Page 1 of The Troll’s Summer Flame

Chapter One: Andrea

“Yes, I’m just... running a little... Where is he?” I’m panting as I slip my strappy summer sandal on over my foot, and I drag my last suitcase to the door. I need Meghan to get off the phone so I can find Chopin and make sure my UltraRyde is on the way.

“Who? Not Mr. Right, girl, because all of them are right beside me, sipping daiquiris and giving me the eye. Shane and Danica are already taking selfies with an entire law school fraternity under the Set Sail balloon arch. This is going to be insane!”

It is, and that worries me just a little. I need excitement, but I don’t want to end up on the internet as “drunk girl tries to kiss half of law school graduating class.” I don’t want my first year of teaching to be my last one.

“No, not Mr. Right, Chopin,” I puff, doing one more circuit around my apartment, looking for my cat. Yes, he’s named after my favorite composer.

“He’s probably under the bed. You need to leave, like, now. It’s going to take you three hours to get to the dock, and then they have to check your passport and stuff.” My cousin sounds slightly panicked. “If you miss the boat, you’ll have to charter a helicopter and get airdropped onto the deck, like they did in that old I Love Lucy episode.”

“My broke ass cannot possibly afford to charter anything bigger than a bicycle,” I grumble, looking under the bed, my unease growing. “Damn it, Meg. I really need to go. I was making sure I took the trash out before I left for the week—”

“Ten days. Seven on board, three in glorious Bahama Mama Nassau!”

“Will you stop? You sound like a commercial for Vacay-go-go. I’m worried Chopin got out when I took the garbage down to the dumpster!”

“What? Well... Well, he’s a cat. Won’t he be okay for a couple of hours? He’ll probably be waiting at the door when your pet-sitter gets there.”

“But what if he’s not? What if he’s really lost?” I lick my lips when they dry out, like they always do when I’m nervous. My palms sweat, and my mouth turns into sandpaper. It’s been that way since I was six and had my first piano recital, with my mother’s entire family from Manila sitting in the front row, cameras up and ready. My mother was dead center, staring through me, her arms crossed, rosary clutched in one hand, mouth moving silently in prayers that still echo in my ears whenever I cross a stage, whether it's to conduct a bunch of kids through Frosty the Snowman or knock out a Mozart Concerto... “Please don’t let Andrea mess this up.”

“Cats are liquid! Did you see they actually did a study about it? He’s totally hiding from you in some tiny little space where you’d never think to look. Oh, God! He might be zipped into your luggage! Did you check?”

“No!” I gasp at the ridiculous (but possible) idea and start grabbing my suitcases back from their place by the door. “Chopin? Chopin, good boy, don’t do this to your mama right now!” I beg, ripping open zippers, throwing bikinis and sundresses over my shoulder.

“If you don’t leave in the next twenty minutes, you aren’t going to make it.”

“I’ll make it, I’ll make it.”

“If you don’t make the boat, you can still fly down to Nassau, right?”

“I am going to make it, Meghan!” I snap. “You’re right, he’s probably holed up in some hiding place I haven’t discovered yet.”

“I hope so. I have your excursion pass, and I have your welcome sunglasses from this cute steward, and—”

“I love you, I’ll be there soon. Don’t let Danica get drunk and fall overboard,” I groan.

“God, ask me to move the sun a little to the right, why don’t you?” Meghan grumbles. “Oh, no. They’re doing shots. Don’t they have any rules about serving alcohol before noon?”

“Danica and Shane specifically told us this was considered a ‘booze cruise,’ remember? And you said nurses and teachers could outdrink the professional seventy-something cruisers.”

“If you’d have listened to your aunties and become a nurse like the rest of us, you would know we can outdrink teachers, too,” Meghan quips. “Oooh! Shane said she signed us up for the Limbo to Lunch party. I have to run, sweetie!”

“The cruise is already serving food? We were only allowed to board at 11:30. You’re still at the dock until three!” They’re already drinking, and meeting hot guys, hot guys with money and law degrees, and having limbo contests... In other words, I’m missing out already.

I pile everything back into my suitcase, wincing at how my neatly packed bag is now a disaster zone that will barely zip. My phone buzzes in my hand, a notification that my ride is here. “Meg! My ride is here! They charge a waiting fee after three minutes. What the heck am I supposed to do?”

“Leave the cat! He’s just hiding, girl!”

“I can’t leave him until I see him!” I hiss, dragging my bags behind me to the door.

“You can get a new cat?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Look, if he’s lost, the cat sitter will tell you, and they’ll look for him.”

“And what will I do, jump into the Atlantic and swim home to help? He’s my responsibility, not hers!”