by Matayo, Amy
“What are you guys doing?” another male voice calls out from a few yards away.
All the butterflies turn into ugly squirmy caterpillars at the sound. I sigh and look up at Chad. Why can’t I just be left alone for one morning? How did he manage to follow us? I’m starting to think I would have a better time with my parents and grandmother.
“I’m trying to leave,” I say. “Now would you both let me go?”
“Where are you going?”
“Where does it look like?” I hold up a mouth thingy with a tube. “I’m going snorkeling, obviously. Now can you both leave?”
“By yourself?”
I look between Liam and Chad and wonder how I wound up with two extra parents when I signed up for this super-fun vacation. I implore my tour guide for help, but he’s busy cracking open a can of beer. The thought of him drinking and boating concerns me for a second, but not nearly as much as sitting here in potential view of the rest of my family. Everyone will see me if they don’t get out of here.
“I’m going with this guy, Oscar, right here.” I gesture to the tour guide. He takes a long pull of beer and starts up the engine, glancing at me over his shoulder.
“Oliver.”
“Oh sorry, Oliver.”
Chad looks from Liam to me and back. “And you’re just going to let her go?”
“No, I’m not. She just—”
Now I’m mad. “Hang on just a second. No one lets me go anywhere, especially not either one of you. Now, you can either sit down and join me or hop off the boat so I can leave before the rest of my family shows up.”
For a second no one moves, they just stare down at me like I’ve grown two heads or a third ear. I scratch my left one self-consciously before dropping my hand. No one can make you feel inferior without your consent, so there. I’m done.
My ear still itches.
Finally, Liam steps off the boat. I blink away a twinge of disappointment, but try not to show it.
“Thank you. Now Oscar, let’s go—”
“Wait,” Liam says, holding up a hand for him to stay put. Oscar mutters “it’s Oliver” once again, but I resist the urge to apologize. It isn’t my fault everyone has me flustered. And also, what are Liam and Chad whispering about? I crane my neck to listen but hear only sputters and starts, a few ummms, and one you should go with her. That comes from Liam, and my pulse trips. I open my mouth to protest when I hear Chad’s answer.
“But I want to look for Dolphins, and Sabrina said she’s saving me a seat.”
I perk up at this, pleased to see my master plan is working despite not yet implementing it. My momentary joy is snatched at Liam’s next words.
“Sabrina? You’ve been waiting for a chance to be alone with Dillon since we first heard about this trip, and you’re not going to take it?”
“I still want to be alone with her, but right now I want to see the dolphins…”
I prop my chin on my hands and blink in front of me. The truth is, I’ve never given Chad much of a chance. He’s a little nerdy and my cousin’s best friend and definitely too overbearing for my taste. But still. A weird thing happens when a man you don’t like chooses to watch fish over spending time with you. The fragile threads of your rapidly disintegrating ego snap and float to the ground while you sit helplessly and watch. I sigh and sit up, determination clenching my jaw. I’m not giving either one of them another second to debate whether anyone is staying or going. From now on, if anyone hesitates over me, they’ll lose me. Figuratively, of course, seeing as I’ll be back on the ship with them by nightfall.
“Guys, I will see you later. Oscar, let’s go.” I clasp both hands around the dock and give the boat a shove. We’re leaving now even if I have to use my own arms to row row row this dang boat myself.
“Wait, where—”
We’re floating, finally. “No,” I call. “Go spend time with the fish. I’ll see you both tonight.”
Oscar revs the engine, and I let out a lungful of air. They can fight over me while I’m no longer listening. The relief I feel to finally be off washes over me in, well…waves.
Until two feet land in front of me with a thud and the boat rocks sideways. Try as I might, I can’t remember which one of them was wearing Birkenstocks.
“What the heck are you doing?” I say, gripping the sides of the boat to steady myself.
“Not letting you go alone, that’s what.” He sits down in front of me, slightly out of breath.
I look up, feeling those butterflies start to flutter again. Of course, it’s Liam. Jumping in the boat like a knight in shining armor.
His Birkenstocks are brown, the same color as his eyes.
“Are you still alive down there?”
Before this little snorkeling excursion, I never knew I was the type of girl who could actually hear underwater. And not a muffled-type hearing either. I can make out every syllable Liam shouts at me, almost as if I really am the Little Mermaid and Liam is Eric and we have our own secret language that the rest of humanity couldn’t possibly understand.
I pop my head out of the ocean and into the sunshine, water sluicing off my face and sliding down my oversized mask. It’s my first dive and sure, I’ve taken a bit longer than maybe I should. But along with a massive amount of plant life, I saw a starfish, an eel, and two Dolphins—take that, Chad. This is the best fifteen minutes I’ve had in a while. It’s only fair that I share the joy with Liam.
“I’m alive. Are you ready to come in with me?” Liam has never been snorkeling, a curious little tidbit considering he came with me in the first place. He’s a bit cautious to say the least, and I’ve been goading him for ten minutes with no success.
“I think so. You’re sure it’s safe?” He asks this of Oliver, whose name I’ve vowed to get right the rest of this trip. The last time I called him Oscar, he chastised me sharply. I won’t make that mistake again.
“I’m sure. Come in, you’ll like it.”
“Make sure you keep your mouth guard in,” Oliver instructs him. “Your vest is tight, and you have your passport, yes?”
I find that question odd, but Liam nods. “Okay good. Then you both have everything you need. Go ahead and lower yourself into the water, and you’re set. There should be a good amount of ocean life to see out there, too.” Oliver points off into the distance, and I nod.
“Come on in, Liam. We don’t have all day.” I inject a teasing tone into my words, but I’m pretty sure they came off bossy.
Liam offers another glance to Oliver before easing himself over the side of the boat. When he slides into the water, my insides give a little flip. It’s just me and Liam and this vast expanse of sea—I never knew snorkeling took place in such deep water. Granted, I’ve never known much about snorkeling at all, but the picture in my mind included land, a sand bar or something equally shallow for walking around, and a wet suit. Wrong on all counts.
Still, other than Oliver the grumpy tour guide and the occasional shark or stingray that could possibly make a passing strike for our legs, this entire morning has been rather peaceful. I ignore thoughts of sharks and swim away from the boat a bit.
“I saw a starfish down here. Want to see if we can find it again?”
“Sure.” Liam slips in his mouthpiece and closes his lips around it, takes a deep breath, and we dive. The flippers were a bit awkward for me at first, and they appear to be giving him a rough time, accidently slapping together and veering him off course. It takes a minute or two, but he gets the hang of it, and we swim side by side with our faces surrounded by water. After only a couple of seconds, I spot a crab and point. It makes me way too excited considering crab cakes and legs are two of my absolute favorite foods. Seeing them in their natural habitat gives me pause, however, and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to eat those things again.
Liam reaches out and takes the crab in his hand, then brings it toward my face. It’s difficult to scream under water, but I manage anyway and take in a lungful of what feels like saline
solution. I thrust myself to the surface, coughing and slapping the water at the same time. When his head emerges, he’s smiling, but at least he manages to give my back part a pat or two. His halfhearted concern just warms me right up.
I roll my eyes behind my massive pair of goggles and search for Oliver. When I spot him, he waves.
“Liam found a crab and scared me with it!” I shout. Oliver just waves back and nods his head. Something flat and orange is floating in the water next to the boat, but I can’t quite make it out from here. I squint, but it’s futile. My goggles are fogged with water droplets and steam. He seems farther away than I thought he would be. Liam and I should probably pay closer attention to where we’re swimming so we don’t go too far. I open my mouth to say as much when he says:
“Look what I found,” and dives back under water.
I smile. It seems the boy afraid to climb off the boat has become quite the little underwater adventurer. With one more glance at Oliver, I submerge my head. Liam found a starfish, bright orange and swimming close to our legs. Even better, next to it lies a perfect conch shell, save for the animal living inside and making it move. It would look so pretty on my coffee table at home if it weren’t for that darn sea urchin. I study it and contemplate the odds of extricating the animal from the inside. When that doesn’t seem like a good option, I eye a perfectly intact sand dollar. When I was little, my grandmother kept a sand dollar on her coffee table, claiming one from the ocean was known to bring good luck and immense fortune, especially when displayed in the middle of a home where bad spirits could get trapped when they flew by on their evil missions. I never once questioned this belief despite the price tag tucked under the structure that valued it at nine ninety-nine. A souvenir shop find didn’t seem much like a good luck charm to me.
One from the ocean though.
I’m totally bringing this back to her.
I reach down to pick it up but my fingertips only swipe at it, so I make another attempt. If a large dime-store replica is something for my grandmother to believe in, surely a genuine sand dollar from the actual ocean that I retrieved with my bare hands might bring me a little luck I’ve been lacking lately. At the very least, maybe the next guy I have feelings for won’t dump me like last night’s leftovers.
That does it. My adrenaline surges, and I plunge in as far as water-laden limbs will allow. It works. I raise the sand dollar out of the water with a little squeal of success.
“I got it!” I cry into the air around us. The words sound more like far-fite-gum because I’m still wearing the mouthpiece and everything is warbled, but I’m pretty sure Liam understands me. I understand me, and right now it’s all that counts. “It’s my lucky day!”
Liam laughs and slides my mouthpiece out for me. “Want to say that again?”
I giggle. Water is trailing down my chin like it’s exiting a spout; unflattering for sure, but I’m so happy I don’t care. “I said I found this sand dollar.” I shove it in front of his face as proof. “See? A dollar from the ocean becomes a million on land. Now we’ll be lucky forever. At least that’s what my grandmother used to tell me.”
We’re treading water, but I don’t feel exerted.
“And you believed her?”
There was that one incident with a house fire when I was seven. And then my grandfather lost most of their money in one night when he ran out of luck playing blackjack. I think I was twelve when that happened? Thirteen? Never mind. He earned most of the money back the next night and made even more later, and mostly they’ve been happy since. Liam doesn’t need to know the bad parts.
“Of course I believed her. My grandmother’s life has been smooth sailing up until now.” There was also that time she ran over her own Labradoodle not-quite puppy a few years back. In her defense, he darted in front of the car in an effort to bite the tire when…well. The mental imagery still haunts me. But she didn’t do it on purpose, so that doesn’t count. “Smooth sailing.” I repeat the words for some weird reason. This time they sound flat.
“Nice metaphor, considering where we are.”
I shrug. “Want to hold it?”
“Hold what?” The way he says the words. Suggestive, as though he misinterpreted my question. I blink.
“The sand dollar.” It feels heavy and slightly flustered in my hand. Or maybe that second part is just me.
Liam takes it. “Lucky, huh? Seems awfully small to make such a big impact.”
“Not everything has to be big to make an…impact.” Why does everything I say sound so inappropriate and sexual? My face heats. I wish I could blame the sun, but the reaction is all mine.
He hands the shell back to me, then swims backwards a bit. “I guess I’ll take your word for—”
Liam straightens in the water, his eyebrows forming a crease in the middle. “Where’s the boat?” I roll my eyes at his little joke and twist my body to look over my shoulder.
“It’s right back… Hey, where is it?”
He dogpaddles a bit. “We must have gone further out than we thought. Come on, let’s head back.”
I follow him like an obedient puppy, one who’s been whacked with a newspaper and is feeling a bit disoriented. “Are you sure this is the right direction? What if it’s that way?” I point to the right.
He swims backward to see me better, indicating with his head. “It’s east, same direction as the sunrise.”
Oh, well in that case. I’ve never been good with directions or compasses. People who speak in lingo like north, south, east, and, west have always confounded me. Point me to the nearest McDonalds or oak tree, but don’t use weird directions like north. To me, north is up no matter where I’m facing. But I swim east and follow Liam.
It only takes a few seconds for me to question him again. “I know we’ve been out a while, but I’m pretty sure we didn’t go this far. Maybe he left when we weren’t looking.” I laugh a little, because I’m joking. I’m definitely joking.
I blink at the clear, empty horizon. Surely I’m joking.
CHAPTER 6
Day One—morning
Dillon
Nothing about this is funny.
“Tour guides can’t just leave when they have customers,” Liam says. “Too many insurance liabilities. Too many—”
“Liam?”
The greatest morning in forever crashes into the longest second of my life when I spot it. The orange thing I couldn’t make out earlier.
Two life jackets. Tied together. Both floating in the water only a few dozen yards away from us.
I don’t like the scenarios flashing across my mind right now, all of them rapid like sniper fire and equally as damaging. Oliver was right beside those jackets a few minutes ago. I remember his hand and the way it snapped up to wave at me earlier. I had thought him excited to spot me. Now I see it more clearly…it was more like he’d been caught. Caught doing what…that part isn’t so clear yet. Setting the life jackets in the water?
Liam follows my gaze, then looks at me again, the line between his eyebrows deepening. “What are those?” He takes a cautious stroke toward them, then pauses to make sure I’m following. I am, but I wish to God I wasn’t.
“Life jackets.” The word may as well have been straightjackets, handcuffs, a noose. But then I realize the idea is absolutely absurd. Of course, there is nothing to worry about. “He must have left them there in case we needed them before he got back.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Got back from where?”
I look to the left, to the right, in search of anything that might help me form a response. The only thing to see is a somewhat straight line of waves. A path.
“I don’t know, but he must have gone somewhere. See these ripple marks in the water? The waves are a little higher here. I think he went that way.” I point across the horizon. My insides are filled with rocks. Tour guides don’t just leave without explaining themselves. I’ve never needed a tour guide for anything before now, so I don’t know this as a fact. But I wo
uld think abandoning people in the middle of the ocean, for any reason at all, would be on the list of definite no-nos. Oscar Oliver better be fired for this or someone is going to hear from me.
For the longest time, we tread water side by side. I’m holding my breath and counting to myself, waiting for someone to reappear. Liam seems too stunned to speak.
“What company did you say he works for? I’m going to file a complaint when we get back on the ship. You don’t just leave people in the middle of the ocean without telling them where you’re going.”
Yes! Exactly what I was thinking!
I don’t verbalize the thought. He might not appreciate the words.
“I don’t know the name of his company.” It isn’t until this exact moment that I realize the gravity of the decision I made earlier this morning. They posted warnings everywhere. In the hallways. In bathrooms. Outside the dining hall. In the main lobby. Stay only with cruise-approved tours. This cruise line is not responsible for third-party accidents. Private tours at your own risk. I heard announcements. Many, many announcements.
I ignored all of them.
“I don’t know the name of his company.” I close my eyes and breathe, completely numb except for fear. Fear of being alone. Of sharks. Of God not seeing us or sending help. It’s a big ocean after all. He might overlook us or mistake us for fish. So I pray. Praying isn’t something I do often, but I start right now.
“What do you mean, you don’t know the name of it? Didn’t you sign up online?”
I squint at him, thinking it’s rude to interrupt a person’s prayers. His upper lip is dotted with sweat and he’s still looking out in front of us. If panic had a first name, it would be Liam. If it had a middle and last name, it would definitely be Dillon.
“I signed up when I saw him standing outside.”
He sends me a sharp look as though the idea never occurred to him before. The worst part is that I dragged him down this awful road with me.