Something in the Way (Something in the Way 1)

At the mouth of the unpaved road, a movement caught my eye. Lake stepped out into the path, looking not even a little worried I might hit her. I slammed on the brakes. “Jesus Christ.”

In denim short-shorts that looked a size too big and a t-shirt a size too small, she came around to the passenger’s side and opened the door.

“What’re you doing?” I asked.

“Looking for you. I waited at the pool, hoping you’d come since it’s our last night.”

I checked over my shoulder to make sure nobody was around. “Get in.”

She hauled herself into the seat and pulled on the door. Using all her weight only moved it a few inches. The truck was hidden by trees, but we weren’t even off the campsite yet. I leaned over to grab the handle, and the door creaked and groaned, closing heavily.

Her face was in mine. I smelled sweetness, watermelon or something, and chlorine. “You didn’t get in the pool, did you?”

“Just my feet.”

She kicked off her flip-flops. The fine, gold hair on her upper thigh shimmered under the dome light. I didn’t know where to start. The skimpy outfit? Sneaking around in the dark? Swimming without supervision? “You can’t be here, Lake.”

“I know. But it’s our last night.”

We were on display. I started to drive to get the light to turn off. “It’s everyone’s last night.”

I went slowly down the unpaved trail, but we jostled in our seats anyway. She didn’t even bother looking out the windshield. “Where are you going?” she asked.

Hunched over the wheel, I glanced between her and the road. The seat was one long bench of three seats, Caribbean-turquoise vinyl. She pulled one bare foot up on it and faced me, like I was about to say something important. “On an errand.”

“So you’re coming right back?”

“Yeah.”

“Then what’s the big deal if I come?”

It was after dark, she was a minor, and I was responsible for her. All that said, she’d never be safer than when she was with me. I was sure of it. I adjusted the rearview mirror. “You promise to go straight to your cabin when we get back?”

“Yes.”

“So what’re you doing, swimming alone at night?” I made sure my tone conveyed my disapproval.

“I told you. Waiting for you. And I only put my feet in.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s dangerous. Water tricks you. It looks calm and inviting, but it can kill you. Fast.”

She didn’t respond. If I’d scared her, good. Nothing bad ever came of respecting the elements.

The final few yards of the road were bad enough to knock a pack of cigarettes out of Vern’s visor. Lake picked them up. “How come you never smoke in front of me?”

“They’re not mine.” I pulled onto a main road, and the ride got about as smooth as it was going to get in this soon-to-be junkyard scrap metal. I relaxed back into my seat. “We talked about this. Secondhand smoke’s bad for you.”

“And not for you?”

Lake shouldn’t be in the truck. I shouldn’t’ve been noticing or still thinking about those soft-looking hairs on her leg. I should’ve sent her back. I didn’t even want alcohol but somehow I’d ended up in a situation. I would’ve killed for a cigarette right then. “Gimme those.”

She handed over the pack, and I stuffed it between the seats. “I thought about what you said the other night. I’ll quit, it’s just going to take some time.”

“I can help,” she said.

“How?”

“I don’t know. There must be some way.”

“It’s not like AA where you get a sponsor.”

I took the on-ramp to the highway. It was dead, not many cars around, just lots of black pavement flanked by shadowed trees. The sliver of a moon waxed from new to full.

“I could check in on you.” Her voice barely carried over the grumble of the engine. “Or you could call me when you get the urge.”

Seemed about right, replacing one impulse with another. Lake instead of nicotine. Only, I didn’t think that was how she meant it. I glanced over in the dark. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going to happen? After camp?”

“I don’t know. Guess I finish the job by your house. Then I find more work until I graduate. You go back to school.”

“What about Tiffany?”

The way I saw it, I had two options. Stop seeing Tiffany and end my time with the Kaplans, or keep both girls in my life. “I don’t know, Lake, but like I told you before, that’s between me and your sister.”

“Where do you live?”

“Lake . . .”

“You said you’d get me books about what to major in.”

“I will.”

“But when? I start school in a week. Next thing you know, it’ll be time to fill out applications. I’ll have homework, and my dad’s making me take a college class. I won’t have time for anything else.”

I slid my hand down the wheel. “You freaking out a little?”