Vacations from Hell
“Are you sure about the bikini?” I ask now, self-conscious. I don’t bother looking at myself in the mirror. I already know what I look like. Medium boobs, shoulder-length brown hair, not too big, not too small. Just call me Goldilocks. Average, average, average. My eyes are cool, though. I’ll admit that. They’re kind of green and brown and blue. Swirly.
“Kristin, if you wear that hideous one-piece there is a zero percent chance you’ll pick someone up. Less than zero. Minus one.”
See that’s the other thing. I don’t actually have a candidate in mind for the big event. First step: find guy. Second: reel him in. Third: do it.
No pressure or anything. I take a deep breath.
Except what guy will give me a second look with Liz lying on a pool chair by my side? Liz, with her white string bikini, waist-length wavy red hair, and legs that are longer than my entire body. She’s the Little Mermaid come to life. I bet she’d be fine if the boat pulled a Titanic. She’d toss her hair and twelve guys would give up their life rafts to save her.
I unzip my bag. “All right, I’ll change.”
“Hurry up. I want to be there when the boat—”
Before she finishes her sentence, the floor beneath us shifts. I look out through the window and over our balcony and see the pier drifting away.
My knees are shaking. Is this what they call sea legs? Or maybe I’m just nervous about what’s to come….
According to the map in our room, this boat has twelve floors. Twelve floors! How crazy is that? Maybe boats aren’t as bad as I thought. In fact, maybe I’ll move in forever. There’s a spa, a hair salon, a gym, a library, a gazillion rooms, a dozen restaurants. Four pools. What else do you need?
There’s already a girl about our age on the elevator when we step on. She’s blond and tiny, and her skin is flushed red, like it’s just been scrubbed.
“Hi,” Liz says with a big smile. “Are you going to the pool on level twelve?”
Liz talks to everyone. She has no fear. I, on the other hand, feel like I’ve swallowed a hundred butterflies when I have to talk to a stranger.
The girl nods. “Yup. Level twelve is supposed to be the best one. It’s all outside. And I need to start tanning immediately.”
“I’m pretty pale too,” Liz says. “So what do you think of the ship?” “Nice. It’s my first cruise.”
“Mine too,” I blurt. It wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more fearless.
“Are you here with your family?” Liz asks.
The girl plays with the ends of her blond ponytail. “Yeah. I’m here with my insane mother. She’s already taken practically a bottle of Vicodin and passed out. She’ll probably sleep through the entire four days. She was supposed to be on this cruise with her new boyfriend but he dumped her last week. Not that I blame him.”
Well. That was a lot of info. Liz and I give each other a look, but then turn back to the girl. “At least you got a cruise out of it,” I say.
She snorts. “Lucky me. It’s a crappy time to go on a cruise. Did you guys read the National Eagle this week?”
Liz shakes her head dismissively. “I don’t read tabloids.”
Me neither. Fine, sometimes I do. “Why? What does it say?”
“Do you scare easily?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you.”
The doors slide open. Ow. Majorly bright. Good thing I have my anti-UV, anti-glare, anti-any-light-getting-through-these-suckers glasses. Must protect my best asset. I slide my sunglasses over my eyes and adjust my cute new straw hat.
We survey the scene. There’s a huge rectangular sparkling pool, two kitschy thatched-roof bars, and a pool-side terrace restaurant. The deck is packed with people. “How about over by the deep end?” I ask, pointing to a bunch of empty blue and white striped lounge chairs.
“Come sit with us,” Liz tells the new girl.
“Thanks,” she says, smiling. “If you’re sure you don’t mind. I’m Hailey.”
We introduce ourselves as Liz swipes three pale peach beach towels from a bin and claims the empty chairs.