Chapter 12
Moonlight is shining so brightly into our cabin that I can see our room like it’s daylight.
Hugh is next to me in my twin bed, our noses almost touching. He’s gazing at me with something like adoration. What is happening?! I think, confused but liking it more than I care to admit. How did we get here? Did he apologise for throwing me under the bus? He better have because he’s certainly a di— But then Hugh kisses me, so slowly, and so deeply that my toes crinkle against the sheets, and my confusion flies out the window. OK, so this is what’s happening . . . and I love it.
I wrap my hands around Hugh’s biceps and let them travel up his shoulders, fluttering against his tanned skin. His tongue is in my mouth, and I return the favour hungrily, biting gently on his lip. I feel him tense beneath me. ‘Andi,’ he breathes, whispering my name in the darkness. A shudder ripples through me, and there’s a heady pulse between my legs.
Hugh pulls away and kisses my neck, his lips searing a path towards my shoulder. I moan, gently, and his mouth returns to mine, his hand sliding around my waist towards the small of my back.
I wrap both hands around his neck and throw a leg over his torso, pulling him even closer. I feel possessive and aggressive, like even if I spread myself over every inch of his body it wouldn’t be enough. Even though we’re in a tiny room I want it to be smaller. I want every piece of myself to be pressed up against him.
He mimics my movements, his hands grabbing my ass, his lips on my neck. I feel him harden against me. Then he brings his lips closer to my ear and nibbles gently on my ear lobe. I can’t help myself. I whimper. He whispers in my ear, ‘I want you so badly,’ and I feel like I’ll explode.
I dance my fingertips down his chest, going lower and lower before flirting with the waistband of his plaid boxers. I skim my hand over the top and hear his sharp intake of breath. I glance at his face. He slides his hand from my low back and cups my breast, brushing his thumb over my nipple.
‘Andi,’ he breathes again. ‘You’re so sexy.’ And that’s when I realise what’s off. Hugh doesn’t know I’m Andi. Hugh can’t know that I’m Andi. I scramble away from him in a panic, forgetting where I am and smack my head directly into the low ceiling of our cabin, which jolts me right out of my dream.
‘Ow!’ I cry loudly. My vision swims. I shake my head to clear it and gingerly bring my fingertips up to my forehead. Then I hear a grunt from below me and remember that I am sharing a room with Hugh. What if I made noises while I was dreaming? Can he tell I just had a sex dream about him? Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God , I think, listening carefully for any movements on the bunk below me. Thankfully, I only hear the sound of Hugh’s breathing, a peaceful and steady inhale and exhale. I take a deep breath in, trying to slow my racing heart, and register that the room smells not unpleasantly like Hugh.
I gotta get him out of my head , I think, as I quietly clamber down my bunk. But watching him sleep isn’t exactly helpful in that department. His eyelashes flutter against his cheek, his bottom lip is full and pouty, and his hair is delightfully mussed. Snap out of it! I remind myself. I had done well last night, sneaking in after he was already in bed and thankfully avoiding any potentially awkward encounters. I will not argue with him today , I promise myself. Today, I will focus.
Rubbing my forehead, I grab my sweatshirt and my phone from the opposite mattress, where I’m storing all my stuff, and clamber upstairs. My eyes are puffy from crying last night and I’m glad I have some privacy in the cool morning air to try and regain some normalcy. I’m the first one out on the deck, and it feels so good to be out of the confines of our tiny room, and instead in the middle of a great expansive ocean.
The boat feels clean and fresh in the morning, and the smooth white laminate feels cold on my feet. It’s only just dawn, and there’s a grey light all around. I take a deep breath of the salty air. Only because no one else is awake, I take the hammock, gingerly climbing into it. It rocks slowly with the boat’s movement. The sun starts to rise over the water, filling the sky with deep orange, then bright, almost neon pinks. Against the bright blue of the water, the sunrise is breathtaking. I stare at it for so long that when I look away, I have a bright spot in my vision. I take a picture on my phone, including the edge of the hammock so I can remember that there is a paradise somewhere, even if it’s half the world away.
Then I remember that Millie’s had her surgery.
I feel a little sick to my stomach at the thought. The desperation of wanting to know if she’s OK gets to me, and I start to cry again. A tear escapes down my cheek as I watch the sunrise. I hadn’t factored in what waiting for Millie’s results would do to my mental health on the trip.
‘Please God, let Sal have gone gracefully,’ I whisper, the ocean breeze carrying away my words.
‘Sal?’ Hugh asks, clearing his throat. I hadn’t heard him climb up onto the deck, and now he’s standing at the edge of the platform beneath the hammock.
‘Ohmigod,’ I say quickly, the scenes from my dream come back to me and flood me with embarrassment. I sit straight up, causing the hammock to swing violently from side to side. ‘Ah!’ I scream, attempting to regain control of it before it dumps me over onto the platform.
Hugh smiles a sleepy, crooked smile and reaches out a large hand to steady the hammock. ‘I got you,’ he says.
I can barely stand to look at him so closely, his lips, his eyes, even the curve of his shoulders are doing something to me that I don’t want to admit. I want to stay mad at him for being rude and self-important yesterday. It felt like as soon as I made the mistake of thinking he was a nice guy, he wasted no time in proving me wrong. I pointedly look at the sunrise.
‘How’s your head? From the sonic boom that came from your bunk it must be hurting.’
‘It’s fine.’ I brush my fingers over my forehead, gingerly feeling the bump. ‘Oh shoot, I woke you up, didn’t I?’ I decide I don’t care after the words leave my lips, but it’s too late.
‘I was already awake,’ he says, but his eyes crinkle in a way I haven’t seen before. I wonder if that’s his tell that he’s lying. ‘Who’s Sal?’
‘Why do you care?’
‘Hm,’ He sits down on the platform and dips below my line of vision. I peer over the hammock and watch him interlace his fingers behind his head. ‘Well, if I can figure out who Sal is, and really get in your head, then I have a better chance of you never finding the butterfly wrasse.’
I feel tears pooling in my eyes. I know he’s joking, but it doesn’t feel funny to me. Finding the wrasse is all I can do for Millie, and I’m so worried about her.
‘Millie?’ Hugh asks, his voice softer. ‘I was just kidding, I’m not a complete butthead.’
I try to sniffle quietly, but I can’t. I sound like a pig as I rattle air through my nose. ‘I know,’ I whisper.
Hugh reaches a hand up towards the hammock and pats me on the shoulder. ‘Hey, I also came up here to apologise.’
‘For what?’ I sniffle again, refusing to look at him. ‘For shaming me because I forgot my sunscreen? Being a smart ass online and in person? Giving Andrew the idea we were somehow differently qualified and then changing your mind? Purposely distracting me because you don’t want me to succeed? You know what—’ I turn, gathering steam ‘—you know you’re hot and more successful and Australian, and you’re weaponising it.’ I’m so close to tears that my bottom lip trembles.
‘OK.’ Hugh puts his hands up in a surrender gesture. ‘It is way too early for these kinds of accusations. Firstly, you’re not so bad-looking yourself and you have also been a kind of a smart ass, I did change my mind, and . . .’ He pauses and shrugs. ‘I kind of thought that the joking was just . . . our thing?’
I decide to think about Hugh saying I’m not bad-looking later. ‘Being rude and unfriendly is our thing? I would never have been such an ass about sunscreen,’ I point out. ‘And you can’t just say we have different attitudes towards the field, whatever that means, and change your mind.’
‘If I do remember correctly you were a bit of an ass about my seasickness. And I actually helped you find the appropriate sunscreen?’
‘Well . . .’ I hesitate. Hugh is right, I have been an ass about him being seasick. ‘I didn’t know you actually got sick.’ I glance down. ‘I was teasing. And, in fairness, you were mean to me on the bus about the sunscreen. You started it.’
‘I wasn’t mean!’ He scoffs gently. ‘And even if I was, you would do the same thing if you were me. That sunscreen hurts the ocean.’
‘I know.’ I hang my head. ‘I’m sorry I even said anything. We can go back to being our usual rude and unfriendly selves now.’ I can feel Hugh’s eyes on me without having to look up.
‘Look, I’m up here to extend an olive branch of forgiveness then, considering there are too many things I’m supposed to apologise for.’
I sigh. ‘Oh, lucky me to be forgiven. And what, may I ask, is making you so magnanimous as to offer me forgiveness?’
‘Woah. Too early in the morning for big American words.’
‘OK,’ I reply, ‘I’ll dumb it down for you. What gives that you suddenly want us to be friends?’
‘Last night. When you jumped in the water to get that cup, I saw how much you cared. And for the record, that’s what made me change my mind about our attitudes. I’m not proud to admit it but I didn’t think you were as committed as me to the cause.’ Hugh says the last bit slowly, choosing his words carefully.
‘Of course, I’m committed.’ I turn around to face him. ‘Why would I be out here if I wasn’t? We don’t all have the luck to be born on the same continent as the thing we want to study, you know. Just because I can’t be out here all the time doesn’t make me “less committed”. You can’t use your geographical privilege to say you’re better than me.’
Hugh hesitates, scratching the stubble on his chin. ‘Fair point,’ he admits. ‘I didn’t think about it that way. Anyways, it’s cool to see someone care as much as me.’
‘Hmm,’ I grunt, but I’m softening, and he can tell.
‘I’m not saying I’ll stop making fun of you.’
‘I suppose that’s all right with me.’ I sink back into the hammock. The light is still soft over the ocean. The sun will be blazing in a couple of hours. I let a big sigh escape from my lips.
‘So, do you want to talk about it?’ Hugh asks. I can hear him settling against the platform next to me.
I open my mouth to answer that I don’t. I know that I should keep what I’m going through private. I know that even though Hugh says he wants to be friends, he still doesn’t think the wrasse is alive. I know that I should be surrounding myself with people that will help me, that believe in me.
But I also do want to talk about it. I desperately want someone else to know why I’m so worried. I want to share my burden with company so that I don’t feel so alone in this great big ocean. And if that person is Hugh, on a sailboat, with a Great Barrier Reef sunrise in the background, then so be it.
‘It’s my sister Mi—’ I stop myself just in time. ‘My sister,’ I say quickly. ‘She got some weird news a couple of weeks ago, that she has a gene that predisposes her to breast cancer, and she got a double mastectomy this morning. I knew it would be hard not knowing how her surgery has gone, but I didn’t realise it would be this hard.’
‘Woah. I—I’m really sorry to hear that.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Was this what you were talking about the day you got that not-bad-not-good news?’
I look up from the frayed hem I’m tugging on the sweatshirt sleeve. Hugh and I have been so hostile since we met in person that sometimes I forget we actually know a good bit about each other. His message that day making fun of Americans was the only thing that brought a smile to my face.
‘Yeah,’ I admit. ‘Well remembered.’ I feel like I should say something else, but I have nothing to add. I’m worried if I share too many details, I’ll slip up worse than before and say Millie’s full name.
‘I’ll be right back.’ I turn my head in time to see Hugh push himself up and head towards the cabins. I watch as he disappears out of my sight. Have I been completely naive? Why did I think Hugh could handle my problems? Why would he care about my sister? He doesn’t even know me. So much for being friends.
Grumpily, I get out of the hammock and sit on the platform, crossing my arms over my chest. I don’t feel like swaying in the breeze anymore.
I stare at the water, hoping for a turtle or a pod of dolphins to appear so that later I can make Hugh feel bad for leaving me after I opened up to him, but no matter how hard I stare at the ocean, nothing appears.
‘Millie?’ I hear Hugh call softly.
‘What?’ I growl. I purposely keep my face angled away from where his voice is coming from.
‘A little help?’
I turn to find him balancing two very full cups of steaming liquid, one tea and one coffee. The liquid is dangerously close to sloshing all over the sides, but miraculously, despite the rocking of the boat, Hugh has kept it under control.
‘When I get bad news my mom brings me tea, but I know you like coffee so . . .’
I can’t be mad at someone who brought me coffee, so I smile and gratefully accept the cup from his outstretched hand. The steam curls up towards the sky and is instantly borne away on the breeze. ‘Thank you,’ I say, scooting over to make room for him.
‘I’m sorry about your sister. If you want to talk about it, I’m here. And, for the record, I’m also sorry about what I said to Vanessa. I didn’t know she was going to get mad at you. You’re already Miguel’s favourite anyways.’
‘Oh, come on.’ I raise a single eyebrow at him. ‘He’s like that with everybody.’ I pick at a loose thread on my sweatshirt. ‘And you certainly didn’t seem sorry yesterday,’ I mumble.
‘I know—’ he throws the hand not holding his tea up in defence ‘—I know I didn’t seem that sorry. I genuinely didn’t know she would actually threaten to shorten your dives. It clearly wasn’t our fault the groups got separated. If I’m honest, I think Miguel and Vanessa screwed that up.’
‘You think?’ I gaze down at the steaming coffee and gently blow on it. ‘I felt like it was my fault.’
Hugh shakes his head. ‘It wasn’t.’
‘Well,’ I say, attempting to hold onto my annoyance but it’s draining out of me. ‘It’s OK. I want to put it behind us. I need a clear head today.’
He smiles, slightly crooked and cheeky and genuine.
A laugh escapes my lips.
‘What?’ Hugh asks, a wrinkle appearing in between his eyebrows.
‘I just realised this is probably the Hugh everyone else has got . . . you’re kind of nice.’
‘I am nice.’
‘And happy.’
‘That too. I’m more than just a hot, Australian face, Millie.’
‘We’ll see about that.’ I laugh.
Hugh’s eyes dance turquoise. ‘So, I take it we have a truce then?’ he says.
‘Truce,’ I confirm. Then I remember the shark isn’t really why we weren’t friends in the first place. ‘Except the wrasse,’ I say. ‘I’m finding that fish. Whether you like it not.’
Hugh holds his cup of tea in front of his mouth, but I see a grin bloom behind it.