Something in the Way (Something in the Way 1)

That’s because he’s with the police, I wanted to snap at her. But that wasn’t the way to get through to Tiffany. “What’d he want?” I asked. “When I sent you to talk to him.”

“Iris!” Tiffany gaped behind me. “Are you kidding me?”

I looked back to find Iris grinning in red lipstick. She made kissing noises. “Oh, Manning. I lo-o-o-ve you.”

I recognized that lip color—it was Chanel. This wouldn’t go well. I was about to intervene when Tiffany stood up. “Come here,” she said to Iris.

Iris took a step back.

“You did it wrong. I taught you guys the other night how to use lip liner. You should’ve put that on first because now the lipstick is bleeding. You look like a hooker.”

“Tiffany,” I said through my teeth.

“What?” she asked me. “Do you want her to look like a hooker?”

Iris narrowed her eyes and then went to Tiffany, digging the lipstick from her pocket. She handed it over. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Tiffany popped off the cap, inspected the lipstick, and muttered under her breath, “This would cost you a month’s allowance, but it’s okay.”

If I hadn’t been so concerned about Manning, I might’ve fainted with shock. Somehow, at some point, Tiffany had been struck with an ounce of patience. Though it made me happy to see her try, I needed her to focus. “Tiff? What’d he say?”

Tiffany capped the lipstick, sat on the ground, and put it in the mesh pocket of her luggage. “Who?”

“Manning.”

She blinked up to me. For the way she’d just screeched at Iris, her voice was eerily even. “He’s in trouble because he left camp last night.”

I scratched my elbow. I shouldn’t feel guilty about lying. How many times had Tiffany lied to me or omitted information to get her way? “Do you know why?” I asked.

“Don’t you? You talked to him.”

My palms sweat. I didn’t know what she was talking about. “When?”

“This morning. You were the one who told me to go to his cabin. Didn’t he tell you all this?”

“No. He said it was . . . adult business.”

Tiffany arched an eyebrow and laughed. “You’re an adult, aren’t you? You’ve been trying to act like one lately. To be like me.”

My face reddened. “What do you mean?”

She looked away. “Manning doesn’t think it’s a big deal, whatever the police want. But he wasn’t sure how long they’d keep him, so he might need me to come pick him up later.”

“That’s a long drive to get back here.”

“Who else is going to do it? You? His family? He wants me there.” She sat on her overstuffed suitcase and tried to pull the zipper closed. “All I know is it has to do with something that happened last night. He wouldn’t tell me more.”

I knew it. Either he’d lied by saying it didn’t involve me, or there was something else going on. Manning wanted to protect me, he’d made that clear since we’d met, but at what point was he making things worse? I didn’t exactly feel safe with him in custody, unable to talk me through our next move.

“Can I come with you to pick him up?” I asked.

Tiffany yanked on the zipper so hard, her fingers slipped, and she flew backward. “Fuck.” She shook out her hand. “God, that hurt. And I broke a goddamn nail.”

“Tiff?”

“I’m so sick of this place,” she said. “It’s dirty and loud. I only came for him, and now he’s . . .”

“What?” I asked, every hair on my body prickling.

“Never mind—”

“What else did he say?”

“Nothing, I already told you.”

“But if there’s anything else, anything—I need to know.”

“What do you want from me, Lake?” she said, pounding her fist on the suitcase. Surprised, I stepped back. “I have no idea what’s going on. He wouldn’t tell me shit. I don’t know what to do or if I should do anything or just . . .”

Her body shook with the threat of a sob. I was so shocked by her tears that I got on the floor next to her. She rarely cried if it wasn’t to get something out of my dad. I pulled her hands from her face to put my arms around her. “It’s okay.”

She pulled away. “Don’t.”

“Why?”

She narrowed her eyes on me. “You’re the reason we’re in this mess.”

It seemed to me Tiffany and Manning were adult enough to decide whether or not they wanted to be here, but when had Tiffany ever taken responsibility for her decisions? “Whatever, Tiffany. I came here to check on you and Manning, not fight.”

“What if he gets in real trouble?” she asked. “How will you feel then?”

“He won’t.”

“How do you know?” she asked.

“Innocent people don’t go to jail.”

She looked at me hard. “What if he’s not innocent?”

“He is,” Gary said from the doorway. “Manning’s a good guy. Whatever happened, I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.”