Caribbean Cruising

by Rachel Hawthorne

  Jake spun on his heel, jerked open the door, and stalked out.

  I dropped down onto the edge of my bed. “You’re not really going to tell Walter, are you?”

  “If I see Jake on this ship tomorrow evening, I will. Walter doesn’t need a gigolo on his cruise ship.”

  My head came up. “Walter owns this cruise ship?”

  “Yeah. Why do you think that we’re going on a route that’s so different from the ones most of the cruise lines take? Walter customized it for his honeymoon, and extended a special offer to the public. No sense in taking the ship out if you have empty rooms.”

  I buried my face in my hands, not really caring about Walter, or his cruise ship, or the route we were taking. All I cared about was that I’d met a guy who’d turned out to be Mr. Wrong.

  “I am so embarrassed. I believed Jake thought I was special.”

  “You are special.” Ryan knelt before me. “Look, Jake’s a player. He played you, Donna, and no telling how many other girls on this boat.”

  I came up off the bed. “We’re all players, Ryan.”

  “Look, Lindsay, I know you want something special to happen on this cruise. But not with a guy like Jake. Any dude at that table tonight would be better than Jake.”

  “Only none of those guys at that table tonight created sparks like Jake did! You just don’t get it. You don’t know what I’m looking for or what I want. You keep butting in when it’s none of your business.”

  I spun around, giving him my back. I felt tears stinging my eyes, and I didn’t know how much longer I could hold on before breaking down completely. “Will you just leave?”

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  “No, I’m not going to be okay. I feel used. Okay? Are you happy?”

  “Not particularly. But you would have felt more used in the morning when you found out this guy puts notches on his nautical headboard.”

  “Unless I never found out. Then I would have been happy in my blissful ignorance.”

  “But you deserve better than that, Lindsay. You deserve better than him.”

  He left then, and I was alone in a room that seemed suddenly incredibly empty and stank of designer perfume. Oh, gosh, I never wanted to smell this fragrance again. It would always remind me of the night I’d almost been a fool.

  Almost been? Who was I kidding? I’d been a fool. Completely.

  I went to the bathroom, located the bottle of perfume, tried not to remember how much fun I’d had purchasing it, unscrewed the cap, poured the contents in the toilet and flushed, and dropped the empty bottle in the trash. Probably an overreaction, but I felt like I had to do something.

  I caught my reflection in the mirror. With my finger and thumb, I created an L, and pressed it against my forehead.

  “Loser!”

  I walked back into my bedroom, turned off the lamp, and curled into a ball on the bed.

  I started crying. The tears just welled up from deep inside me. I was such an idiot. This whole trip I’d been so worried about losing my virginity. My obsession had tainted everything. I was such an idiot.

  Jake would have been exactly what I was looking for. A one-night stand. A perfect one-night stand.

  Damn Ryan for being right. I would have hated Jake and myself in the morning. I would have felt empty.

  Fun for one night, but when dawn came over the horizon, what would we have had?

  Nothing really. Nothing that would have lasted.

  I heard a soft knocking on my door. I was going to kill Ryan if he didn’t leave me alone.

  The knock sounded again.

  I forced myself to get out of bed and cross over to the door. I looked out the peephole. It wasn’t Ryan.

  I opened the door. “Brooke, what are you doing here?”

  “Ryan called me. He thought you might need someone to talk to.”

  I rolled my eyes. “He needs to mind his own business.”

  “He told me everything. So how are you really?”

  “I’ll survive.”

  She held up a white box. On top of it was a brown sack.

  “I wasn’t sure what your food of choice was when you’re depressed so I raided Krispy Kreme and the Häagen Dazs shop.”

  “Doughnuts and ice cream?”

  “Yeah, decadent huh? Can I come in?”

  I wasn’t really in the mood for company, but how could I turn away sympathy food? “Sure.”

  I stepped back and she came in.

  “Should we eat on the deck?” she asked.

  “So Ryan can hear us talking? I don’t think so.”

  “Okay, how about here?” She spread a towel on the bed, and put her offerings on it. “Come on.”

  I sat down, fluffed the pillows behind my back, and pressed up against the headboard. I removed a doughnut from the box. It practically melted in my mouth.

  “You know, Lindsay, ninety-nine point nine percent of all guys are jerks. They all just want to get us into bed.”

  “Supposedly they think about sex, like, once every seven seconds,” I told her.

  “More like every three seconds. It’s the reason it’s so hard to have a conversation with guys. They lose their train of thought after three seconds, and they’re thinking sex again.”

  “You know, Brooke, I’ve been totally insane worrying about being a virgin. I wanted to have a fling with someone I’d never see again, simply so I could get this being a virgin thing over with.”

  She opened a small tub of ice cream and dipped in a plastic spoon. “Look, Lindsay, I’m telling you—as a friend who has been there and done that. It’s better when the guy is special.”

  “Was Chris special?” I asked.

  “Yeah, he was.” She popped a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “I sent him a postcard from Hell.”

  “What did you write on it?”

  “Something original: ‘Wish you were here.’ “She sighed. “The thing is, Lindsay, I really wish he was.”

  And I wished I could find one guy in this world that I cared about that much.

  “I have this stupid list of all the things that I wanted to accomplish while I was on this cruise,” I told her. “Want to help me revise it?

  She grinned. “Sure!”

  x Soak up the rays.

  x Shop until I drop.

  x Drink margaritas by the pitcher.

  x Dance all night.

  x Climb a waterfall.

  x Snorkel.

  more

  x Kiss a lot of cute guys.

  x Make love

  x Sleep with a guy for the first time.

  FORGET ABOUT A SUMMER FLING.

  JUST HAVE FUN!

  CHAPTER 26

  Cozumel

  Day Seven

  The sparkling emerald water of Cozumel was exactly what I needed the next morning. The colorful garland of reefs that surround the island and the brightly colored sea life were a balm to my bruised heart.

  The Usual Suspects—as I was beginning to think of our little group—had met up early that morning and voted to do the snorkeling thing right off the bat.

  Surprise, surprise when Jake wasn’t the one taking the votes. Cindy, the bubbly girl who had helped during my mom’s wedding, was going to be our leader today.

  It seemed Jake had to resign unexpectedly to take care of his ailing mother. A part of me felt sorry for him. I didn’t think he’d really meant any harm. He was, like most of us on the cruise, simply looking for a good time.

  But Ryan had a good point. He shouldn’t have been doing it while he was working. Work isn’t a vacation. Didn’t I know that well enough?

  I tried not to let on how bummed out I was, but I felt as though the bubble had fizzled right out of me. Part of the reason was that I felt like I’d gotten exactly what I deserved.

  I’d been completely stupid. As I snorkeled through these amazing waters, I thought about how I should have been paying more attention to what was going on around me, rather than focusing on me and my stup
id quest.

  Really. Who the hell cared if I was a virgin? No one had ever asked me if I was one. The only one who cared was me, and I was finally realizing that it didn’t really matter what my status was. It didn’t define me.

  Scratching the task off my list last night had been liberating. I didn’t have to worry about it anymore. It was no longer an issue. As Brooke had suggested for my final task, I was just going to have fun! This vacation still had the potential to be the very best one I’d ever been on.

  Later that afternoon a boat took us to the mainland. Cindy had explained that we were welcome to join her excursion, although everything was fairly easy to find.

  The little group that Brooke had assembled over time voted to go off on our own. Then Ryan suggested we do something totally crazy, and we all agreed. Instead of taking a tour bus to the ancient Mayan ruins at Tulum, we decided to rent two-passenger mopeds. Brooke suggested that we partner up as we had the day before when we’d gone snorkeling.

  Which left me riding on the back end of a light blue moped with my arms around Ryan.

  He hadn’t said a single word to me all day. Not even when the gang went snorkeling that morning. He just kept watching me closely as if he thought I might do something rash—like take off my clothes, and run through the streets buck naked while screaming my head off.

  But crying my eyes out had taken care of any self-destructive tendencies I might have had. No sense in embarrassing myself further.

  The trek to Tulum took us well over an hour. Although the puttering mopeds didn’t allow for conversation, they were way more fun than riding on a tour bus.

  The Mayan ruins were perched on top of limestone cliffs, protected by the sea on one side and walls on the remaining three.

  We parked the mopeds in the parking lot provided, which was a good distance away from the ruins. We could have hopped on a bus, but we decided instead to walk the quarter of a mile or so.

  At the entrance, we could have hired a guide, but his promises to show us all the places where virgins were sacrificed wasn’t really appealing to me. I really didn’t care if I never heard the V-word again.

  We entered the ruins through a low tunnel in a crumbling wall, which had once served as a means of defense.

  Once we emerged into the ruins, the sites were something to behold. Huge stone structures that an ancient civilization had built greeted us.

  “Man, I figured looking through old ruins would take about five minutes,” Shooter said. “Looks like it might take all afternoon.”

  “We’re not on any schedule,” Ryan said. “Other than getting the mopeds back before dark. Anyone can leave whenever they want.”

  Brooke came up to me, and put her arm around me. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Sure. Look, nobody died okay? I’m totally cool.”

  “All right then. I’m going to hang out with Shooter. We might not stay all day.”

  “Like Ryan said, that’s the beauty of the mopeds. We can pretty much leave when we want.”

  “Okay. Have fun.”

  Everyone else began wandering toward the ruins, leaving me and Ryan standing there awkwardly. I knew I needed to do something, say something—

  “The Temple of the Descending God is supposed to have an awesome view from the top,” Ryan said quietly, as though he was afraid a loud noise might do some damage to either the ruins or me.

  “I’m not going to shatter,” I told him.

  He looked down at the ground. Then back up at me. “I got to thinking about what you said. And you were right. It was none of my business.” He shook his head. “Charging over the balcony like the caped crusader…”

  “Look, it’s over and it’s done, and I know you meant well, so let’s just enjoy the rest of this vacation, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I shifted my backpack on my shoulders. For today’s excursion, we’d all brought backpacks with water, snacks, and anything else we thought we might need to get us through the afternoon.

  We weren’t allowed to climb or enter most of the structures. I thought the Castillo—the Castle—was the most impressive structure from the outside. It was my vision of a Mayan temple.

  Right beside it was the Temple of the Descending God. We were allowed to climb its stairs, and Ryan was right: The view of the ocean from here was awesome. The blue waters just stretched out forever.

  “Can you imagine being the first explorers to discover this place?” Ryan asked.

  “I wonder what happened to the people who first lived here.”

  “No one really knows. It’s one of the mysteries of the world. Where did the Mayans go?”

  Tourists were swarming over the place, so we didn’t stay up there looking down for long. We visited other structures. I couldn’t explain what was appealing about looking at the rocks and stones. You’d think if you saw one ancient ruin you’d seen them all.

  But there was something mesmerizing about each one.

  Away from the main ruins, we ran across the altars. Although we hadn’t hired a guide, one was there with another tour group. He was explaining the ritual virgin sacrifices made here.

  I couldn’t seem to escape it.

  “I think he’s just entertaining them,” Ryan said. “I don’t think virgins were really sacrificed here.”

  “There is a bit of irony in the possibility, though, isn’t there?”

  Before he could answer I turned to walk back toward the Castle.

  “Hey!” It was Brooke waving her arm and hurrying toward us.

  “We found a break in the cliffs. We can get down to the beach. Come and join us.”

  The cove was made up of fine sand. The water of the Caribbean lapping at the shore was calming. I took my towel out of my backpack and spread it on the sand. Then I laid down beside Brooke.

  Ryan and Shooter waded out into the ocean.

  “I heard one of the guides say that they sacrificed virgins,” Brooke said.

  “I heard the same thing. I don’t believe it.”

  “I would think the practice would lead to a promiscuous society.”

  “Definitely. I can’t see that being a virgin would have had any kind of advantage.”

  “So did you and Ryan make up?”

  I turned my head and looked at her. “There was no making up to do. We’re buds. That’s all.”

  “Lindsay, I think you’re blind.”

  “Oh, and you have twenty-twenty vision? Shooter is guy number what of how many?”

  “Exactly,” she said. “My experience is what makes me so keenly aware of the attraction between people.”

  I laughed and closed my eyes. Brooke was as lost in her own world as I was in mine.

  “It would never work between Ryan and me,” I said speculatively.

  “Why not?”

  “Because he’s Walter’s godson, and there’s that whole trusted-friend-of-the-family thing…and if we hooked up and then broke up, there would be that whole awkwardness at family and friend get-togethers. And it’s going to be awkward enough as it is. Plus we’ll be going to the same school for a couple of years, so that’s another opportunity for our paths to cross when we might prefer that they not.”

  “So, don’t break up.”

  “Like you can control that.”

  “Not everyone has as broken a track record as I do. Sometimes things do work out for people.”

  “Sometimes,” I murmured.

  “Are you ready to finish touring the ruins?”

  I opened my eyes. Ryan was standing over me.

  “Sure.”

  He extended his hand. I grabbed it, and he pulled me to my feet. I packed up my sandy towel and, with Ryan beside me, headed back toward the ruins.

  I couldn’t seem to wrap my head around this whole concept of finding the right guy. Maybe it was more like knowing you’d found the right guy when you found him. I’d thought Jake was the right guy—and he’d turned out to be so totally wrong.

  I was still sting
ing from that realization.

  Distracted, not paying attention as we trudged back to the ruins, I looked to the side as an iguana caught my attention. I placed my foot where it shouldn’t have been or on something it shouldn’t have been on. I wasn’t sure.

  I just knew that it twisted oddly, and pain shot through my ankle.

  “Oh!”

  I dropped to the ground and bit back a curse. Ryan knelt beside me.

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t looking where I was walking.”

  “Let me see.”

  “I’m sure it’s all right. Just help me up.”

  But it wasn’t all right. Pain ricocheted through my ankle whenever I tried to put weight on my foot.

  “Oh, great!” I muttered. “This is just great.”

  “What happened?” Brooke asked as she and Shooter hurried up the path.

  “She twisted her ankle,” Ryan said. “I’ll carry you to the moped, and take you back to the ship.”

  “You’re not going to carry me.”

  “Sure I am. You can ride on my back. Won’t be hard. I hike all the time carrying weighty backpacks.”

  Terribly offended by being compared to a “weighty backpack,” I hopped on my one good foot and hit his shoulder. “I’m not weighty.”

  “Prove it,” he said.

  He turned his back to me. “Come on. Get on.”

  With Shooter’s help I managed to do just that—climb onto Ryan’s back. He hooked his arms beneath my legs, and supported me while I wound my arms around his neck.

  As he trudged up the trail, I wondered if this vacation could get any worse.

  CHAPTER 27

  It could get worse. Or at least that’s what I was thinking as I sat up in my bed with my foot elevated and ice packs around my ankle.

  It had been near sunset when we’d finally been able to get back to the ship, with me hopping on one foot from place to place—whenever Ryan wasn’t carting me around like an overloaded backpack.

  The ship’s doctor diagnosed my injury as a “slightly sprained” ankle. He’d wrapped it, and told me to keep it elevated and on ice for the evening.

  Here we were in Cozumel, where the nightlife was really something we could all get into, and I was stuck in my cabin. The others were on the island, probably eating at Hard Rock Café or Planet Hollywood. After which they’d hit the discos.