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“Perfect.” She held it up to her waist. “Cut it and wear it next time you see him.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. With a pair of Mary Janes or clogs or something, you’ll be all legs. He’ll forget his own name.”
I took the skirt, examining the button-down front and plummy color. It never would’ve occurred to me to do anything other than donate it. “Okay. Thanks. Anything else?”
“Nope. Just be yourself.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, okay.”
“What? I’m serious. You’re smart and beautiful. You hold all the power—haven’t you ever watched your sister?”
My mood dimmed. Val had only been around Tiffany a few times, but I guessed that was all it took to see her charm. I wasn’t really in the habit of emulating her—if anything, I was genetically predisposed to do the opposite of whatever she did—but in this case, I could see Val’s reasoning. Tiffany had spent the last year getting to know Manning while I’d stayed here, getting further away from him.
Val picked up her backpack. “I have to go record Wings for my mom or she’ll flip. When are you seeing this guy next?”
I turned away so I wouldn’t have to lie to her face. “Not sure. I’ll let you know.”
“’K. Later.”
As Val’s Beetle rumbled down the street, I picked up Birdy and held her to my chest. I could almost convince myself I smelled campfire in the woods, sweat and sawdust on Manning’s skin, lingering smoke on his clothes. As comforting as Birdy was, she would never be the real thing, and in just a few hours, that’s what I’d have. Manning—big, strong, and real, right in front of me.
8
Manning
Back against the wall, cigarette in hand, I watched the parking lot for Tiffany’s car. I’d stood like this lots of times on the other side of these walls, but today I didn’t see any orange jumpsuits, fried grass, or cracked concrete slabs. Just freedom.
I had a plastic bag with the contents of my life. Wallet, a check for what was left in my store account, and two-hundred dollars gate money. I’d filed Lake’s unread letters away within my paperwork. Everything else I either left behind for Wills or trashed—except my dad’s confession. The paper was worn from the number of times I’d read his letter. I wanted to memorize it. There was no worse thing in my life than what was in those pages—but also no better motivation for me to work toward becoming the opposite of my dad.
Tiffany was late. Maybe she wouldn’t show at all. I closed my eyes, rested the back of my head on the brick, and tried to imagine what I’d do, where I’d go, but all I saw was Lake. Waiting for me at the curb. Opening her arms to make it all better. In the back of my mind, I knew there was a small chance she’d show up today. She’d always shown her youth in her persistence to get what she wanted, at least when it came to me.
I heard Tiffany’s car before I saw it. I lifted my head as she came speeding around the corner, her BMW thumping as she flew right over a speedbump and then slammed on her brakes.
She parked in a loading zone and hopped out. “Babe, you’re free!”
Before I could think, she was running at me, all blonde hair, her skirt flapping up. She jumped, and I caught her with an ooph, my arms locking around her. I moved her hair aside so it wouldn’t catch on my cigarette. As soon as I got a whiff of her shampoo, I buried my nose in her neck and surprised myself with a long, fat sigh of relief.
Babe, you’re free.
This nightmare was over.
She pulled back to look me in the face. “There must be so many things you want to do.”
With her skirt up around her hips, and her pussy pressing warmly on my crotch, the first thing that came to mind was sex, but I couldn’t let myself think too hard about it without getting us into trouble. For fuck’s sake, she could probably wiggle a little harder and I’d come in my pants. “Yeah.” I patted her ass. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
She slid down and led me over to the car.
I held open my hand. “Keys.”
“You want to drive?” she asked nervously. “Do you remember how?”
The thought of getting into the passenger’s seat made the collar of my starchy, puke-green release-shirt feel tight. I’d had enough of other people having power over me. There was no way in hell I wasn’t driving us out of here. “Keys,” I repeated, and she handed them over.
The car was already muggy just from sitting idle a few minutes. I had to push the seat all the way back before I got in, and my head still touched the roof. Immediately, I rolled down all the windows, turned on the A/C, and got to adjusting all the mirrors.
