Chapter 17
Neal saw Fire Island as a tiny bit of sand, s*x and fluff bobbing far enough away from the city to give it an otherworldly vibe. People swam nude, had impromptu parties on the decks of their creaking plank houses, and late into the night a wooded area known as the “meat rack” stank of sweat, coconut oil and s*x. Sitting on the upper deck of the ferryboat from Sayville to the island, Neal followed the nose of the boat as it struck out into the blackness, steering straight into a broad tangle of summer stars. The boat churned through black water, sea foam splashing, a rising screech of crickets and tree frogs overwhelming any stray chatter. His group—Rovvie, Dewalt, Annie and her date Laird— were unusually quiet. They’d taken over the back section of the boat’s upper deck. Dewalt
