Page 72 of In the Same Boat

‘I’m great,’ I insist.

She laughs at me, like I’m being weird, but she doesn’t quite know why.

‘Fair enough – see you at breakfast.’

‘See you at breakfast,’ I reply.

She heads out, closing the cabin door behind her. I fall backwards against my pillows and stare at the ceiling.

How has this got out of hand so quickly? What were we thinking, coming up with this plan, thinking it would work? Is it working? Because my dad actually looked happy for me. The only thing that could make this worse would be me ruining his happiness for himself, and his happiness for me.

The plan was supposed to be foolproof. A way to get rid of Sammie. Instead I’m, what? Having sex dreams about her?!

I need to sort myself out, shake off my dream – no, no, not like that! I mean I need to get a grip on myself – why does everything sound so dirty all of a sudden? Is it because I fancy her? Obviously I do, on a physical level, but on a personal level the two of us just don’t gel.

None of it changes what the actual goal here is, does it? It was just a silly dream. Getting off the boat, that’s the real dream, that’s what I really want… isn’t it?

16

SAMMIE

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t grateful that my mum wasn’t in our cabin when I arrived to get changed.

I darted from Nico’s cabin to mine and Mum’s, still only wearing his T-shirt, which now that I’m really looking at it, I can tell is aWar ZombiesT-shirt. I know it’s a huge video game franchise, not that I’ve ever played it. I know from pop culture (and the name, obviously) that the aim of the game is to mindlessly murder hordes of zombies. To be honest with you, it sounds almost therapeutic. I can see myself now, after a long day at work, going on a rampage with a shotgun. Oh, in the game, obviously.

It’s funny, if Nico sells video games for a living, then he technically just used me as a sort of comparatively small travelling billboard. I wonder if they gave it to him for free at work, if it’s special to him – either way, it’s kind of him to let me borrow it.

I keep looking at myself in the mirror, asking myself, Sammie, why oh why did you choose last night of all nights to become a sleep snuggler? I’ve never been a snuggler – I’ve never really had anyone good to snuggle – but you would think if I had form for it, I would have invaded my mum’s space too. Oh, it just had to be with Nico, didn’t it? Of all the people I could embarrass myself in front of, why wouldn’t it be anyone but him?

I drag both hands over my face with a groan. Make-up, that’s what I need, to hide the surely permanent pinkness in my cheeks.

What must Nico think of me? Seriously. Because there are only so many ways to interpret why I did what I did, and none of them are especially dignified. Maybe he thinks I’m secretly obsessed with him. Maybe he thinks I orchestrated the entire thing deliberately. Or maybe he thinks I’m just a regular-degular pervert.

I grab my make-up and head into the bathroom before I can spiral properly.

The en-suite mirror is not my friend this morning. It’s too brutally honest. I splash cold water across my face and stare at myself for a second.

The more I think about it – and you just know I’m overthinking it – the more I feel like Nico can’t possibly think I set all of this up because I’m into him. If I remember rightly – and we did have quite a few drinks, so forgive me if I’m a little hazy on the details – Nico was the one who suggested this ridiculous plan in the first place. If anyone is the pervert, it’s him, surely?

That said, I didn’t shut it down, I went along with it. I willingly went to bed with him, slept in his bed, draped my body over his while the poor man slept. I still can’t believe I did that – I swear it was an accident, that I did it in my sleep, but then again I did notice how good he smelt, how comfortable his chest was to lie on – but that’s all circumstantial. I absolutely did not do it on purpose.

I put on enough make-up to stop myself looking like one of the zombies on Nico’s T-shirt, brush the knots from my hair and put on one of my dresses. I could very nearly pass for a human.

I finish getting dressed and take a few deep breaths before leaving the cabin. Right – time to get this show back on the road.

The deck is already flooded with the bright morning sun when I finally emerge outside. I love the way the sun makes the whole marina twinkle. Light bounces off the water, the shiny yachts, the metal fixings – I saw light pinging off a woman’s huge diamond ring yesterday. Only in Monte Carlo, eh?

The smell of breakfast hits me immediately. Ohhh, it smells so good.

Breakfast is served, already waiting at the table for me, and so are Mum, Hank and Nico.

Nico looks cool, calm and composed. I don’t know how he does it. I can feel the contents of my stomach fizzing in a way that I desperately hope doesn’t interfere with my breakfast.

‘Morning – again,’ Hank says, far too brightly.

‘Morning,’ I reply cautiously.

‘Good morning, sweetheart,’ Mum says. ‘Did you sleep well?’