Postcards From Last Summer by Roz Bailey Read Free Book Online

couldn’t believe Darcy was that shallow, that catty.
    As she started the car, Tara felt doubly guilty for not calling Lindsay in these past two weeks. She’d wanted to, but she had been under her mother’s thumb, cleaning and redecorating. That would change this week, as soon as the guys got here from Korea, where Tara’s older brother was stationed in the armed forces. Although Tara didn’t feel a strong bond with her older brother Wayne, it would be a relief to have him finally arrive and put an end to the neurotic preparations. Besides, Wayne would provide enough distraction for Tara to get some of her life back.
    Whatever was left of it.
    Years ago they’d lost Elle in a near-tragic incident. Thank God Elle had survived, but when her parents whisked her away, never to return again, Tara felt as if Elle had taken a piece of them with her. And now this. Damn it, at the rate Darcy was cutting people off, there’d be nothing left of the Hamptons friends.
    This was unacceptable. Time to take a stand.
    Tara stopped at a pay phone and, surprised that she remembered it, dialed Lindsay’s number. “Hey, girl,” she said when Lindsay got on the line, “I’m headed over your way and I won’t take no for an answer. How about we catch a movie or something?”
    That would show Darcy that she didn’t have the power to decimate Tara’s relationships. Granted, she could destroy her own, but while Darcy crashed and burned, her friends would be getting their groove on.

5
    Darcy
    T hey all love me.
    Putting Tara’s angry exit out of her mind, Darcy focused on what she had going for her tonight. The guy thing. She moved her slender body between two guys lined up at the bar, feeling a subtle thrill as one of them slid his hand down her firm backside and the other teased a glance at the tan line along her cleavage. All the guys liked the way she looked and responded to her easy way of moving a conversation along. A feeling of power burned bright inside her at the realization that she could probably have her pick of any guy in Coney’s tonight. Any of these tan beach boys with six-pack abs would be happy to be her boyfriend.
    But she was holding out for Kevin. And where the hell was he? His father, currently backing up the bartender, had told her he’d be here soon. She suspected that he was with his loser friends, Fish and David, but she didn’t want to ask Mr. McGowan too many questions, didn’t want to appear too desperate.
    Licking the sugared rim of her red martini, she made her way down the bar in search of Kevin’s gold-tinged, spiky hair, the shaggy beach-boy look that had won him a place in her heart years ago, her fourteenth summer. Somehow, even back then, she’d known that Kevin was the one. Although she’d started sexual experimentation at an early age, kissing boys and letting them feel her up in the darkness of movie theaters or the cover of the dunes, she knew enough to save the best for Kevin.
    She still remembered that night when she was just fourteen, the party at the McCorkle house, the perfume she wore, and the packets of condoms she’d tucked into her bag for the right opportunity with Kevin. He’d been playing quarters on the screened-in porch and the smell of beer was heavy on his lips as she caught him leaving the bathroom.
    â€œThere’s something up here I want to show you,” she’d told him, nodding her head toward the stairs. He’d followed her up, his mouth agape in curiosity as she led him into the master bedroom, once the sacred ground of Lindsay’s grandparents, the current bedroom of her mother.
    â€œAre we supposed to be in here?” Kevin had asked, looking up at the crucifix on the wall.
    Darcy pushed the door closed behind her. “I just wanted to show you this.” The snaps of her blouse opened with a row of pops, and Kevin stared down at her lacy bra.
    â€œWow,”