Something in the Way (Something in the Way #1)(78)

Once we’d worn the girls out, Hannah and I walked them to Reflection. We hit the path to the clearing at the same time as cabin nine. Manning’s hair stuck up in every direction. He had dark circles under eyes, like I probably did. We fell into step beside each other and slowed, lagging behind. “Your hair’s a mess,” he told me.

“I haven’t washed it yet.”

“Aren’t you afraid something’s growing in there?”

I giggled softly. “I wouldn’t mind if it was. A souvenir.”

Manning gave me a look I recognized. He was going to scold me. I mimed zipping my lips shut, and he seemed satisfied.

“Oh, before I forget.” I dug into my pocket. “I made you something in arts and crafts.”

“Me?” he asked.

I showed him a brown, orange, and forest green wax bracelet I’d woven earlier in the week.

He plucked it out of my palm, twisting it between his fingers. “What is it?”

“A friendship bracelet. But I gave it some thought this morning, and . . . I don’t think it should be that for us.”

Manning raised his eyes to mine slowly, looking at me from under his dark, long lashes. “Lake . . .”

“Every time you crave a cigarette, look at the bracelet.”

“And?”

“And think of me. You seem to be really good at not smoking in front me, so just pretend I’m there. You still want to quit, right?”

Manning inspected the bracelet, swallowing. “Nobody ever gives me anything,” he said. “Especially not jewelry.”

“I tried to pick manly colors. They made me think of you.” I smiled. “But you don’t have to wear it. Just keep it in your pocket or something.”

He scratched his jaw. “And when I feel like a smoke, I just pull it out and look at it?”

I nodded. “And think of me.”

He seemed to consider it. “It looks small.”

I stopped walking and took the bracelet. The clasp was adjustable, so I pulled it as wide as it would go. Manning held out his hand, and I put it on him.

As I did, he looked at the bracelets stacked all the way up my wrist. “You have lots of friends.”

“But I only made one bracelet.”

“Where’s the gold one?” he asked.

“I left it at home.” It was funny how these little wax ones could feel as valuable as the expensive one from my dad. “Didn’t want it to fall off.”

Our eyes met. We were close, unlike that first day, when I’d been hesitant to approach the gruff man who’d held my delicate chain coiled in his hand.

I could’ve lingered there all morning, grazing my fingers over his strong, tan forearm. He didn’t exactly make a move to leave, either. But another cabin came into view behind us—Tiffany and her girls. Not only were they on time, but also in a straight line.

I tightened the bracelet on him and took my hand back. Manning shook his head. “After last night, I promised myself I’d never be alone with you again. Yet here we are, not even seven hours later.”

“We’re not alone,” I pointed out. “Everyone’s here.”

“I’ve got something I want you to have, too,” he told me, looking over at Tiffany. “But I’ll give it to you later.”

I smiled. The fact that I had no idea what it could even be made me extra giddy. “Later, then.”

We all found our places in the bleachers and Gary waited at the front. Since it was the last morning, it took a little longer for the kids to settle down. “Good morning,” Gary greeted the group. “You should know the drill by now, campers. Close your eyes. Breathe the morning in. Appreciate your existence. Let’s all say thank you for such a beautiful day.”

“Thank you,” I murmured with everyone else.

“For a fun-filled and active week.”

“Thank you.”

I felt eyes on me, so I opened mine. It was him, finder of bracelets, hoarder of cigarettes, a Pink Floyd beast of a man. For the first time that I knew of, he’d looked over at me during Reflection.

“It’s important to spend time outdoors,” Gary said, “to take advantage of everything Mother Nature has afforded us.”

Manning looked three times the size of anyone around him. He was significantly bigger than Kirk, his teenaged co-counselor. Gary, too, who had a big presence but was actually pretty wiry. Nobody could compare to Manning. He was a bear in the mountains. My great bear. One day he’d be mine; I already felt that he was, I just couldn’t say it. But he knew. I knew.

We held each other’s gazes until Gary cleared his throat. He was watching us, so I closed my eyes again, and he continued. “Sometimes we allow ourselves to be consumed by the television set or get caught up in problems that don’t matter. Sometimes we let friends and family dictate our state of mind. When you wake up tomorrow, even though you’ll be home, continue this practice of being grateful for what you have, and for the gift of the day to come. Be calm. Be grateful.”

“I will be grateful,” we all said in unison.

“This morning, we’ll go around and say what our favorite part of this experience has been. Take a few moments to reflect on the week before you open your eyes.”

Where to start? There were so many moments I wouldn’t trade for the world. Last night, for one. Horseback riding with Manning. And maybe my favorite of all, our time under the stars as he showed me the constellations. But it wasn’t as if I could say any of that.