Must be a slow week, but I don’t argue with them. I think I will take the two hours. I have a lot to say. This is my time. My moment.
And then I will never speak of Aaron William Monroe in public again.
The sun broke through the wispy tendrils of fog right about the time we left the hotel. Its intense rays caressed my arms and warmed my hair and face as we headed west down the sidewalk, and I regretted wearing the bright red lifeguard sweatshirt Mom bought me last night at a gift shop. I’d begged her for it, pleading with big eyes and my hands together in mock prayer. She’d reluctantly agreed, griping about the price the entire time.
Despite my love for the outrageously red sweatshirt, it was bulky and would look really stupid if I tried to tie it around my waist.
But I was stuck with it.
The sky was this incredible blue that looked almost unnatural, like out of a painting. The wind was cool, bringing with it the scent of the ocean. Dampness lingered in the air, from both the Pacific and the fog, and I could feel it on my face, taking the edge off the heat of the sun. Pure, unfiltered joy seemed to wash over me and I couldn’t remember a time when I’d felt so excited.
Never again would I feel that same innocent excitement.
When we finally arrived, the boardwalk was as crowded as I’d ever seen it and the rides had only just opened. Immediately I launched in, begging Mom and Dad to let us go on our own, and I pulled out all the stops.
“Brenna gets to take off with her friends all the time!” The whine in my voice was unmistakable. I’d been pleading my case, claiming I was old enough and could handle it, but I sounded like a total baby.
“That’s because I’m fifteen, not a whiny little child like you,” Brenna said condescendingly, glancing over at her best friend, Emily, before they both started to crack up. I hated Brenna sometimes. Didn’t really like Emily much, either. They always picked on me. Made me feel dumb.
My best friend, Sarah, glared at the two of them along with me. We seriously didn’t need Brenna’s commentary to screw up what we wanted so desperately.
To hang out at the amusement park all day by ourselves, not having to tag along with Mom and Dad. Sarah and I were both turning thirteen next month, our birthdays only six days apart, and we were eager for a taste of independence.
“Sarah has her cellphone,” I continued, staring at Daddy, pleading with him with my eyes. I could see his gaze waver, the flicker of hesitation, and I needed to latch onto that quickly. “We’ll check in every hour, I swear.”
“I don’t know . . .”
Chancing a quick glance at Mom, I could see that she really wasn’t too big on the idea at all. She wasn’t the one I needed to convince, though.
Daddy was.
“Please. We can meet every two hours if you want. Get together for lunch. It’s only ten. We can meet at noon, right over there.” I pointed at the nearby food court. “Please, please, please.”
“We’ll be on our best behavior,” Sarah said solemnly, her expression serious. So serious I almost wanted to laugh.
But I held it all in. No way would I blow this, not when we were so close.
“No talking to strangers,” Daddy said, pointing at the both of us. I could tell he was this close to agreeing. He was such a softie. “And no leaving this boardwalk, not even to go to the beach.”
My heart threatened to burst from excitement. I knew we almost had him.
“Jim, really.” Mom’s voice was full of disbelief, but I ignored her. Something I’d grown quite good at doing the last few months. We hadn’t been getting along. She was always trying to tell me what to do. I was sick of it. Desperate for independence, wanting to forge my own way, not follow after her. What did she know about my life? Things had changed so much since she was a girl, I knew she couldn’t have a clue.
“Ah, come on, Liz. She’ll be fine,” Daddy reassured her before he turned his sunny smile on me. “We gotta let her go sometime, right?”
Mom sighed, and I heard the weariness in her tone. For whatever reason, she’d been stressed out lately. We were on vacation, so why couldn’t she just relax? “Call me at ten thirty and let me know where you’re at.”
Ten thirty? That was less than thirty minutes away. Talk about controlling. “Fine,” I conceded, acting all put out, but secretly I wanted to hop up and down. From the way Sarah was shifting from one foot to the other as she stood beside me, I could tell she felt the same.
We were so incredibly in sync with each other, Sarah and I took off running before they could change their minds.
“Don’t talk to strangers!” Daddy yelled after us, making us laugh.
“Unless they’re cute,” Sarah muttered, then she laughed even harder.