Chapter Twenty

Day at Sea

I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I hadn't 100 percent hated karaoke as I laced up my running shoes the next morning. We were starting our day at sea with a 5K run/walk for charity.

"Remind me why we're doing this again?" my dad asked.

"Because Mr. Ramirez will be there," I said. "Forget good causes. It's all about sucking up to your boss."

"I know you're joking," Mom said, "but thank you."

Dad winked at me.

There were options for a mile or a 5K. Mom and Dad were doing the mile with Tanner's parents, even though they were capable of the 5K. Mom and Mrs. Woods regularly attended spin and Pilates classes, and my dad ran three mornings a week. But apparently a mile was enough to impress the boss. Tanner and I were doing the longer run, which involved multiple laps of the outdoor track on the upper deck. We joined Tanner's family there.

"I'll make sure to wave when we lap you," Tanner told his parents.

"I won't," I said. "I'll be in the zone."

Tanner laughed. Using the band on my wrist, I pulled my hair into a ponytail.

Tanner tugged it gently. "Your hair is long."

I'd always worn it that way. I got it trimmed once or twice a year, nothing more. Another easy decision—I liked it fine, so I didn't think about it.

As we stretched, Tanner asked, "Aren't you glad you tried those breakfast foods? They were better fuel than toast."

"I don't know if bacon counts as healthy fuel."

I'd tried a custom omelet, and Tanner had brought five different levels of bacon crispiness so I could find the right one. I'd refused the French toast because I was full from the omelet, and because bread soaked in eggs sounded weird. Tanner had put the toast beneath his giant cinnamon roll and eaten them together.

"Are you sure all that food was a good idea before exercising?" I asked. "If you puke, I plan to keep running."

"Savage," he said. "I approve. And I'll be fine."

The longer distance runners began first, and Tanner and I set off at a decent pace.

"So why running?" he asked. "I understand the pole vaulting, since it's basically math and physics in athletic form. But you're tall. Did you ever try basketball or volleyball?"

"Coaches always wanted me to. When I hit this height in eighth grade, they were begging. I didn't mind either sport, but I didn't love them enough to play more than a season. Mom kept hoping I'd stick with one. She wanted to be one of those soccer moms who yelled a lot, and she can in track, but there's less opportunity."

"Can I come to your next track meet? I'll happily heckle the other runners or complain to the ref. Wait, are there refs?"

"There are line judges and starting judges, people to make sure you stay in your lane or don't start too early or no one trips anyone."

"Have you ever tripped anyone?"

"Not on purpose."

He twisted to look at me, glee on his face. "But on accident? Please say yes."

"Remember your mom's nice birthday dinner where you made fun of the giant road rash scrape on my leg?"

"I didn't make fun. I asked if you had a run-in with a gravel monster. It was a legitimate concern. What happened?"

"My feet clipped someone. We both went down."

"Ouch. At least football players wear pads."

"I remember plenty of injuries of yours. Strained hamstring, broken finger?"

"Yeah. It can be rough."

We had reached the starting area and dodged the walkers before our path cleared. "But you want to keep playing in college?"

"Um. Yes. Remember? That's what I plan to major in."

"That's not a thing."

"Well, then, where are you with finding something else? I feel like we aren't making progress."

"I have ideas. You just don't get to hear them yet."

I did have a growing idea. After spending so much time with him this week, I'd learned that he wasn't what I'd expected. That had made the task more challenging, but I was on the right track now. Metaphorically.

"It's hard to imagine not playing anymore," he said. "I know I'll never go pro, but I would miss it."

"What do you like about it?"

"It's fun to hit people. And I like catching touchdown passes so everyone cheers my name."

I waited, now that I knew him well enough to realize his first answer was rarely the real one.

He met my expectant gaze. "Oh, S'more," he sighed. "You're going to be difficult, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You don't let me get away with stuff," he said. "I like the sense of being part of a team. Guys who have my back. Starting high school, I didn't know who I was going to be. I knew I wouldn't be like my sisters, and football gave me something that made me confident, gave me community. I love seeing it be that for others, too. When Roddy lost his grandma and a bunch of us spent a weekend playing Madden with him, or when Matt's mom had cancer and we pitched in to help the family. Plus, Coach really cares, you know?"

It was the most passionate I'd seen him. His words had latched onto my heart like a tractor beam and were slowly but surely tugging it toward him.

I regretted every time I'd thought he was shallow or fake or incapable of taking anything seriously.

Our feet pounded rhythmically. Like in Vancouver, it felt weird to run with someone. Tanner's pace fit mine, despite his longer legs.

"You never answered my question," he said after we lapped our parents, and he waved exaggeratedly and I pretended not to see them. "Why running?"

"I like the rhythm. I get in the zone, and my mind relaxes. It's peaceful."

"What's the longest you've done?"

"I often run three or four miles at a time. I've been thinking about doing a 10K. The distance wouldn't be a problem, but I'd want to train for a good time."

"We should do it together."

I stumbled. "Train?"

His hand grasped my elbow until I regained my rhythm. "That, and the race. We could make a training schedule. Push each other, like we always do. It would be fun to have someone to do it with. One of those costume races would be awesome. Or a regular one," he added quickly.

"Oh. Um. Maybe?"

"Afraid I'd beat you?"

"Afraid I'd embarrass you."

"Lucky for you I don't get embarrassed."

"I'm sure I could find a way."

"So. The race?"

It was weird to consider that pushing each other could lead to positive results. Though, I guess it had helped me study harder for my liberal arts classes, and led me to more hours at the Science Center.

He seemed to mean it, but that would require spending more time with him after the cruise, apart from our families. Did he want that? Did I?

"Maybe," I said again.

We reached our final lap, and Tanner sped up. I did too. I wasn't letting him beat me.

His longer legs gave him an advantage, but I was the official runner here. And I wasn't afraid to stoop to his level.

"Hey look, whales," I said, pointing over the edge of the ship.

When he turned his head, it slowed him long enough to let me surge across the line first.

He laughed as he joined me. "Well played, S'more."

"Still want to keep running with me?"

"Of course. I have to beat you next time."

"Good luck with that."

Other people had heard me and were rushing to the railing beyond the track, darting in front of runners. Walkers doing the mile veered off course to look as well.

"I heard whales," someone said.

"I don't see anything."

"Was that a spout?"

"That was a wave."

"No, I think it's a bird."

Laughing, Tanner and I grabbed cups of water from a table.

"You broke their hearts," he said.

"And yours."

"And you aren't even sorry."

"I'm sorry I got their hopes up to see whales."

He shoved me and I laughed, unsticking hair from my neck.

Our parents were waiting to tell us great job. Mr. Ramirez gave us fist bumps and moved on to chat with other employees.

"Mr. Ramirez is happy," I said. "My day is complete."

Mom shook her head at me, smiling.

"Oh, the day is just getting started." Tanner wagged his eyebrows at me.

"What do you mean?"

"Go shower, then meet me in the main lobby in an hour. Wear tennis shoes."

I narrowed my eyes. "Should I be prepared for revenge? Another race since you lost this one?"

"You'll see." He wore a slight smile. I couldn't read his expression.

I looked at our parents, who shrugged. Weird.

When I reached our room, I checked the schedule, but I didn't see likely candidates for another activity. Flower arranging class, VIP shopping tour. Nothing Tanner would consider fun.

I showered and washed my hair. Tanner was right—it was getting long. The color was somewhere between dark blond and light brown. Boring. Unlike Jordan, changing her style every week, I'd never had the courage to try anything different. I rolled the ends under, played with it, studying it in the mirror.

And made a spur-of-the-moment call to schedule an appointment for later.

A dozen people were waiting when I arrived in the central lobby.

I sat beside Tanner. "What's going on?"

He smirked. "You'll see."

An older man with a Northern European accent met us and introduced himself as the ship's chief engineer. "Today I am happy to be taking you on a tour of the ship's engine room."

No way. I whirled toward Tanner, who grinned.

"Are you serious?" I asked him.

He nodded. "I signed us up as soon as I saw it. I thought you might like it."

Something bright and twinkly unfurled in my chest. I didn't know what to say.

The engineer gave an overview of the ship's size and cruising speed and draught. Then we followed him to the lowest level. Tanner's hand pressed against my back to steer me down the hall as I practically bounced along.

We went through a hatch and down metal stairs to a level not open to the public. It resembled a NASA control room, with a bank of computers, a whole wall with diagrams and lights showing engine statuses, one wall of screens displaying multiple camera views of engine areas. And, okay, if Mr. Lin's program got me access to more places like this, it might be worth the unknown, the comforts I'd have to give up.

The engineer talked about how a relatively small crew monitored and maintained the systems. Sadly, none of them wore red Scotty shirts. Then we got earplugs and went through another hatch, to the actual engine room, where the roar of machinery was audible even through the earplugs.

The engines were enormous, everything taking up several decks. Parts spun and whirred. Pipes, ducts, wheels, gauges, and unidentifiable machines filled every square foot. We saw pumps that used seawater to keep the engines cool, and the propeller shaft, and the engineer talked about the Azipods. If I'd had scuba gear, I would have taken another polar plunge to see them in action. Was there a bridge tour, also? Because I'd love to see the controls to those.

I had to stop myself from pointing at every single machine and asking what it was. I hung on every word. Tanner stayed at my side, hands in his pockets, a faint smile on his face.

Warmth flooded me. This was incredibly thoughtful. Why was he going out of his way to do something so nice?

The tour lasted an hour, and when it ended, Tanner and I made our way to the coffee shop. We ordered drinks and sat by a window that revealed nothing but gray skies and pewter water.

"What did you think?" Tanner's voice and face were oddly vulnerable, like he cared that I had enjoyed it and was worried I hadn't.

I cupped my warm mug of hot chocolate. "It was incredible. Thank you. Really."

One of the most wonderful gestures someone had ever done for me had come from Tanner Woods.

"The group was small. How did you get us a spot?"

His eyes darted away. "I know people. And I'm very persuasive."

I studied him. "I have no doubt both of those statements are true. But honestly?"

"You can sign up at the excursion desk."

I waited.

"Oh, fine." His shoulders slumped. "It books fast, and I signed us up the first day to ensure a spot."

The first day. After we'd agreed to spend time together, but before we had started, what? Getting along? Having fun together? Becoming, dare I say it, friends?

Definitely before we'd cleared the air about the past.

He'd noticed enough about me to do something incredibly personalized.

He was avoiding my gaze, and now I was doing the same as a storm whirled in my chest. The air between us felt charged and electric.

I cleared my throat, my voice rough. "I really enjoyed it. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He finally looked at me.

The light from the window softened his edges, made his eyes mysterious gray shadows. His cheek twitched like he wanted to fully smile but wasn't sure how to finish the expression.

It drew my focus to his lips, always curved up at the corners like he knew a secret. My heart thudded.

I dragged my eyes back to his to find them aimed at my mouth.

Heat flooded me. What was happening? Was I wondering what it would be like to kiss him? Surely he wasn't thinking the same thing.

Half of me wanted that, half wanted to run, and half wanted to melt into a puddle under the heat of his gaze. And yes, that was too many halves, but Tanner had reduced me to violating the laws of mathematics.

I took a sip, leaned back, made myself look away.

"So did it inspire you?" he asked. "To do the program for Mr.Lin?"

"It might have given me a nudge in that direction. The list he sent did include amazing facilities that I'd get to see in person. Why are you smirking?"

"I'm not smirking. I'm smiling. Because I like how you get intense when you're interested in something. You go all in, really try to understand it."

"Oh."

"Why—" He stopped.

"Why what?"

"Why haven't you already agreed to the program? It seems like you'd love it."

I set the cup down, spun it in slow circles. "I probably would love it, once I started. But the thought of traveling, of visiting new places, of messing up the schedule I had planned for senior year…"

"I know my opinion isn't worth anything, but I think you should do it. Stop thinking small for yourself. Go all in, in life, in what you love. Dream big and see what's out there."

The idea sounded huge and terrifying, like the Alaskan wilderness. Almost too much unknown to contemplate. Yet, something sparkly stirred deep inside me.

"I'll think about it. Any other ideas for the day, Fun Coach?" Now my voice sounded too high.

He didn't answer immediately, giving me time to return to the serious topic if I wanted, but when I didn't, he asked, "Trivia competition after lunch?"

"If it's aimed at the average age of the ship's guests, most of the questions are from before we were born."

His eyes twinkled. "Then we'll compete with each other to see who can make up the wildest answers possible."

"That worked so well at the art auction." I leveled a finger at him. "I'm not getting kicked out of anything else."

"Oh come on, that was fun. The art was ridiculous." He stood and offered a hand.

I took it to let him pull me up, but he kept it all the way to the elevator, his grip warm and solid. And I let him.