, but I didn’t respond. “Would you rather I broke up with her?”

I opened my mouth to scream yes! But did I want that? Tiffany wouldn’t care too much—this was way more important to me than it was to her. That made it fair. “Would you?”

“Your sister’s more than meets the eye, but I think you know that. Maybe people don’t give her enough credit.”

I had thought the same thing more and more lately. As I got older, I began to wonder if Tiffany was as aimless and flighty as Dad made her out to be, or if she was that way because my parents didn’t understand how to push her. “I guess.” If Manning could see that, then he was getting to know a different Tiffany than most people. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Are you saying you like her?”

He scratched behind his neck and responded slowly, as if choosing his words. “I like Tiffany for a lot of reasons. But maybe there’s one thing about her that brings it all together. Like glue.”