Chapter 4
Megan’s been tip-tapping away at some search engine Optimus Prime thingy on her phone since we got here, while I’ve been double-checking my seven videos are ready to upload. As a thank-you, I got her a smoothie, but she didn’t pick some tasty tropical thing like I did – she got the forbidden green juice. While mine is made with pineapples and bananas, hers has vegetables and demons in it. God knows how, but she doesn’t even wince when she drinks it. Who is this sugar-free sadist I’m obsessed with?
I’ve installed some app that I can program to upload my videos to the right place at the right time with all the captions and hashtags ready to go. It was a couple of dollars, but that’s nothing compared to my internet bill if I bought a Wi-Fi pass every day.
“Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.”
I’m so excited to show her my videos. I’ve already learnt what not to do from putting my previous videos up, and even though this new style is alien to me, I think I’ve nailed it. I’ve never bothered to do the algorithm-hacking stuff properly before. I mean, I’ve seen videos of those overenthusiastic social-media gurus telling you the basics: use hashtags, but not too many; write a caption; ask a question; blah blah blah. I’ve followed those few steps, but anything past that is too much for my brain to handle.
I eagerly study her expression, but she gives nothing away. She’d smile if she liked it, right? Aw, shit. I wait another agonising minute before stopping her from watching any more.
“They suck, don’t they?”
“They’ll be fine.” She gives me a placating smile, the disappointment behind it more than obvious.
“I don’t want them to be fine – I want them to be perfect! What did I do wrong?”
“They’re funny, and you know how to hold a camera and edit stuff. You made some good choices with the music. But the actual footage… It’s… People will enjoy it, but no one will remember it.”
“Cor, don’t beat around the bush.”
“Why are you talking like you’re in ‘Mary Poppins’?”
“Something Eliza says.”
She bobs her head as if she’s saying to herself, “Yeah, that tracks.” “Sorry…but other than the clip of you guys running, you’re not in any of them. To the people who don’t already follow you, they could think this is Oscar’s page.”
I’m going to drown myself in the sea.
“I don’t think you realise you’re what people really watch the videos for. Ship life, absolutely, but they want to see you living it.”
“Are you saying I’m nice to look at?” I flirt.
She blushes, but her smile matches mine. “Sure.” Yeah, she’s trying not to give anything away, but she’s a terrible liar. “Also, the algorithm likes faces.”
I sigh, dragging a hand over my stupid face as I sink into my chair.
“Okay, so let me send you these captions, and then we can get uploading to?—”
“Wait – we’re not gonna scrap all this and start again next week?”
“No point letting it go to waste. Like I said, it’s not bad, it just isn’t groundbreaking. Consider this part of your landing page.”
“My what?”
She pauses, realising she needs to dumb it down for me. “When a future video takes off, people will go to your profile to see what else you’ve posted, so having a backlist of stuff to watch is always useful.”
Okay, it makes me feel a little better knowing it’s not been a complete waste of time.
“One more thing though.”
I hold my breath, waiting for the blow.
“You can’t tell people to like the video to help you. No one ever wants to help you – not unless it helps them.”
“That’s what Youtubers do.”
“Yeah, and how many of them wake up one day to a million views? Sure, different platform, different viewing style, but growth over there is slow because it means something different. On TikTok, it can happen in the blink of an eye, and you need to be ready for it.”
The reality of that scares me a little. I’ve already seen firsthand how sudden it can be, and that was when I wasn’t in the driver’s seat.
After some more masterminding on Megan’s part, we upload all my crappy videos, along with her certified-to-succeed captions and hashtags. As we go, she talks me through each step so I can do it all by myself in the future. But then it hits me. If she teaches me how to do all this, I’ll lose my excuse to hang out with her alone. And I can’t let that happen.
Well-intentioned weaponised incompetence: on.
What does that button say? “Privacy – Only me.” Click. “Schedule posts for 1 a.m.” Click. “Cancel upload?” Cli?—
“Maybe I should do this bit.”
I’m pretty sure us toxic boys are supposed to refuse to admit we’re wrong…
“No, no, I got it.”
“You don’t. Hand it over.”
It’s like getting in trouble with the hot substitute teacher. I’m both intimidated and a little turned-on. She finishes the upload for me while I daydream about the sound she made when she tried that ice cream last week. Crap, now I’m sporting a semi again.
“All done. Can you show me your schedule? I’ll try to film some bits for you when I can.”
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
I will never get bored of the way her cheeks pinken when I hit on her.
She snaps a picture of my schedule, then she goes to some other app and hands her phone over. What is it with this girl and all these organisation apps?Whoa – everything’s colour-coded and planned to the minute, including her free time. She makes free time an appointment. Yep, she’s definitely a Harvey. All work and no play. I wonder what would happen if something didn’t go according to her diary. She’s even got this little meet-up in there, which apparently ends in five minutes. And here I was, hoping for more time.
“What does orange mean?” I notice it’s mostly in the evenings, all staff activities and events from the looks of things.
“Things I don’t want to do but probably should.”
Oh. That makes me sad, and I spiral with all the reasons why. “But these are all fun things. Why wouldn’t you want to do them?”
She takes a deep breath. “I’m not a particularly sociable person anymore.”
I don’t miss how quiet that last word is.
“And what’s the colour for things you want to do?”
“Blue.”
I tap the staff volleyball tournament tonight and change its colour from orange to blue. I figure she’ll at least put up a fight, but she sits back and lets me tamper with it.
“Now you have to come, because I’m going, and I need you to film me.”
I refuse to lose. It’s almost midnight and we’re busting our asses to win the second semi-final against “the Shoppies”. My wrists are red-raw and stinging, but we have to win this match if we want a chance to knock the sports staff off their perch. We only need to keep our lead for a minute or so longer, and then it’s ours.
All the departments who’ve been knocked out already have stayed to spectate and cheer on anyone who isn’t a jock. It’s a good thing the guests aren’t allowed out this way tonight, because it’s getting rowdy. Where the sports staff have succeeded by using real skill and athleticism, we on the entertainment team have succeeded on our energy levels alone. We’re used to giving our all to fast-paced activities – something that can’t be said for the zen, gentle-natured spa girls who were never going to get this far in the tournament.
We almost have it when a Shoppies’ serve doesn’t get the power it needs, but then one of the guys manages to dig it out for his teammate to spike it over the net to us. Cora, who’s brand-new to the entertainment team this week, is light on her feet and gets to the ball impossibly fast, but we’re all caught off-guard, not as ready as we should be for the assist, because we didn’t think it’d get onto our side. Sunshine makes an insane dive to save us when the ball almost hits the sand, and I’m right there next to her, smacking it high for her buddy Finnto jump and ground it on the other side just as the whistle blows.
Yes!We did it!
We all bask in the glory for a moment, then we take five to catch our breaths before the final round, and I go find my sexy PR manager-turned-rival as she heads over to the water station.
“If I win…” I begin, and her attention turns to me as mine turns to the drops of water on her lips. I wasn’t that thirsty when I came over here, but now I’m parched. “You have to let me take you out sometime.”
She tries to suppress her grin. “What about my brother finding out?”
I know it’s against Bro Code, but I can’t shake the feeling there’s something here worth exploring. “Then we tell him it’s for TikTok, like we did earlier today,” I reply and take a sip from my cup to quench my sudden thirst.
She bites down on her lip, but her smile shines through regardless. “Okay.”
“And what would you want if – and that’s a big ‘if’ – you win?”
She takes a second to consider it, her eyes scanning my body, and suddenly I’m very excited about where her thoughts are running off to. “One more secret?”
She says it so sweetly, but the meaning behind her request is nothing but dirty. Oh fuck. I don’t know what I was expecting her to say, but it wasn’t that. Every fibre in my being tingles at the thought of having her against me, moaning my name.
“Deal.”
A mischievous grin twists her lips. “May the best player win.”
I’m trying my hardest to throw this thing, but everyone around me, now with the chance of beating the sports staff at their own game, is suddenly giving an Olympic medal-worthy performance. Jack’s filming from the sidelines, and right now he’s capturing nothing but evidence of me failing to rig this game. What also isn’t playing into my favour is that the jocks who’ve subbed in keep getting distracted by the view of their own teammates in front of them.
Pigs.
As if I’m not also guilty of ogling one player in particular… But still, she smiles when she notices me staring, so it’s fine.
The sports staff all huddle together after losing yet another point to my teammates’ hard work. The guys are sent off the pitch with their tails between their legs, three new ladies walking on in their place. Perfect. They’re reinvigorating their team with players full of energy who won’t spend more time staring at the asses in front of them than the ball. I pretend to care, but I’m one step closer to losing my bet and I couldn’t be happier.
They go to break the circle, but one of the girls calls them back. We watch on as a nod spreads around the ring and they disperse. It’s their serve, and I prepare myself to dive completely the wrong way, but one of the fresh-faced jockettes puts the ball on the ground instead. A conspiring glance passes between them all and then, in unison, they all strip off their tops, leaving them in only their bras and shorts.
Megan is yet again proving she’s capable of so much naughtiness when she’s not being babysat. She stands there, full of mischief, in her no doubt designer sports bra, which is doing the Lord’s work keeping her boobs in place.
Oh boy, what I wouldn’t give to have them smother me.
I want to thank each and every one of them for this stroke of genius.
Their strategy works almost instantly. Their serve flies over the net, hitting Finn square in the face while he’s distracted by the view.
“Aw, come on, man!” I shout at him, faking disappointment.
I look back at Megan and her previous confidence seems to be waning. Her eyes scan the crowd, and I can sense her self-consciousness rising.
Don’t worry, Gem. I’ll get the attention off you.
“I’m not going down without a fight!” I pull my T-shirt off and toss it to the side of the court, earning a bunch of wolf-whistles and cheers from the other departments. Without hesitation, the other men on the team join me.
“Now, now, children. Keep it clean.” Sunshine mothers us.
“All right, easy. Nothing below the belt!” the crew activities manager shouts over the noise, and I turn to see Finn pulling his shorts back up, a cheeky smile filling his cheeks.
I insist I’m trying out a “don’t let them know your next move” strategy that just isn’t paying off yet when Cora scolds me for letting the ball drop a third time. It’ll never pay off. Or rather, it will…but not for my teammates.
The professionals gain points fast. Surprise, surprise. Though not entirely because of my intentional fuck-ups, nor their missing clothes. They’re athletic and agile, and holy shit, Megan looks so hot right now, competitive and almost naked. I’m so glad she came along to this.
Thwack.
The ball hits my chest then falls to the floor, and the whistle blows. That was the match point I just cost us, and for the first time it wasn’t actually intentional. There’s laughter from the stand and praise for the girls for clawing their way back to first place.
Sunshine tuts. “Boy, get your head on straight.”
“Sorry, Mom.” I wind her up.
She smiles as she struts off with the rest of my crestfallen teammates.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m sorry,” I say to everyone else, but I can’t wipe the grin off my face. It feels as if a swarm of bees has entered my bloodstream. But, like, happy honeybees. There’s no stinging, only a fantastic buzz, as I wonder what secret Megan and I will be keeping after tonight.
I head over to Jack, collect my shirt, and put it back on, feeling Megan shadowing me.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you. Commiserations. Looks like you lost your bet.”
“Yeah, it’s been a rough night.”
We glance at each other out the corners of our eyes as we wipe the sand off our bodies, and something unspoken passes between us. Is she as excited for this as I am? I watched her fight to win this game. If she didn’t want to win our bet, she would have done what I did and sat back.
“Want me to walk you back?” I offer.
“Sure.”
Jack has the impressive ability to seem a million miles away from a conversation happening right next to him while still paying close attention to every subtle detail. It’s a skill he picked upwhile moving from home to home in the care system, and though it makes me sad to think he had to live like that, now, it’s as if he has superpowers.
He glances at me, no need to say what he’s going to do next.
There are enough sports staff around to assist with the tidy-up, though it seems the trio of jocks with wandering eyes is doing most of the work, so the three of us grab the last of our things and follow the crowd. People begin to break off, but as we get closer to her cabin, Megan notices Jack still walking with us.
“To stop people talking,” I tell her.
She settles with that, maybe not realising how quickly we’d get found out if people watched me follow her back to her cabin alone.
When we get to her door, there are too many people still walking around, so all three of us enter her room. She flicks the light on, the door closing behind us, and when she turns around she startles at Jack’s presence, clearly expecting him to have stayed in the hall.
“Just until the coast clears,” he says.
She worries her lip but proceeds to remove her trainers and clap the sand off them over the bin like we were taught. I do the same after her.
“No way did you get a Jack-and-Jill cabin.” Jack marvels at her room. It’s single occupancy, only one bed against the wall with no bunk above it. There’s another room exactly like it through the other side of a shared bathroom. These rooms are typically reserved for actors or headline entertainers. They’re still shoeboxes, but they’re private shoeboxes.
“It’s the cabin I was assigned when I got here.” She shrugs as if she doesn’t realise the significance.
We don’t need to ask who got her bumped up to a better cabin. I’m jealous for past me, who had to put up with loud (but lovely) Daniel, though I’m not jealous for the me who found Jack, and I’m not jealous for the me who’s about to enjoy all this privacy.
Jack picks his moment to go, and I hope our efforts to stay inconspicuous have worked. It’s not exactly something I’ve done before, but while it’s this busy in the hall, and given who Megan is related to, it couldn’t have hurt to have him escort us like some untouched innocents from Bridgerton.
The tension between me and Megan is palpable. We’re both covered in sand and sweat, and judging by how neat and tidy her room is, I don’t think she’ll appreciate us getting it dirty. But something in the air tells me asking for a shower might be a little too forward. From what I know of her so far, she’s an “act now, think later” kinda girl, and maybe her mouth was a little bolder earlier than she actually wants to be.
I take her hand in mine. “What does one more secret mean to you?”
“Stay here tonight?” she requests like it’s a question.
She pulls my hand towards her, and I accept her offer with a kiss. My hands go to her waist as she snatches my lips with hers, the taste of her making my mouth water. So much better than sorbet.
She pulls back for a second. “I’d really like to shower though.”
A soft laugh leaves my lips. “Yeah, me too.”
“Do you want to go first?”
First. Not together.
“You go ahead. Just don’t use up all the hot water.” I smile, and she slips off to the bathroom.
Alone in her cabin, I take it all in. Exactly like her diary, it’s expertly organised. We have weekly inspections, but the next one isn’t for another few days, and it’s not like she knew she’d invite me back tonight, so does she keep her room like this permanently?
I pass the time by peeking at the photos on her wall. And then the question I haven’t had a moment to ask resurfaces: what’s on her brother’s photo stream? Whatever it is, it’s clearly flattering if it made her have a crush on me all this time. Not knowing is killing me.
On the wall is a cute photo of her with her dog, and next to that, there’s a picture of a little girl in a hospital bed. She’s hooked up to oxygen and wearing a colourful wrap around her head. She’s got the brightest gap-toothed grin as a princess holds her tightly and poses for the camera too. Looking closer, I realise the princess is Megan.
Emotions I wasn’t ready for overtake me. Was that her job before coming here? No – she ran social media accounts. Some voluntary charity work then? What a woman. What a brave and kind and strong?—
The shower cuts off and I panic, feeling like I’m about to get caught looking at something maybe I shouldn’t have seen. I flap for a second before perching on the end of her bed and pretending to check my phone until she comes out.
She looks as sexy as hell in a short pink towelling robe, a hairbrush in her hand ready to go through her wet hair. But despite how insanely attractive she is, I don’t feel uncontrollably horny. Instead I want to snuggle and swap stories with her, because learning about who she is matters more to me now.
“All yours.”
She passes me a clean towel and a spare toothbrush from her closet, and I head to the shower, but not before turning back and stealing a quick kiss.
There’s so much I don’t know about her. She has a whole life off this ship, and up until today, I haven’t had the chance to talk to her about it unsupervised. I only know bits and pieces, like what she’s good at, and I know her energy. But I don’t know her.
“I would have regretted it.”
Her words cut me all over again. But I’m back here. She didn’t regret what happened, only what could have happened… Yeah, I can’t let us get carried away tonight. Without prying eyes and eavesdropping ears, I want to get to know her.
When I come back out of the bathroom, she’s changed into the cutest little silk shorts-and-shirt combo. The big light’s off and her reading light is on.
“I, uh…didn’t think about not having any clothes to change into,” I explain, gesturing to the towel wrapped around my waist.
She gets up from where she was sitting on her bed and guides me to the end of it, my pulse quickening as she sits me down. She straddles me, and my plan for a get-to-know-you session is momentarily forgotten.
“Thank you for making me come tonight,” she says.
“Already? Jeez, that must be some kind of record!”
“Tom!” She giggles, and the way her body vibrates against mine as she does feels out of this world.
“Oh, come on, that was the perfect setup – you can’t blame me for jumping on it.”
She smiles and strokes my damp hair.
“I’m glad you had a good time,” I say with more sincerity.
Her mouth finds mine and I sink into the sensation. The pull slowly intensifies, and when I feel us about to fall backwards onto the bed, I take it as my cue to break the kiss.
“So, are we gonna talk about the fact you knew who I was?”
She pulls in her lips so they form a line. “Depends. Did you think it was cute or creepy?”
“Are you kidding? It was the best news I ever heard! I’ve been dying to find out what exactly it was that made you so obsessed with me.”
She buries her blushing face in her hands and groans. “Oh Godddd.”
“Don’t be shy. The truth’s out now. I don’t see what other choice you have but to own it.” I gently pull her hands away from her eyes. “So go on – tell me. What did you see? Or has your brother talked about me too? You know what? Start from the top. Tell me everything you have on me.”
She takes a deep, meditative breath. “I knew you did comedy.”
“Mm…” I lean back on one of my hands and reposition my other on her waist so I can remind myself how soft her skin is under her shirt.
“I knew you were Eliza’s best friend.” She runs her finger lightly along my cheekbone.
“So I’m not your brother’s best friend?” I’m pulling her leg. I already know the answer.
She raises one eyebrow at me. “Are you?”
“Not his best, no… What else? Oh! Did you see me in drag?” I sure hope she did.
She straightens with delight, trying to imagine it. “What? No! When were you in drag?”
“Staff talent show. I’ll find the clip for you tomorrow, but you’d better prepare yourself, because I looked hot.”
“I believe it.” She smiles and I kiss her, because I need to feel it against my lips.
I let us fall backwards this time, allowing us a moment to enjoy each other before I get back to business. “So, what should I know about you?”
“I knew one more thing.”
I’m pleased she’s still sharing. “Oh yeah?”
“I knew that at one point…you liked Eliza…as more than a friend.”
I take what I said about being pleased back. My hands still where they were stroking her. Did it just get hot in here? I try to laugh it off. “Came up in conversation, did it?”
“Kind of. We were picking on Oscar about the new girl in his photos for a while, and then one day, he had enough and said you guys were an item. But then the next thing we know, they’re together, so…”
I swallow my embarrassment, not letting myself dwell on what wasn’t meant to be and has since worked out for the best. So Megan knew that, and yet she still wanted me when I arrived? Still wants me now?
“Can I ask, did you guys ever?—?”
“I don’t think it’s fair for me to share the details about our very brief fling.”
She reflects on that answer for a second, agreeing.
“But what we didn’t do was sleep together, if that’s what you were wondering.”
I assume her momentary silence is from the relief of learning this, but it doesn’t show.
“Do you still like her like that?” She’s not asking for her brother.
“Not like that, no.”
Whatever worry was in the back of her mind seems to ease, because she strokes my hair again and kisses me.
“Did you know I kissed your brother?” I admit, just to lighten the mood.
She sits up straight in horror. “What? Ew! Why would you do that?”
“Because I clearly have a thing for Harveys.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“You can’t say that – it’s almost Pride Month!”
“No, stupid, not because— Ugh, you know what I meant.”
I giggle and pull her back down. “Relax. It was for a party game.” I kiss her again, but she’s as stiff as a board.
“So gross.”
“Hey, don’t kiss me and then say gross!” I roll myself on top of her, enjoying the sound of her laughter as she looks up at me.
“So tell me, what should I know about you?” I repeat, not missing the way she tenses.
“There’s nothing really to know about me.” She shrugs innocently enough, but I can sense something’s off.
“Okay… So what made you come work on a ship?”
Her cheeks begin to flush. “Uh…I just felt like it, I guess.”
“Cool. And what were you doing before?”
“Nothing noteworthy.”
“I thought you were managing social media for someone.”
“Oh, yes, I was doing that. You’re right.”
This wasn’t meant to be an interrogation, but it’s quickly become one. What could she possibly not want me to know? She kisses me, her hands reaching between us to where my towel is wrapped around my waist. If there was ever a diversion tactic to stop a guy talking, it would be this. What is she hiding?
“I wanna know you, Gem,” I implore.
“There’s nothing to know about me.”
It’s starting to hurt, how desperate she is to keep me in the dark. “Is there nothing to know, or nothing you want me to know?” The words are out before I can rephrase them a little more graciously.
Suddenly seeming so small, she looks away and reaches for the water bottle on the nightstand. I shift onto my side to let her sit up, and she drinks for too long. I can’t see her face, but I know she’s thinking of a way out of this conversation.
“Megan?”
“Mm?” She makes no move to turn back.
“Look at me.”
Defeated, she glances my way, revealing teary eyes, and my heart breaks. Holding my towel, I carefully but quickly move to comfort her.
“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I wanna get to know you, that’s all.”
“You would hate me if you knew me.” A tear falls down her cheek, but she wipes it away.
“What do you mean? Of course I wouldn’t. Why would I hate you?” I wrap my arm around her and wait for her to know that she can count on me.
“Because everybody does.”
I ache hearing her say something so awful about herself. “I really don’t think that’s true. What possible reason could they have to hate you?”
Her bottom lip trembles. I really don’t want to push her, but I have to find out what she means, because I know it can’t be as bad as she thinks it is, and I want to make it all better.
She shakes her head. “Tom, I can’t. I came here to start over.”
I wait a few more seconds to see if she’ll change her mind, but she doesn’t.
“Okay.” I’m not entitled to her story, no matter how much I want to be a part of it.
As she puts her water back on the nightstand, her phone lights up, revealing how late it is.
“Do you still want me to stay?” I ask.
“Do you want to go?” she counters. There’s so much pain in her eyes, but her tone is understanding.
I never want to leave her side. “No.”
“Then I’d like you to stay.”
She heads to the bathroom to wash her face of tears, and I find my boxers to put on, because being naked feels inappropriate now.
We get settled into bed together, her as the little spoon, and I let her fall asleep while my mind races with all the possibilities of what happened to her before she came here. I wonder what could be so awful that she can’t tell a soul. Not even me.
I’d always keep your secrets, Gem.