Rose
I stared at my reflection in the tiny bathroom near the entrance to the lounge. Yup, suspicion confirmed. I looked as confused as I felt. After discussing everything that had been going on with my grandparents, they asked me if I wanted to stop being a part of the young people’s tour group.
The wrinkles between my grandmother’s eyebrows had deepened. “We can certainly tour on our own, just the three of us. Or you can go on one of the excursions with us. With everything that’s happened, I would feel better if you stayed with us. Not that I think there’s any real danger, mind you, but I don’t like seeing you so unsettled.”
Unsettled. That was a good word for it. I didn’t know what to do. On one hand, it would be a relief not to worry about whether the angry guy might be following me. Or worse, have assigned someone else to follow me. On the other hand, I’d miss getting to hang with Alexis and Sophie. Okay, and Sam. Did I really want to give up seeing that lopsided smile? The one that felt like it was especially for me, even when it was probably just the way he smiled at everyone?
I’d even gotten used to Jacques and Marie. And it was interesting to watch the drama that went on between Clio and Nick. I’d probably never know the cause of that. But still. Did I really want to walk around always looking over my shoulder for some scary guy?
And then there was my missing journal. My grandparents were both convinced that Darl had misplaced it when he was cleaning my room, and as soon as we talked to him again, everything would be cleared up. Right. How could you misplace something that was inside a drawer? But they kept insisting that I’d forgotten and left the journal out.
The more important point for me was, if Darl had nothing to do with it—and he might have—then someone had been in my room. Someone with no permission to be in my room but who did have permission to be on the ship. Just the thought of it made me want to wrap up in a blanket and hide in my grandparents’ stateroom. Would I even be able to sleep tonight?
The door opened, and an old lady with grayish-purple hair came in. I pretended to wash my hands as she smiled and went into one of the two stalls. I needed to quit worrying. Just go to Sophie’s party. Maybe by the time it was over I’d know if I wanted to opt out of our group tour with Clio in the morning.
I made my way into the lounge and joined Sophie, Jacques, and Marie in the back corner. After we had said our hellos, and I’d ordered a soda from the attentive waiter, I turned to the group. “So where’s everybody else?”
“Alexis is off somewhere organizing the party,” Sophie said with a shudder. “I’m not sure whether that makes me happy or terrified.”
I chuckled. “Terrified would be my choice.”
“I know. I keep feeling like I should grab the edge of the table and hang on for dear life.”
Jacques put his arm around her. “We will not let her hurt you.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about being hurt,” she said. “I’m worried about being completely embarrassed.”
We all smiled, even Marie, who until that moment had been staring across the room like she had some place better to be.
“And Sam?” I asked, wanting to suck the words back in my mouth as soon as they trailed out. Marie fiddled with the strap of her dress, her lips pursed as though trying not to smile.
Sophie tapped a pile of cocktail peanuts out of a tiny vase into her hand. “He and my dad are talking, on deck, I think. They should both be here soon.”
“Ah,” I said. There was a long pause while she considered me with a curious look. What did that mean? Probably that she wanted to ask me what I thought of Sam. I looked away. Heavy piano chords and nearby conversations rattled around in our silence.
Thank goodness the waiter chose that moment to return with my drink. I brought the straw to my lips to hide whatever weirdness might still be on my face. The liquid went down cool and bubbly, and Sophie turned her attention to Jacques. Was my crush on Sam so obvious? I wished for the millionth time that Lindsey was here to answer my questions.
Alexis came out of nowhere and perched on the edge of the seat next to me. “All right. Everything’s ready. As soon as Dad and Sam get here, we can have cake.”
“I wish you hadn’t gone to so much trouble,” Sophie said.
“No trouble for me,” Alexis said with an impish grin.
Sophie picked up the peanuts again but then put them back down. “That’s what I meant.”
“I know,” Alexis said, “and you’re welcome.”
Sophie just shook her head. Her expression said, “you do this all the time,” and suddenly I missed my sister Cammie and the looks we used to give each other when our little brother did little brother stuff. A strange feeling after all this time. Guess I was going to miss her when she went off to college.
Alexis looked over her shoulder, and I followed her gaze. Sam was moving toward us, his face a mask of indifference. Not exactly how a person should show up to a cousin’s birthday party. Was something wrong?
“Hey, everybody,” he said, then nudged Alexis’s shoulder as people greeted him. She moved into the seat while he took her place on the chair’s arm, one leg turned toward my chair, the knee of his trousers an inch from my fingers.
I wanted to reach over and give him a reassuring touch. Nothing too hard or soft, just enough contact that he’d know he wasn’t alone. If he even felt alone. I didn’t know. But something didn’t seem quite right.
“Where’s Dad?” Alexis asked.
“Right behind you,” Mr. Briggs said, standing beside the Flirty Lady with his hand behind her back.
Sam stiffened, but a bright smile lit up Alexis’s face. “Fantastic. Pull up some chairs.” While they busied themselves with seating arrangements, Alexis raised a hand and signaled to a waiter. Moments later, four waiters walked toward us carrying a sheet cake with lit candles, and Alexis began the “Happy Birthday” song. Everybody in the lounge joined in, laughing and clapping when Sophie blew out the candles.
And, of course, Nick came skidding in right before the end of the song to bellow out the last note. That brought a tiny smile to Sam’s face, but it was gone almost before it started. I was going to have to find out what was wrong. We could commiserate. I could tell him about my journal. He could tell me whatever was bugging him. Hopefully, the two weren’t related.
With that thought, I stared around at everyone while Sophie passed out pieces of cake. Had one of these people stolen my journal? Did one of them now know everything I’d been investigating? It just seemed so unlikely. Because it always came down to this question: why? What would motivate them to steal the journal? Was one of them the jewel thief? Was one of them connected to the angry guy and Clio? Or did it have nothing to do with either of those things? Could it be as simple as Marie stealing it because she was jealous of any time that Sam spent with me?
There were just so many questions. And I needed to decide how to find the answers. Should I try to search everybody’s rooms? But how? There were only two ways I could think of—steal a key, or go in when the cabin stewards were busy cleaning in the morning. If I didn’t go on an excursion with the group, I’d have time to do it. Yup, and one other smallish problem—the stewards themselves. Surely I’d get caught if I tried this. Ugh. I wanted to press all my fingers into my skull, but that would look weird, and I didn’t want to bring attention to myself. Make a decision already!
Sam finally moved from the edge of Alexis’s chair to the couch. There was almost enough room for me to sit between him and Sophie. Should I? I really wanted to know what was going on, but I’d practically have to sit on his lap to do it.
Nah. Lindsey’s challenge or not, I couldn’t be that daring. But maybe a little daring. I twisted my chair toward him and scooted closer. He’d just stuffed a big bite of cake in his mouth, so he put down his fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “What’s up?” he asked, still chewing.
Figured I might as well get to the point. “You okay?” I asked, making sure my voice was quiet enough that someone would have to be in our faces to overhear.
He seemed surprised. “Yeah, why?”
I watched him out of narrowed eyes for about half a minute, and he looked away. “Sam, listen. I had something bad happen today too. If you tell me what yours was, I’ll tell you mine.”
An odd look that I couldn’t interpret passed over his features, but all he said was, “Finish your cake. Then we’ll talk.”
I smiled, and he smiled back. I had to remind myself to breathe. Be careful, Rose. Passing out would be really uncool. “Okay,” I said. I took another bite of cake, savoring the rich chocolate flavor, and it was a couple of seconds before I realized that he wasn’t eating. Just staring at me, his lips curved in that half-smile. All the laughter and the conversations around us fell away. A warm sensation curled around my chest. Why did his hazel eyes suddenly look so green? And his hair so touchable?
Still watching me, he handed his plate off to Sophie, who took it without a word. He sat forward. “You done?”
I glanced down. I had half a piece of cake left, but I was so done. The intensity in his gaze reeled me in. I nodded, and he took my plate and passed it to Sophie. This time, she opened her mouth like she wanted to say something but saw that he was staring at me, so she turned her back on us. I didn’t know what exactly was happening, but I tried to ignore the butterflies zigzagging around inside me.
He scooted close to Sophie so that they were back to back, and then patted the empty couch cushion. “Come on. There’s lots of room.”
All right. I was doing it. Let’s see just how uncomfortable I’m willing to be. I wedged myself into the small spot, Sam crossing one foot over his knee to give me more room. I dragged my palms across the cushion to dry them, and then laced my fingers together in my lap. Do what Lindsey would do. Be the Lindsey. “So,” I said, raising my eyebrow.
“So,” he repeated, his eyes gleaming with humor.
“You want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“I kinda want to hear what happened to you today instead.”
“But I asked first.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you did.”
“So?”
He rested his arm on the back of the couch, running his thumb across the raised seam. “So, I’m not really happy about my uncle,” he said quietly.
I eyed the Flirty Lady. “Because of her?”
He didn’t even have to turn around. “Yeah. And I told him so.”
Uh-oh. I couldn’t imagine saying something like that to my parents. “I take it the reaction wasn’t great?”
“No. Well, at first. And then he got all ‘you’re different from your father’ and stuff, and I couldn’t think straight, so I left.”
“Why was your father even part of the conversation?”
Sam opened his mouth, and then closed it. Looked away. I waited, trying not to twist my dress in my fingers. He was so close to confiding in me. I could sense it as clearly as if someone were holding my hand. He tugged on the hem of his polo shirt and, just when I thought he wasn’t going to say anything, came out with, “Because I stupidly brought him up.”
“Why?”
He spoke in a low voice. “My dad is a jackass. He cheated on my mother, and now they’re probably getting a divorce.” I started to say I was sorry, but he kept going. “And as twisted as it sounds, my uncle hooking up with her—” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder “—feels like he’s cheating on my aunt. Even though she died years ago. I can’t shake it. And it’s stupid, but that’s how I feel. So that’s it. Now tell me what’s going on with you.”
“I know it probably doesn’t help, but I’m really sorry.”
He shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“Which is that it sucks.”
A small smile curved his lips, and he tapped my shoulder with the hand that was on the back of the couch. “Now you.”