Something in the Way (Something in the Way 1)

“Horses,” one of the girls screamed.

I was the only one at the table who didn’t agree. Climbing on a large, unpredictable animal sounded no safer than riding a hunk of unreliable metal into the sky. It was the only activity I’d sit out. Like last year, I planned to wait at the stable while Hannah and the instructors took the girls.

“We have arts and crafts next,” I said.

Some of the girls groaned, some tittered. Katie tugged on my sleeve. “Can we make friendship bracelets?”

“Of course.” We still had an afternoon full of things to do, so I did a drink check. “Did everyone have at least one full glass of water?”

“Yes,” they all replied.

Hannah and I exchanged a look. We’d only gone through one pitcher between thirteen of us. I stood. “I’ll get more.”

As I waited for a refill from the kitchen staff, Manning came up next to me and set his tray on the buffet. He held his plate out to Bucky, who was packing up the chafing dishes. “Fill her up.”

Bucky was a local I recognized from last year. He scrunched his mouth so hard, it almost touched his eyebrows. “No seconds.”

“Come on, man. You got plenty left and I’m a growing boy.”

He’d just served food to over a hundred kids, but it didn’t matter. He always looked that grumpy. “Please, Bucky?” I asked.

He snatched the plate and began shoveling food onto it.

“Do you always get seconds?” I asked.

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I wouldn’t quit weightlifting just yet if I were you.”

Manning laughed. “I’d ask if you want me to get you seconds, too, but it sounds like you can handle yourself.”

I’d eaten everything off my plate but I wasn’t satisfied. “There’s dessert,” I said.

“Yeah? You want some?”

“I’m always hungrier up here.”

He took his plate back from Bucky and I got the water pitcher. Manning walked me over to the dessert section, picked out two chocolate puddings, and handed me one. “Are you having fun?” he asked on our way back to our tables.

“Yes, but I knew I would. Are you?”

“I am,” he said. “A lot, actually. All the outdoor activities remind me of being a kid again. The boys’ enthusiasm is infectious, and it’s been a while since . . . I mean, they stink like hell, but they keep me on my toes.”

I giggled. Manning’s boys were nine, too. Same as last year, some of them hadn’t discovered deodorant yet. “Do we have anything together today?” I asked since the same age groups were often paired for activities. “Just asking in case I should bring a face mask.”

“I don’t know.” He nudged my arm with his elbow before stopping at his table. “Guess we’ll see.”

I went to turn away but stopped. I lowered my voice. “After lights-out, most of the counselors come back to the dining hall to hang out and play games and stuff.”

“I heard.”

“Will you come?” I asked.

He looked over my head a second. “Maybe.”

When I returned to my girls, my smile must’ve been as bright as a light bulb. I was sure it took up half my face.

“I want dessert, too,” one of the girls said. I handed over my pudding without protest.

“Have you seen Tiffany?” Hannah asked, nodding across the cafeteria. “You might want to go check on her.”

I looked over. Tiffany had her finger in one of the girls’ faces as though she were scolding her. She’d been assigned to a cabin nobody wanted—the twelve-year-old girls. They were vain, boy-crazy, and learning to test boundaries. Part of me thought it was fair payback for how snotty she’d acted at that age, and the other part worried only Tiffany or the girls would survive the week—not both.

I got back up, crossed the hall to cabin eleven, and plopped down next to Tiffany. “How’s it going?”

I hadn’t meant to sneak up on her, but she jumped a mile high, whirling on me. Dirt streaked her temple, and her normally perfect hair looked as though it hadn’t been brushed in a week. “Jesus, Lake. Hell on earth. That’s how it’s going.”

I had to laugh. “It’s the first day. Things are always a little crazy.”

“You have to get me out of here.”

A couple of Tiffany’s campers looked over. I shushed her. “They’ll hear you.”

“I don’t care. They’re a bunch of brats.”

“You’re a brat,” said one girl.

“Shut up.” Tiffany pointed at her. “I told you all to be quiet.”

“Tiffany, stop. You can’t say that to them.”

She sighed, her upper body slumping. “I don’t like this, Lake. My co-counselor is only two years older than them and she’s not any help.”

I bit my thumbnail. “Try to remember what it was like to be twelve. There’s a balance between being their friend and commanding their respect.”

“Can you help me? Please?”

“I have my own cabin to deal with,” I said. Since I felt sorry for her, I added, “Once they’re in bed, all the counselors come back here to hang out. We can vent then.”