Rock the Boat

by Gia Riley

  “Well, no, but I’ve never been much for casual sex. Not like someone we both know. I have to feel something or what’s the point?”

  “Don’t bring Grant into this—he doesn’t deserve to take up another second of your time. What he did was wrong on so many levels, but now you know he’s not the one. Yes, it hurts like a bitch, but you’re free to find someone who is right for you. Someone who won’t mess around behind your back.”

  “That’s just it—there’s no way to tell. No matter how good someone is to me, it will always be in the back of my mind. I’ll always be waiting to get hurt.”

  Noelle downs most of her margarita through her straw before giggling. “Or it could be a mind-blowing, life changing experience. I have a hunch you’ll know right away if he’s the one you’re meant to be with. The universe will figure it out for you.”

  “Maybe, but I think you watch too many sappy movies.”

  “All you really have to do is believe in the process. Can you do that?”

  I shrug my shoulders, honestly unsure if it’s possible. For her though, I’m willing to try. “I’ll do anything for you, Noelle. You know that.”

  “Good. Now do something for yourself. Finish your test.”

  Two weeks later . . .

  Day One of the Cruise

  “Rise and shine, buttercup,” Noelle shouts, a little too loudly, as she opens the curtains, letting the bright sunshine pour into my bedroom.

  Peeling my tired eyes open, I groan, “Why are you so damn perky?”

  “Because we’re going on vacation!”

  She jumps on my bed, bouncing me from side to side. My stomach rolls and the alcohol we downed only a few hours ago threatens to make a reappearance. We’ve been drinking way too much lately. “I’m going to throw up if you don’t stop.”

  Finally, she sits down next to me, crossing her legs and resting her elbows on top of them. “Are you okay? I promise when he left he wasn’t angry. He finally realizes it’s over.”

  Grant somehow found out about the cruise and showed up at my door around one o’clock this morning. I hadn’t been paying attention to my phone, but when I finally did look at it, there were at least ten missed messages from him from earlier in the day. Part of me is glad I didn’t see them earlier because it would have ruined my night. “What did he say when you answered the door?”

  “He called me a viper—he knew I wasn’t going to let him near you. I should have seen him for what he was a lot sooner. Normally, I’m a really good judge in character.”

  I get what she’s saying, but the Grant I walked in on, was nothing like the version we knew for so many years. That’s what makes this so hard, I loved him because he wasn’t capable of treating me bad. He would do anything to make me happy—and it was all a lie.

  “Don’t let him ruin your vacation. And don’t start second guessing this trip. He’s not your happily ever after anymore, Lark. I know it’s hard to hear that, but you can’t get back with him. What he did is unforgivable.”

  “I miss him, or maybe I miss what I thought we had, but he’s not mine anymore. I’m fine.”

  “You’re lying, but I’ll let you get away with it because we have a flight to catch.”

  “I’m not lying. It’s different, that’s all. I never realized how much I depended on him until he was gone.” Whether it’s texting him throughout the day, or calling him just to hear his voice, it’s a void that I’m not sure how to recover from. I don’t love the man he’s become, but I miss the normalcy we shared. I miss my best friend.

  Noelle doesn’t let me wallow for long. She reaches for my hands, pulling me into a sitting position. “You deserve better and I’m going to make sure you find it. I’ll get you something to drink while you get ready.”

  “Non-alcoholic, please.” Each throb of my temple reminds me how little I slept the night before. It felt right to make Grant leave without hearing what he had to say, but as soon as my buzz started to wear off, and the quiet, dark hours of the night slowly passed, I doubted my decision. Maybe I could have gotten some closure had I taken five minutes to hear him out.

  “Lark!”

  “Jesus, I’m up. Stop yelling.” Once my feet are on the floor, I grab my robe off the back of my bedroom door, glancing at my mostly empty suitcase inside the closet. She’s going to yell at me even more when she finds out I’m not finished packing. I had every intention of doing it last night, only one drink led to another. Before I knew it, we were four deep, lounging on the couch like it was our job.

  She walks back into my room, handing me some orange juice. “If you weren’t dealing with this Grant bullshit, I’d call you out.”

  “About what?”

  “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re the biggest procrastinator. I’ve been packed for a week. Do you have anything in that suitcase?”

  “A purse and a pair of shoes.” If I’m being honest, a week ago I was going to bail on the cruise. I figured she would hate me for a awhile, go on her trip, and then come home and be so madly in love she’d forget about why she was mad at me in the first place. But I don’t have the heart to back out, especially after all she did for me last night. If anything, I owe her.

  She stands in front of my closet, fingering each piece of clothing I own, before popping a couple shirts off the hangers. “Maybe this is a good thing. This way, I can make sure you pack all your sexy outfits. I’ll be done by the time you get out of the shower and dry your hair.”

  I don’t bother arguing with her, or wasting my time trying to shove some extra pairs of yoga pants in my bag. She’ll take them out, anyway. “Nothing slutty, okay?”

  “I can’t make any promises,” she says, from her hands and knees with her head stuck inside the closet. Noelle and I haven’t shared a room since college. To say the next week will be a challenge is the understatement of the century. While she’s a morning person, I’m not. I’d rather sleep until noon every single day.

  But after a shower, I’m feeling a little more like myself. I even get butterflies thinking about the possibility of meeting someone new tonight. I could be a few hours away from the best thing to ever happen to me, or the worst. I’m hoping the worst was here last night, and is now out of my life for good. As Noelle said, I deserve better.

  I want more than memories. I want forever.

  Still, no matter how much better I feel on the outside, the thirty minute car ride from my apartment in Delaware to the airport in Philadelphia makes me nauseous. The more I try not to concentrate on my queasy stomach, the more I do. “Remind me again why we drank so much?”

  “We were preparing for the trip.”

  I slide my sunglasses over my eyes, and rest my head against the headrest in the passenger seat of Noelle’s car. I couldn’t have driven to the airport if I tried. “I think you’re better prepared than I am.”

  She laughs at my monotone response. “You better get used to drinking every night. We’re going to be doing a lot of it. You’ve lost your edge.”

  Considering I can hardly remember the girl I was before I met Grant, I don’t think I could get her back if I tried. I don’t even know that person anymore. Maybe that’s my problem—I lost myself once I became his. I worried less about what I needed and more about what made him happy. Over time, our relationship became comfortable, but the comfort I loved so much is probably what broke us. And once I found out the truth, we were too far gone to get back all the things I cherished. “I think you might actually be right. I have lost my edge.”

  She glances at me out of the corner of her eye as we cruise down I-95. “Don’t worry, that’s what this trip is all about. A new and improved Lark will be returning to Delaware in one week. Mark my words, it’s going to happen.”

  I like the idea of coming home less stressed, less emotional, and a little more human. For once, I’m going to put my faith in Noelle’s hands. Whatever she has in mind to help bring me back to life, I’ll do. There’s no doubt it will be a huge leap outside my c
omfort zone, but I’m done sitting around crying about circumstances I can’t change. Dwelling on what I lost isn’t going to make me any happier.

  For the next seven days, I’m going to take chances I wouldn’t have taken back home. I’m going to be whoever the hell I want to be. It’s not like anyone on the ship knows my story. For once, I can be anyone I want to be.

  This is my fresh start.

  Four hours later, we’re one step closer to that new beginning. As we board this massive ship in Florida, I realize how huge it really is. I’ve been in a canoe, on a paddleboat, and even on a pirate ship in Baltimore harbor. None of those even come close to the mass of steel beneath my feet.

  “What do you think?” Noelle asks, as I take in our surroundings.

  “I think you know how to plan a vacation. This is incredible. It’s like a floating city. Do you see what’s on this thing?” I ask her, as I stare at the map in my hands. “I could actually get lost.”

  Considering I grew up in a small town of only five thousand people, this ship would easily dwarf it. There isn’t even a Starbucks in my hometown, but here, I have three different coffee shops to choose from.

  Noelle guides me across the promenade, an open-air walkway lined with shops and places to grab a drink or snack, before finding the elevators leading to our deck. The closer we get to our room, the hallways narrow. The carpet becomes brighter and the décor a little more eclectic. This is definitely the kind of place to rediscover yourself. We’re blanketed with energy as the hustle and bustle of cruise life takes ahold of us.

  Once we’re mid-ship, she double checks the number on the door before moving inside our room. It’s smaller than any hotel room I’ve ever been inside, but it’s comfortable. That is until I look at the sleeping arrangements. “Why do we have one big bed instead of two?”

  “Well, it was either this or two singles with that bedside table in the middle.” She points to the small nightstand on the right side of the bed. “I figured this would give us a little more space.”

  “And give me black and blue shins.”

  She elbows me in the side, shaking her head. “I’m a dream to share a bed with. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I can only hope she’ll be spending more time with her match than in our room.

  “What should we do first?” she asks.

  I set my purse on the end of the bed and turn up the volume on the flat screen TV. It’s running through a bunch of information I’m sure we’re supposed to be paying attention to, but all I can concentrate on are the two envelopes with our names on them, laying on top of the vanity. “We should probably open these first.” I pick them both up, handing one to her before opening my own.

  Her eyes are wide when she takes the envelope out of my hand. “I didn’t realize it would happen so quickly. I thought we’d have to wait a little while before they gave us any clues about our guy.” She slides her finger under the flap and pulls out her letter. I follow suit, realizing the wait is over. In my hands is the name of my perfect match. Right away I wonder what he looks like and if his sexy name matches his personality. For all I know, he could be sitting in his room with my name in his hands wondering the very same things.

  “His name’s Lincoln Hayes III,” Noelle practically screams.

  I smile at her excitement. She’s been waiting to meet someone new for so long. If anyone deserves to find love, it’s her. “That sounds very official. I like it.”

  She flops on the bed, clutching her letter to her chest. “He’s only two floors away, Lark. Can you believe it? He could be my husband—and for the rest of our lives, we’ll have this crazy story to tell about how we met in the middle of the ocean.”

  “That would be a really great story.” But it also means I have the potential to have something similar. My match is somewhere on this ship, too, only I’m not sure I’m ready to meet him just yet. I haven’t dated in so long I’m not sure I even remember how to do it. It’s been years since I had a case of the first date jitters.

  “Aren’t you going to open your envelope?”

  She watches as I stare at it, apprehension slowly consuming me. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” When I open this letter, there will be a guy’s name scrawled across the page that isn’t Grant’s. It’s only now hitting me that this is more than a vacation. “Maybe you should open it for me.”

  She shakes her head, “No, you need to do it. This is part of moving on, Lark. It’s also part of your story. You don’t want to begin it with not having the courage to open the letter yourself. You can do this. I promise.”

  “You make it seem so simple.”

  “It doesn’t have to be complicated. True love will find a way whether you’re ready or not. Let it have a fair shot—open the letter.”

  With shaking hands, I do as I’m told. Each inch the envelope tears, I’m one step closer to finding out who’s waiting for me. By the time I pull the paper out, I can barely swallow. I’m still skeptical about the process I’m about to endure, but skeptical or not, my heart’s beating faster than it has in a really long time. I let my eyes wander over the print before whispering, “His name’s Easton Beck.”

  “Holy shit!”

  “What?” I ask her, as she grabs the letter out of my hands.

  “Lark, this could be the Easton Beck. The lead singer of Midnight Fate! Nobody’s seen the band in forever. What if he’s on the ship?”

  “There’s no way it’s the same guy. Why would he be on a ship looking for a woman? He’s probably already juggling three.”

  Waving the letter in the air, she says, “This guy right here, out of like six thousand people, is the one. Whether it’s the same Easton Beck or not, you don’t get to make jokes or say another bad word about him until you meet him. For now, let’s enjoy the thought of a rock god having every quality you’re looking for—and the looks to back them up.”

  When she says it like that, it does add some excitement to the mix, but I’ve only been intimate with one man. Grant was my first—and I thought he would be my last. We were long past the nervousness and self-conscious feelings that come along with someone seeing your body for the first time. He knew what I liked and how I liked it—just as I did with him.

  But maybe going in blind will be helpful. I already know I don’t want to make the same kind of love with the next guy I date. I need it to be different, or I’ll compare the two the entire time we’re together.

  As usual, Noelle senses me doubting myself, and prepares to give me another dose of reality. “Don’t let your mind get away from you. Stay present—focus on the here and now. None of us can predict the future, so why bother trying.”

  “What if he cheats on me, too?”

  “You can sit and wonder all day long, but not every guy you meet is going to be a douchebag. Yes, there’s always a chance it could go wrong, or he could break your heart, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try again. Trust me, I’m not thrilled about starting over with someone new either. I may act like it’s easy for me, but I’m scared shitless about letting a new guy into my world—into the life I’ve worked so hard to build from next to nothing. But I would rather take a chance on the wrong one, than live the rest of my life wondering what could have been if I would have gotten over my anxiety and tried.”

  “I’d be so screwed if you weren’t here, Noelle. I don’t say thank you enough, but thank you for helping me through this break-up. And thank you for helping me find myself again.”

  “All I want is for you to be happy. Plus, I need my partner in crime back. Lets show these guys what they’ve been missing all their lives.”

  “Deal, but what do we do now that we have their names?”

  “We wait. The letter says they’ll contact us on these pager things when it’s time to meet.”

  She hands me a round electronic pager exactly like the one in her hand. “This makes me feel like I’m waiting for a table at a restaurant instead of for my date.”

 
“Just go with it, Lark. They must have a method to the madness or we wouldn’t be here. I guess we can start unpacking while we wait. Or watch another one of these boring informational programs.”

  “I’m not sure it will be so boring if the ship goes down and we can’t find the life jackets.”

  “We’re not going to sink.”

  “That’s the same thing they said about the Titanic. The unsinkable ship sunk.”

  Noelle pauses with a hanger in her hand before walking over to the TV and turning the volume up a little louder. “Just in case,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders.

  By the time we’re both unpacked, my pager vibrates on the floor next to me. I pick it up, staring at the message blinking on the screen. Meet me in the lounge in thirty minutes.

  “What’s it say, Lark? You’re killing me.”

  My hands are shaking as I hand the device to her. While she reads it for herself, I find the map that got us to our room and search for the jazz lounge. After scanning it twice before comprehending any of the words I was looking at, I realize this is really happening. I’m about to meet Easton.

  “What the hell is this shit?” I yell to Dom, as I open an envelope left sitting on my pillow. “My perfect match?”

  Dom walks through the door connecting our two staterooms, rubbing a towel over his wet hair. It gets cramped living on a ship for months at a time, but leaving that one small door open, keeps my room from feeling like a cage.

  Already smiling, he takes the paper out of my hands. He knew about this. “Looks to me like my girlfriend is playing matchmaker again.”

  Gina’s a great girl, she really is, but she must have been a Disney princess in a past life. The chick has the most romantic soul I’ve ever seen to go along with one of the most memorizing voices I’ve ever heard. From the second I walked in on her audition, I knew she would get the job even if she jacked up the interview—she was that talented. Her only downfall is her never ending desire to find me a woman.