Something in the Way (Something in the Way 1)

If I was going to get on this thing, I had to distract myself. Already, my stomach felt uneasy. There were a lot of people out tonight, waiting in line for corndogs, getting quarters for the arcade games, spinning postcard stands outside a souvenir shop. “What would you normally be doing tonight?” I asked Manning.

“Some nights I have class. Since it’s the weekend, I’d probably be at a bar.”

“Oh.” College and bars—that was a whole other world to me. “What’s your class for?”

“Criminal justice. I want to be a cop.”

Even though my mouth popped open, I hoped I didn’t look as shocked as I felt. I couldn’t picture him in uniform. “Like a police officer?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He scratched his chin. It might’ve been the first time he didn’t look at me like I was from a different planet. “Why?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. He was mysterious. Rugged. Hard to pin down. To be honest, he seemed more like an outlaw than a peacekeeper. I didn’t want to insult him, though, so I tried to think of something else to say.

“Lake?”

I blinked. The way he said my name brought me back to Earth. I thought I could be on a rocket to the moon and come crashing back in an instant when he called for me. “What?”

“You can tell me what you’re thinking. I don’t have a lot of friends, but the ones I do have, I like them to be honest.”

Was it dishonest not to volunteer information? People did it all the time. Tiffany’d sneak out in the middle of the night and pretend she hadn’t the next morning. Or Mom would take us shopping and hide the receipts from Dad. I looked away. Every time the Ferris wheel stopped, seats rocked.

“I’m honest.” I couldn’t think of many times in my life when I hadn’t been.

Manning tilted his head. He’d returned to looking at me like I was a science project. A very young one. “I know you are.”

“How?”

“I just do.”

“All right.” I fidgeted under his stare. “What was your question?”

“Why’d you look so surprised that I want to go into law?”

“You don’t really look like the type. I mean, physically, you definitely do.”

Almost imperceptibly, he raised one eyebrow. But it was true. He looked strong enough to take on criminals. Capable. “What other way is there?” he asked.

“Something about how you are. Inside.” When I realized I was staring him straight in the eye, I stopped. I’d forgotten, for a moment, how intimidating he was, how much his opinion was beginning to mean to me. “I’m sorry.”

“Never apologize for being honest.”

“Does that hurt your feelings?”

He laughed, and I relaxed a little. “No. It would take a lot more than that.”

“I don’t know anything,” I said. “I haven’t been around that many policemen in my life.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“Why do you want to be one?”

“Cops have a lot of power. They can abuse it, or they can make a difference in people’s lives. Not everyone has the resources to help themselves. They need someone on their side who does.”

“You want to help people?”

“I do.”

I felt bad if I’d implied he wasn’t the type to make a positive difference. It was obviously important to him if he planned to spend his life helping others.

“How about you? You thought about what you want to do yet?”

“A little.” I wished I knew with the same confidence he did. I studied hard to get into a good school because it was expected of me, and because top universities were bound to have students who cared about more than drinking, gossip, and sex like my sister and my friends. I just wasn’t sure what I’d do once I got there. “I’m going to college.”

“Well, that I guessed,” he said. “I bet you’ll like college. It’s different from high school. But what about after?”

“My dad says I can major in business, law, or medicine.”

He scratched his chin. “Your dad says? What’s it to him?”

That answer was easy. “Everything.”

“I see. So he wants you to do something big.”

“Pretty much.”

“And what do you want?”

“I guess I want to love what I do, I’m just not sure what that is yet. It doesn’t have to be for money as long as it’s worthwhile.”

Manning looked forward, squinting over everyone in line in front of us. Just when I thought he’d change the topic, he said, “That could be lots of different things. Things you never even thought of.” He scratched his chest. “How about if I get you some books from the library? You make me a list of your interests, and I’ll see what I can find.”

I smiled. If nothing else, it was a reason to see him again. “Okay.”

“Next,” the attendant said, holding his hand out for our tickets.

My stomach dropped. Manning had done a good job distracting me, but the ride loomed huge. A couple kids with windswept hair spilled out of their car, which swung back and forth long after they’d left. The ride had one seat for two people and a bar that came down. That was it. Not even seatbelts.