The Last Summer Girl: A Coming of Age Love Story

by S. C. York

  “Goodbye, Vanessa.”

  This time, he doesn’t turn around. He sprints to his car and gets in. The powerful engine comes to life and I’m left standing in the grass watching until his tail lights disappear in the fog.

  Turning my face up to the sky, I shut my eyes and let the rain pour over me, wishing it could rinse away my pain. When I can’t control my shivering, I turn around and walk back to the house.

  “That was some kiss,” my mom says with a soft smile, wrapping a warm towel around me. Like a child, I let her take me inside and dry me off.

  Inspecting my thumbnail, I put it in my mouth and rip off a small piece.

  “Vanessa, are you chewing your nails again? Stop it or you’ll ruin the manicure I just paid for.”

  Rolling my eyes I reply, “Yes, Mom.”

  “Come on, you need to hurry up. You’re going to be late. Don’t draw attention to yourself by upstaging the event with a dramatic entry, now go.”

  She tries in vain to shoo me out the door.

  “I’m scared, Mom.”

  “I know, honey, but you need to face them. Dad and I will be here for you when you get home.” She gives me a hug, and I reluctantly pick up my clutch and car keys.

  I know The Gala of Hope is for a good cause, but I don’t know what to make of Blake’s strange request that I attend.

  As I maneuver the MINI into the valet parking line and watch elegant couples dressed in black tie evening wear make their way inside, my fingers tap on the wheel. I can’t do this. Putting the car into drive I turn the wheel hard and hit the gas.

  My car seems to drive itself toward The Point. The last time I was here was when TJ picked me up after Blake confided in me.

  Taking off my heels, I dig my toes into the sand uncaring if it scratches up my polish. Going to the MYC and seeing Ryan with his family and facing Blake and Charles is something I don’t think I can do alone. Maybe I’ll wait and duck in the back, so technically I’ll be there without having to make polite chit chat while the Stones stare smugly at me. My phone buzzes in my hand.

  Where are you? TJ writes.

  Shit, sorry TJ be there later…I type back.

  Chicken? he asks.

  Yep… I respond.

  Sighing, I put my phone away and stare out into the ocean. It figures that the bench here at my favorite place faces directly across the water from England. There’s no land separating this spot from the UK, just three thousand four hundred and twenty six miles of open water.

  I wonder how often I’ll come back here, like the women who used to stare out to sea waiting for their men to come home from the whaling ships. Will I sit here and stare out wondering where Ryan is on the other side? Probably.

  Turning away, I know it’s time to go and say goodbye.

  The parking lot is full. Thankfully, my car fits where most others can’t. I squeeze in a corner spot and walk up the drive to the Mystic Yacht Club entrance. A pink breast cancer awareness flag flies on the flagpole under the stars and stripes.

  And a pink “red carpet” has been rolled out, but the photographers are all gone now and there is no one here to capture me walking in alone.

  Thank God the event’s already started and I sneak into a side door entering the dining room. Dinner is almost over and I find a spot in the shadows in a back corner.

  Leaning against the back wall, I grab a pamphlet from a table highlighting tonight’s events. Wow, Blake’s billed as the keynote speaker and he is followed by oncologists from Brigham and Young Women’s Hospital in Boston where most of the fundraising from tonight will go. The lights dim as Lila Stone takes the stage to thunderous applause.

  “Thank you, everyone, for your generous support in honor of my dear friend, Cora Foster. Too many women are victims of this disease and without the help of people like you, funding the vital research we need to combat breast cancer wouldn’t be possible.

  “It is my great honor to introduce this evening’s keynote speaker, Blake Foster. Blake, I know your mother would be proud of the man you’ve become. Tonight’s hope is for other young children, that their mothers won’t be taken by this deadly disease.”

  In the darkened room, I try vainly to find Ryan, but he must be seated at the head table with Charles and his parents. I can’t see the front of the floor by the stage. As Blake stands behind the podium he looks up. A photograph of him and his mom fills the white screen behind him. He seems to be fighting off tears and he turns away from the screen and looks out at the audience. His eyes cut to mine across the room. He gives a curt nod, and I raise my glass saluting him.

  “Good evening, I want to thank you for honoring my mother’s memory. I don’t need to stand here and tell you how important it is that we find a cure. I also don’t need to address how vital funding is. What I would like to tell you is how losing my mother to breast cancer has affected my life. Then and only then, can you truly understand why events and evenings such as tonight’s Gala of Hope are crucial for children whose parents are afflicted with this disease.

  “My mother, Cora, died when I was almost a teenager. She never complained when I wanted French toast at midnight or to go swimming, even if the water was sixty degrees. She made my childhood magical. Her soft lips kissed my forehead every night when she tucked me in. And in the morning, we would sing Guns and Roses on our way to Pine Point where she would walk me into school with a warm hug.

  “When she became sick, my family tried to hide it from me, but I knew something was wrong when we stopped singing on the way to school. As everyone here knows, teenage years are confusing and some of the most challenging ones to navigate. When she left me, I withdrew into myself. And I’ve being lying to everyone here in this room, since the day I knew for sure. The day I went to school and saw Ralph in the cafeteria, he was my first crush.”

  He stops and taps the sides of the podium with his finger as the room holds its collective breath in stunned silence.

  “That’s right, everyone, I’m gay. I wished, desperately wished I had my mother to talk to, but she was gone. I’ve known since I was thirteen, but she wasn’t there. There were no soft hands to stroke my hair and tell me it would be alright, that there would be a day where I could come out of the shadows and stand at center stage like I am tonight and be proud of who I am and unafraid to speak the truth.

  “To my father and friends, I am truly very sorry for not being honest for so long. But this summer I met a girl, the strongest and bravest one I’ve ever met. If I could be different for her I would, I tried.

  “But in the end, I can’t change who I am. I’m so sorry, love. To another girl, I forgive you. In the end, you did me a favor by forcing my hand and I had no choice but to tell my father. Ryan, my best friend, and wingman, how did you not know?” he says jokingly. “Thank you for being my brother and supporting me one hundred percent. I couldn’t do this without you!

  “Finally, Charles—I’m sorry. You’ve been accepting and loving in a way I never dreamed.”

  By now, most everyone in the room is crying and Charles runs up to the stage to embrace Blake as they both choke on tears. Cora’s picture is the backdrop behind them. Men start handing their wives handkerchiefs and my eyes water as I watch the scene play out in front of me.

  “Love you…Dad,” Blake chokes out. Charles pounds him on the back, still bear hugging him.

  “And so I stand here tonight to share with you all that maybe things could have been different for me if Mom had lived. Maybe I would’ve never been in the shadows had my mother’s soft hand guided me through this.

  Please forgive me, Mom. I never wanted to lie or deceive anyone but I wasn’t brave enough without you.”

  Blake looks up to the sky and says this and everyone stands.

  Blake Foster just came out to a standing ovation. Thunderous applause fills the room as Charles, Ryan, Lila, and Evan all hug on the stage. I’m happy for them, happy for them all finding a real reason to bring them together. I smile up at Cora, hoping s
he forgives me too for what I did, but I feel oddly satisfied at the way things have turned out for Blake.

  The girls at MYC are probably all having heart attacks over the news— the King of Mystic likes men. None of them ever had a chance, but Eva can never show her face here. Women are too cruel to let the opportunity slide. Eva Cruz was played, and I’m sure it’s already trending on Twitter.

  Pushing off the back wall, I turn and make my way outside. No longer feeling like I have a place here, I push open the heavy oak doors and take in the fresh night air, crisp with a hint of smoke and fall. It’s time to go home.

  The time has come. It’s my last morning in Mystic. Letting the moment sink in, I lie still. Already, it’s not the same. The stars are gone, only the sticky residue remains from the glue that held them up. My attention turns to my phone that’s charging on the nightstand. “Shit,” I curse, realizing I forgot to take it off silent after I left the gala.

  My phone is full of texts and missed calls from Eva and TJ. Without reading them, I instantly call her.

  “Vanessa?” she croaks, “Oh, my God, he did it, he came out publicly.”

  “I know. I was there.”

  “Of course you were.”

  “Eva, Ryan broke up with me, I wasn’t there as his date.”

  “Oh.”

  “Actually, I outed Blake to Charles a few weeks ago by accident.”

  “What? How the hell did you do that?” She laughs, “I would’ve loved to witness that.”

  “I bet. It’s good to hear you laugh. Listen, I’m leaving tonight. I start at Diageo on Monday. I should’ve left already. Anyway, I’d love to see you before I go. Can you meet for lunch?”

  “I’d love to see you, too. We have so much to catch up on, but I can’t face anyone. How can I go out in public? What if I run into someone who knows I was with Blake this summer?”

  “I know a place. It has the best burgers and lunch specials. I used to meet my dad there sometimes.”

  “Where?”

  “It’s in Groton, I promise no yacht club divas or their moms will be there. Just workers from the industrial parks nearby—Pfizer and Electric Boat.”

  “Promise?”

  “Come on, Eva, you can’t hide forever.”

  “No, but I want to.”

  “I’ll text you the address—you better show up.”

  “Okay,” she answers. We hang up, and I feel happy knowing I’ll see her soon.

  The hostess leads me to a small table in the back corner of the room. It’s pitch as tar inside even though the sun outside is blinding. The front windows are tinted and no one can see in from the outside. It’s the perfect spot to meet Eva. The walls lined with wood paneling make the room even dimmer. Sneeker’s Café is a place where no one will bother us.

  Eva sits down and I almost don’t recognize her. Her hair is pulled back in a bun and her head’s covered with a scarf tied under her chin. Her eyes are hidden by huge black glasses and her clothes hang loose, falling off her tiny frame.

  My Eva is gone. Who is this frail girl before me?

  “Who are you? Jackie O?”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Oh, my God. Never mind. Eva, no one will know you here, I swear. Take those off, it’s already dark as night in here.”

  Her eyes scan the room; gingerly she unwraps her scarf and takes off the dramatic sunglasses.

  “I’ve missed you,” I say, squeezing her hand.

  “What happened with you and Ryan?” She gets right down to business.

  Sitting back, I shrug, feeling tears build.

  “It was always hot and cold. I guess that was part of the attraction, it was an intense and addicting relationship from the start. But I don’t know, Eva, sometimes he was mean to me. He made me feel stupid and immature.”

  “What a jerk.”

  “Well, I did pull some stunts.”

  “Stop. Stop right there, Nessa. No one who loves you should ever make you feel that way.”

  “I’m still ashamed of myself.”

  “Why? Nessa, you were lied to. We were both played.”

  “It’s going to take me a long time to get over him. I’m not sure I’ll ever forget this summer,” I tell her.

  “It’s impossible for me to ever forget this summer. It’s going to haunt me for the rest of my life.”

  “I don’t think it will, Eva. Everything will pass, you’ll see.”

  “It doesn’t feel that way. Honestly, I can’t stay here anymore now that Blake’s come out. Blaire and her friends at MYC will never let me live this down. Joke’s on me now, huh? And to think last month at the tent party I was flying. I was in love, finally at the top of society here. Me, Eva Cruz—I had made it. What a crock.” She finishes choking on her words and her tears streak down pale, sunken cheeks. My Eva, my strong, proud friend, has been reduced to a shell of who she was. It’s playing out right in front of me.

  “Do you think you’ll ever forgive him? He mentioned you in his speech last night, it was touching. Don’t get me wrong—I hate him for what he did to you, but I’d be lying if I wasn’t moved by his story.”

  “I know. I watched his speech all night on YouTube. Then I started getting links posted to my wall that it was on Facebook Live. I shut down my account.”

  “Why? Just unfriend everyone.”

  “Nessa, I’m being hounded by social media, these people have no shame. I’m not over him. You just don’t get it. For me it was real, I wasn’t pretending. I was in love with someone who could never love me back.”

  “He loves you.”

  “Not the way a woman needs, of course. So no, I can’t forgive him. I doubt I ever will. Do you know what it was like having to go to the clinic and get tested for STDs and AIDS?”

  I shake my head, dumfounded. I had forgotten all about this.

  “It was terrifying,” she says with a shudder. “And the worst part…the worst part was the waiting.”

  There’s nothing I can say, so I get up and hug her.

  “Don’t touch me, I can’t stand pity, especially from you.” She shrinks away and continues crying. Confused, I’m not sure what to do. I sit back down. The waitress delivers our food and when she notices Eva’s quivering lip, she mumbles about checking something in the kitchen. After a few minutes, Eva wipes her face with the back of her hand and composes herself.

  “I’ve been in touch with my Aunt Gloria, the one who lives outside of Providence. When my classes finish next week at the community college, I’m going to live with her. Complete my GMAT, and apply for graduate school. It’s funny. Charles’s call was the only one I took. He apologized for Blake. He said that wherever I land, that I could always count on him for an excellent reference. It’s a shame. I know people saw Charles as a jerk, but he’s actually just like me, or like how I used to be, assertive.”

  “Charles Foster scares the crap out of me, I won’t lie. I couldn’t believe it when I heard how well he took the news. I thought for sure Charles was going to disinherit Blake, instead he gave him half ownership in Foster...”

  I trail off noticing the fork in Eva’s hand. It’s gripped in her fist. She uses it to stab the table in rapid succession and I read her message loud and clear. I better shut up before she drives her fork into me. Her mouth thins as she sits back and wipes it with a napkin.

  “Chica, I can’t sit here and listen to how great Blake’s life is. It’s cruel. Straight or gay, he’s always been the golden boy and that will never change.”

  “I’m sorry, Eva. It was dumb of me to bring him up.” I lean back, sad at how this is ending. I remember the first time we had lunch together in the cafeteria at Cutler Middle School. We were two outcasts both in braces, against the world. When she came into my life everything was better. I’m stunned this is where life has led us, a dark corner of a bar on a lonely Friday afternoon. My throat burns and I can’t help myself. I lose it, as years of memories of the two of us together facing down life play in my mind. We’ve been pu
tting this off as long as possible but now it’s hitting me. I’m going to have to go it alone. Shit.

  “Vanessa? Control yourself; I wasn’t going to stab you.”

  “You idiot. I’m crying because this is the end of us,” I choke out. My chest feels tight and I reach into my purse, fingers frantic.

  “No, Nessa.”

  Eva reaches across the table, placing a hand on my arm, “You can do this. Don’t take the pills. Just breathe, you’re stronger than you know.”

  “We haven’t been apart in twelve years, Eva. This is the worst break up I’ve ever had,” I blow my nose loudly, locking eyes with our waitress. She was about to check on us but the sight of two girls looking like a hot mess at high noon scares her off.

  “Chica, you can’t get rid of me that easily. I’ll visit you when things settle.”

  “Promise me, you’re okay?” I ask her.

  “I’m getting there. I just need to get out of town and go where no one knows me.”

  She needs encouragement, if I was in her shoes, I couldn’t stay either. “That’s great, Eva. I think a change of scenery will be good for you. I’m so proud of you for keeping up with your classes and pursuing grad school. Not letting what happened spoil your dream.”

  She shrugs and nibbles on a french fry.

  “Umm, this is good.”

  “I know, and you haven’t even tried your chicken sandwich yet.”

  We chew our food in silence until she wiggles her finger at me, “Spill. I want to know everything I’ve missed this last month.”

  “Not much, just me getting staked in the heart again. Then I told Charles that Blake was gay in front of Ryan’s parents during a swanky dinner at the Boston Yacht Club.”

  “What happened? I know you would never do something impulsive like that unless provoked.”