Something in the Way(41)

I didn't want to be away from the truck another minute. From Lake.





20





Manning





Lake was exactly as I'd left her. Foot up on the seat. Eyes following  me. The way she sat, the leg of her shorts gaped. I wondered if she'd  taken them from Tiffany. I couldn't see anything I shouldn't, but it  made me feel like shit that I even looked.

I stuck the whiskey in the back and the key in the ignition. Lake turned  on the radio. Janet Jackson lasted until the end of the parking lot  before I switched the station to rock. "That's the Way Love Goes" was a  little too breathy for the situation I was in.

"Can we drive a little?" Lake asked.

"We're gonna. It's another twenty minutes back to camp."

"I mean just drive. Without going anywhere."

There was hardly anyone on the street, but because the lot exited by a  stoplight, I had to wait for a break to get across the lane and make a  U-turn.

"Please?" she asked. "It's my last night of freedom."

"Technically, you're not free," I said. "You're working. And supposed to  be asleep." I scratched my chin. I needed a decent shave. I'd started  the week doing the best I could with what I had-a dull razor and cold  water in a communal bathroom. Eventually I'd given up shaving every  morning. It made me think of Lake's legs. I guessed she had hair at all  because she never wore anything that short.

The fucking red light wouldn't change and a few more cars pulled up.  Time was always slow when I needed it to be fast and vice versa.

Lake had only ever been sixteen to me. Slow.

I couldn't get out of this parking lot. Slow.

This rare moment alone with her would end before it began. Fast.

What was another few minutes when our time was up anyway? I could tell  the counselors I'd had car trouble or something. I didn't care.

I gave up trying to cross the lane, reversed, and found another exit to a  back street. It turned into a narrow alley, but with a few maneuvers,  we got to a residential street.

Lake didn't make any comment about getting her way. She just used the  truck's manual lever to roll down her window and shifted away from me. I  turned up the music.

Lake looked over. "This is Pink Floyd."

I raised my eyebrows, impressed. "Thought you didn't know them."

"I do now. I bought some of their CDs from Tower Records," she said. "I  like their album covers. Dark Side of the Moon. It's a good name."

Well, that was something. I'd introduced her to one of the greatest  bands of all time, to "Wish You Were Here," one of the greatest songs of  all time, and that could never be bad.

We didn't talk for a while. I put down my window, too, to cool down. The  neighborhood was dark, not a streetlamp on any corner. Every few houses  or so had a light on but that was it. It was a nice place. Fancy,  two-story homes. Bright white garages, custom mailboxes, and neat, green  lawns. I wondered what it'd be like to live here and be home. I felt a  little bad taking this growler around so late, so I slowed down and shut  off the headlights. My vision acclimated quickly, and it made it even  more peaceful.

Lake had her window all the way down now. She stuck her head and part of  her torso outside. Her long, blonde hair flew around her, and she had  to push it out of her face. "You can see all the stars here, too," she  said. "I'm looking for the Summer Triangle."

I smiled to myself and checked through the windshield. I couldn't see  it, or maybe I didn't want to take my eyes off her long enough to find  it. Carefree as she looked right now, the outfit and her confidence  tonight reminded me that what Tiffany said was true. Lake wasn't a  child. She'd be eighteen soon. Didn't mean anything for me, really. I'd  never be the kind of man she deserved. But it did get my heart pounding a  little, thinking of her body the way I thought of her mind-something  belonging to a young adult rather than a teen girl.                       
       
           



       

We drove around that way for a while, miles under the speed limit. I  told her we were going slow because I liked driving without the lights  on, but the truth was, I wanted a few more minutes with her. No sneaking  around. No checking over my shoulder. Finally, just her and me, not  doing anything wrong, just being.

Eventually, the residential maze spit us out on to a main street, and I  had to switch the headlights on again. Lake sat back in her seat, rolled  up her window partway, and got the kind of quiet that made me wonder if  she was upset.

I shifted gears on our way up the hill back to camp and looked over to  check on her. Whatever had changed her mood, I suspected there wasn't  anything I could really say to comfort her.

Lake gasped. I whipped my gaze back to the road as something darted in  front of the car. Hitting the brakes, I reached for Lake, keeping her in  her seat as I swerved to miss the animal. The truck shuddered, too much  bulk to stop so fast, but I steered it off the highway.

"What was that?" she asked, sounding breathless.

I looked over at her. My hand was on her shoulder. "You all right?"

"I'm fine. It looked like a dog."

"Coyote. Must've been."

We sat there a moment, catching our breath. What the fuck was I doing  out here anyway? What if we'd gotten into an accident and I'd had to  explain why I had a sixteen-year-old girl and two pints in a truck that  didn't belong to me.

"That was a rush," she said.

"A rush? No. No, it wasn't." I went to pull away, but she stopped me,  spreading her fingers over the top of my hand. Hers was shades whiter  than mine and probably half the size.

"Do we have to go back?" she asked.

The more I tried to ignore her soft palm on my skin, the harder it got. I  needed to take my hand off. It wasn't as if she could hold me there  against my will. "We've been gone long enough," I said.

"But I don't want to."

"I know you don't. That's why we went for a drive. But this-you're not  supposed to be out here, and it isn't even about camp. Just in general,  you shouldn't be here, now."

I only heard her breathing. She took her hand off, and so did I.

"Nobody even knows I'm gone." She unclicked her seatbelt. "Come on. I see water."

"Lake, no."

With what must've been a sudden burst of strength, she shouldered her door open and hopped out of the truck.

"Come on, Lake. Get back in."

"I just want to see. Maybe put my toes in."

Fuck. Barefoot, she headed into the dark. I fumbled with my seatbelt,  barely remembering to shut off the engine before jumping out. "Lake?"

The trees were thick around the highway, and my voice echoed into the  woods. I couldn't see shit. I strode down a soft-dirt hill, which opened  up to a sprawling body of black water. The moon was just a sliver  rippling over the lake. When I saw her near the shore, I exhaled a  breath I'd been holding. She stripped off her shorts. My gut smarted, a  warning. No way she'd get in there. You couldn't see your own foot in  that lake.

With her back to me, in white panties and a t-shirt, she waded in like a water nymph, glowing against a black backdrop.

"Come on, Lake." My heart pounded. I'd warned her about the water. "I'm not messing around. You don't know what's in there."

"Fish?" She smiled at me over her shoulder. My gaze, the water, her  hair, it all moved with her as she glided deeper. When the waterline  touched her hips, she pulled one arm through a sleeve and then the  other.

I stood paralyzed as she took off her top. It was clumsy, drawn out,  long enough for me to tell her to stop. She threw it a few yards from my  feet. I went and picked it up, a scrap of fabric that'd been a  necessary barrier between us. She had this white, strappy bra thing on  and, thankfully, enough long blonde hair to hide her breasts, not that  there was much to cover.

I couldn't look away. I couldn't move.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to decide what to do. I had a lot  of self-control, but I didn't want to test it by taking off my pants. It  wouldn't look good to show up back at camp in wet jeans, either.

Lake kept going. Her hair started to disappear under the surface, pieces  of it plastering to her back. The memory scraped across my brain like  nails on a chalkboard. Maddy-limp, soaked, sheet-white-her wet hair  sticking to my forearms and knees as I'd pulled her from the water into  my lap.

I tried to call Lake back. The words came out strangled. I took off my  shoes and socks. Tossing her shirt with her shorts, I walked right in.  The cold water bit, but she couldn't get any farther from my reach.                       
       
           



       

She skimmed her forearms back and forth over the surface as she blinked  up at the sky, a small smile on her lips. "Show it to me again. Summer  Triangle."