Somebody Else's Sky (Something in the Way 2)

“It’s so sweet, and it means a lot that you did all this, but you didn’t ask if—you knew I had plans to stay with my friends—”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he said incredulously.

He sounded upset, even though I’d never even asked him to be my date, and that made me angry. “So I’m supposed to sleep with you just because you went through the trouble?” I asked. “That’s a stupid reason.”

His mouth dropped open. “I didn’t mean it like that. Like that you owe me or anything. I just wanted you to, you know, feel special.”

Corbin would respect whatever decision I made, but still—he’d assumed too much. That I’d be okay with this. That I wanted this. That he could swoop in and take away everything I’d been saving for someone else.

The air conditioning kicked on, blasting on my bare skin. I crossed my arms over my nipples, embarrassed by how hard they were. “I know that’s not how you meant it,” I said, “but I think I should go.”

“Come on, Lake. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.” He picked up my wrist, running a finger under the strap of my corsage. I’d tried to take it off a few times tonight, but he wouldn’t let me. The red petals matched those on the bed. “We’re a good match. I’ve held back these past two years, waiting my turn. When other girls want more from me, I just see you.”

I wished I could tell him the same was true for me, because I knew the agony of being in his position. Maybe it should’ve made me want to try with him, but instead it presented the horrific possibility that if I was feeling the same way about Manning as Corbin did about me, then maybe Manning’s feelings for me equaled mine for Corbin. At the end of the day, they were nothing.

“I don’t like drinking,” I said, touching my temple. What could I say to Corbin other than sorry? Apologizing didn’t even seem right. “I don’t trust myself to make decisions . . . and I don’t feel right. I just want to leave.”

“Fine.” I heard the disappointment in his voice. “But I don’t have my car, and everyone here is wasted.”

I looked away. It was my first night out on my own, and I was drunk. I wasn’t about to get my parents to come down here. Dad would be pissed, and I’d be the baby who’d gotten picked up by her parents from the prom. “I’ll call my sister.”

Corbin made an irritated gesture toward the phones on his way to the front door. “I’ll be in the suite.”

Once I heard the door latch, I sat on the edge of the bed and called Tiffany.

“Hello?” Manning answered on the first ring.

My heart clenched. “It’s Lake.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Is Tiffany there?”

“She’s asleep.” That made sense, it was after midnight, but it didn’t sound as if Manning had been sleeping. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I just . . . I don’t think I want to stay at the hotel.”

He was quiet a few seconds. I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t want him to think I was childish for not wanting to have sex on prom night, but I hadn’t thought up another excuse.

“I’ll be right there,” he said.

“What about Tiffany?” she asked.

“You want me to get her up?”

I picked up a velvety petal, rubbing it between my thumb and index finger. Part of me wanted my big sister. Even though Tiffany would undoubtedly tease me about this, she had real experience with boys. She’d know how to handle Corbin. But time alone with Manning was precious. More than precious. A bigger part of me wanted him. “No.”

“Go down to the lobby and wait there,” he said. “Not outside. Don’t come out until you see my car. It’s late.”

“I’m at the—”

“I know where you are,” he said. “Ten minutes.”

I hung up. When I stood and turned, Corbin was in the entryway. He had my overnight bag slung on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Lake. I really didn’t expect anything. I’d be happy just to hang out all night.”

Guilt crept up my chest. “I’m sorry you came all the way here.”

“It’s all right,” he said. “I got to surf at least.”

I smiled a little. “Sydney’s date went home. Maybe you could take her back to the room.”

“I don’t want Sydney,” he said simply. “I want you.”

I wrung my hands in front of me. “I didn’t realize . . .”

“That was my fault,” he said, holding out my bag, “but now you do.”

Corbin insisted on walking me downstairs. We stood silently in the lobby, watching through the windows until Tiffany’s car pulled up with Manning behind the wheel.

He got out, stood against the driver’s side door with a cigarette, and watched us through the floor-to-ceiling windows. His expression was so dark, it dimmed the harsh light of the lobby.