Sorta Like a Rock Star(67)

When the prom is over, we put Das Boot into the Fox van, hop into our limo, and drive to Ty’s parents’ beach house in Long Beach Island, or LBI. Mr. Fox follows us down with Das Boot, because he is a good dad.

Ty’s parents’ house is actually right on the beach, so after we get Das Boot into the house and Mr. Fox leaves, we put Chad in a backpack and hit the sand to do some stargazing.

Barefoot, but still in our tuxedos and dresses, we run along the edge of the ocean, the water licking our ankles—laughing and singing like the kids we are.

Somehow we decide to spend the entire night on the beach so we can see the sunrise.

We pick out a spot in front of Ty’s parents’ house.

We lie down on the sand making this big pile of teenagers.

We look up into the universe, and we get pretty quiet as we marvel.

Everyone falls asleep except me.

I think about my mom.

I get up and cry a little down by the ocean, so that the others won’t hear.

After a few minutes, Ty appears and puts his arm around me—in a brotherly sorta way.

When I turn around surprised, he holds me, I sob into his overly starched tuxedo shirt, and his friendship beard scratches my forehead.

Hours later, the sun comes up.

Ty and I are simply sitting together on a sand dune.

When The Five finds us, I snap out of my sadness and yell, “I’m making breakfast!”

And then in Ty’s parents’ beach house, I make killer omelets for everyone.





CHAPTER 59





By doing some Internet research, I learn that you have to fill out a visitor’s application and get it approved before you will be allowed to visit any prisoner in a maximum-security facility. There are these rules you have to read and agree to follow with a signature. If you are not eighteen you need to have a guardian sign the forms as well, and since I don’t want Donna or anyone else to know that I am going to visit my mother’s killer, I wait until my eighteenth birthday to fill out the form and send it in—which I do after the barbeque party Donna throws for me in the backyard.

My eighteenth b-day party is sorta a big thing, as Old Man Linder, Old Man Thompson, and some old people from the home come, The KDFCs bring their families along with FC, the Franks family shows, The Five are, of course, there along with many of my fellow CPHS classmates, Prince Tony, and Mrs. Baxter—and even PJ and Ms. Jenny show up, which is sorta cool, because in a sexy summer dress, Donna flirts with PJ and he doesn’t leave early. Sister Lucy and The Hard-Working Brothers do an encore outdoor performance with The Korean Divas for Christ, which rocks hard-core, and brings the neighbors out of their houses and into our backyard. I am embarrassed by the many super-cool presents. And later that night, after everyone has left, I fill out the visiting-prison form and drop it in the mail—which is my birthday present to myself.

My mother’s killer has to agree to see me as well, and I worry that he’ll refuse.

I also worry about Donna getting the reply letter, so every day I sneak away from my summer job at Rita’s water ice when the mail is delivered at two, just so Donna won’t intercept the letter from the prison.

After a few weeks of waiting, I get a very official response.

The letter states a date and time.

I am granted a fifteen-minute non-contact visit—meaning we will be separated by Plexiglas, which is just fine with me.

I’ll only need five minutes with my mother’s killer, so I’m cool.

The day before the non-contact visit, I call Ty and ask him if he will ditch work at one of his dad’s bank branches—where he does his summer nine-to-five as a drive-thru bank teller. I ask if he’ll take me somewhere secret, and promise never to tell anyone about it for as long as he lives, and in exchange, I’ll finally go to Friendly’s with him just like old times, so he can finally shave off his friendship beard. We still haven’t been to Friendly’s since my mom died.

“What time do I pick you up?”

“Eight AM. And make sure you have a full tank of gas.”

“Cool.”

The next morning I call my boss at Rita’s and tell him I am having woman problems so he won’t ask any questions, and he doesn’t.

Bearded Ty shows up right on time, I jump into his Volvo station wagon, and he says, “Where we headed?”

“Get on the turnpike and go north.”

“Cool,” Ty says, and then we are off.

I give him directions for almost two hours, and when we pull into the parking lot of the maximum-security prison, he says, “Um, Amber. What the hell are we doing here?”

“I have a non-contact visit scheduled with my mom’s killer.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I need to face him and then move on.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Trust me.”

“Amber, um—”

“Just wait here, okay? I’ll be back in less than an hour.”

“I don’t like this,” Ty says, and I notice that his friendship beard is almost six inches long now. It has to go—and soon.

“Get ready to lose that beard,” I say, and then walk across the parking lot.

Ty yells my name from his car a few times, but he doesn’t follow me into the prison.