Postcards From Last Summer by Roz Bailey

“Uh-huh. Just as soon as he discovers fire and invents the wheel, I’m sure the next thing on his list will be throwing me over his shoulder and ravishing me.”
    â€œYou’ll never know if you don’t try,” Darcy told her. “And you, you need to hook up with Colonel Wigglesteen before he’s shipping out of here and your summer is wasted.”
    It wouldn’t be a total waste, Tara thought, realizing the value in their emotional connection, but Darcy wouldn’t get that. “What are your parents going to think?” Tara asked.
    â€œThey’re not going to be there. Just like every night. Dad never gets out of his office and Mom’s too busy screwing that tight-assed tennis pro back in Manhasset.”
    Lindsay rolled her eyes. “Again, too much information.”
    â€œWe’ll do it the weekend after July fourth. I’ll have Lupe cook us a really nice dinner and we can mix up a big batch of frozen drinks—margaritas or piña coladas. It’ll be a real party.”
    â€œWhat’ll I tell my parents? Mama’s already got her eyes on the two of us. I think she’s suspicious.”
    Darcy lowered her shades to glower at Darcy. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Get creative! Or tell them you’re staying at my place. It’s the actual truth, so you don’t have to eat yourself up with guilt.”
    â€œThat’s true.” Tara let out a laugh. “A deceptive truth . . .”
    â€œBut who’s counting?” Lindsay said. “Go for it, Tara. You deserve some time with Charlie.”
    Tara could think of a million reasons to argue, but as she was about to wax prudent she realized this would be her one chance to be with Charlie, who was so tantalizingly close this summer, and yet so out of reach. What would it be like to fall into his arms and have the freedom to spend all night together, just kissing and touching each other?
    â€œWell . . .” Tara felt her cheeks grow warm. “If Mr. Migglesteen goes along with the ruse, I mean, if he’s into it—”
    â€œThat’s not going to be a problem,” Darcy said. “That boy’s got ‘Lust for Tara’ written across his forehead.”
    â€œDo you think?” Tara squinted. “I mean, I’m really into him. I haven’t felt this way about a guy for a long time, and I’m sort of hoping that, if we do connect, I’ll finally get to . . .” She looked around to make sure no one was listening in. “I think orgasm is a possibility.”
    â€œAgain!” Lindsay clapped her hands over her ears. “Way too much information. Just say yes, get the boy in bed, see how he tickles your taco, and then we’ll talk.”
    â€œOkay.” Tara’s friends were handing her the one thing she’d been craving this summer: a chance to be with Charlie.
    Time to shut up and go for it.

12
    Lindsay
    T oday is the day; you’ve got to ask him today, I told myself as Bear came into Old Towne Pizza, grabbed a Coke, and took his usual seat at the counter.
    â€œHey, squirt,” he said, all business. “Want a drink?”
    â€œI’ll take a Diet Coke.” Not that I couldn’t have gotten one myself, but I was tickled to let Bear serve me. “You’re in early.”
    â€œYeah, the surf sucks.” He sat in his usual seat at the counter, huddled in a red hooded sweatshirt with Old Towne Pizza emblazoned across the chest. A cool rain had blown in that morning from the northeast, and everyone was feeling the chill. Of course, Bear didn’t abandon summer completely, wearing flip-flops and shorts that suggested a tight, square butt.
    Three weeks at this job and I hadn’t tired of watching the delivery guy. If I didn’t work here I could probably get arrested for stalking, but I looked forward to hanging at the counter and talking with him, laughing over his anecdotes