Something in the Way (Something in the Way 1)

Distracted, I pulled on the reins without meaning to, and Betsy stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Lake asked.

“Nothing.” I squeezed Betsy’s middle to get her to go again. I tried to remember how Tiffany smelled. Nothing came to mind except that she smoked cigarettes and chewed a lot of minty gum.

“I’m ready to try,” Lake said.

My head was still foggy, my ears buzzing. I didn’t want Lake to take over while I was out of sorts. Maddy had died around the same age as these girls surrounding me. I was responsible for them. Should I be doing more to keep them safe? Things I hadn’t done for Madison? The day she’d died, it wasn’t the first time my dad had gone into a rage. So why hadn’t my mom or I had him locked up sooner? Why hadn’t I been gentler, more understanding with Maddy?

“Manning?” Lake asked.

“In a minute.”

“But we’re falling behind.”

The rest of the campers were yards ahead, so I tapped Betsy into a trot. Lake bounced underneath me, skidding backward in the saddle until she was right up against my crotch. Up until this point, as a grown man, I’d thought I could control myself. Even earlier, when she’d squeezed me as tightly as a predator would its prey, her hands dangerously low on my stomach, I’d kept it together. But now, my body reacted only as a man. I wanted to wrap my arms around her front, pull her closer, let her feel what she did to me. I was losing control.

“Take the reins, Lake.” I slowed Betsy down and said, “Now. Come on.”

She did, and I slid back to put some space between us.

“I’m not going to the dining hall tonight,” I announced.

“What?” Her fine blonde hairs floated between us and stuck to my chest. “Why not?”

I guess I’d said it to put it out there. To put a different kind of distance between us. Because I knew, I knew she’d ask why. How much had she heard the night before in the woods? Tiffany and I had been arguing because I’d refused, yet again, to go on a “walk” with her. She didn’t want to walk. She wanted to fool around.

“I came here for you,” Tiffany had said once Lake’d gone off with that kid. “You think I like this?” she’d asked. “The girls hate me. I’m here for you, and you don’t even care.”

“I care,” I’d said.

Tiffany had stamped out her cigarette in the woods without a thought for how dangerous that might be. “Then prove it,” she’d said and walked off.

I’d needed to hear it. Being up here, rules changed. There wasn’t anything wrong with hanging around a sixteen-year-old, and it was messing with my head. Tiffany was out of her element, and she needed my help. Lake could handle herself. Maybe it was the wakeup call Lake and I both needed.

“Tiffany and I have plans,” I told Lake. “Alone.”

Lake had the posture of a college professor. It made her reactions easy to read. I expected disappointment, and that’s what I got. My instinct was to comfort her, but that’d probably be the worst thing I could do to a teenage girl I was pretty sure harbored a crush on me.

“What plans?” she asked. “You can’t leave the grounds.”

“I can if I want.” I was a grown man, and I’d go where I liked. But I wouldn’t. Where I wanted to be, one of the main reasons I’d come here, was where I could watch over Lake. I wasn’t going to go off for a few hours and leave her behind. “Bucky’s going to make us dinner after lights-out.”

“Oh.”

There was a fine line between hurting her and warning her off, and I could tell by her reaction I’d achieved the former. Knowing it was best didn’t make me feel better. Not thirty minutes ago, she’d pulled her body close to mine, told me she was getting older every day. It wasn’t news to me, and it tore me down the middle. I didn’t want her to get older, to know what I knew, to do things Tiffany had done. But it would happen regardless. Someone else would be her first love. Some other man would be the first to cherish her. The first to ruin her. It couldn’t be me. It wasn’t so much the difference in our ages that scared me, but how much a person could change, could be changed, in only a couple years.

They were thoughts I didn’t want to have, and they got louder as she sat quietly, guiding the horse. There wasn’t a single blemish on her pink cheeks. I opened my mouth to ask if she’d put on sunscreen, but that wasn’t what came out. “What about that guy?”

She sighed. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

I’d gone too far, maybe. “Do what?”