Chapter 243

Frampton University was the third school Amy and I traveled to in the new blue Mercedes Alex gave her for graduation.

I was now learning to drive, but I didn’t have my license yet. The green Mercedes Alex gave me was at the mansion, waiting for my next driving lesson.

We were visiting universities that interested us to tour the campuses before submitting our applications and fees.

As a wonderful surprise, Andrew Archer offered to pay Amy’s tuition and expenses at the college of her choice. The Archer family had signed over Archer Enterprises to him the day after the ball.

“I hope we get accepted by the same college,” I said. “It would be great to go to the same school.”

“As long as they have a good journalism program, I don't have a preference,” Amy said. She was going after her dream of being a reporter.

“I still think you should go with journalism for your major,” she added. “You would make a terrific reporter, too. You’ve been in front of the cameras lots of times recently.”

“I don’t think so,” I argued. “Reporting a news story isn’t the same as giving a press release or a statement. Who would watch me report a story?”

“Are you kidding?”Amy shouted. “The public loves you. You have a way of relaying information that makes people feel you believe in what you’re saying.”

“I don’t like to lie,” I said.

“Exactly. And that comes across when you speak to a crowd.” Amy put on her blinker to pull into the university parking lot. “Molding people’s opinions should be done by someone with integrity, like you.”

She sighed. “Just think about it, okay?”

“I will,” I said. “I’m glad you have time to tour campuses with me. Victor has been busy with Alex at the association lately.”

Amy pulled into a slot at the far end of the lot and parked. “I appreciate him and Alex writing me letters of recommendation for my applications. I need all the help I can get.”

“Your grades were always as good as mine,” I reminded her. “There’s no reason for you not to get into a good school.”

We got out of the Mercedes and headed for the quad.

“I can think of one reason,” she insisted. “So can you.”

I pushed my hair out of my eyes. “Your being a hybrid shouldn’t matter.”

“We will see,” she said. “This place is great. I love the old buildings surrounded by trees. It reminds me of an eighteenth-century village.”

A group of girls lounging on the grass under a tree waved and said hello as we passed them.

“The students here are friendly,” Amy said.

“Let’s go talk to the admissions administration,” I suggested. “I have more questions before I hand in any application.”

“You’ll need to decide on a major.” Amy reminded me.

“You know I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer,” I said. “I still feel the need to help Betas and Omegas. I’ve seen too much injustice toward them to forget about it.”

“Yeah, but becoming a journalist could help them more than being a lawyer,” Amy pointed out. “You could help Betas and Omegas by reporting on the things that matter to them.”

“You have my attention,” I said. Amy’s argument was making sense.

“Do you remember how many of the other kids at school volunteered to help elderly Betas after you gave the speech about how they needed help?”

“You’re right,” I declared. “I could make a difference as a reporter.”

We found the admissions administration in the Morefield Building. The staff was friendly and answered all my questions.

They gave Amy and me information packets with a website address that provided us the option to apply online.

We thanked them and left, taking another stroll around the campus on our way back to Amy’s car.

“I like this place,” I said while admiring a mosaic fountain in the center of the quad.

“Me too,” Amy agreed. “We should apply. Andy gave me a credit card I can use for application fees.”

Her stomach growled loud enough to make a nearby group of students giggle.

“Yeah, I skipped breakfast this morning,” she explained and laughed along with them.

“The diner on the other side of town has fantastic food,” one of the students told us. “Check it out.”

“Thanks, we will,” Amy called back. “Yeah, I like this place.”

“Me too,” I said. “Let’s stop at the diner for a bite on the way home.”

We climbed into her car and drove to the diner called Edgar’s Eats. After parking in the gravel lot, the drab, worn exterior almost changed our minds about going inside to eat.

“It doesn’t look like much, but those girls told us the food is good here,” Amy said as we hesitated getting out of her car. “We should give it a chance.”

“Let’s go inside,” I said. “We can always leave if it looks iffy in there.”

We were glad we decided to stay. The interior was newly remodeled and spotlessly clean. The air smelled like burgers, fries, and marinara sauce. My mouth began to water as soon as we walked in the door.

“Let’s sit at the counter,” I suggested since most of the booths were occupied.

As soon as we sat on two of the red plastic revolving stools that lined the counter, we were approached by a waitress.

She was about our age, pretty and petite, with brown hair and eyes. Her name tag identified her as Carly.

“What can I get you girls today?” Carly asked.

I glanced at the menu and ordered a burger, fries, and a cola. Amy wanted the same. The place reminded us of the diner we used to eat near the school, and good memories flooded our minds.

“I miss those days at the other diner, but I’m glad to be where and who I am now,” I said.

“It was a rough journey for you, going from being a Beta foster child to a wealthy Alpha’s daughter,” Amy agreed. “But everything turned out great.”

I put a straw into the soda the waitress brought to me.“The hard stuff was worth it. I’m happy, happier than I ever thought I’d be. Victor works almost every day right now, but we’re together weekends and evenings and sometimes all night.”

“Justin wants to apply at whatever college accepts me,” Amy said. “But as long as we’re together in the evening like you and Victor, I don’t think it matters.”

“It's nice of Andy to pay for your tuition. He seems like a good person.”

We stopped talking as the waitress placed our orders in front of us and told us to ‘give her a holler’ if we needed anything else. After she left, we picked up our conversation.

“Andy came by the restaurant last night, and we ate dinner in the kitchen together.” Amy reached for the ketchup. “I want to ask him more questions about Deirdre, but he always looks so sad whenever I bring her up.”

I took the ketchup from Amy. “That’s such a pretty name, but I looked up its meaning online. Deirdre means broken-hearted or sorrowful.”

“Deirdre didn’t look broken-hearted in the photo Andy gave me.” Amy picked up her burger. “She looked truly happy. It’s weird. I look like her, but I can’t believe she’s my mother.”

While Amy and I ate and talked, I noticed a man on Amy’s other side, watching us closely. He seemed to be listening in on our conversation.

After we finished eating, I paid the bill. Amy left a tip, and we headed for the exit. While I was getting into the car, I noticed the same man climbing into an ancient pickup truck in the next row of cars.

I slipped into the Mercedes and told Amy to lock the doors.

“Why? What’s wrong?” she asked.

“A man was watching us while we were eating,” I said. He left his pie and coffee to follow us out the door.” I pointed to the pickup. “I think he’s waiting for us to leave.”

“Just what we were missing in our lives: a stalker,” Amy growled.

“Don’t panic yet,” I said. “Pull out of the lot and see if he follows us.”

“But when Amy pulled out of the parking lot, the pickup was right behind us.

“Maybe it’s a coincidence,” Amy said. “He might live in this direction.”

“Maybe,” I said. “You drive, and I’ll keep an eye on him.”

We stayed calm as Amy turned down another road and then merged into traffic on the highway. But the man was no further than two cars behind us all the way into the city.