Chapter Three

Los Angeles, California

By Monday morning, the first official day of summer vacation, I hadn't heard from Caleb. My plan of him seeking me out and wanting me back wasn't off to a great start. It had been a weak plan. Definitely needed work.

I'd only spent five minutes…Okay, ten…Okay, half an hour, looking at Instagram reels and pictures from Manda's party. His face wore a bigger smile than any I'd seen in the last couple months. Did he like volleyball and boogie boards? Were those things he'd supposedly asked about and I had said no to? Or was he doing this to prove a point?

My insides were hollow. If he'd given me a chance, maybe I would've been there, too, and we would have been laughing together.

I shoved my phone into the thigh pocket of my leggings and took a final glance at my room, with its space posters and the row of LEGO spaceships on the bookshelf and the picture of Jordan and me in Star Wars costumes on Halloween at age eight, the day we met. It was dumb, but I'd miss the room the next two weeks, having space to myself. Even though I loved my parents, sharing a tiny cruise ship cabin with two other people was not ideal.

When I lugged my suitcase down the stairs, my mom was double-checking her bag by the door while my dad looked at his fitness watch.

"It's not too late to let me stay home," I said.

Mom shook her head. "Savannah. This is a family vacation."

"No, it's a company cruise that families are invited on. Won't you be busy with work? And wouldn't you have more fun if you didn't have to worry about me?"

Mom raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Are you saying I should worry about you? Planning to cause trouble?"

"Loads and loads of it."

She laughed. Which was fair, because the only time I'd ever gotten detention or been in any trouble whatsoever was in eighth grade when Tanner had tossed his potato light bulb at me and told me to lighten up, and for some reason I'd ducked and it had hit our science teacher in the face. Not my proudest moment, and I still didn't see why I'd gotten in trouble when he'd been the one throwing vegetables.

I shouldn't have been so hesitant about the trip. An Alaskan cruise was an amazing opportunity, and I was grateful we had the chance to go. Upper management from my parents' company, plus their families, were invited, with the basic cruise fare paid for.

Travel was just so much work. Packing and flying and being away from home.

I'd probably enjoy it. And once we got home, I knew I'd be glad I'd gone. But I would miss my bed and my telescope and my fuzzy blanket. Plus, Alaska was so full of nature. Ever since that camping incident that Jordan called a formative moment, I'd felt safer knowing nature had limits.

"What if there isn't anyone my age?" I asked. "What if I get seasick?"

"We have medicine for that. And you know Tanner will be there."

He didn't count as my age since most of the time, he acted like a six-year-old. Evidence: yesterday's garbage incident.

"Now you're really making me want to stay home."

She laughed again. Our parents didn't grasp the full depth of Tanner's and my dislike. Despite our complaints, frequent arguments, and attempts to avoid each other, our parents made us participate in family dinners, joint vacations, holidays.

"It will be good for you," Mom said. "Try to get along with him this trip, okay? I know asking you two to be best friends is pointless, but I need you to behave."

I wasn't the one who misbehaved. "I'll be nice if he is."

She gave me a patented parent look that I was pretty sure a person was only capable of mastering after they had teenagers. "Mr. Ramirez will be there, and you know how important this is to me."

I sighed. "I know."

Mrs. Woods, who was my mom's best friend in college, had helped Mom get a job at the marketing company when we relocated to LA after we were free of my bio dad. This cruise was to reward staff but also to court new clients, and someone—most likely my mom or her best friend—was coming out of it with a promotion.

She and Mrs. Woods competed much more cordially than Tanner and I did.

My mom zipped her bag shut and straightened. "Besides, it might be good for you to spend time with Tanner. Have some fun."

Now she sounded like Caleb.

"I'm capable of having fun. I just have more fun without Tanner."

Dad winked at me as he opened the front door. Though we weren't biologically related, and he'd only entered my life ten years ago, I was more like him than my mom. Mom was a nice, more mature Tanner—in the good ways, not the ways that made me want to run away screaming. Outgoing, creative, a people person, but without the constant showing off. She often encouraged me to branch out, to go places, to be more social. Every time she tried to convince me, I wanted to join even less.

Outside, the Uber was waiting—and so was Jordan. Today, she'd replicated River Song's crown of curls, minus the blond, and it looked gorgeous.

"I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye." She wrapped me in a comforting, vanilla-scented hug. "How are you?" she asked quietly.

"Fine," I said automatically.

She waited.

"Okay, not fine. But fine. You know?"

She rolled her eyes.

She did not need to know I'd been cyber-stalking Caleb for two days.

"Have fun," she said.

"You mean that thing I don't know how to do?"

"Stop letting Caleb live in your head. Go see all the cool things. And don't kill Tanner. Or maybe you'll find you don't want to kill him." She wagged her eyebrows.

"If you make another tight end joke, I'm not bringing you any presents."

She laughed.

"Good luck with your job. I'll miss you."

"Of course you will."

I'd asked if she could come with us. It was an only child problem. Usually I enjoyed not having siblings, because no one stole my things or broke into my room or ate the last cup of yogurt. Vacations were the one time I wished for company. My mom was usually a more-the-merrier type of person, which meant Jordan often tagged along. But Mom had thought it was unprofessional to bring a friend on this trip, because it would have meant needing two rooms instead of one, and the company was paying.

Jordan waved from our driveway as we loaded into the car. I cast a final, longing look at our house and my best friend and palm trees and civilization.

Tanner and his parents were waiting at the check-in area. His older sisters weren't coming home from college for the trip. One more year, and we would be in college, too. I planned to stay here, but hopefully he'd go far away. I should subscribe him to mailers from East Coast schools.

Mrs. Woods hugged me. Other than Jordan and my family, she was the only one I let get away with it. It was hard to believe someone so nice and who made the world's best lasagna had spawned Tanner.

"I bet you're glad the school year is over, aren't you?" she asked.

Wait, why? Had she heard about the breakup? Had Tanner regaled them with the story and his clever new name for me over burgers last night? I narrowed my eyes at him, but he didn't acknowledge me. I was probably reading too much into this.

"I am definitely glad it's over," I said.

Meaning, the last day of school, if nothing else. I preferred the routine of classes and practice and clubs to the wide-open days of summer. I'd planned to partially fix that—coaching Mia Lin and volunteering and dog walks and preparing for next year's Math Bowl—except now it would be without Caleb, and the gaping black hole of not having a plan was tugging me toward panic.

"I heard there was a big party on Friday?" my mom asked Tanner.

How did she know these things?

"Yep, Savannah missed out."

"I tried to convince her to go," Mom said.

"I had fun with Jordan." And River Song.

"You always see Jordan." Mom faced Tanner. "What did youdo?"

As he showed off his superior social skills, I turned to Mrs. Woods. "I found a new app you'll like."

"Ooh, another one? I love that workout tracker you told me about."

"This one lets you type your to-do list for the week, and then you give it ten-minute slots of time when you're free. It randomly assigns you tasks to get done in those times, and when you do them, it gives you a word game to play."

"Oh, great. I'm always looking for ways to be more productive. And I love word games."

Tanner coughed something that sounded suspiciously like nerd before continuing to tell my mom about the nighttime bodysurfing contest, which sounded like an emergency room visit waiting to happen, as we made our way through the winding security line. My cough in return sounded a lot like suck-up.

When it was his turn to present his passport, he was describing his winning run and waving his hands.

I cleared my throat.

He didn't move.

"Were you planning to hold up the line forever?" I asked.

"Yes, because I know it bothers you." He moved forward and continued chatting with Mom as we took off our shoes and slung our carry-ons onto the belt.

Tanner was right in front of me heading for the scanner but stopped so suddenly I bumped into him. He removed his fitness watch and hurried to toss it into the tray on the belt before it went through, then got back into line. Where he set off the alarm.

"Whoops, sorry." He emptied his pockets of keys and phone.

"Have you never flown before?" I asked. "Emptying your pockets is the first rule."

My mom laughed, and his mom sighed his name.

I went through quietly with no problems, retrieved my items efficiently, and was standing waiting for the others, bag repacked and shoes on, while Tanner was still getting an overly friendly pat-down from a burly TSA agent.

In the waiting area at our gate, my mom took a seat next to Mrs. Woods. They immediately started reliving the recent conference they'd gone to in Phoenix. My dad sat across from Mr. Woods, and they were discussing a report about the future of self-driving cars, and I wished I could hear more because I'd read that, too. Mr. Woods worked in a chemistry lab and was always up for talking about the latest scientific discoveries.

Tanner sprawled at the end of the row, his long legs extended into the aisle. He wore giant headphones and was tapping his foot along with whatever music played, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair.

I sat as far away as possible, put in my earbuds, and loaded a podcast where two funny guys debated the most realistic fictional spaceships until it was time to board the flight to Vancouver.

As we passed the exit row, I eyed the people sitting there, trying to figure out if I could trust them with my survival in the event of a crisis situation.

I waited for my mom to slide into the middle seat, where I was supposed to have the aisle. But she and Mrs. Woods compared boarding passes and shuffled us around.

"I don't think that's allowed," I said. "Aren't you supposed to sit in your assigned seat?"

"Are you going to report us to the airplane authorities?" Tanner glanced around with a fake worried expression. "Should I be scared?"

"It will be fine," Mom said. "We're not taking strangers' seats. They're assigned to us."

I swallowed a growl. I didn't want to argue and give Tanner additional reasons to mock me, so instead of my nice aisle seat, I ended up crammed into the middle with Tanner next to me on the aisle because he was tall and needed space.

I was tall, too, thank you. Five eight and a half was well above average for a girl, and I had long runner's legs. But I wasn't star-tight-end tall, with broad shoulders that took up more than his fair share of room. I shifted to avoid touching Tanner. Jordan was right. He did have impressive muscles.

No. I was not noticing that. Why couldn't he wear a hoodie over that T-shirt to hide those things? Music leaked from his fancy headphones, and his bare elbow kept brushing mine.

I read the stuff in the seatback pocket, from the airplane chart to the travel magazine.

Tanner shifted again, further crushing me between him and the turbaned Sikh man in the window seat. I nudged Tanner's elbow hard enough to knock it off our shared armrest. He raised his eyebrows at me and inched the headphones off his ears.

"You get the aisle one." I pointed. "This one's mine."

"Is that another airplane rule? Planning to submit a complaint?"

"It's a common courtesy rule. I don't know why I expected you to know any of those."

"Are you sure? You don't want to tell on me like you did with the fireworks? Or the Christmas when I opened the presents early. Or the picnic where I accidentally knocked over the drink table. Wow, there really are a lot of examples of times you got me in trouble."

I refused to feel guilty for any of those. He could have burned the house down with those fireworks. "Maybe you should reconsider the life choices that lead you to situations where you could get in trouble in the first place."

He nudged the armrest. "I'll arm wrestle you for it."

"Seriously? What are you, twelve?"

He shrugged. "It seems like something that should be earned. Wouldn't it be more satisfying to win it?"

"And that's why you suggested arm wrestling? Because I stand a chance of winning?" I tried and failed not to look at the muscles straining the sleeves of his T-shirt.

"Not with that attitude, you don't."

To my surprise, he tucked his arm in awkwardly, shifting so his feet extended farther into the aisle. Was it too much to hope that a flight attendant would roll over them with the drink cart?

"How do you think you did on finals?" he asked.

The annoying thing was, for all that Tanner acted like a dumb jock, he competed with me for near-top grades. Despite having no ability whatsoever to pay attention in class, to take actual notes, or to do homework more than a day—or a class period—before it was due.

"Great," I said. "What about you?"

"Also great. Better than great."

"I guess we'll see."

Final grades would be uploaded to the online portal later this week, and I was glad they would arrive on a port day since we wouldn't have internet when the ship was at sea.

He shifted. "Sorry about, you know."

His voice was serious now, and a rare solemn expression flickered across his face.

Did he mean Friday? My public humiliation? The new nickname? My neck grew hot, and I couldn't decide if I wanted to snap at him or pretend I had no idea what he was talking about.

"You're better off, anyway," he went on. "Caleb is boring."

"Doesn't that mean we're perfect for each other?"

He shifted again. "You're not boring."

"That's not what you said on Friday."

"What?"

I snorted. "Like you don't know."

He frowned and opened his mouth. Then his face morphed—he crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue.

Seriously?

Oh. A baby in front of us was staring at him over the top of the seat.

Fine. It was better if Tanner and I ignored each other. I smiled at the baby, who barely noticed me, sucked in by Tanner's goofy faces. A tiny hand came through the seats, and he let the kid grab his finger.

It was not cute. At all. Nope. And I definitely wasn't watching.

The seat in front of me reclined violently, trapping me in a tight prison.

"Will you stop?" came a woman's voice from directly behind me, sharp and loud. I jumped.

I couldn't make out a guy's mumbled reply.

"This was supposed to be a fun vacation," the woman went on, and like, come on, lady, the whole plane doesn't need to hear your business. "You didn't want to see the beach, the Dodgers game was too crowded, the Walk of Fame was dumb. Why did you even want to come?"

"But…I had a great time, babe. Because I was with you."

Hearing a couple fighting was near the top of my things I don't want to do list. I tried to reach down, hoping to find earbuds, but I couldn't get to my backpack on the floor with the seat in front of me reclined so far.

"You know what? I can't." Her voice rang out. "They say traveling together is a good test, and we failed. It's over."

Heat spread up my neck as my stomach sank. Every second of last Friday washed over me. The eyes on me. The whispers. The need to escape. This guy had fewer options than I'd had, unless he could get a flight attendant to bring him a parachute.

Silence surrounded us, heavy with awkwardness. The hush of people who very much wanted not to have witnessed such a private moment.

"But," the guy said, "I love you. I don't understand."

I hoped I hadn't sounded so desperate in the parking lot. My heart twisted for him.

"That's the problem. You don't." Her voice lacked sympathy. "This week, we were on totally different pages."

Of course they were seated two feet from me and not thirty rows away. Because that was my life lately.

"But—"

An elbow bumped mine, and the man's reply was smothered as Tanner settled his noise-canceling headphones over my ears. They were playing a loud rock song, but he tapped his phone and handed it over, loaded to his Spotify account, which included a wider variety than I would have expected.

The music completely drowned out the couple.

My heart stuttered. I tried to peer at him without moving my head.

But Tanner returned to playing with the baby in front of him and didn't acknowledge me once.