Something in the Way (Something in the Way #1)

“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.”

“Take us to the station, Gary,” I said. “Please.”

“I can’t. Not only would it not help, but Manning specifically asked me to keep you two out of it.”

“But I’m his girlfriend,” Tiffany said.

“He’s trying to protect you.” He sniffed at us, his eyes roaming over our faces. We must’ve looked as bad as we felt, because he conceded, but not without an eye-roll. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll come back as soon as I can and check things out. Once everything at home is sorted, I’ll drive back up here on my own and make sure Manning’s all right.”

It wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but I could see it was all we were going to get. It was better than Manning being alone. “Thanks,” we said.

“But I have one condition—relax. You girls are too young to worry about this sort of stuff. Actually, I have two conditions. Pack up your shit and get over to the buses now.” With a poor attempt at an angry-face, he turned and walked off.

Tiffany looked exhausted. I could tell she was thinking about leaving her stuff behind just so she could stop packing. Considering there were designer purses in there, she must’ve been desperate.

“I’ll sit on the bag, and you zip,” I said. “I’m heavier than you.” I might’ve been, if I’d had the boobs and butt she did, but it was exactly what she needed to hear. She inhaled a breath and stood so I could take her place. After wrestling with the zipper, she got the bag closed. Her face and eyes were red, her hairline sticky with sweat. I couldn’t help wondering what’d happened just now, before Gary’d interrupted us. Tiffany was clearly distraught. Was it possible she actually cared about Manning?

With that realization, a new fear settled over me. Not for Manning or even myself. If Tiffany found out I’d snuck off with her boyfriend, she’d be furious. Embarrassed. Hurt. What I’d done, I’d done without considering how it might affect my own sister. It’d been easy to convince myself it wouldn’t matter to her because she didn’t have real feelings for Manning. But did she?

“I’m sorry this week was so bad,” I said sincerely. “I’ll go to the mall with you when we get home and buy you something.”

She wiped her nose. “With what?”

“I have some allowance saved. Probably more than you.”

She turned around and climbed onto her bed to remove pictures of her and her friends she’d taped to the wall. “You know I can have almost anyone. Manning’s lucky I’m still around.”

I wasn’t sure where that was coming from, but there was only one way to answer that if I wanted to get out of here alive. “I know.” I waited for her to continue, but she just picked tape off the corners of the photographs. “Did something happen with him?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Are you thinking of breaking up with him?”

“Maybe.”

So many things ran through my mind at once. If they broke up, Manning would be out of her life. But would he then be out of mine, too? No. He and I had to find a way. We knew it’d come to this. It wasn’t as if I’d expected her to stay with Manning for two whole years until I turned eighteen.

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