Something in the Way (Something in the Way 1)

The Ferris wheel stopped. I tried to see around Corbin, then through his legs, past his skinned knees, but he blocked my view with the skateboard.

“We went to camp together when we were kids.”

“What?”

“Young Cubs,” he said. “You know? Camp?”

I looked up at him again. I remembered, but it seemed so long ago. We were different people then. Kids. “I’m going back this year as a junior counselor,” I said.

“Cool. I’ll be there for a day to coach a baseball game, show them how it’s done.” He winked. “I’d stay longer, but I have baseball camp that week.”

“Sounds fun,” I said, leaning so far to the side I almost toppled over.

“Looking for Tiffany?” he asked.

“She’s on the Ferris wheel.”

“Alone?”

Manning’s height gave them away. He was at least a head taller than any adult, and in a crowd of kids, he verged on giant status. “She’s with a friend.”

“Who? Sarah?”

Manning’s eyes locked on Corbin’s back, and he came over, Tiffany on his heels.

The cotton candy made my mouth tacky. I ran my tongue over my teeth, worried they might be blue. I was suddenly aware of my breathing, of the fact that my shorts had ridden up when I sat.

“Hello?” Corbin asked.

“Huh?” I asked without looking away from Manning.

Corbin checked over his shoulder just as Tiffany spotted us.

“Hey, Corbin,” Tiffany said, looking a bit off balance in her platforms. “Looking for me?”

“Nope.” Corbin turned back to me. “Just saying what’s up to your sister.”

Tiffany grabbed Corbin’s forearm, pulling him away. “Have you met Manning?” she asked. “He’s in college.”

“Cool.” Corbin dropped the skateboard on the ground and planted a big, fat Airwalk sneaker on it to stop it from rolling away. “I should get back to my friends. We’ll be surfing Huntington Pier all next week, Lake. South side, in the mornings. If you want to come watch.”

I waved. “See ya.”

Manning watched Corbin skate off, his eyes narrowed. “Who was that?”

“Corbin Swenson,” Tiffany and I answered at the same time.

“What’d he want?” Manning asked.

I shrugged. “Just saying hi.”

Tiffany tightened her ponytail. “Are you friends?”

Both Tiffany and Manning towered over me. For just getting off a carnival ride, neither of them looked very happy. Had they fought? I could almost convince myself I’d heard something like jealousy in Manning’s questions just now.

I pulled my knees against my chest. “I wouldn’t say friends. More like acquaintances.”

“Oh.” Tiffany sat next to me on the stairs. “I went out with his brother once. I always thought Corbin had a crush on me.”

That was a typical thing for Tiffany to assume. “So?”

“So just keep in mind that some guys might look at you and see me.”

“Meaning?”

She brushed some of my hair off my neck, glancing up at Manning as if checking to see if she should proceed. “You and I are different. I cut class. Went to bonfires on the beach, drank, smoked weed.”

I wanted to relax into the feeling of Tiffany’s fingers in my hair, but I worried an insult was coming. “And?”

“And you do homework for fun.”

I made a face. “I do not.”

“Just don’t be naïve. Corbin’s a nice guy, but he can have any girl he wants, which means he probably does. He’s a heartbreaker.”

Maybe I did focus too much on school, and maybe I had no clue about boys like Tiffany thought. But I didn’t want Manning to know that. “I’m not as innocent as you think,” I said.

Tiffany laughed and hugged me from the side. “Yes, you are.”

Okay, so she was right. I’d experienced embarrassingly little—less, even, than my friends, and they were mild compared to most girls at my school.

“Innocence is good,” Manning said, sounding funny, as if his teeth were clenched. “She has the rest of her life for parties. For punks like that guy.”

Tiffany ruffled my hair as if I were her child, not her high school-aged sister. “What should we ride next, Manning?”

“You want that stuffed animal?” he asked.

Her eyes lit up. “Do you really think you can win it?”

I tasted metal. It was as if I wasn’t even there. They acted like they were my babysitters. I should’ve paid more attention to the guys Tiffany had dated in the past. How long did it take for her to lose interest and move on to the next? To me, Manning seemed as untouchable as the glossy celebrities taped to Tiffany’s wall, so why did she get to touch him?

Manning and Tiffany turned to the booth with the stuffed animals, ignoring me. As long as I sat there being my quiet, innocent self, they could carry on with their lives.

I stood, brushing dirt off the seat of my shorts. “I’m going to see if Corbin wants to ride the Ferris wheel with me.”

Manning turned around first. “What?”

“I said—”

“I heard you.” He glanced at the ride and back at me. “I thought you were scared.”