I open the door only to come face to face with A.J., not Piper. I look behind him; she’s not there either. Gabby pushes past me.
“Where is she?” she asks breathlessly.
“Oh yeah … um … Piper had to split,” A.J. replies, running his fingers through his hair.
Gabby’s smile fades into sadness. I know she’s devastated.
So far, Piper hasn’t impressed me much.
2
Don’t Make Me Laugh
Well, I’m here; I’m on the boat, and now my only choice is to make the most of it — I have to confess, that after a bunch of bad dreams involving sharks and a weird pool floaty, I was tempted to chicken out. Sure, treasure hunting might sound exciting, but think about it … does it really? I mean, jumping into a treacherous ocean, packed with piranhas, giant squid, and vicious sharks (like, seriously, don’t even get me started on those!) just to explore a rusty old ship, which is probably buried in a ton of gross, crusty barnacles — totally not the most fun way to spend a summer, huh?
But holy Neptune! When I arrived last night and saw Piper’s Prize (seriously, that’s the name of our boat … gag!) I realized that this might just be the most exciting summer of my life!
So, the boat is massive. Like a mini cruise ship that’s not that mini at all! And I can’t even exaggerate how beautiful it is. It’s like total LUXURY, and best of all, I have my own room and everything. Piper, whom I still haven’t met, has her own room, too. A.J. and this kid named Henry (who is my boss Phillip’s nephew, visiting from Australia) will be sharing a room. Captain Steele (Piper’s father) and the director both have their own rooms, as well. With the film crew, the dive crew, the cook, and the rest of the ship’s company, it’s amazing how many bodies fit on this boat!
For some reason, I pictured us on a big, stinky rust bucket with a crew of salty old fishermen. This is so not that! At this very moment, in fact, I’m lying here in the lap of luxury, all snuggled in my bed under a big, fluffy, white duvet, waiting for the day to begin. My room is small, but super cozy. Actually, this whole boat is pure luxury from top to bottom, bow to stern — the kitchen (aka the galley) is bright and modern, and off that is a stunning dining room with the most gorgeous chandelier. The dining room leads into a BEAUTIFUL living room with fancy leather couches and a huge TV, complete with the newest Sony Playstation that’s not even out in stores yet! The boat has three decks and — get this — two huge hot tubs! Seriously! This is NOTHING like what I had expected. And best of all, I’m not even one bit sick! Maybe I’ve outgrown my seasickness after all, which would be so cool!
“Hannah!” I hear A.J. calling from the hall. Before I can reply, he starts banging on my door. “Hannah! You’re late!” he yells.
“Late for what?” I call out. I don’t know what he is worried about. I got a memo under my door last night that said Captain Steele wants everyone on the middle deck at 10:00 a.m. Right now, it’s only 8:35 a.m. I’ve got loads of time!
“Hannah, the meeting started five minutes ago!” A.J. bellows. “Captain Steele isn’t happy!”
“But …”
“Hannah, there’s no time to talk about it. Just get out here. Everyone is waiting!”
“Okay, tell them I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I call out, grabbing yesterday’s clothes off the floor. Thank god I slept in my socks!
“Hannah, you’re not getting it! The Captain is really ticked! If you’re not fifteen minutes early, then you’re late!”
“I’m not late,” I call back.
“Hannah! Look at your memo!”
“I don’t know what memo you got, but mine said to be there at 10:00 a.m.,” I yell through the door. I grab the memo off of my dresser and shove it in my pocket. “Just give me a second to brush my hair!”
“Hannah, are you even dressed?”
“Yes, but —”
The door bursts open.
“Forget your hair!” A.J. says, pulling me out of my room. Rude!
“A.J., chill out!” I yell, yanking my hand free. I reach in and grab my brush off of the shelf. “Is it okay if I brush it on the way?” I ask angrily.
“Fine!”
“Wait! I didn’t brush my teeth! Do you have any gum?”
With a groan, he pulls out a pack of Dentyne Ice and pops a couple of pieces into my hand.
“Will you just come on, please?” He frowns, grabbing my hand again.
“Don’t worry,” I say, dragging the brush through my hair with my free hand. “I’m telling you, I’m not going to be in trouble. Just look at my memo!” I shake my hand free and pull the memo from my pocket.
He looks at it and frowns. “Hannah.”
“See,” I say with a satisfied smirk. “It says 10:00 a.m.”
“Oh my gosh, Hannah! Stop arguing and hurry up!”
When we arrive on the middle deck I see that A.J. wasn’t exaggerating. Everyone is here — the dive crew, the boat crew, the film crew — like I said, everyone. OMG, the film crew! They have their cameras out! They’re filming already? Holy crud! Everyone looks great — hair done, makeup on, and me … I’m a mess! Even the boat crew is all decked out in their freshly pressed khakis. Why didn’t anyone tell me we were filming this morning?
Everyone is frowning, probably annoyed that I’ve held up the meeting. Well, as soon as they see this memo, I’m sure they’ll feel bad about the less than warm reception they’ve given me.
“Hey, everyone!” I say with my happiest smile. “I know you’re all thinking I’m late, but I’m really not. I’m early, actually. You see, my memo said the meeting was at ten.”
A very large and serious-looking man, who must be the captain, shakes his head. “Show it to me.” He extends his hand, frowning.
A.J. looks at me, and then down at the memo in his hand. I shrug and nod, telling him it is okay to pass it over.
“Hmm …” Captain Steele says. “Piper, could you read this for us, please.”
Piper? She’s here? Of course she is! Where else would she be? Which one is she? A girl in a plain blue shirt steps forward. Wow! That’s Piper?
She’s definitely pretty, but I wouldn’t say she’s drop-dead gorgeous like Gabby said. Gabby thinks Piper is amazing, like she can do no wrong, so maybe that’s why she sees her as the most beautiful girl on the face of the Earth. They say that sometimes the way you act affects how people see you. I’ve seen a different side of Piper, a mean side. Maybe that’s why I don’t find her so stunningly beautiful. Or maybe it’s just that awful jealousy messing with my head again. Either way, I guess time will tell.
Piper takes the memo from her father’s hands, smiles, and clears her throat.
“Memorandum. To — Hannah Smart. From — Captain John Steele. Date — July fifth. Subject — information meeting for cast and crew. There will be an important information session tomorrow morning at eight thirty sharp. It is imperative that you arrive fifteen minutes early to ensure a prompt start. Please note there is a zero-tolerance rule in place for tardiness, and that lateness of any kind will constitute a strike. Of note, the film crew will be starting tomorrow, so ensure your appearance is professional.”
Piper looks up from the memo, smiles and hands it back over to her dad.
“Thank you, Piper.” The captain’s voice is so loud it startles me. “Please give it to Hannah.”
Piper extends her hand forward, passing me the paper.
I look down at it, dumbfounded. “Wait! What?” I exclaim. “That’s not my memo! Mine said to be here for 10:00 a.m. sharp.”
“Sure …” Piper smirks.
“It did!” I demand. “I showed it to A.J.!”
“Sorry,” A.J. replies, shaking his head. “That’s what you gave me.”
“It is?” I look at him in disbelief. This is crazy! My paper said nothing about being here fifteen minutes early! “The
re must be some mistake!”
“No mistake, Hannah.” Piper snickers. “Nice try, though.”
“Piper!” Captain Steele bellows at his daughter. “This is no laughing matter. This is a strike!”
“Oh but, Captain Steele, it’s only Hannah’s first day. She didn’t know.” A small, roundish man with a friendly face pleads on my behalf.
“Massimo, are you questioning me?” Captain Steele fixes his eyes on Massimo.
“My apologies, Captain.” Massimo lowers his head.
“Well then, in light of the fact that already this morning three very important rules have been broken …” The captain’s eyes shift from Massimo to me, from me to Massimo, “… it seems the appropriate time to run through my expectations of you all while on board this ship.”
OMG … I can’t believe this is happening! Aside from Piper, everyone looks terrified.
“Be advised,” the captain starts, focusing his eyes on me, “that while on board this ship, there is a three-strike rule, meaning three strikes and you’re gone — no second chances, no exceptions!”
“So these rules, are they posted somewhere?” I ask.
Massimo bites his lip.
“Rule number one — never interrupt the captain.”
OMG! Did I just do that? OMG!
“Rule number two — always arrive fifteen minutes early. If you arrive on time, you’re late. Rule number three — never, ever question your captain.”
Massimo rubs his nose and looks down at his feet.
“Rule number four — neatness is expected at all times.” The captain glares at me and then lowers his eyes to Massimo’s shoes. They look like they’re covered in flour or icing sugar or something. Oh! I bet he’s the cook!
Massimo opens his mouth to explain but then quickly shuts it again. A wise decision, I’m sure.
“Rule number five — bananas are strictly prohibited, which means that under no circumstances should I ever see a banana on this ship!”
The Australian boy, Henry, starts shuffling away from the captain. Once he gets to the railing, he stops and holds up a banana. No one seems to notice except for me … thank god! What is he trying to do, get himself kicked off this boat? He throws me a devilish wink, pretends to use it like a telephone, and then chucks it overboard. An unexpected snort escapes me.
Henry sprints back into position directly behind the captain, where he was standing just a moment before (a weird choice of spot, if you ask me).
“Rule number six —” the captain says, now glaring back at me again “— no shenanigans!”
My hand shoots up in the air and instantly I regret it.
“Rule number seven — questions are to be asked at the end of a meeting, never during. Is that clear, Miss Smart?”
I nod, sheepishly lowering my hand. I was going to ask what he meant by “shenanigans” but I’m pretty sure he just meant anything fun.
“Rule number eight — no whistling. Rule number nine — no chewing gum.”
OMG! … my gum! Was I chomping? Could he tell? What am I going to do? Maybe I should swallow it? No, then it’ll stay in my stomach for seven years. That’s like three hundred and sixty-four weeks! Or is that a myth? Doesn’t matter, I’m not swallowing it. I glance around. There’s an empty teacup on the table behind me — as good a spot as any, I guess.
“Rule number ten — no spitting. Rule number eleven — no swearing.”
Nobody’s looking; they’re all too busy shaking in their boots. I casually put my finger to my lip and tap it, like I’m really concentrating on what the captain is saying. Then I lower my head, whip out the gum, twist myself around backward, stick the gum on the side of the cup, and spring back into position so fast that I think I can add a new skill to my resumé — gum-chucking ninja! No one notices a thing except Henry, who’s giving me a very enthusiastic two-thumbs-up.
“Rule number twelve — no singing. Rule number thirteen …” His voice roars so loud and intimidating, I wonder if he’s always this cranky, or if it’s all just a show for the cameras.
“Rule number thirteen,” he bellows again, sweeping an evil eye over each and every one of us, “no drama and when I say no drama, I mean no drama, no tattle-taling, no whispering behind each other’s backs, no crying, no whining, no complaining … no drama!”
At that, he stops talking. No one dares to say a word until …
“Are we done?” I whisper to the man beside me. He puts his finger to his lips and shakes his head nervously.
“Hannah!” the captain barks, taking a step in my direction. “Your last name is Smart, correct?”
“Umm … yeah.” I reply, sheepishly, secretly wanting to answer, Seriously, dude? You just called me Miss Smart a minute ago!
“Umm … yeah?” he echoes with disgust.
“I mean, yes, Captain, I mean sir, or Captain, or …”
“Both are acceptable.” He frowns.
I swallow hard. “Yes, sir, Captain, um … Captain, sir.”
Everyone snickers.
“I mean … what I meant to say was — yes, Captain, my last name is Smart.”
“Interesting … well, are you?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Um… smart, you mean?”
“Yes,” he replies.
How am I supposed to answer that? I’m doomed.
“Hannah …” The captain purses his lips into a thin, angry line. “I’m waiting for your answer.”
“Um … yes, I guess,” I finally blurt out.
OMG! Henry is behind the captain, like a mime, copying every single thing he does! If he gets caught, he’s dead, and if he makes me laugh again, I’ll kill him myself!
“Really? You think you’re smart?” The captain folds his arms across his chest. And there goes Henry, folding his, too!
“I understand that you’re on TV.” The captain’s voice is so intense that I take a step back, accidentally banging into the table, causing all of the china to rattle.
The captain studies the table behind me. Great! Did I break something? This is going from bad to worse!
“Massimo!” The captain’s voice booms. “I’m a little dry.”
“Tea, sir?” Massimo scurries over to the table, grabs the cup and instantly makes a face.
Oh no! He touched the gum! He looks completely grossed out!
“What’s wrong with you, Massimo? You look ill!” the captain barks.
“No, everything is fine, sir,” he says, staring straight ahead. A forced smile pops onto his face as he tries (unsuccessfully) to wiggle his thumb free.
“What are you waiting for, Massimo!”
“This cup, sir?” He smiles awkwardly.
“Of course that cup, Massimo! It’s the only cup I drink from while on board this ship. It’s tradition.” The captain shakes his head. “Why are you still standing there? Get me my tea.”
“Of course. Right away.” Massimo nods and scurries off, his thumb hiding my chewed-up gum from the captain’s angry eyes. Thank god he didn’t say anything!
“So, Hannah … back to you,” the captain turns to face me again. “Being on TV, you’re a big deal back home, aren’t you?”
“Um, I don’t know. Not really,” I answer, truthfully.
“Well, around here, young lady, you’re not a big deal. You’re just like everybody else … replaceable. Understand?”
“Um … I think so.”
“Good! So, I would suggest you follow the rules, save your excuses, and above all, steer clear of drama because dramatics of any kind will earn you three strikes and a one-way ticket back to Maple Ridge.”
A sly smile creeps across Piper’s face, and I know instantly that we’re not going to be friends.
3
This Wasn’t on My Bucket List
We’re moving … OMG! … this is it — the
moment of truth. We’re heading out to sea! For real!
I am one with the ocean … I will not be sick … I am one with the ocean … I will not be sick … I AM ONE WITH THE OCEAN …
I watch the shoreline slowly disappear as our boat picks up speed, and I wait … for what, you ask? Barfing … the inevitable puking, vomiting, upchucking — however you want to phrase it, I’ll be doing it, over the side, any minute now. Yup, any minute now …
Okay … so, this is weird. The way this usually goes, I should have my head over the side, losing my lunch by now, but I’m fine … never been better, actually.
I guess when you think about it, the boat is pretty big. Maybe that’s the reason why I’m not turning, like, eighteen shades of green right now. It’s so huge that it just skims right over the waves. I mean, I can’t feel a thing. What a relief! I don’t even know what I was worried about. Seriously!
“Attention, s’il vous plait. Attention please,” a tallish (obviously French) man in his forties exclaims. He’s wearing snug white pants, a light blue polo shirt, and a navy blue beret on his head. Considering I saw him giving the film crew instructions during the captain’s meeting, I think it’s safe to say he is the director of the show.
“As the captain brings us out to sea,” he continues, “please allow me to introduce myself. I am Patrice de la Fontaine, your director.” He sweeps his hand out to the right, and dips into a slight bow.
“Unfortunately, our captain feels very strongly that drama should not happen on this ship. I, however, have a show to create! Life is reality!” He looks off into the distance for a brief moment and then continues on, “We are living, breathing, feeling humans. Life is drama! Reality TV needs both … life and drama!”
We’re all standing here looking at this man and I’m sure we’re wondering the same thing — how the heck are we supposed to create drama when the captain has these big, scary strikes just waiting for us as soon as we do?
In Over Her Head Page 2