Something in the Way(38)

"That's the big one," he said, moving closer to me. He stenciled out his  own square. "It's part of Ursa Major, which means Great Bear."

I looked over at Manning, a bear of a man. My great bear. "Ursa Major," I repeated.

He shifted his index finger over. "There's the little one. You can tell  by the North Star. My sister used to make the same mistake. Until she  knew more than I did, that is."

I could feel her there, a presence between us, and I understood that the  reason we were here had to do with her. She was part of the side of him  that lived in shadows-a secret, but not just any secret. One that  belonged to Manning, one I wanted to keep for him. "You did this with  her?"

"When our parents fought, I'd take Maddy-" He tripped on her name. As he  recovered, I tried it out in my head. Maddy. "I'd take her out to the  front lawn and make up stories about the constellations. I didn't know  shit, but she started reading books about them." He swallowed. The  emotion in his voice was new for me, and he'd cursed, which he never did  in my presence. "Soon enough," he continued, "she was the one telling  me stories."

"How old was she?"

"Only nine. When she died."

I audibly sucked in air. I wasn't sure what I'd expected him to say, but  nine just sounded so young. It was the age of the girls in my cabin.  I'd been nine seven years ago. Aside from a great aunt, I'd never known  anyone who'd died. I couldn't imagine my life without my sister. My  childhood would've been completely different without Tiffany, especially  if she'd disappeared in the middle of it. Poof. I tried to think of  some way to express my sympathy, to make this moment easier on him. I  couldn't touch him, not that I'd know where or how. I'm sorry for your  loss just felt like the worst thing I could possibly say.

Maybe talking about her life, instead of death, would help. "Will you tell me about the stars?" I asked.

I could feel his hurt from where I stood. I tugged on his arm and sat  right there on the concrete. There was no grass in sight, just this and  the pool. It seemed like a big deal for someone his size to sit on the  ground, but he did. We both lay back, some distance between us.

"I don't remember them all." His voice was hushed. It could've been his  grief, but I was pretty sure he kept his tone low in case anybody passed  by. They wouldn't know we were here unless they heard us. "It's been a  long time since I looked very hard at the sky," he said.

I could feel my elbows and shoulder blades on the concrete. I wanted to  hear about the stars, but I couldn't stop trying to picture her. "What  did she look like?"

"The opposite of you."

"You told me once I remind you of her."                       
       
           



       

"You do. She was smart and kind. Saw the best in people, always. She's the only person who loved me as I am."

Despite the balmy night, I got the chills. Not the only one, I wanted to  say. I love you. But the thought of saying that aloud made my heart  pound and shriveled my tongue. I wondered if I'd ever be able to admit  it. Maybe he knew, though. Maybe that's how he thought I was like her.

I inched my hand along the warm concrete, toward him.

"She had black hair, like me," he said. "Dark eyes. We looked a lot  alike, except you could tell there was a whole universe behind her  eyes."

Manning could be that way. As if he were living in two different worlds,  sometimes only half-present in this one. "How old would she be now?"

"Seventeen. I can't even picture it."

I did the math. "You were fifteen?"

"Yes."

Silence stretched between us. It didn't seem right to ask how it  happened. I wanted him to want me to know, to just tell me. To give me  something he hadn't given anyone else, especially not Tiffany. The  longer we stared up at the sky, the more I realized he wouldn't. And  what did that mean? Did he not trust me?

Eventually, he pointed at the sky again. "There it is. I was trying to find the three stars that make up the Summer Triangle."

I looked for the ones he was talking about. "Where?"

"It's not a constellation, but three stars from other constellations.  That brightest one, it's the bottom. Altair. About a foot apart is Vega.  Through the middle is the Milky Way. You see?"

I still couldn't find them, but he sounded so hopeful, I didn't want to ruin it. "I think so."

"I can't tell it the way Madison did, but it was her favorite story.  There are different versions, but Altair and Vega represent lovers from  different sides of a river-or the Milky Way. They married behind their  parents' backs and her father punished them by keeping them apart."

"With the river?"

"Yes. They were only allowed to be together once a year, the seventh  night of the seventh month. The Japanese have a whole festival in July.  There was no bridge, so, as long as the night was clear and it wasn't  raining, birds would carry Vega across the river to Altair for that one  night."

Of all the stories Manning could've chosen, there must've been a reason  he picked that one to tell me. I'd learned about star-crossed lovers in  English class. Maybe that's where the term came from. People would try  to keep me and Manning apart because of our age difference, but we had  this-the stars, the lovers, the night.

"What about the third star?"

"What?"

"You said it was a triangle."

"Oh." His eyes roamed the sky. "I don't know."

"So the story is about Altair and Vega. It isn't really a triangle at all."

He reached up to make three points. "They're all there, Lake. Can't move the stars."

"But the other one, it has nothing to do with this, right?" He must've  heard the panic in my voice. It was hard to miss. "It's about Altair and  Vega. Just them."

He looked over at me. "Yes. It's about them."

My heart began to pound. Hope lived strongly in me, and I knew with just  those words, the same was true for him. It was a promise. No matter  what, the story would only ever be about us.

I brushed my knuckle against his to acknowledge what I couldn't say. Was  holding hands physical? What would Manning do if I put my skin on his  and asked for what I wanted? If, like Tiffany, I used touch to get it? I  got up on my elbow and looked down at him. My hair fell forward, a  curtain around us.

"Lake," he said-a plea? A warning? I couldn't tell.

I looked at his mouth. I had dreamed of it, the things it couldn't tell  me, of his lips, which couldn't kiss me. We were alone, finally. He had  told me in so many words, one day, we would cross the river to each  other.

I leaned down.

He put a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. "We can't."

He was telling me no. Again. Like everyone else, he thought he knew  better than me. Couldn't he see that wasn't true? That some things were  bigger than right and wrong, bigger than us? Hot tears pierced the backs  of my eyes. "Why not?"

"That's just the way it is." He touched his hand to my cheek, and I leaned into his palm. "This will have to be enough."

I shook my head. "I'm not a child, Manning."

"I know you aren't. But at your age, it can be hard to think past the moment. To consider consequences. The future."                       
       
           



       

"All I do is consider my future."

"And you're going to do and be great things. You'll fly far, Birdy. See  places most of us never will." He moved my hair behind my ear. "I'm  counting on it."

But I didn't want to fly without Manning. I was content to stay here on  the ground with him, learning of the stars, but he sat up, forcing me to  do the same. We got to our feet.

All at once, the dreaminess of the night wore off, leaving the shameful  truth-I'd tried to kiss him, and he'd told me no. Yet he'd gotten  "physical" with Tiffany. What did that mean? Could there possibly be  anything bigger than my love for him, something big enough to swallow  it?

My vision blurred with tears. I still hadn't figured out the Summer  Triangle. There wasn't even a cloud in the sky-I just couldn't find the  stars.

Manning turned away from me and walked back to the fence.

It wasn't fair. I'd seen him first. I'd had him first. But was I losing him?

Was I losing him to Tiffany?





19





Manning





Sunny, dusty days outside passed too fast. Spending a week in fresh air  was exactly what I hadn't known I'd needed. For the first time in years,  I wasn't surrounded by hardened men or straining my body so my mind  wouldn't wander too far down the wrong path. I felt like I was part of  the living. The kids' enthusiasm was exhausting and infectious. Tiffany  had loosened up. Lake made me feel like a man again just for having  someone to look out for.