“Some people just don’t. It’s not always a bad thing.”
“Tell me about your family.”
“No.”
“What about your sister? Is she with your parents?”
With his head back, his throat was exposed, so I could see and hear him swallow. “No. I don’t talk about my family.”
“Even with me? I won’t tell anyone.”
“It has nothing to do with you. I just don’t.”
I knew I shouldn’t take it personally, but I did. Nobody made him smile like me—wasn’t that worth something? Didn’t he trust me? Feel close to me? I’d trusted him from the moment he’d held my bracelet in his palm and asked me to come get it. All this time, I’d thought he was asking me to read between the lines, to hear the things he couldn’t say.
“We’re friends, aren’t we?” I asked.
“I already told you we were. I just said we’d always be.”
“You don’t know that. Are you embarrassed to have a friend my age?”
“No,” he said flatly. He looked about to add something and thought better of it. He spoke slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “You’re not that much younger than your sister.”
“But we’re different.”
“I know.” He blinked. “How do you think you two are different?”
“She’s pretty.”
He shut his eyes and inhaled a deep breath. “She is.”
It wasn’t the reassurance I wanted. Maybe he thought I was fishing for a compliment, and I was, so why couldn’t he just tell me I was pretty, too? Was that so bad? I wouldn’t read anything into it. I was ninety-nine percent sure about that.
“Someday,” Manning said, almost to himself, “when you’re older and wiser, looking back on this, you’ll understand.”
“When?”
“I can’t tell you that, because I’m not even sure I understand.”
That wasn’t fair. Maybe he didn’t know exactly what he felt about me, but he had some idea, and he expected me not to wonder about it. I would wonder and think hard about it now—not ‘someday’ when it might be too late. When he was already gone. I wasn’t convinced Manning wanted Tiffany, or even that she wanted him. So what was the link between them? When one didn’t want the other, what had kept them together the past month?
“I said someday,” Manning said, breaking the silence. “Not now.”
“I can’t wait that long.”
He grinned at me. “There’s no hidden prize or anything. Just understanding that comes with time and age.” He looked at my bare legs and quickly away again, as if it were a habit he was trying to break. “You know our conversations—they stay between us. Right? You know that?”
I nodded. Our time together was precious and not to be shared. “I know.”
“All right. Let’s talk about something interesting.” He sat up again and scratched his chin, thinking. “If you won a contest on the radio to go anywhere in the world and you had to leave tomorrow night, where would you go?”
“Big Bear,” I said.
He laughed. “But you’ll already be there.”
So will you. I wasn’t brave enough to say it. Instead I asked, “What was Tiffany’s answer?”
“I didn’t ask her.”
A thrill ran up my spine. This was mine. “I have to think about it.”
“That’s fine.” He turned to me, giving me his full attention. “We have time. I want to know.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I care,” he said. “I care very much.”
14
Lake
Something about a dining hall full of humans under fourteen amplified everything. Counselors shouted over kids excited to be away from home for a week. Trays banged against tables, silverware against plastic dishes. The camp’s kitchen staff hurried kids down the buffet line. Cooked hamburger meat battled with body odor—I was glad not to eat near the boys.
Cabin nine sat in the middle of the hall with Manning in the center of the picnic-style table. The boys laughed at what he said, looked up at him between bites of sloppy joes, showed him stuff from their pockets.
Peals of giggles at my own table brought my attention back to where it should be. Hannah sat at the opposite end of a long wooden table, eight nine-year-old girls between us. “What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Bettina likes Bobby Newman.”
In the four hours we’d been here, it wasn’t the first boy-talk I’d heard. “Which one’s Bobby Newman?”
They all pointed at Manning’s table and Bettina turned a bright shade of red. Luckily for her, the only “boy” who noticed was Manning. He sucked his teeth, holding back a grin, as if he knew exactly what we were talking about. Bettina’s secret crush. Mine, too.
“What activity are you girls most looking forward to?” Hannah asked.
Reluctantly, I pulled my gaze away from Manning’s. Was it fair to feel as if I knew him well enough to say he was happy? I hadn’t seen him so relaxed, so quick to laugh and smile, as I had since we’d gotten to the parking lot this morning.