I woke up before anyone else, even Hannah, and sat up in bed. My hair had dried but was tangled from my midnight swim. And from Manning’s hands. The memory, only six hours fresh, made my stomach tighten. So this was what all the fuss was about. This was why Tiffany was always flirting with boys. Mouths. Hands. Hardness and softness. Adrenaline. We’d almost gotten caught. We’d almost gone too far. Getting wrapped up in Manning, belonging to him—I didn’t see how it could ever be far enough.

Early morning light made shadows around the cabin, on the sleeping girls. It was our last morning, and I never wanted it to end, but still, I smiled.

“Hey,” Hannah whispered, her eyes puffy as she grinned back at me. “Did you go somewhere last night?”

“No,” I said immediately. “Why?”

“I woke up and you weren’t here. At least, I thought you weren’t.” She laughed. “Maybe I was seeing things. Or not seeing things.”

“I was here. I went to the bathroom, but that’s it.”

She sighed. “It’s so peaceful right now. Do we have to wake them?”

“Only if we want to send them home with what they brought. Gary wants us to start packing before breakfast.” Some of the girls stirred. “Then again, it’s our last day. What’s he going to do? Send us home?”

I threw open my sleeping bag. Hannah sat up, piling her mass of hair on top of her head, watching me move around the cabin. I put on the soundtrack to The Bodyguard and belted out “I’m Every Woman.” Some of the girls giggled. They woke up confused but smiling, the way Hannah and I had.

Hannah got up, too. In just drawstring pants and t-shirts, we ran outside and started shaking our hips. “Are you guys seriously going to make us dance alone?” I called.

Girls crawled from their beds and hurried outside like ants from a hill. Someone turned up the music. Another cabin yelled at us to be quiet, but we went on dancing. It was a beautiful morning, and I was filled up by the memory of last night. Brimming with the possibilities of what was to come. For the first time since Manning and I had met, my feelings felt validated. Maybe Manning couldn’t say how he felt, but it’d been there in his eyes, his touch.

Once we’d worn the girls out, Hannah and I walked them to Reflection. We hit the path to the clearing at the same time as cabin nine. Manning’s hair stuck up in every direction. He had dark circles under eyes, like I probably did. We fell into step beside each other and slowed, lagging behind. “Your hair’s a mess,” he told me.

“I haven’t washed it yet.”

“Aren’t you afraid something’s growing in there?”

I giggled softly. “I wouldn’t mind if it was. A souvenir.”

Manning gave me a look I recognized. He was going to scold me. I mimed zipping my lips shut, and he seemed satisfied.

“Oh, before I forget.” I dug into my pocket. “I made you something in arts and crafts.”

“Me?” he asked.

I showed him a brown, orange, and forest green wax bracelet I’d woven earlier in the week.

He plucked it out of my palm, twisting it between his fingers. “What is it?”

“A friendship bracelet. But I gave it some thought this morning, and . . . I don’t think it should be that for us.”

Manning raised his eyes to mine slowly, looking at me from under his dark, long lashes. “Lake . . .”

“Every time you crave a cigarette, look at the bracelet.”

“And?”

“And think of me. You seem to be really good at not smoking in front me, so just pretend I’m there. You still want to quit, right?”

Manning inspected the bracelet, swallowing. “Nobody ever gives me anything,” he said. “Especially not jewelry.”

“I tried to pick manly colors. They made me think of you.” I smiled. “But you don’t have to wear it. Just keep it in your pocket or something.”

He scratched his jaw. “And when I feel like a smoke, I just pull it out and look at it?”

I nodded. “And think of me.”

He seemed to consider it. “It looks small.”

I stopped walking and took the bracelet. The clasp was adjustable, so I pulled it as wide as it would go. Manning held out his hand, and I put it on him.

As I did, he looked at the bracelets stacked all the way up my wrist. “You have lots of friends.”

“But I only made one bracelet.”

“Where’s the gold one?” he asked.

“I left it at home.” It was funny how these little wax ones could feel as valuable as the expensive one from my dad. “Didn’t want it to fall off.”

Our eyes met. We were close, unlike that first day, when I’d been hesitant to approach the gruff man who’d held my delicate chain coiled in his hand.

I could’ve lingered there all morning, grazing my fingers over his strong, tan forearm. He didn’t exactly make a move to leave, either. But another cabin came into view behind us—Tiffany and her girls. Not only were they on time, but also in a straight line.

I tightened the bracelet on him and took my hand back. Manning shook his head. “After last night, I promised myself I’d never be alone with you again. Yet here we are, not even seven hours later.”

“We’re not alone,” I pointed out. “Everyone’s here.”

“I’ve got something I want you to have, too,” he told me, looking over at Tiffany. “But I’ll give it to you later.”

I smiled. The fact that I had no idea what it could even be made me extra giddy. “Later, then.”

We all found our places in the bleachers and Gary waited at the front. Since it was the last morning, it took a little longer for the kids to settle down. “Good morning,” Gary greeted the group. “You should know the drill by now, campers. Close your eyes. Breathe the morning in. Appreciate your existence. Let’s all say thank you for such a beautiful day.”

“Thank you,” I murmured with everyone else.

“For a fun-filled and active week.”

“Thank you.”

I felt eyes on me, so I opened mine. It was him, finder of bracelets, hoarder of cigarettes, a Pink Floyd beast of a man. For the first time that I knew of, he’d looked over at me during Reflection.

“It’s important to spend time outdoors,” Gary said, “to take advantage of everything Mother Nature has afforded us.”

Manning looked three times the size of anyone around him. He was significantly bigger than Kirk, his teenaged co-counselor. Gary, too, who had a big presence but was actually pretty wiry. Nobody could compare to Manning. He was a bear in the mountains. My great bear. One day he’d be mine; I already felt that he was, I just couldn’t say it. But he knew. I knew.

We held each other’s gazes until Gary cleared his throat. He was watching us, so I closed my eyes again, and he continued. “Sometimes we allow ourselves to be consumed by the television set or get caught up in problems that don’t matter. Sometimes we let friends and family dictate our state of mind. When you wake up tomorrow, even though you’ll be home, continue this practice of being grateful for what you have, and for the gift of the day to come. Be calm. Be grateful.”

“I will be grateful,” we all said in unison.

“This morning, we’ll go around and say what our favorite part of this experience has been. Take a few moments to reflect on the week before you open your eyes.”

Where to start? There were so many moments I wouldn’t trade for the world. Last night, for one. Horseback riding with Manning. And maybe my favorite of all, our time under the stars as he showed me the constellations. But it wasn’t as if I could say any of that.

Having the girls look up to me this week, I felt as if I’d grown up a little, unlike last year, when I’d still felt like one of them. I’d enjoyed getting to know Hannah and even spending time with my sister. It’d been thrilling to stand up in front of the crowd and perform skits at the nightly campfires.

A murmur made its way through the camp. When it got louder, I opened my eyes. Two policemen stood at the edge of the clearing, by the woods. One had his thumbs hooked in his belt, the other crossed his arms. My stomach dropped as I immediately thought of last night. I looked at Manning. He was talking to a kid but his eyes were on the officers.

Gary had his back to them, so he continued. “Counselors, discuss the week with your cabins and decide which moments you’d like to share with the camp. Then, we’ll go around and—” When he noticed he’d lost our attention, Gary looked over his shoulder, but only briefly. “We’ll go around and . . . share with the group. Lexi, take over a sec?”

I stopped breathing. A few moments earlier, I’d been inhaling the beauty of the day. Expelling the negativity, as Professor Sal had said. Now I couldn’t even feel my mouth, my lungs, my hands. Just my heart pounding against my ribcage. The cops were here. Surely, it had nothing to do with me and Manning, but I couldn’t ignore the coincidence. Last night was the first time I’d ever come close to getting in trouble with the police, and here they were again.

I looked to Manning for cues. He stood tall. Only his eyes moved as he watched Gary cross the dirt toward the policemen.

Lexi took Gary’s spot, but everyone ignored her.

“What’s going on?” one of my campers asked.

“Nothing.” It came out as a whisper. Gary and the officers turned to look at us. All of us. Not me. Maybe me? Then they closed their circle, talking with their heads bent.

“Lake?”

“Hmm?” I blinked, looking at the sea of concerned faces below me.

Hannah rubbed one of girls’ backs. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” she said, but to me, she whispered, “Why are they here?”

Manning wouldn’t look at me, but I needed to him to look at me. I hadn’t seen the officer last night, but he’d sounded younger than the two cops standing there. Bucky appeared out of nowhere, shuffling his feet as though he’d been literally dragged from his bed. Behind him came a couple other permanent staff members I recognized but couldn’t name.

Manning finally turned to me and slowly, he shook his head. No. I could only guess what he meant. Don’t look at him. Don’t say anything. Don’t act suspicious. To show him I was adult enough to handle this, I took a much-needed deep breath, tore my gaze from him, and turned to my girls.

“I think I know what happened,” I said solemnly.

Eight pairs of eyes widened. “What?”

“Someone snuck candy into the cabin, even though Gary warned us not to.”

Hannah clamped a hand over her mouth. “Are they going to arrest the culprit?”

“Maybe.” I smiled. My face was stiff. I felt as though I could vomit any moment. “I tried to tell you guys . . .”

Some of the girls gasped. “We didn’t do it. We swear.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Hannah said.

“It was probably the boys’ cabins,” I said. “They’re always pulling dumb pranks.”

“Must’ve been Manning’s,” Hannah said.

I looked at her. “Why would you say that?”

She nodded over my shoulder. I turned. Gary made his way toward cabin nine as the cops retreated into the woods. I reached out to steady myself on something and Hannah was nearest.

“Are you okay?” she asked when I took her arm.

This was bad. They knew. Gary knew. Manning and I hadn’t even really done anything, but would anyone believe us? What would they think, knowing Manning and I had spent a few hours off the campground in the middle of the night? I wanted to go listen to whatever Gary had to say, but my feet felt like concrete, as if Manning’s withering look before had glued me to the spot. And everyone in camp was watching.

Including Tiffany.

The girls tittered and giggled. They whispered to each other, excited by the distraction. “I have Skittles in my bag, but my brother said bears don’t eat those.”

Gary said something to Manning. The whole exchange only lasted a few seconds. Then he returned to relieve Lexi of the job she hadn’t done. “All right, everyone. Calm down. It’s no big deal.” He smiled, but behind it, in his eyes, I sensed something was off. “Where were we?”

Manning wasn’t in the cafeteria. Neither was Gary. I made myself a plate of food but didn’t touch it. When breakfast was nearly over and it became apparent Manning wouldn’t show, I asked Hannah to take over and went to look for them.

Camp was empty, one-hundred-plus kids crammed into the dining hall. I went directly to cabin nine and felt an ounce of relief to see Manning out front. He was talking to someone in the cabin.

I recognized Gary’s voice. “ . . . last night . . . alcohol. How come . . . what took so long?”

I crunched through a pile of leaves, and Manning turned around. He shook his head. “Give us a minute, Lake.”

“Why are the police here?” I asked.

Gary came onto the front step. “We’re handling it.”

I ignored him. “Manning?”

He sighed, facing Gary again. “I need a second to talk to her.”

“We don’t have a second.”

“She’s Tiffany’s sister, man.”

Gary put his hands up. “Just saying, you probably don’t want to make them wait.”

Manning left him there, nodding for me to follow him.

When we were out of earshot, he stopped. His eyes darted around our immediate area, and when he seemed satisfied we were alone, he spoke under his breath. “Everything’s fine. I just need you to promise me one thing.”

Fine didn’t sound fine. It sounded bad. I wanted to be strong, but my legs felt about to give out. “Why? What’s going on?”

He went to put a hand on my shoulder but stopped himself. “Do you trust me?”

I nodded. No hesitation.

“Then believe me when I say, it’s nothing.” He looked over my head as he spoke. “The reason the cops are here has nothing to do with you.”

“What about you?”

“I just need you to promise me . . .” He returned his eyes to mine. As if he had some kind of power over me, my heart rate calmed. I’d promise him anything, because Manning would protect me. I knew that. But who would protect him? “Don’t mention last night to anyone. No matter what. If someone asks where you were, lie, and make it damn convincing.”

“But—”

“Did Hannah hear you come in? Any of the girls?”

“No. Yes—Hannah. But I told her I was in the bathroom.”

“Last night, after the party, you went straight to your cabin and fell asleep. Then you woke up this morning. If you feel the urge to tell the truth, don’t do it without talking to me first.”

“But why?” I begged. “Why would someone ask me where I was?”

“They won’t. I won’t let them. Your only job is to protect yourself. Mine is to protect us both. Now, go get your sister for me.”

I reeled back as if I’d been slapped, face tingling. “My sister?”

“Send her here alone. Quick. I don’t have a lot of time.”

“No. You can’t just tell me that and send me away. Where are you going?”

“They’re taking me to the station. It’s nothing, Lake, but if you open your mouth, it could become something. Understand?”

He wasn’t in trouble. I had to trust in that. But he was right—no matter that nothing had happened last night, we were the only two who knew that for sure. I couldn’t think of a coherent response so I just nodded.

“Go,” he said. I wanted something. Anything. A kiss. A hug. I would’ve taken a pat on the back. All I got was a hard stare. “This is adult business,” he said, his jaw ticking. “You’re too young.”

His words were as sharp as knives, and they cut deep. Even after last night, I was still a child to him. Immature. Not to be trusted with important things. I swallowed thickly to keep from crying like the baby he already thought I was. And then I went and got Tiffany.