Something in the Way(18)

"That's what I've been saying," Tiffany chimed in.

"Don't be fooled. USC looks as closely at summer vacation as they do the school year. They don't accept slacking off."

I'd heard the same speech every year since I'd entered middle school.  Once it was clear Tiffany didn't have a shot at USC, my parents had  turned all their attention on me. "I know."

"You want to go to USC?" Manning asked.

"University of Southern California," Dad said.

"I've heard of it." Manning was beginning to look irritated. "Private university in L.A., rival of UCLA."

"We're hoping to get her started in a pre-college program next year," Mom said.                       
       
           



       

"Already?" Manning asked.

Mom nodded. "These things start early. Years before college application.  And Lake wants this, so we'll do whatever we can to get her there."

Manning shifted his eyes to me. "Why USC?"

"It's where I went," Dad said.

I sensed by the fact that Manning ignored him that he was looking for an  answer from me. Throughout my childhood, I remembered my dad happiest  when relaying his years at USC, as if it were some kind of adult  Disneyland. I hadn't ever considered anywhere else yet. One of the best  schools in the country was practically in our backyard.

"USC has all kinds of great programs," I said.

Dad nodded, picking up his wineglass. "It's a top-tier school."

I smiled at Dad. I never felt closer to him than when we were on this  subject. "They have a football team, a beautiful campus, and a great  reputation." I wanted to make my dad proud. To call myself a Trojan with  the same pride he did. "And, yes, my dad's an alumnus. I can't really  think of a reason not to go there."

I looked back at Manning, and my world slowed. He wasn't listening. He watched Tiffany push food around her plate.

"Did you ever think about USC?" Manning asked her. She didn't even realize he was talking to her. "Tiff?"

"What?" She looked up and blinked. "Did I want to go there? Me?"

"Why not?"

"It takes hard work, dedication, and planning to get in to a top  university," Dad said. "Tiffany spent her time in school doing god knows  what, but it wasn't any of those."

"I knew a kid who started at community college and transferred to  Berkeley," Manning said. "Tiffany could do that if she wanted."

"That's what Charles did," Mom said, raising her glass to Dad. "He  couldn't afford private but he worked his way up through community  college."

Tiffany crossed her arms, sitting back in her chair. "Believe me, I  don't want to go to that dumb school. It's like a fucking cult."

Dad pointed his fork at her. "Watch your language. You'd be lucky to be  at that school rather than wasting your time here watching TV and  spending my money."

"That's not what I do all day." She glanced nervously at Manning. "I'm  looking at schools. I just don't know where I want to go or what to  major in yet."

"Business," Dad said. "Can't go wrong with that. Once you get your  degree, maybe you could manage a clothing store. Since you love to  shop."

She straightened her shoulders. "Maybe I'll open my own clothing store."

"Run your own business? Do you have any idea what that takes? Discipline. Hard work. Start-up capital. That's just the basics."

I could see where this conversation was going, and even though I didn't  always agree with my sister, I didn't want to see her embarrassed. "How  about a fashion designer?" I suggested. Managing people wouldn't be good  for her. She was more creative than us and did better without confines  or rules. That was how I'd heard Mom defend her to my dad, anyway.  "You'd be good at that."

She ignored me. "You act like my life is over just because I don't know  what I want to do," she said to Dad. "I could be a lot worse off right  now, you know. I ran into Regina Lee at the mall today."

He frowned. "Who?"

"That girl in my class who got pregnant."

I remembered the name. The story of her relationship with a math teacher  had been all over the news. Things like that didn't happen at our  school. It was when I'd learned the term statutory rape.

"The worst I did in high school was get bad grades and maybe have a  little too much fun," Tiffany said. "Regina has a baby. She was crying  to me about how she's raising it alone."

"What'd she think was going to happen?" Dad asked. "She'd ride off into  the sunset with a pedophile? How much time did he get? Three years?"

"I think so," Mom said. "Statutory rape."

"Goddamn ridiculous. They went too easy on him. I would've charged him with real rape."

"They were in love," Tiffany said.

"I don't care." Dad stabbed a piece of steak with his fork. "I have  plenty of friends in the legal system. If that'd been Tiffany, that  scumbag'd be away so long, he'd come back a different person."

"Oh, my," Mom said, glancing at Manning. "How'd we get on this subject?"  She refilled Dad's wineglass. She knew when and how to steer the  conversation, especially when Dad and Tiffany were at each other's  throats. "You know, Lake's off to camp soon. Are you looking forward to  it, honey?"                       
       
           



       

I was about to say yes. As a kid, I'd had fun, but I'd enjoyed last year  even more as a junior counselor. Young Cubs was a week-long sleepaway  camp in the woods with outdoor activities and nightly campfires. But a  new thought occurred to me. What would happen with Manning when summer  ended? I wouldn't be able to find him at the lot during the day. It  wasn't as if I could get in a car and go see him, and that wasn't just  because I didn't have my license. Summer ended in just over four weeks.  If I spent one of those away at camp, that only left me three with  Manning. "Do I have to go?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" Mom asked. "You had a great time last year."

"But yes, you have to," Dad said. "It looks good on your application."

Tiffany rolled her eyes. "Does everything have to be about college?"

Dad looked at her, then Mom. "Your daughter has more attitude than an entire sorority house." He chuckled.

Tiffany scoffed, but she was smiling. "And whose fault is that?" she asked. "It's genetics."

Dad, finishing his second glass of wine, muttered, "Attitude is not  genetic. There-put that on a sticker and slap it on your bumper."  Everyone but Manning laughed. Tiffany had stickers plastered on her  school supplies, her desk, her walls, and even a couple on her car. They  ranged from a pink, glittery one that read "Warning: I Have an Attitude  and I Know How to Use it" to a black, round one with a red "A"  scratched in the center. I'd asked why she had an anarchy sticker, and  she'd given me a funny look and told me it was "punk, duh." Dad said it  was to piss him off.

Manning had already cleared his plate and was going for seconds. "What's this camp thing about?"

"It's in Big Bear," I said.

He nodded his approval. "Love it up there."

"It's for kids," Tiffany added. "I would die of boredom."

"I'll be a junior counselor," I said, "which means I'm going to be  paired with an adult counselor and we'll be in charge of a cabin for the  week. We sleep there at night and do activities during the day."

"Like what?" Manning asked.

Everybody waited. For once, nobody was talking over me. I sat up a  little. "All kinds of stuff. Archery, horseback riding, canoeing, arts  and crafts, fishing. We spend practically the whole week outdoors."

Manning listened with his whole body, his eyebrows drawn. It almost  looked as if he wanted to go to camp himself. "I haven't been fishing  since I was a kid. You get paid for this?"

"I volunteer. It's just for my college apps. But the real counselors get paid."

"Are you interested?" Mom asked him.

Manning pulled back. "Am I?"

"Do you honestly think he wants to spend a week of his summer with a bunch of children?" Tiffany asked.

"Believe it or not," Manning said, "I like kids."

My heart nearly burst out of my chest at the idea of it. Manning. At camp. For a whole week. With me.

"What about your job?" Tiffany asked uneasily. She must've been thinking  the same thing, except that she'd be spending a week away from him.

"We're breaking soon for a few weeks while we wait on some permits,"  Manning said. "I don't have anything solid lined up. I'm actually  looking for work."