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Something in the Way(4)

By:Jessica Hawkins


I'd spent my life hearing how beautiful my sister and mother were and  had been told I looked like them enough times to believe I might also be  attractive. Some day. What I didn't have usually didn't bother me.  Things like lipstick and hairspray and shopping had always seemed stupid  compared to books and grades and college applications. Watching  Manning's face as Tiffany approached, I began to wonder if that was  true. I'd never doubted my own attractiveness more.

"Sorry I was late," she said to me as she looked Manning over. "I went by the school."

"I walked."

She stopped in front of us, shielded her eyes, and put a hand on her hip. "What are you doing out here?"

I shrugged casually, but inside, fervently prayed she wouldn't send me home. "He found my bracelet."

"I didn't know you lost it." Tiffany glanced from my wrist to the cigarette in Manning's hand. "You're smoking?"

I shifted on the brick wall. "No. Of course not."                       
       
           



       

"You can tell me. I smoked sometimes at your age. It's normal."

"She wasn't," Manning said, his voice smooth. Deep. "And smoking at her age isn't normal."

Tiffany wrinkled her nose. "It was for me and my friends. I'm Tiffany, by the way."

"Manning."

The three of us went quiet.

"Where were you?" I asked.

She squinted against the sun behind us. It was obviously hurting her  eyes. "The mall. Nordstrom's Anniversary Sale is next month, so I was  making a list of what I'm going to get. As Daddy says, it's good to be  prepared." She glanced between the two of us. "I'm sorry if she was  bothering you. She's not supposed to be out here."

My hairline prickled. Being made to sound like a child might be worse than getting sent back inside.

Manning shook his head fractionally. "She wasn't bothering me."

It didn't sound convincing. My stomach clenched at the realization that  maybe I was annoying him, and he'd just been too polite to say anything.  My butt began to ache from the wall, but I stayed put. Tiffany was  about to pull the plug on my afternoon, and I wanted to soak this up.  The sun on my back. The sweat and dirt. Manning. I hadn't realized until  now how little I'd been outside this summer because of studying.

"You work out here?" Tiffany asked. "One of your crew whistled at me yesterday."

"I saw," Manning said. "Did you hit it off?"

"With him? God, no. He's not my type."

Manning nodded. "Then it won't happen again. The catcalling."

"Oh. It was no big deal." She shrugged, running a light fingertip along her collarbone. "Manning. That's a cool name."

"I had no say in it."

She laughed. "What about you, Manning? You have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"You live around here?"

"Not that close."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

My gaze had been bouncing back and forth between them, and I did a  double take. He wasn't even close to Tiffany's age. He might even be too  old for her.

"Want to come inside for a beer?" Tiffany asked.

We weren't allowed to drink our parents' alcohol. It should've gone  without mentioning since Tiffany wouldn't be twenty-one for two more  years, but it had been said, more than once, since Tiffany had stolen  from their stash before.

I didn't know what would be a worse offense in my parents' eyes-drinking  their alcohol or inviting one of the workers into their home. I would  be sworn to secrecy afterward. I didn't like lying to my parents, but  sometimes, a teenage girl like my sister could be more menacing than  anyone.

"I'm working," Manning answered.

Tiffany closed one eye against the sun and smiled. "Doesn't look like it."

"Lunch break."

I looked up at him. "But you have no food."

"I'm on a diet."

Tiffany laughed. I drew my brows together. Was that a joke? He didn't  seem like the funny type but it was even less likely he'd go on a diet. I  forced a chuckle as well.

"Come inside," Tiffany said. "Lake'll make you a sandwich. She makes the best ones."

"Sorry," he said. His eyes stayed on me. "I don't think your parents would like it."

I must've stared at him like I was seeing the sun for the first time,  but I didn't know how to help that. I knew he shouldn't come in. I  wanted him to. If he didn't, either Tiffany would leave and make me go  with her or she'd want to be alone with him.

"I'll make you a sandwich," I blurted.

Manning looked over my head. "I can't."

"Okay, fine." Tiffany turned to nod at me. "Don't you have homework or something? Get lost."

Manning's dark eyes narrowed on Tiffany. "You talk to your sister that way?"

She brushed hair from her neck, visibly reddening. "She knows I'm joking. Don't you, sis?"

I nodded. Tiffany wasn't joking. Her thin smile and rigid back were a  silent warning-go away, or else. It wasn't fair, though. I'd been here  first. "I don't have any more homework. Tomorrow's my last day."

"Oh." Tiffany shifted feet. "I bet Manning would like if you brought him a sandwich then."

I figured Manning probably would like that. I didn't want to go, but  Tiffany would find a way to get what she wanted, and at least this way,  I'd be doing something for Manning, too. "Okay."                       
       
           



       

Manning sighed. He looked down at me and then over at Tiffany. "I'll come in, but I only have twenty minutes."

Tiffany grinned. "Cool."

Manning jumped down from the wall. I started to slide off, too, but he  caught my waist at the last minute. His hands were so large, they nearly  wrapped all the way around me. I got hot and cold all at once, doing  everything in my power not to shiver so I wouldn't give myself away. He  set me on the ground gently, like a porcelain statue on a shelf. "It's  not good for your ankles if you don't know how to jump," he told me.

"But you did it."

He smiled a little. "You always argue with someone who's looking out for you?"

Tiffany pulled on Manning's elbow. "Come on."

I followed them across the lot toward the house, the feel of his hands  on my waist lingering. They were enormous. And hot. They made me hot-my  cheeks, my chest, all the way down, between my legs. This time I did  shiver, just replaying it in my head. Thankfully I was behind them, out  of sight. Tiffany would think I was ridiculous for getting so excited  over being helped off a wall.

Just now, in less than five minutes, she'd gotten more information out  of him than I had all afternoon. It was as if they were speaking a  language I only sort of understood, like when the Brazilian exchange  student in my Spanish class spoke Portuguese to confuse the teacher.

In the entryway, Manning looked around. He seemed even bigger inside. We  had vaulted ceilings, but I was sure if he stretched hard enough and  jumped high enough, he could touch them. He looked as uncomfortable as I  felt. I needed something to do with my hands. I needed to stop staring.

Tiffany called us into the living room where she was hunched over the  mini-refrigerator behind Dad's bar. "We have Corona or Budweiser."

"Should you be drinking when you're working?" I asked.

Manning had tipped his head back to take in my dad's impressive  selection of liquor, but he dropped just his eyes to mine. "No. I'll  take a Coke if you've got it."

"Go make the sandwich, Lake," Tiffany said.

"What kind do you want?" I asked him.

He spread his long fingers over his stomach and for the first time, he grinned. "I'll eat anything you make."

I couldn't help responding with my own smile. "All right. I'll make the Lake Special."

Coined by my dad, the Lake Special consisted of sliced turkey and ham  layered between cheddar and provolone cheese, smothered in mayonnaise  and barbecue sauce, topped with lettuce, tomato, and avocado. For  Manning, I'd add extra meat, since he had a hard job and looked big  enough for two sandwiches.

I pulled ingredients from the fridge, trying unsuccessfully to catch  words from the conversation in the next room. I didn't want Tiffany to  know more about him than I did. What if they talked about something  personal? Got closer, while I was in here fussing with deli meat? Once  everything was laid out in front of me and I could no longer stand the  idea of them alone together, I called out, "It's almost ready."

Manning entered the kitchen and walked around the island where I stood  slicing an avocado. For one brief moment, his heat warmed my back, and  then it was gone. He washed his hands, took a stool on the opposite side  of the island, and nodded approvingly. "That is a monster sandwich."