It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to his big frame a few feet in front of me, shadowed, but undeniably his.
"Haven't you ever seen Friday the 13th?" he asked.
"No."
"Is everyone in your family this stubborn?"
I wanted to make some remark about his family and how he'd betrayed me by telling Tiffany something it would've made more sense to tell me, someone who cared. But if it was true about his sister, a snarky comment didn't seem right. "I'm not trying to be," I said. "I didn't want to stay in there by myself."
"You have your sister. Your friends are in there. You have Hannah."
I don't have you. Before him, I would've loved having Tiffany treat me like a friend instead of a pest. Now, I didn't care to be anywhere Manning wasn't. I glanced at the ground. "Why didn't you come tonight?"
"I'm on patrol. Supposed to be walking the site, checking on cabins."
I exhaled softly, quietly relieved. He hadn't purposely been avoiding me. "Can I walk with you?"
He hesitated. "It's not really a two-person job."
"I'm not ready to go to sleep. Please?"
Silhouetted against the trees, he ran a hand through his hair. "I'll walk you back to your bunk, but we can take the long way."
He passed me, and I turned to follow him in the opposite direction of my cabin. "Did you have a good day?"
"We have to be quiet. Don't want to wake up the kids."
"Did you have a good day?" I whispered.
His sigh ended in a light laugh. "It was hectic. Yours?"
"I got a bullseye during archery."
"Yeah?" He sounded impressed. "None of my boys managed that. Me, neither."
"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."
"What thing?"
"It's not something I can really put into words . . ." He looked over my head and around. "Let's say it's because she makes me laugh. If I break up with her, then I'd miss laughing. You know?"
I frowned. "No. Surely she isn't the only person who makes you laugh."
"But let's say she was. Let's say, me laughing while Tiffany wasn't around would be . . . people wouldn't understand it."
"So you wouldn't laugh at all? Because of what other people thought?"
"Part of me doesn't think it's appropriate to laugh, either, Lake."
Appropriate-I'd heard that word from him before. Laughing wasn't appropriate the way our friendship wasn't. "I think I understand."
"I didn't tell you about my sister because I won't ever lie to you."
"What do you mean?"
He stopped walking when we reached a wooden fence running the perimeter of the camp pool. We weren't really by the cabins anymore, which made me wonder if he'd brought me here on purpose. He looked up, his feet apart, hands in his jean pockets, forearms tense. I could tell he was thinking, his eyes distant, but about what, I wasn't sure. Maybe I'd asked too many questions, and he was about to send me back to my cabin.
"Can you hop it?" he asked.
I realized he wasn't staring into the distance but at the pool. There were only two ways in-the gate on the other side, and through the locker room and showers. Both were locked at the end of each day. I had no idea if I could get over the enclosure, but I said, "Yes."
Leaves crunched under Manning's feet as he surveyed the area. He motioned me over to the fence and picked me up the way he'd hoisted me onto the wall the day we'd met. I straddled it, jumping over the side. Manning followed right after, landing heavily on the concrete deck. He brushed off his jeans. "No trees in here," he said. "It's one of the best places to see the stars."
I couldn't remember the last time I'd looked at the stars, really looked. There were too many to count, a paint-splatter of silver on indigo. At home, I barely noticed them anymore, but as kids, Mom had taught Tiffany and me the constellations. I pointed, drawing in the sky. "Little Dipper."