by Linda Gerber
Logan perked right up, just like I thought he would. “What do they have?”
I told him about Nikos’s favorite, and we spent the rest of the call talking about games—which ones rocked, which ones sucked, and why. Like I said before, I didn’t really know that much about video games, but Logan had become quite the connoisseur while he was in Ireland with his mom. I let him carry the conversation. Mostly because I liked to listen to him talk. Too soon it was time to end the chat.
“I hafta get offline before Da gets up,” Logan said.
“Can you log on tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“Same time?” I asked.
“Yer killin’ me,” he said with an exaggerated yawn, “but I’ll try.”
He signed off, and his icon went dark again. I sat still, staring at it, imagining what it would be like to talk to Logan in person again. We could go for walks together. Maybe hold hands. And then, when the setting was just right—like on a Tahiti beach under the moonlight, or in Paris at Christmas when the Champs-Élysée is lit by a million sparkling lights—Logan might even kiss me.
At least I could dream, right?
A knock on the cabin door startled
me out of my daydream. I closed the computer and rushed over to answer it.
Zoe stood in the hall, holding—more like hugging—an armload of towels. She let her eyes meet mine for only half a breath, and then she stared at the floor.
“Well, hi!” I said. When she didn’t answer, I asked, “You want to come in?”
She threw a nervous glance up and down the hallway before answering in a whisper. “I … check to see if you have plenty, um …”
“Towels?” I asked helpfully.
“Yes. Towels,” she agreed.
I’d taken only the one shower, so the bathroom was still well stocked. But I was pretty sure Zoe already knew that. It was a weak excuse to stop by, which meant she probably had something else on her mind. I stepped away from the door. “Come in,” I said.
“It is late,” she said without conviction.
“It’s fine,” I told her. “Come on.”
She stepped timidly into my cabin, and I closed the door behind her. And then she just stood there, still hugging those silly towels, still staring at the floor.
“Here,” I said, taking the towels from her. “I’ll take these. Have a seat.”
Without waiting for an answer, I hurried off to put the towels away in the bathroom. When I came back, Zoe hadn’t moved.
“Is everything all right?” I asked.
Finally, she looked up at me, and I was surprised to see the concern in her eyes. “You don’t tell?”
“Tell what?”
“It was me,” Zoe said. “I played the game.”
Oh. That’s all? I was kind of disappointed.
“You … don’t tell”—Zoe’s voice dropped—“him?”
“Him? You mean Nikos?” I asked.
She nodded and looked to the ground again.
“I didn’t say anything,” I said. “But even I did, why would he care?”
“I did not ask to play. It is his game.”
I didn’t get it. Why was she so worked up? Nikos didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would get mad just because someone played his game. In fact, he wasn’t upset when he was showing me the scores Zoe must have earned; he was impressed. “He said you were a good player,” I said. “I mean, he didn’t know it was you, but he showed me how you outscored him.”
“I know!” Zoe wailed. Which was not great for the whole stealth thing she was going for. I figured at that point we should probably bring our powwow deeper inside the cabin instead of right next to the doorway.
I took her hand. “Come on. Let’s sit down.”
She hesitated for a minute, pulling back against my grip. “Oh, no. I—”
“Please, Zoe,” I said. “I could really use the company.”
“You?” She cocked her head to one side and her face changed. Relaxed. The scared-rabbit look faded from her eyes and was replaced with concern. “You are … okay?”
“Yeah, I’m—” I was going to say I was fine, but the eagerness in her posture changed my mind. “I just need someone to talk to. Are you busy?”
She smiled that beautiful smile of hers. “No. I can … talk.”
We sat on the white couch facing each other. To be honest, I didn’t have any idea what we would talk about. It just seemed like a good thing to say at the moment. If I’d had any practice at girl talk, it might not have been so hard, but I didn’t really get the chance to hang out with girls my age that much. Okay—ever. Which was the point, come to think of it, of my mom and dad sending me to live in Ohio. They wanted me to have a “normal” life like a “normal” teenager. Only I didn’t want normal. I wanted to stay with When in Rome. And Logan.
Although I will admit I liked the idea of having a friend to talk to—even if I didn’t know what to say.
“I’m nervous,” I admitted to Zoe. “About the shoot tomorrow. I’ve never done a whole segment with speaking parts before.”
She nodded seriously. “I understand.”
That’s all it took. I spilled my whole need-to-impress-the-parents story. It’s not what I had planned at all, but Zoe listened, nodding, murmuring encouragement at the right places, and I couldn’t stop once I got going.
“How about you?” I asked. “How long have you worked on the yacht? Have you known Nikos’s family for a long time?”
“Oh. No.” She looked over her shoulder as if she wasn’t sure we were alone and leaned closer, lowering her voice. “I am not—”
But before she could divulge what she was not, someone knocked on the door. She jumped to her feet, and her eyes darted around the room. Almost as if she was looking for a good place to hide.
“Cassidy?” Victoria called through the closed door.
“Is everything okay?” I whispered to Zoe.
She shook her head frantically. “I should not be here … bothering the guest … after the bedtime. …”
“Cass? Are you awake?” Victoria called softly.
I steered Zoe toward the bathroom. “Quick. In here. I’ll get rid of her.”
She dipped her head and slipped inside just as I opened the hall door.
“Weren’t you in bed?” Victoria asked.
I realized I was still in the dress I’d worn into town. “Um. Not yet. I was on the computer.” Which was the truth, earlier. “I’m supposed to post updates on my blog every night.” Also true. I didn’t have to tell her I had already uploaded the photos that afternoon.
“I see.” She glanced beyond me into the cabin. To where my computer lay closed on the desk. “I’m sorry it’s so late, but CJ asked me to give you tomorrow’s updated itinerary.” She rattled a sheet of paper in her hand.
“Updated? But we just got it.”
Victoria nodded. “Yes, but apparently there have been some changes. We need to be ready to go ashore at seven. Do you need me to wake you?”
“Nah. I have an alarm.”
“All right, then.” She handed me the paper and took one last glance around my cabin. “Lights out as soon as you get ready for bed.”
“Got it,” I assured her, and closed the door. Then I watched through the peephole to see Victoria close the door to her own cabin.
“It’s okay. She’s gone.”
Zoe came out of the bathroom, all flustered again. “I must go,” she said.
I sighed, disappointed. Anything Zoe had been about to tell me before Victoria interrupted was locked up tight again.
“Okay. Hold on,” I told her, “I’ll check to see if the coast is clear.” I opened the door and checked out in the hallway, looking both ways before I gave her the go-ahead.
Zoe thanked me and started to dart out of the room, but I stopped her. “Anytime you want to talk,” I said, “my door is always open.”
She at me, startled. “Parakalo,” she said. “Thank you.” And then she
was gone.
In the fugitive bathroom, I brushed my teeth and washed my face and wondered what Zoe’s secret was. Besides hiding out in the game room, I mean. And as I drifted into a twilight sleep, I replayed the events of the evening. This assignment wouldn’t be boring, that was for sure.
Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.
—Aristotle
Our 7:00 a.m. sound check came
extra early because I had to show up to hair and makeup by 6:30. Nikos was lucky he was a guy and he didn’t have to sit in the chair for so long. Especially since the makeup artist—Jacqueline, she told me with a sniff—acted like she’d gotten up on the wrong side of the bed that morning.
“What is this thing?” she asked, lifting the leather cord of my charm necklace with one manicured finger.
I grabbed the necklace protectively. “It’s my good-luck necklace,” I told her. “I got it from my grampa.”
“How touching. I’m going to need you to take it off.”
I tightened my grip. “Why?”
“Darling, work with me here.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Is there a problem?” CJ walked past and peered at me over her clipboard (did she ever put that thing down?).
I settled my necklace on top of my shirt. “Not as far as I’m concerned,” I said.
“Well, let’s hurry it up then, shall we?”
Jacqueline’s lips pursed, puckering like she’d pulled a drawstring to close them, but she didn’t say anything more about the necklace. Still, if I thought I had won, I was dead wrong. She made sure I knew she wasn’t happy with me, tugging my hair as she brushed it, pulling it tight as she wound it onto heated rollers. I never thought I’d say this, but I missed Daniel and the soft touch he had when he did my makeup and hair in Spain.
I glanced at the watch on Jacqueline’s wrist as she clipped in the last roller. “Are we going to have time to finish this?” I asked. “It’s already six forty-seven.”
“Oh, we aren’t going to brush it out now,” she said. “It would just get blown around on the boat. We’ll wait until just before the shoot.”
“But …” I ran my fingers over the mass of rollers in my hair.
She slapped my hand away and yanked a scarf around my head, tying it securely on top. “This will keep them in place.”
“You mean I have to go out to the island like this?”
“Of course.” She started packing up her kit. “What did you think?”
I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t tell her what I thought. That would only make her dislike me even more. My chest felt hollow and heavy at the same time. I missed Daniel all over again. He would never have tried to make me feel small.
A sudden wave of homesickness for my mom and dad and the When in Rome crew made my throat ache and my eyes sting. I blinked quickly to keep tears from forming. Yes, I was tired and overemotional, but it was only the second day away on my adventure. No way was I going to start acting like a baby. All crying would do was ruin my makeup. And make Jacqueline angry that she had to do it again.
The smell of fresh bread caught my attention, and I swiveled in my chair to see Zoe and her mom and a lady in an apron and head scarf setting up a breakfast table on the deck. My stomach grumbled, and I checked the time. I still had ten minutes before we were supposed to begin. That should be enough time to grab something to eat.
The offerings on the table were simple: some kind of white cheese, sliced tomatoes, olives, bread, dark tea, and honey. The culture book I had read explained that a traditional Greek breakfast is based on something a shepherd could pack up and take out to the field with him. Greeks didn’t usually eat a lot in the morning. Instead, they had a pastry and some fruit or something as a midmorning snack, and ate a large lunch late in the afternoon.
Simple looked great to me, though, and my mouth watered as I waited behind a couple of the crew members for my turn at the plates.
Zoe looked up from the platter of sliced bread she was carrying and gave me a hesitant smile, like she wasn’t sure how to act around me after last night. I waved and said, “Calamari, Zoe!”
She hid her smile behind her hand, and her shoulders began to shake as she tried to hold in her laughter.
“What?” I asked.
“You say to me ‘squid,’” she said, giggling. “For ‘good morning’ it is kalimera.”
“Oh!” I laughed with her. If she only knew—squid was nothing. I’d made much worse language mistakes. “Kalimera,” I repeated.
Suddenly, Zoe’s laughter stopped. She dropped her eyes to the table and started messing around with the plates and napkins, straightening them into perfectly parallel rows.
Nikos and his dad were just arriving on the deck, gesturing and posing like they were making an entrance onto a stage. I glanced back to Zoe to make a comment about how silly Nikos looked, when I noticed she was watching him, too—with kind of a happy-sick look on her face.
Oh.
Oh!
Zoe had a crush on Nikos! Is that what she was going tell me before Victoria knocked on the door?
I thought about how upset she had been that she had played his video game without permission—especially when she beat his top score—and it all started to make sense. No wonder she acted so straight-faced and timid whenever he was around.
“Hey,” I said under my breath, “are you—”
But Zoe took off—for the safety of the kitchen, I supposed. I watched her retreat, and a new goal formed in my head. We had nine days left of the cruise. Nine days to get Zoe and Nikos together.
I took my breakfast back to the makeup chair and ate as carefully as I could so I wouldn’t spoil the color Jacqueline had painted onto my lips. The cheese, I decided, was a little sour for my taste, but I liked the bread and the tomatoes.
I had just finished eating when Nikos dropped into the chair next to mine, yawning. “Kalimera,” he said.
“Kalimera,” I answered.
He rubbed his eyes and looked at me a second time. “Nice look for you.”
For half a second, I wondered what he was talking about, and then I remembered. “Why, thank you,” I said, patting the scarf-wrapped curlers on my head. “Are you ready for this?”
His gaze slid over to where his dad stood talking to Victoria and CJ. I couldn’t read the look on his face. But then he smiled and shrugged. “Too late to back out now.”
I hated to admit it, but Jacqueline was right; my hair would have been blown all over the place on the speedboat ride to the island. As we raced across the water, the wind whipped the ends of my scarf and snaked down my sweater, making me shiver. If I didn’t have my hair rolled up, it would have been a mess by the time we reached the island.
Victoria had chosen to ride over earlier with the crew to set up the equipment, so it was just Nikos and me riding with Magus this trip. Mr. Kouropoulos was nowhere to be seen. At first I wondered why he wasn’t coming with us, but when it came right down to it, I didn’t really care. Nikos looked happier and more relaxed than he did when his dad was around.
I watched him as the boat skipped over the water, laughing into the wind, his dark curls blowing back from his face, and I was actually glad his dad wasn’t there to spoil it.
About halfway to Delos he turned to me and yelled over the speedboat’s motor. “Let’s go up front! We’ll have the best view!”
I shook my head. “Too much wind. I’m cold!” I hugged my arms and shivered in illustration, but he was unimpressed.
“Suit yourself,” he said, and climbed up to stand alongside Magus.
By then, I could see the island up ahead, a completely different world from what we had just left in Mykonos. From the boat, we could already see some of the ruins. It was eerie, knowing that so many people had once called the island home. They had lived among those ruins. They probably thought the island as it was would go on forever. I thought about what Heraclitus wrote. You can never step in the exact same river twice. Fortunes
change.
But Victoria said it was what a person does with their situation that counts. Maybe part of that meant enjoying the moment—because if all things change, it couldn’t go on forever. I pulled my sweater tighter and crawled up to join Nikos and Magus in the front of the boat.
We began filming the first segment in front of Apollo’s temple. The crew had cordoned off an area with nylon rope and already a handful of curious tourists had begun to gather. Jacqueline finally took out my hair curlers and touched up our faces as the sound guys ran one last check. Then it was time for us to deliver our tremendously corny lines. Seriously. Whoever wrote the script probably thought it sounded a whole lot cleverer than it actually did. Meanwhile, not only did Nikos and I have to say the silly words, we had to look really excited about it in the process.
I just kept reminding myself that it was all for a good purpose. If I delivered the lines for the network, maybe they’d deliver me to When in Rome. Seemed like a fair trade-off.
“Kalos irthate stin Ellada!” Nikos beamed at the camera. “Welcome to my country, Greece! I’m Nikos.”
“And I’m Cassidy.”
And then in unison, “We want to show you the magic light of Greece.”
I scratched my head. “Nikos, what is the magic light of Greece anyway? Is it really magic?”
“Well, Cassidy,” he replied, “you tell me. Look around.”
I scanned the marble ruins around us.
“What do you think?” he asked.
I winked at the camera. “Magic!”
“Cut!” CJ yelled. “Cassidy, what was that?”
My hands went cold. What did I do wrong? I know the lines were stupid, but that wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t the one who thought of them.
“You sound as if you’re half asleep,” she said.
I also wasn’t the one who changed the shoot time to seven thirty in the morning.
“Now let’s take it from the top. Nikos, your line. Ready, and … action.”
“Kalos orisate stin Ellada!” Nikos said. If at all possible, he sounded even perkier than the take before. “Welcome to my home—Greece! I’m Nikos.”
