The Last Summer Girl: A Coming of Age Love Story

by S. C. York

  “Have a great rest of the summer, Martha. I’ll see you next year,” I tell her warmly, going around the counter to give her a quick hug. She’s still mumbling about world events when I wave goodbye.

  I sit down on a bench next to Ryan and he hands me a bottle of water and tries to take my fudge.

  “No, no! I’m saving this for when I get home. I only share my sweets with my dad, it’s become a small tradition of ours.”

  His face falls, and I mentally kick myself for bringing up my father when he doesn’t have a relationship with his.

  “Sorry, Ry,” I shrug not knowing what else to say.

  “That’s okay you can make it up to me later. Come on, let’s go.” He takes my hand again and leads me across Chapel Street under a small arch that cuts through to Water Street next to The National Hotel. I’m looking at the busy wharf where I arrived two days ago. Glancing at the handsome man by my side, I feel incredibly lucky at the turn of events.

  He ducks into a souvenir shop and browses through all the knick-knacks. Finally, he picks up a ceramic lighthouse figurine, “This is Southeast Light, I’m buying two, so we can always remember our time here together.”

  “Thank you, I’ll never forget this weekend.” He pays for them, and we walk back toward the beach where we left the Zodiac. In a few hours it’s back to reality for me.

  Stepping out of my sweat-soaked clothes, I step into the opulent shower in Ryan’s stateroom. The shower is made of three sides of glass and along the back wall is a small alcove with a bench, above it a stunning piece of art. A beautiful mermaid with titian hair reclines topless on a rock. She stares at me with slanted, iris eyes. Bright turquoise tile covers the lower three feet of the wall, like the Mediterranean ocean beneath her. Shaking my head at the artwork, it figures only Blake would have picked the stateroom with a gaudy naked mermaid in the bathroom shower made from stone mosaic tile.

  I push a button on the wall and sigh when water from the rain head pours over my back. I hear the glass door open behind me. A large tan hand wraps around my waist, another pulls my heavy wet hair aside, I feel his teeth next, taking a nip from the side of my neck. He pushes his hips into mine and grabs the bottle of BVLGARI shower gel, the smell of it alone turns me on.

  Ryan fills his hands with the gel and lathers up and down my body. I can’t move, I’m frozen. My senses overload with the feel of his hands on my skin combined with the heady fragrance of the luxury brand of soap. He turns me around to face him, and my skin slides effortlessly against his, slick with suds. I reach up pulling his head down, my lips grab at his, my tongue sliding in his mouth. He grabs my right thigh, hooking it around his leg. One arm reaches behind my head to support us, his other kneads my left breast. He bends down taking a nipple into his mouth sucking on it. Groaning, I grind myself into his hard body.

  “God, baby, I want you so much.”

  “I’m burning for you,” I answer. He then puts me down and turns me around to face the wall, I put one knee on the bench to support myself, locking eyes with the flame-haired mermaid as he enters me from behind. I rest my hand on her hair, bracing myself on the smooth stone as he pumps in and out of me. She stares back at me as if she knows, this seductress of the sea, what the power of ecstasy can do. Moaning against the tiles, I mentally tell her to shut up, my lips almost kissing hers, as I come.

  “When will I see you again?” I ask as we towel off together.

  “Next weekend. I can be in Mystic by seven, maybe we can do over our dinner date?”

  “I’d love that, but what about Blake? Is he okay with you staying with him all the time?”

  “Vanessa, he’s like family. I promise you, he won’t mind if you move into the Stonington house for the summer.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” I reply teasingly. “I’m going to check in with Eva and see if she’s ready to go home.”

  “Alright, I need to look over some documents for work. I’ll be up on the bridge with Blake, come find me when you’re ready and I’ll take you back to shore.”

  I throw on my denim shorts and a t-shirt and reluctantly pack up my things. Ryan kisses me when I leave to check-in on Eva.

  Knocking lightly on the door to the master stateroom, I slowly turn the brass handle. A modern, king-size bed sits front and center, the sheets rumpled, and the pillows are thrown to the floor. Stepping over strewn clothing, I make my way to the bathroom where Eva’s blow drying her hair, a plush terry towel wrapped around her curves.

  “Hey, girlie, what’s going on?” she says shutting off the hairdryer.

  “Did you and Blake have an argument?” I ask, climbing up on the white marble counter and sitting.

  “No. Why would you ask that?”

  “When I saw him up on deck this morning, he was a little abrupt, telling me that we had to get off the yacht soon to catch a ferry back home.”

  “So? The Majesty isn’t our personal charter, Nessa.”

  “I know, but after this weekend, aren’t you a little hurt?”

  “Chica, Blake’s been very sweet to me. He told me last night he wants to be exclusive, and see where this leads.”

  “Isn’t that a little fast?”

  “Chica, are you serious? Did you not just do the same thing with Ryan? At least I’ve seen Blake everyday at work for months. Comprende?”

  “Point taken. I’m happy for you Eva. I hope Blake knows how lucky he is to have a girl like you.” Getting off the counter, I give her a tight hug, “Hurry up and get some clothes on, I’m starving, and brunch is ready. At least Blake’ s willing to feed us before he dumps us back on Block.”

  “Shut up,” Eva replies smacking me on the butt with her hair brush.

  “Bye, sweetheart,” Ryan kisses the top of my head, holding me tight. I approach the dock worker, handing her my ticket. I’m so forlorn that this weekend is over and it’s time to board the ferry home. I pause, holding up the line of about a hundred people behind me. I turn to Ryan, throwing myself tighter into his embrace.

  “I don’t want to leave you,” I murmur in his ear.

  “It’s okay, Vanessa, next weekend will be here before you know it.”

  He moves back and lets me go. But I can’t bear this. Dammit, Eva is right, I always fall too fast and this time is no different. I grab his hand, not caring at the annoyed glances from the group of people behind me. All I want is one more kiss.

  I thrust my tongue in and out of his mouth while raking my nails into the hair behind his head. He hoists me off the ground, and I wrap my legs around him, digging them into his back.

  “Get a room,” someone in the crowd hollers, more voices chime in hooting and whistling.

  “Honey, you’re holding up the line!”

  “Mama, why is the lady putting her tongue in that man’s mouth?”

  “Shhh, honey don’t look at them, look at those pretty boats over there.”

  I hear the same woman scream, “Stop traumatizing my five-year-old. Block is still a family place, get some dignity!”

  I let Ryan’s tongue go with one last suck. Still wrapped around him, I eye the angry mom over his shoulder, “Sorry, ma’am, but he’s just too good to resist.”

  Still glaring at me she responds, “Well, if my husband looked like that, I’d probably be pregnant all the time!”

  The crowded line laughs hysterically and I guess I’m forgiven for making them all wait. A crew member from ferry walks down the line and hisses at me, “Nice show. Now board.” She inspects my ticket stub and ushers me through. I reluctantly put one foot in front of the other but my head is looking over my shoulder at Ryan. He’s standing on the other side of the thick rope, separating us from the rest of the wharf. His baby pink golf tee’s collar is popped up and his lips are still wet from my kiss. His hands are fisted in the front pockets of his navy-blue cargo shorts. He looks at me across the swell of people now between us, “I’ll see you next weekend!”

  With his dark hair blowing across his forehead and curling at his n
eck, and eyes just as dark, he looks every inch a man who could keep a girl pregnant all the time, yikes.

  “Come on, Vanessa,” TJ grabs my right elbow and pulls me away. He doesn’t let go until I’ve walked up the ramp and have both feet on the ferry. Eva doesn’t say a thing. I can tell she’s disappointed that Blake didn’t see her off, choosing to stay aboard the Majesty. But she’d die before ever admitting it.

  The Jessica W’s engines start up and she blows her horn. I stand at the aft rail, and stare at Block Island until it disappears on the horizon. The ferry flies across the Long Island Sound toward New London Harbor but I know I left a bigger piece of my heart behind this year.

  Tomorrow, I’ll be back behind the front desk, daydreaming of all the memories we made here. The lighthouse figurine Ryan gave me is tucked inside the front pocket of my hoodie. I reach inside and hold it in my palm.

  “Nessa, what’s up with you and Ryan?” TJ asks. His Ray-Ban aviators shield his eyes, but the tone of his voice seems off.

  “He was amazing, TJ. Incredibly sweet and sensitive. Completely opposite from how he was when we first met.”

  “Are you two like together, then?”

  “Uh, I guess so? I hope so, we didn’t really discuss it.”

  “How convenient.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Nothing. It’s just—Blake and I had a few talks up on the bridge while navigating the Majesty. He seems to think Ryan isn’t that serious about being in a relationship right now. He mentioned something about Ryan being up for some big promotion at work and that he’s been pretty focused on that.”

  “So? I’m hardly in the way of his job, we live two hours apart.”

  “Exactly. Remember what Sean did? Ryan could have a girl in Boston and you as his summer weekend girl. I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

  “I don’t think he would do that to me. We connected this weekend. He opened up to me about some very private things. He was so sweet and playful, but in bed he was—”

  Ripping off his sunglasses, his eyes glare at me incredulously, “What? You slept with him? Nessa, you idiot! Guess who he fucked after you walked out on him at S&P that night? He called up Blaire, yep, banged her all night in the same cabin he just had you.

  The next night when you and Eva went over to the Borough and Carter posted that pic of you online, it was payback for Ryan ditching her to hang out with you. Blake spent the night consoling her, naked in the hot tub. He told me all about it. Eva was just the next one he had there.”

  Holy shit, What the fuck?

  Hot tears run down my face and my throat’s closing. I try to calm down, but it’s too late. I gasp, gulping big breaths, but I’m still not getting any air.

  Panicked and scared at the thought I’m being played again, I rush to the stern of the top deck, dry heaving over the side.

  “Vanessa? Are you okay? Do you have your pills?”

  Eva rushes up to me and holds the hair back from my face as it rips in the wind. I’m not able to answer, too focused on breathing in and out.

  After five minutes, I’m trembling but I’m able to rasp a few words out, “It’s just—TJ said some things, and I got upset.”

  Turning back from the rail, I’m stunned when Eva marches over to TJ and gets in his face. “What the fuck, TJ? Can’t you just leave her alone? She hasn’t had a panic attack in six months, what the hell did you say to her?”

  “The hard truth.”

  “What’s that? TJ, I’m sorry your weekend fling was a dud, but back the hell off of her!”

  “That’s the whole point, Eva, the two of you were just another weekend fling. Don’t kid yourselves. Do you know how many girls Blake and Ryan have been seen with at the yacht club? I’ve heard them myself chatting away about their own magical weekends on the Majesty.

  “Look at the two of you, so easily charmed by the same bullshit Blake and Ryan always play. I thought you both were better than that.” He storms inside the cabin of the ferry, slamming the door.

  “Fuck,” I say when I’m finally able to talk. Looking down I notice a speck of blood on my sandal. Confused for a second, I realize what happened when I feel the stickiness inside my hand. Opening my palm, the lighthouse figurine lays broken. A small jagged cut bleeds where the pointed tip of the lighthouse dug in. Just when I thought I had gotten off the roller coaster ride, I realize he had me on it the whole time.

  “Earth to Vanessa, are you going to answer that?” I stare blankly at Anna. She rolls her eyes at me, reaching across to pick up the reservations line. I’m a complete mess today. The rest of the ferry ride back last night was a complete blur. I mumbled hello to my parents, then shut myself in my room for the remainder of the night. Ryan called and texted me, but I felt too raw in my pain and humiliation to answer them.

  I’m on my third cup of coffee but my eyes still feel heavy. My body’s sluggish and slow. I finger a limp lock of hair that hangs dully over my shoulder. I’m disgusted at myself for falling apart so quickly. I was in such as funk this morning that I forgot to shower. I haven’t showered since being with Ryan on The Majesty since I cried myself to sleep last night.

  I choke back a few tears and scramble inside the back office, before any guests witness the state I’m in. Anna finishes a call and stands in the doorway staring at me with a look of pity and anger.

  “It’s him, isn’t it?”

  I nod my head and cry softly into my hands.

  “Well, I did warn you.”

  I cry harder.

  “What did he do?” Her arms are crossed and she’s not budging.

  “I don’t, I can’t—talk about it. No offense, Anna, but I just can’t, especially to you.”

  She hands me a box of tissues and walks out, doing the work I should be handling. My phone rings in my purse and I open my bag. It’s him. Again. I swipe the screen sending him to voicemail. I only have two more hours until my shift’s over. I can do this. Fixing my makeup and brushing my hair back into a ponytail, I do the best I can with the hot mess I’ve become.

  There’s a small line of guests waiting for help and I dive right in. “Right here on the map is the Mystic Seaport. It’s just a short walk down Holmes Street, which is right out front by the flag pole,” I take my pen and put a star on the tourist map marking the couple’s destination.

  A sudden screeching of tires interrupts my train of thought as a car door slams amid honking horns outside the front entrance. Snapping my head up to see what caused all the commotion, the front door slams open.

  Ryan stalks inside wearing a charcoal gray suit and white pressed shirt. He’s every inch the boardroom tycoon. He doesn’t say a word, but the air around him radiates with anger.

  “I think I’m going to swoon,” one of the female tourists says putting a hand over her heart.

  “Well, I think I’m going to vomit,” I say, quickly skirting around the counter to stop him from causing a scene and getting me fired.

  “Ryan, could you please step aside while I help these guests.”

  “No. I need to talk to you, right now!”

  “I’m working and I need you to leave.”

  “Not a chance, sweet cheeks.”

  Ignoring him, I turn back to the two middle-aged women waiting for help.

  “Don’t mind us,” the lady tells me, “This is more entertaining than the reality show we were watching in our room.”

  I stare at her. My life’s been reduced to a reality TV show?

  Anna walks in from the back hallway where she was checking on housekeeping.

  Shit, this is going to be explosive.

  I feel another panic attack coming on, and I move quickly to sit on the chaise lounge by the window. Putting my head between my knees, I breathe in and out. In and out.

  “Vanessa?”

  Ryan perches in front of me trying to lift my head up. I put one hand out in a gesture for him to stop.

  “I’m okay, I just need space.”

>   Anna walks over with a bottle of water, getting me to take a few sips. My chest still feels tight, like a fist clenching around my lungs choking and choking, and my heart races in fear of the sensation.

  “Call her a paramedic.”

  Great, the nosy guest is still here.

  “No. I’m fine, really. I just suffer from occasional panic attacks. I’m truly sorry. Anna, could you please send a bottle of wine up to their room, compliments of the house?”

  “Sure.” She gets up to complete the task, giving Ryan the stink eye.

  “That isn’t necessary, young lady, we hope you feel better. My, this is an exciting little town, isn’t it, Sandra?” Her companion nods wide-eyed in agreement as they pick up their map.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” I tell them as they walk out. I finally look Ryan in the eye. I know he’s still fuming at me but he seems to have control over his emotions for now.

  “Vanessa, we need to talk.”

  “What are you even doing here? I thought you were working in the city today?”

  “I was. I left work three hours early, rented a car and drove up here to see you. I had no choice since you’ve been ignoring me. What the hell happened?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes, trying to rein in the fury simmering under the surface.

  I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to get the knot in my lungs to lessen.

  “Anna, can you manage for a little while on your own?”

  “Sure,” she answers, clearly irritated.

  “Let’s go. I could use some fresh air. We can talk on our way to the docks.”

  I brush by him, into the office. Grabbing my purse, I open it and take out my prescription bottle of Xanax. My doctor prescribed it when my attacks started last year, I threw it in my bag this morning in case another episode occurred. The one I had yesterday was the worst one yet. I twist the top off, but Ryan grabs the bottle from me. He inspects the prescription before handing it back over.

  “I’m going to need my meds if I’m going to get through the conversation you want to have,” I tell him, swallowing a pill. Walking out of the lobby, he opens the door for me, shutting it quietly behind us. My pill might take days or weeks to kick in, for now I need to practice my meditation skills, but it’s oddly soothing taking it. I like to trick myself into believing the medicine can make all my problems disappear.