Move the Stars (Something in the Way 3)

A lump formed in my throat with the biggest truth of all—without Manning, I didn’t know that I even wanted to try and make a home anywhere else. I thought I could float through cities and decades if I were never anchored to him. Did I even want that anymore? It’d gotten so hard to even think of Manning. Sean and everyone I’d dated since had been easy, and that seemed like the way to go in the future.

“It sounds like you got it all figured out,” I said to Corbin. “I’m jealous.”

“Of me? You’re the one killing it out here. See all the people who showed up to watch your ascent into stardom? And how many of our friends, all those people you worked with who are barely getting by, watched you on TV in New York tonight?”

He always knew how to make me smile in spite of myself. I took his hand and squeezed it. “As long as you and Val aren’t going anywhere, then that’s all I need.”

I realized Tiffany and Sean had stopped talking and were both looking at me. Sean pinched his joint and stood. “Well, I’m in no shape to ride. It’s cool if I stay the night with you, Lakey?”

“Sure,” I said. “We can leave in a bit.”

“Dope.” He winked at me. “I’m going to get another drink.”

When he’d gone inside, the look on Corbin’s face sent me into a fit of giggles. “Did he say Lakey?” Corbin asked.

It took me a minute to catch my breath. I just hoped the nickname didn’t catch on nationwide.

Tiffany fidgeted with her pack of cigarettes as if she wanted to light another. It annoyed me how Manning, and now she, too, couldn’t get a grip on such a life-threatening habit. She shifted in her seat and joked, “Third wheel.”

“Hardly,” Corbin said.

“Why is that, though?” she asked. “How come you two never got together? Or did you and nobody knew?”

“We’re too good of friends,” Corbin said, and I wondered with the swiftness of his answer, how many times he’d given it before.

I was grateful, though—that he’d saved me from having to answer, and that he recognized it was true. What Corbin and I had was special. Maybe if we’d ever slept together or decided to date, we wouldn’t be friends now, and that would be the real tragedy. “I figure there’s some saintly woman out there who deserves him,” I added. “It’s not me.”

“No, I guess not,” Tiffany said. “Not very saintly to sleep with a married man.”

Maybe I deserved that, but my cheeks flamed nonetheless. I hated that she’d said it in front of Corbin. Since he was quick to defend me in any situation, his silence confirmed that he agreed. He still didn’t bring up Manning’s name in any other context than as Tiffany’s ex-husband, but that didn’t mean Corbin was in the dark about anything.

But it was out there now, and once my shame wore off a bit, I was actually a little relieved. I’d lived in this secret world with Manning so long, I was exhausted from hiding our attraction to each other. So, in the interest of honesty, I finally stopped trying to protect everyone. “Did you ever really love Manning?” I asked. “Or did you just marry him to spite me?”

Tiffany’s blue eyes flashed over me before she glanced at the ashtray. She went to pick up her pack again, but I snatched it and threw it in the pool. “Hey,” she said.

“Just stop already. You and—” I stopped myself from saying Manning. “You’re better than those cigarettes. It’s not an emotional crutch—it’s a filthy habit that will kill you.”

“What Lake’s trying to say is that she cares what happens to you.” Corbin gave me a reproachful look. “And she’s right. Smoking like a chimney isn’t going to make anything better.”

Tiffany slumped down in her seat, biting her cuticle. “Fine. You want the truth? Until Manning came along, I had one thing you didn’t—men wanted me. You had the grades and Dad’s attention and USC, but I could flirt the pants off a gay man.” Her gaze darted from me to Corbin and back. “Then when I saw how Manning looked at you, suddenly everything changed. Guys started noticing you, too. Including Corbin, but he’d wanted me first, didn’t you, Corbin?”

Corbin stilled, only his eyes moving as he looked between us. “Oh, I . . . uh.” He shifted in his seat. “Yeah, I guess. When you were dating Cane, you were like the girl. It was hard not to, like, like you.”

He looked so uncomfortable that I brought the conversation back to myself. “I was sixteen,” I said to Tiffany. “I got boobs and grew into my limbs that summer. It wasn’t Manning’s fault.”

“But Manning . . . he was the one thing you wanted,” she said. “It was so painfully obvious you had this little-girl crush on him that first day he came over for a sandwich.”