The Last Summer Girl: A Coming of Age Love Story

by S. C. York

  Eva pulls over and parallel parks behind a black Range Rover with Massachusetts plates.

  My gut’s churning but I follow dumbly behind her. She stops in front of a gated driveway and waits for me. The long drive full with expensive cars leads to a fortress. The Georgian Colonial’s made of brick, lush emerald ivy climbs the high walls, and at this point I know I’ve been had.

  “Eva! What the fuck is this?” I hiss.

  She doesn’t answer.

  She walks up the driveway and instead of going to the front door, she walks to a gated arbor on the side of the house.

  Mom’s right. The Fosters’ love their gates.

  I follow Eva reluctantly. Crossing my arms over my chest, I trudge along the garden path beyond the gate, passing through to the world I never thought I’d enter.

  She’s there, regal and stunning. The Majesty’s docked leaving no doubt her royals are here. My feet fill with concrete, refusing to move any farther.

  “You’re a real bitch, Eva.”

  She’s leaning against the wrought iron fence, staring at Blake’s yacht longingly. She whips her head so fast I think her neck might’ve snapped. For me to curse at her takes a lot.

  “How could you ambush me like this?” I’m horrified by my best friend right now.

  She finally turns her gaze from the white beauty and faces me.

  “Nessa, I’m sorry. I knew you would’ve freaked if I told you.”

  “No shit!” I spit at her.

  “Blake is my boss’s son. I can’t be rude to him. When he called to invite me, he made it quite clear that I was to bring you!”

  “Why? So I can be another summer fling? I told you about the crap Ryan pulled on our date. Do you know how humiliated I was when he came to the front desk, checking out of the room he planned to seduce me in?”

  “You had to work today?” She kicks off the fence intrigued.

  “Yes. I had to work for a few hours earlier this morning before I went to the beach, the Inn was short-handed. It was a madhouse and was beyond awkward when Ryan waltzed in and pressed the key into my hand. My boss was there; I pretended not to know him and asked how his stay was! He replied that he wouldn’t know since he paid for a room he never walked into. I hate you!”

  She laughs at me. I can’t believe she’s finding this funny.

  “Vanessa, calm down. Blake called me earlier. He said Ryan’s been acting moon sick over you. He came back to the boat upset at how your date ended last night. Going on and on about how he screwed up. If he’s a dick again, we’re out. I promise.”

  “Yeah, he’s moon sick, alright,” I mutter. But I let her lead me into the party anyway.

  I don’t recognize a single face. But I hear low voices and catch a few whispered words from a group of girls.

  “Which one is she?” I don’t look back to see if they are referring to Eva or me.

  We reach a stone patio with a footprint larger than my entire house. I stare stupidly at the outdoor fireplace, pizza oven and fully equipped outdoor kitchen covered by a pergola. A full bar is set up with a bartender mixing drinks. The Foster’s version of a barbecue resembles a wedding reception. The only thing missing is a band and cake. Grabbing a few Corona Lights from the bag Eva brought, I feel like a redneck in my denim cut-offs and tank. I take a slow sip of my beer debating whether to make a plate of food.

  “Look at those two townie girls chugging Coronas. Do you see that one’s outfit? Where does she shop, Boutique a la Target?”

  “It’s Walmart’s new summer line,” I reply dryly, refusing to turn around and dignify the group of girls behind me.

  “Good one,” Eva says, staring over my shoulder, her eyes narrowing.

  High-pitched giggles follow the exchange. I decide to see what we’re up against and turn around.

  She’s a living, breathing Barbie doll. Her platinum blonde hair is sleek and straight, falling in a glossy sheen to her bare, tanned shoulders. Her face is decked out in full makeup with hot pink gloss on perfect bow lips.

  She must have filler.

  The smell of Chanel No. 5 hangs in the air around her. I find it repugnantly overpowering for the humid summer night. A hot pink and green print dress hugs her trim body.

  Catching me admiring the dress, she smirks, “It’s vintage Lilly Pulitzer, way out of your price range. In fact, this whole scene is out of your league. You and your friend need to crawl back to whatever summer shack you’re from. And don’t forget to take your low-class Coronas with you.” She finishes with a kiss to her finger and points to the gate.

  I stare into her beautiful but cold, sky blue eyes, hardly surprised. Before I can even come up with a reply to her verbal attack, Eva clumsily trips on the flagstone patio. Her beer sloshes onto Barbie’s vintage dress.

  “Oopsie,” she laughs, miraculously regaining her balance. “Please excuse me. A few sips of beer goes right to that low-class head of mine.”

  “You fat troll!” Barbie screeches as her friends rush to her side. She takes the napkins thrust at her and frantically dabs the dress.

  “Blaire, calm down. I’ll have the bartender mix you another drink, play nice with my new friends.” Blake appears from behind me, signaling the bartender with a flick of his wrist. His sharp eyes study me as if searching for something. He shrugs and opens his arms wide, “Ladies, welcome to my world. I’m glad you could make it.”

  “Come on. I was conned into coming. But don’t worry, your friends have been so welcoming,” I say, glaring at him.

  He gives an apologetic shrug,“Forget Blaire. She’s just pissed that Ryan’s done with her.”

  My eyebrows rise at this. I’ve been discreetly searching for him. But so far there’s no sign of him anywhere.

  Blake guides us by the elbows, steering us away from Blaire. He’s escorting us toward the deep-water dock, and we pass a group of guys all staring at their phones and snickering. I don’t recognize any of them, but then again, why would I? They’re all the same sort as Blake, just not as infamous.

  Eva’s studying him out of the corner of her eye. He’s totally hot in a blush-colored Vineyard Vines shirt with the sleeves rolled up and wearing white seersucker pants. With his ash-blond hair slicked back, he’s a walking Ralph Lauren ad. I don’t go for pretty boys, but Eva has a look on her face I’ve never seen. Pure adoration.

  This is going to be trouble.

  Stressed-out, booms from the speakers on Her Majesty. Eva shakes her hips to the beat, snaring Blake’s attention. I hang back, conflicted. I wanted to be here, part of all of this two days ago when I had that fleeting moment of longing on the beach. Then I stumbled, and I still feel like I haven’t recovered from the fall.

  “Chica, relax. Let’s have fun.”

  The deep bass coming from the boat vibrates through the planks on the dock. I close my eyes and let the music in. My love for song matches my love of books, and I can’t help but grin and belt out the chorus with her.

  My apprehension fades. It also doesn’t hurt that Blaire and her friends are still talking to a few preppy boys by the pool. They ignore us, glued to their phones. Maybe they’re all posting to a thousand ghost followers about the impressiveness of their lives.

  The song ends and Blake starts walking to the stern of the yacht, “Come meet my queen.”

  I shrug my shoulders and follow. “Permission to board, Captain King?” I ask, batting my eyes at him.

  “Ryan’s right, you are goofy.”

  He just confirmed my suspicion that they’ve been talking about me.

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Captain King?

  “Well, if Her Majesty’s your queen, that makes you the king of Mystic.”

  “King of Mystic, huh?”

  “As if you didn’t know the nickname everyone in town calls you by,” I say, slapping him on the arm. He smiles, and I can tell I’m dealing with another man with a huge ego, this one just has a nicer heart.

  “My life’s complete. I have finally b
een invited to one of Blake Foster’s legendary parties,” I tell him. Pretending to swoon, I force him to catch me.

  “This little get-together is nothing, sweetheart. The two of you need to spend a weekend aboard. We could take a quick trip out to the Hamptons?”

  “Yeah, right, I need to go home and start packing my Louis Vuitton bag.” Blake looks at me like I’m insane.

  “Blake, you don’t mix much with working girls, huh?”

  “Depends on the type of working girl you mean, sweetheart.” Eva freezes not sure if he’s serious or not.

  “Oh, God, a pretty boy like you? I’ll never believe it.” I tell him, giving him a slap on the arm. Laughing with Blake, I finally notice Eva’s hanging back, looking like I just kicked her kitten. Guess she didn’t mean flirt with Blake when she told me to loosen up.

  “Come on, ladies, let me show you the only woman I’ll ever love,” Blake says leading us aboard. “Take your shoes off, ladies, none allowed on deck.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Bending down, I do his bidding and slip off my sandals. Standing up, I freeze. My eyes lock with my hot nemesis. His gaze is cutting, direct, and dark. My heart pounds rapidly but my cheeks turn red with anger. He makes me feel dueling emotions and I tell my heart to hold the line.

  I’m still furious at his behavior from last night. The information TJ told me about Nanny Night, more fuel for my fire. But somehow I manage to hold my voice steady.

  “Hello, Ryan, what’s up with the plotting to get me here? Please tell me you’re not still dreaming about my ass again? It’s freaking me out and I need you to stop.”

  He completely ignores my words, looking pissed.

  What the hell gives him the right to be mad? Jerk.

  His white collared shirt’s rolled to his elbows and unbuttoned. He’s wearing pink golf shorts, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass of whiskey. He casually leans on the deck railing looking past me.

  “Pink shorts? They look cute. Maybe I should buy a pair for my dad?” I say sarcastically.

  He doesn’t take the bait, but copies my perusal of him from two nights earlier. Slowly checking out my legs then eyeing up the rest of my body.

  I flush at the unabashed carnal gleam in his eyes as he finishes and looks me in the face. He tips his glass to his lips without taking his eyes off me.

  Staring back defiantly, I stiffen my spine.

  Blake clears his throat and breaks the stare down contest. He grabs my elbow and tries to turn me away. The spell’s broken but the tension remains.

  Ryan lifts an eyebrow at Blake’s hand on my arm. But Blake’s not intimidated by him at all. Why would he be? These two alpha males can each hold their own.

  “Come on, ladies, I promised you a tour.”

  We follow him up to the main deck, where dark, privacy glass doors slide open. Cold air rushes out and blasts my heated skin. Looking over my shoulder, I see he’s made no move to join us. Blake gestures for us to sit on the plush white sofa. His phone vibrates loudly, distracting him.

  My reflection stares back at me from the polished teak floors. The initial adrenaline rush that surged through my blood has vanished, leaving me in withdrawal. That crazy, hot man is a drug that’s shocked my system, and I never knew he existed forty-eight hours ago.

  This is the worst tour ever; I scan the luxurious interior of the main cabin. A huge plasma TV and a full-size bar dominate the room. Eva’s making herself a drink while Blake still stares at his phone.

  “What’s up with everyone’s fixation with their phones tonight? Did another celebrity overdose or something?”

  Blake snaps his head up. His face is drawn tight over his cheekbones.

  Whoa, this is one pissed alpha male.

  He slides his phone back into his pocket. “Ladies, I’ll be right back,” he presses the button that opens the door and jogs down the gangplank only stopping to have a rapid fire conversation with Ryan.

  I jump when Ryan slams his palm against the railing and yells, “Son of a bitch.” His voice carries through the fiberglass as if he was an inch away.

  “Eva, this is so awkward. Let’s go.”

  “Relax, Ness. We just got here. Do you want to go into town where we run the risk of running into your ex?”

  “Good point. But something’s going on.” Crossing the floor I join her at the bar. She just shrugs, “It’s nothing to do with us. Let Blake handle it.”

  My phone vibrates from the back pocket of my shorts, causing me to jump unexpectedly. I forgot I had it there. TJ’s name flashes across the screen. I swipe my thumb across and his frantic voice fills my ear.

  “Nessa, there’s a pic of your ass all over Facebook. Unless, you’ve been taking naked selfies, it’s from the beach concert. Some guy named Carter posted it to Blake’s wall with a caption that says, ‘Beach Bum. I’m sorry, it’s not flattering. On the bright side, no one will know it’s you since you face planted in the Zodiac.”

  My body shakes. I can’t stop shaking. Grabbing my head in my hands, I sink to the floor, stunned by what he’s just told me. As it sinks in, I struggle to breathe for a minute.

  Eva runs over and grabs the phone.TJ fills her in. Frantically, she opens her Facebook app.

  “Sweetie, don’t look.” I grab at her legs, using her body as an anchor to help me stand. I try to read the phone over her shoulder.

  “I need to see it. I want to know how bad it is.”

  The picture’s very clear. My dress is bunched up to my waist. My bare butt hoisted in the air. It’s the moment I cracked my head and flashed the world my thong. Before Eva can swipe the screen, I read the first comments.

  Trashy Townie Girl crashes the concert.

  Who is that dumb blonde? Bet she likes it in the a**!

  I’d drill that trashy townie any day.

  Mortified, I drop to the floor hugging my knees. Fat tears roll down my cheeks. The comments cut through me, like a million razor blades. No one’s ever made me feel so violated or humiliated.

  Scared and disgusted, I curl up into a ball on the cold floor.

  “I want to go home, Eva.”

  “Okay, but we should stay inside here a little longer.”

  I peer up at her through my wet lashes. She’s staring out the starboard window.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Blake and Ryan are screaming at a group of guys. Ryan’s forcing them to hand over their phones. Smart, these must be the group of guys from the concert. Our heroes will get to the bottom of this. The entire post can be deleted.”

  “Ryan’s not my hero. Even if they know who did it, it’s too late. By now, the whole town has seen it. Blake has thousands of Facebook friends. There’s bound to be a screen shot on Twitter and Instagram, and that can’t be changed.”

  Eva turns away from the window. She kneels and puts her arms around me as I continue to cry softly.

  After a while, the glass door opens. Ryan’s beside me in a heartbeat. Eva releases me, and he takes her place.

  He pulls back to wipe my tears with his index finger, then brushes my hair back to inspect my forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me last night that you had a concussion from the night before? You should never have been working yesterday much less going out on a date with me. It’s been a rough few days for you, Vanessa.” He finishes and kisses my bruise softly while breathing in the scent of my hair.

  I stare incredulously at him.

  “Who are you, jackass or white knight? I can’t keep up.”

  “Your hero, I fixed this. Blake and I took all their phones and deleted any pictures of you. We wiped out the Facebook post. It was Carter, Blaire’s brother. He was behind the whole thing. That little shit! I promise you, Vanessa, they will pay for this.”

  He searches my face and gently wipes my tears one more time. It’s obvious he’s angry at how upset I am.

  “Thank you. I wish you had the power to erase that entire night. It’s awful how one mistake, one bad move ca
n lead to all this.”

  “Don’t say that, Vanessa. If you erased that night, I would’ve never met you.”

  I’m stunned and confused by his romantic sentiment, and I pull away from his embrace needing some distance.

  “Let’s go, Ryan,” Blake nudges him and they walk out.

  “Where are you going?” Eva asks.

  “To finish this,” Ryan replies.

  “What a mess,” Eva sits down next to me. She rubs my back and I try to regain my composure.

  Checking my phone, I confirm my ass is deleted from cyberspace. Feeling protected inside the Majesty I cross to the couch and perch on my knees, looking out the window. Ryan’s speaking with Blaire and her friends on the dock. He looks like a dangerous man, frozen and unmoved by her. She places her hands on his arms, gazing up at him, pleadingly. He steps back and crosses his arms, scowling down at the petite princess.

  The whole scene makes me sick, these spoiled rich kids who live on this side of the bridge, think nothing of screwing with my life. They are the real trash.

  My nose presses against the glass, leaving a smudge. “We’re stuck. I don’t want to go home, and there’s no way I can’t go out there.”

  “I understand. Let me make you a drink and we’ll take our own tour. I’m sure Blake won’t mind if we peek around. We should let things die down, Ryan seems determined to handle this for you. If anyone can get your bum removed from Facebook, it’d be him. Hell, he might even know some Facebook people from his Harvard days.”

  “Doubtful, I can’t believe you tricked me into coming here tonight. I hate you right now.”

  “I’m sorry, Vanessa. I had no clue about any of this. Do you want me to go out there and kick some ass for you? I’ve got my four-inch heels outside; I could get a few stabs in.”

  I rest my chin on my hands, “You’d do it, too. Can you imagine the look on my mom’s face when she gets the call to bail us out?”

  “Hell no, Blake’s paying that bill.” We both giggle hysterically.

  “How do these things happen to me? I ask. She shrugs and hands me a glass of wine.

  “Beats me, come on. Let’s look around. I overheard a conversation at work that Blake had this yacht custom made, and it cost him ten million.”