Something in the Way (Something in the Way #1)(77)

“I understand,” I said. “I understand why we can’t be together right now, but I can wait.” I hadn’t planned to say that or anything like it, but I’d been holding everything in too long. I’d watched Manning go off with my sister more than once. I’d fought to keep my hand from wandering over to his while he’d told me this was our story. I’d almost had him tonight, and I’d blown it. “Wait for me, too,” I said.

“Don’t ask that of me.”

“No matter what happens, where you go, where I go, it won’t change the fact—I’ll be eighteen in two years.”

“But you’ll change in two years, Lake. So will I.”

“My feelings won’t.”

“Get out of the car, Lake. I can’t park until you do, and we’ve been sitting here too long.” Manning leaned over and opened the passenger door. “Go straight to your cabin.”

It was the last thing I wanted to hear, but he was right. I stood as best I could. My legs had fallen asleep. As I got myself over the seat, I became uncomfortably aware that I was wet, sticky, and tired. He waited as I crawled out of the car, grabbed my flip-flops, and eased the door shut. “Goodnight.”

He kept his eyes forward. The window was still down, so as I walked away, I only just heard him respond, “’Night, Lake.”

With my bra stuffed in my back pocket, I carried my shoes so I wouldn’t make any noise. I passed Tiffany’s cabin on the way to mine. For a moment, I was tempted to climb into her sleeping bag instead and hold onto her. I’d never felt so grown up and so childish. Tiffany would’ve understood, would’ve told me what to do . . . if only it hadn’t been her boyfriend I’d been sneaking around with.

It’d all happened so fast, like a dream. We probably hadn’t been gone more than two hours. I touched my cheek, where I could still feel the scrape of his stubble. My heart skipped as I remembered stripping off my clothes by the lake, knowing he was watching. And his enormous hands, in my hair, in my shorts. They could take over whole parts of me—the entire back of my head, half my thigh. By the time I reached my cabin, my heart was pounding but no longer out of fear.

Quietly, I set my sandals down and dug into my duffel bag for my pajamas. I changed limb by limb without making any noise. When I opened my sleeping bag, the zipper hissed.

“Lake?” Hannah asked. “That you?”

“I just went to the bathroom,” I whispered. “Don’t wake the girls.”

She inhaled and turned over, toward the wall. Me, I stared at the top bunk for at least another hour, playing the night over and over in my head.

Manning’s restrained but curious fingers, inching closer up my shorts.

His mouth so close I could almost convince myself we’d kissed.

I already felt myself changing. Inside the sleeping bag, I touched my outer thigh. My stomach. My breasts. I was more aware of my body than I’d ever been. Flannel was smooth over the top of my hand. The polyester sleeping bag crinkled. My heart beat steadily in my chest, but if I held still, I felt my pulse all over.

Was it wrong, what we hadn’t even done? Manning would’ve said so, even if he didn’t think it. He couldn’t tell me we’d be together one day, but he had to know the truth.

You can’t move the stars.

Manning and I were inevitable.





22





Lake





I woke up before anyone else, even Hannah, and sat up in bed. My hair had dried but was tangled from my midnight swim. And from Manning’s hands. The memory, only six hours fresh, made my stomach tighten. So this was what all the fuss was about. This was why Tiffany was always flirting with boys. Mouths. Hands. Hardness and softness. Adrenaline. We’d almost gotten caught. We’d almost gone too far. Getting wrapped up in Manning, belonging to him—I didn’t see how it could ever be far enough.

Early morning light made shadows around the cabin, on the sleeping girls. It was our last morning, and I never wanted it to end, but still, I smiled.

“Hey,” Hannah whispered, her eyes puffy as she grinned back at me. “Did you go somewhere last night?”

“No,” I said immediately. “Why?”

“I woke up and you weren’t here. At least, I thought you weren’t.” She laughed. “Maybe I was seeing things. Or not seeing things.”

“I was here. I went to the bathroom, but that’s it.”

She sighed. “It’s so peaceful right now. Do we have to wake them?”

“Only if we want to send them home with what they brought. Gary wants us to start packing before breakfast.” Some of the girls stirred. “Then again, it’s our last day. What’s he going to do? Send us home?”

I threw open my sleeping bag. Hannah sat up, piling her mass of hair on top of her head, watching me move around the cabin. I put on the soundtrack to The Bodyguard and belted out “I’m Every Woman.” Some of the girls giggled. They woke up confused but smiling, the way Hannah and I had.

Hannah got up, too. In just drawstring pants and t-shirts, we ran outside and started shaking our hips. “Are you guys seriously going to make us dance alone?” I called.

Girls crawled from their beds and hurried outside like ants from a hill. Someone turned up the music. Another cabin yelled at us to be quiet, but we went on dancing. It was a beautiful morning, and I was filled up by the memory of last night. Brimming with the possibilities of what was to come. For the first time since Manning and I had met, my feelings felt validated. Maybe Manning couldn’t say how he felt, but it’d been there in his eyes, his touch.