I Shouldn't Love Him
I Shouldn’t Love Him (Book 2) – Chapter 74

LAKE

Tuesday morning, three long days since they took Manning away, I couldn’t stand doing nothing any longer. This time next week, I would be back at school, even more helpless than I already was.

I went to the bathroom, knocked on Tiffany’s door and entered.

“How rude?” she asked. Tiffany was lying on her stomach, reading Cosmopolitan, blowing on her nails.

A bottle of purple nail polish rested precariously on her white comforter.

“I could have been naked.”

“I saw you naked.”

“What do you want?”

Tiffany’s room was the personification of a dilapidated childhood. In elementary school, Mom had redecorated it with white wicker furniture, ruffled bedding, and pastel walls. She had helped Tiffany and I paint tulips downstairs. But as Tiffany grew older, she had nailed concert posters around her bed. Paint peeled off the wicker desk she had thrown her phone on. She had pasted photos of celebrities on her vanity mirror. One tulip head had been covered with a glittery sticker that read “Goddess” and another with a cartoonish MTV logo. Her shoe collection had overflowed from the closet, Doc Martens flowers peeking out from her fluffy white rug.

I turned down the stereo volume.

“did you manage to contact Gary?”

“Hey.

“He called last night. Manning robbed someone. That’s why he’s here.

But it didn’t make any sense.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

There were so many ways to tell him that Manning couldn’t have committed a crime that night, but how? I had to admit that I was with him, and I had promised not to say anything. “What . . Who do they think he stole from?

She looked up at me.

“Guess.”

“How would I know?”

Her eyes stayed on me for so long, it was like she was expecting me to respond. “Another advisor? ” I asked.

“No.” She returned to her magazine. “He didn’t take anything.

I just broke into a house in the suburbs during a drunken run. No one, not even Gary, knows what happened between when he left and in the morning. At least, no one came forward.

My throat went dry. There was no robbery. There was no house. Just a truck, LAKE and infinite stars. Manning was innocent. “Is

it that Gary thinks he did it?”

“No. Me neither, obviously.

I tried to feel relieved.

Gary and Tiffany were adults – they knew better. They would take care of it.

“What else did he say?” »

“Manning is meeting with his lawyer this week, and they will go before a judge. I forget what it’s called, but Gary says it’s when he pleads “not guilty.” We’ll know more after that.

“But what happens until then? Will Manning return?

Either my chest would collapse or my heart would start to swell. I couldn’t imagine him being held at the station for days, just waiting, thinking of all the things he would have done differently that night. Maybe even miss our time together.

“Or is he back already?” Tiffany carefully turned a page and checked her varnish.

“I don’t know. I guess he’s in prison.

On his desk, next to his phone, was a lined pink notepad with hearts scribbled in the margin and handwritten notes. “Is

that Did Gary give you the name of the lawyer?

Tiffany tilted her head toward the magazine. She didn’t answer for so long, I assumed she forgot I was there. In reverse, I read the title of the article that she found so captivating:

“Best Fall Makeup.”

I was fed up. Either it was her narcissism that was getting to me, or the fact that fall was practically there, rushing us when the summer clearly couldn’t end like this.

“Tiffany, you need to take this seriously. If you don’t want him anymore, fine, but he’s still a friend of ours.”

“What makes you think I don’t want him?”

“You said that at camp.”

“And he’s my boyfriend, not your friend. Why do you want the name of his lawyer?

“Because I need to talk to him. I think I might have seen something that night.

Tiffany closed her magazine and sat down, grabbing the nail polish bottle just as it started to spill.

“Okay, tell me, and I’ll call her.”

We looked at each other. I had felt like I was taking a quiz without knowing the subject. Tiffany was weird and enigmatic and I didn’t have time for that. I walked over to her desk and grabbed the notepad. “Stop,” she

said sliding over it.

I jumped back and read his handwriting.

“Tuesday, arraignment. One hour.”

I looked at her.

“It’s today”

“So?”

Manning was going to court for something he didn’t do, and I still hadn’t told anyone my side of the story. For all the times he had protected me, I owed him the same. I didn’t know much about the law, but I had heard about attorney-client privilege on television. I was pretty sure Manning’s lawyer would need to know the truth, whether or not it would hurt Manning.

I went back to my room and carried my phone to the bed.

Making calls in this house was dangerous business. At any time, someone could pick up the line. Sometimes you didn’t even hear the click, you just kept talking about things that your parents and older sisters might tease you about later. Vickie once raved about Luke Harold’s hair, how much better it was than Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s.

My father had heard ten seconds of it and still wouldn’t let me live it down.

Tiffany was the only person home, but she couldn’t hear this call. She would have every right to demand answers if she found out I had sensitive information about the night her boyfriend was arrested.

I reread his notes—Arainment Tuesday. 1 p.m. Public Defender Dexter Grimes (attorney). Once Tiffany started her music again, I dialed four-one-one, got the number to Dexter’s office, and made the call. While waiting for him to answer, I looked around my room. It needed a makeover.

My CD collection was a quarter of Tiffany’s. Like her, I also collected stickers, but they were confined to my school binders and a library stuffed with paperbacks. Sweet Valley High and Goosebumps had to leave. I hadn’t even picked one up since sixth grade.

Were these the last books I read for pleasure?

The line clicked to voicemail.

“You reached Dexter Grimes from the public defender’s office…”

Shit, shit, shit, that wasn’t good. The arrest took place in less than three hours. The recording beeped and I realized I had no idea what I wanted to say.

“Hello, Mr. Grimes,” I began.

Tiffany knocked on my door and I jumped a mile high.

“What are you doing ?” she asked. I put my hand on the receiver.

“You are there ? .” I lowered my voice.

“Sorry, Mr. Grimes. I’m calling about a client of yours, Mr.—M. Manning Sutter. I have information about the night he got into trouble.

I took a break. What should I tell him? I needed to see what he already knew, to know if I could trust him.

“I can’t say it in a message, but it might help. Please, please call me back when you get it.

I hung up and immediately realized I hadn’t left a number. Or a name. My hand was sweating around the receiver. I wasn’t thinking clearly and I needed it. For Manning. I pressed redial, got up and paced around the room, back and forth, as far as the cord would allow.

“Hello, Mr. Grimes. I just left a message but forgot to give you my contact details. I am LAKE.

Like the lake.

I broke down. I haven’t presented myself like that since I was a child. “Lake Kaplan. When you call back, if I don’t answer, please don’t mention what it is. I live with my family and they can’t know I’m calling. But what I have to tell you is really important. I relayed my phone number twice and my name again.

I dropped the receiver into its cradle, collapsed onto my bed, and looked up at the ceiling. I practiced breathing with my diaphragm as if I were back on the field at USC. I tried to force myself to appreciate what I had around me like Gary had taught us to do. But Manning only grew in my mind. I had no idea about the indictments. My father would, but I couldn’t ask him. It had only been three days. Maybe that was good – I wanted Manning out of there – but it almost seemed too soon. Was an indictment the same as a trial, like the ones I had seen on TV shows? In class, we watched To Kill a Mockingbird last year. Some of my classmates had fallen asleep, the film in black and white, in slow motion, but if the trial scene had played out before my eyes, it would have been fast, with words intended to confuse. Overwhelming. My heart started racing just thinking about Manning in there all alone. Did he even know what to do during an arraignment? How could he, in just three days? If I had information that could help, shouldn’t I be there just in case he needed me?

I quickly stood up, went downstairs and found Tiffany in the kitchen. “We have to go to Big Bear,” I said.

She took her head out of the refrigerator. “What?”

“We have to drive there for the arraignment. Now.”

She took out a carton of orange juice. “Are you kidding? Dad would kill us.

“Then we won’t tell him anything.”

She raised a manicured eyebrow as she placed the OJ on the counter. “Wow. How long have you been lying to Dad?” she asked, unscrewing the cap. “That must really be important to you.” “You

said it yourself, Manning is on his own. He didn’t “No family. You told me,” I swallowed, “You said his sister was dead. So who’s there with him?

She took a glass from the cupboard, put it on the counter and looked at me. “No one, I guess. But he..” “What?” I asked. “Why are you so casual about it?” What has he ever done to you besides be nice? You said he was a gentleman.

“It was.”

“So? That’s not good enough for you?”

“He’s innocent,” she said, looking at the empty glass. “Why does it matter if we go?” They’re just going to release him.

I didn’t have time for that. I had to make a choice. Nothing would happen to Manning; he had done nothing. I had to believe him. But if there was even the slightest chance, he might turn around and look for me. . if he needed me to talk, and I wasn’t there. .

“GOOD.” I turned to leave the kitchen. “But I’ll take your car.”

“What” She followed me upstairs. “You don’t even know how to drive.”

“I know enough,” I said as I entered my room.

“You’re such a kid,” she said through the door.

I ignored her and put on the nicest sweater and pants I owned. I found a pair of pumps in my mother’s closet. They were a size too big, but I put them in my purse. By the time I brushed my hair and tried to put on some makeup, Tiffany was waiting downstairs by the front door.

“You will come?” I asked.

“He’s going to need a comeback anyway.” Like I would ever let you drive my car,” she said, opening the front door.

She looked annoyed, but I knew my sister well enough to recognize her look. She was as nervous as I was.