Chapter Seven

Port of Embarkation: Vancouver, British Columbia

Music was playing on the pool deck when the six of us left our rooms to join the fun. I used the term fun loosely. The bass vibrated my bones before we even left the interior hall and went outside. Waiters circulated with drinks and appetizers. Dancers in matching polo shirts were leading enthusiastic guests in a dance as a band played.

The horn bellowed, and the ship inched away from the dock. Everyone cheered.

I pushed through the dense crowd so I could watch over the railing. It was impressive how they moved an enormous vessel with such precision. Too bad I couldn't go underwater and see the Azipods. I'd read about the cool underwater thrusters, pods with propellers that could rotate and made it possible to steer the giant ship so accurately. Way more interesting than dancing with strangers.

People on the dock waved at us, and many fellow cruisers waved back.

And okay, I was glad I was there.

The cruise director, a guy with a Scottish accent, was urging everyone to clap along. My parents were enthusiastically joining in. Well, Mom looked enthusiastic. Dad looked reluctant, but he was doing it, if not completely on beat. Apparently they had no problem letting loose in front of coworkers. I would have had to immediately resign, move, and change my name.

Tanner approached, his hands overflowing with appetizers. "Want to try anything?"

When I declined, he ate them all himself.

A conga line was aiming for us, and it suddenly seemed like an excellent time for the TARDIS to appear and carry me away. To the end of the universe, Pompeii five minutes pre-eruption. Anywhere that got me away from conga dancers.

Tanner raised his eyebrows.

"Right behind you," I said.

When he slipped into the line, I melted away.

You'd think he would stop falling for that.

The ship aimed for the suspension bridge we'd driven across the day before. I caught my dad's eye and pointed up, then moved to the highest deck. The music reached from below, and lots of people stood here as well, but it was calmer, and many, like me, were watching the scenery as the city skyline became small blocks behind us.

We sailed toward the point of land where one end of the bridge was anchored. It didn't look like the massive ship would fit underneath. People were staring up at it, taking pictures, so I snapped a few. We went under with plenty of room to spare, but the beam of the bridge so close overhead was cool.

"This is not what I had in mind." Tanner's voice came from behind me.

I didn't bother turning. "No one said you had to keep me company every second."

"Your mom did. She asked where you were and suggested I find you."

"I told my dad I was leaving the party." I was still watching the bridge, only partly paying attention to the conversation.

"What are you doing up here? Oh. You wanted to see the bridge."

How did he know me so well?

We had passed under it, and it was fading behind us, with the city skyline on the horizon. Nothing but ocean waited ahead.

A small tremor shuddered through me at the idea of leaving civilization behind. Vancouver was the largest city we'd see before we flew home to LA in two weeks, and I wasn't ready to contemplate the massive emptiness of what was to come.

I faced Tanner, in need of a distraction so I didn't consider stealing a lifeboat and sailing back to shore. "You gave me homework, so now it's your turn."

He blinked at me.

"Picking a major? The thing you asked me for help with literally yesterday?"

"Oh. Right. I didn't mean it had to be immediate."

"When do you want it to be? After two years of college as an undecided? Which is perfectly acceptable."

"Tell that to my parents," he muttered. Before I had time to process the rare glimpse of anything less than carefree from him, he blinked and shook his head, twinkling eyes in place once more. "Summer homework. Hit me." He spread his arms as if awaiting a physical tackle.

"It's easy, don't worry. I want you to think about which classes you enjoy the most."

"Football?"

I shot him a look. "And what your hobbies are."

"Football?"

I ignored him. "And what interests you."

"Watching f—"

"If you say football one more time, I'm shoving you overboard. Think about it. And maybe stretch first so you don't hurt yourself. I know thinking isn't something you do often."

"It's really not. But for you I'll make the effort."

Why did he need this, anyway? He got disgustingly good grades. Somehow. He had plenty of options. But we weren't friends enough for me to ask. He was helping me, so I'd help him. This arrangement didn't need to get more personal than that.

We ate dinner in the casual dining room, another buffet that offered more dishes than I could count. Tanner once again overloaded his plate with a random assortment of everything. It wasn't Tuesday, but I was happy to find tacos, even if they weren't as good as the ones from the truck at home.

I'd found a paper schedule in our room with the next day's activities. The list of shore excursions had slightly terrified me, so I'd been looking for activities I could do on the ship that would be new and different. Maybe if I spent a day easing into the challenge, excursions would be less scary. I read the schedule while I ate.

Tanner grabbed it, because asking was apparently too difficult. "What are you thinking about?"

"Pottery painting? Bingo?"

"If we're just intentionally suggesting ridiculous ideas, how about this informational talk? How to Look Ten Years Younger." He flicked my cheek. "You could use that."

"If it was How to Act Ten Years Younger, you could teach it."

"Thanks. Ooh. How to Improve Your Posture." He studied me. "You are rather hunched."

"It's because I'm trying not to be seen with you."

"How to Relieve Back Pain," he said. "I don't need to go to that talk. I know how to do that. I just have to avoid you. Because you're the biggest pain in my back. Side. Get it?"

"No, I need you to explain it to me. What happened to a truce? No fighting?"

"We're not fighting. We're discussing options."

"Insulting me counts as fighting."

"I deserved a free one after you threatened to push me overboard. Now we're even."

Our parents joined us, and we fell silent.

"Did I see you checking out the suspension bridge?" Mr. Woods asked me.

My heart surged. "Yes! It reminded me of the Golden Gate Bridge, though it's not as long or tall. Suspension bridges are so elegant."

Mrs. Woods smiled. "I love your passion. I wish Tanner would find something like that."

"Oh, but he has football," my mom said. "He's so fun to watch on the field. And all that community service."

I did community service. We were in the same club, and I had beaten him for the club's award. But I helped organize exhibits at the Science Center while Tanner had a Little Bro in a mentoring program, which my mom found sweet. Jordan did the same program, and Mom wished I had joined her.

"Savannah does Math Bowl," Mr. Woods said. "That's impressive. Maybe she can help Tanner with calculus next year. He struggles in math."

I snuck a glance at Tanner, who was stuffing his face. His eyes were blank. Usually I would take this opportunity to talk about my hopes for next year's Math Bowl. Then Tanner would bring up football or discuss the latest social event with my mom. Whether because it now seemed like the over-the-top sucking up that our moms were doing with Mr. Ramirez, or for some mysterious unknown reason, I remained silent.

"How are the girls?" my mom asked.

Mrs. Woods's face brightened. "Charlotte placed second in her last mock trial competition. She's ready for her final year of law school and has her eye on a trial law firm in San Francisco. And Livvy switched her major from marketing to sales and got an internship at a tech company this summer. They're both so driven and determined."

"That's wonderful."

"I can't believe neither of them has been to a football game," Tanner said. "Michigan and U-Dub, and they haven't been once."

"There's more to life than sports, Tanner," his dad said.

"Sure, but everything else is boring."

I tried not to roll my eyes. I had actually wanted to know how his sisters were doing. They'd always been nice to me. Too bad one of them couldn't have been my age. Then our parents being friends might have made us friends, too, and I wouldn't have minded being forced together.

After dessert—a chocolate chip cookie for me while Tanner devoured a cupcake, a dish of chocolate mousse, and three cookies—my mom said, "We thought we'd go to the show tonight."

The big theater we'd seen earlier was now illuminated with flashing spotlights, and Top 40 music was playing. We sat near the back of the lowest level.

The Scottish cruise director, who had changed into a suit since the sail-away party, gave a welcome-aboard message and introduced the entertainers—dancers, singers, a band. Tonight's performance was show tunes from famous musicals.

It was…fine. The sets and lighting were professional. The dancers were in sync and had an impressive number of costume changes between songs. I couldn't get out of a sports bra that quickly, and they were donning entirely new outfits. The singers were good—though selfishly I thought Jordan was better. But it wasn't my thing. I'd never understood musicals, despite Jordan's best efforts.

Next to me, Tanner was shifting in his seat.

His elbow nudged mine. After it happened two more times, I looked at him. He was watching me like he'd been waiting. He angled his head toward the back of the theater.

"Let's go," he mouthed, and jerked his head twice, insistent.

Why was he involving me in his delinquency? It couldn't be because he enjoyed my company. Probably because he had to have an audience for everything and was incapable of being alone, and I was the only option.

I eyed my parents and the stage.

Why was I considering this?

Because boring people stayed in theaters when they didn't want to, trapped by the belief that it was the polite thing to do. Caleb would never believe me capable of ditching my family and sneaking out.

I met Tanner's gaze and nodded.

His eyes lit up and he stood, crouching, and edged between knees and seats to exit the row. I tapped my dad's arm and pointed, not waiting for permission, then followed Tanner, hunching and trying to hurry.

People mumbled as we bumped their legs.

"Sorry, sorry," I whispered.

Tanner almost took out a waiter carrying a tray of drinks, spinning around the guy like he would have on the football field. The server didn't say anything—they were probably trained to be polite—but I wouldn't have blamed him for a few choice swear words.

What had I been thinking?

Once we left the dark theater and stood in the brightly lit hall outside, Tanner laughed.

"You did it," he said.

I narrowed my eyes. "Was that some kind of trick? Or a test or something?"

"I was bored. You looked like you were, too. Don't keep doing something you aren't enjoying if there's a way out. There are so many things to do on this ship. A cruise is too short to do anything you don't want to."

"You mean like talk to you?" I asked, but couldn't stop a smile.

"Exactly." He grinned. "Let's find something else."

"Not a fan of musicals?" I asked.

"I don't mind them if there's a whole story, but I don't need to see the songs randomly. Let me guess, you don't like them? Too much spontaneous joy for you?"

I knew he was teasing, but I said vehemently, "It makes no sense. Why are people constantly breaking into song and dance? With perfect choreography and harmonies? And no one around them ever finds it strange? I mean, sure, Jordan sings all the time. But lines here and there, and no one has ever busted into a dance to back her up."

Tanner let out the laugh again, the one that implied he truly found me funny, and my lips curved in response.

We wandered the deck then climbed a level. In the atrium, live piano music floated in the air, and we passed it, heading into a darker area.

It was weird to stroll around with Tanner, not arguing, not even talking. We had a relationship routine—him pestering me to do dumb things, me trying to ignore him, sucking up to each other's parents, comparing our latest accomplishments. But we'd done very little of that today. This trip was disrupting the routine, and it left me flailing, unsure how to act around him outside the security of our familiar interactions.

Also, I couldn't stop eying him. Solely because the polo shirt accentuated his biceps. It would happen with anyone. It didn't mean I found him at all attractive.

Tanner stopped at a set of closed doors, bronze and heavy. Jazz music leaked out, the rise and fall of a trumpet seeping through.

He raised his eyebrows. I shrugged.

He opened a door, motioning me inside. "Ladies first."

"I've always hated that policy. What if the lady doesn't want to go first?"

What if she wanted the guy to enter ahead of her to make sure a bear wasn't waiting? What if she wanted more time to mentally prepare herself or a chance to peek around him to see what was inside, instead of being the first one thrust into a new situation?

His lips quirked. "Fair enough."

He stepped through the doors, leaving a hand on one to hold it for me to follow. I did, entering a dark room. Smoke and lights made a stage glow blue, while shadows blurred the rest of the room. Rounded booths with high backs formed intimate nooks perfect for romantic trysts or Mafia deals. It felt like we'd stepped back in time to a secret Prohibition-era club.

We slipped into an empty booth.

"I feel like a mobster," Tanner whispered.

It was seriously disturbing how often his thoughts echoed mine.

A full band played—trumpet, sax, trombone, piano, drums—and a Black woman in a shimmery dress was singing with a smooth voice. I wished Jordan were here.

The blue glow of the stage was the brightest part of the room. Our booth had one small light that left Tanner's face mostly in shadows.

When a server approached to take our orders, Tanner said, "May I?"

I was so surprised that I nodded without realizing what he meant until he was ordering for both of us.

"We'll have virgin versions of whatever your most popular cocktail is."

After the server left, I stared at him.

"What? I asked if it was okay. If you don't like the drink, I'll have both and you can order a Coke."

"It's fine." The drink hadn't worried me. It was more the whole situation.

He leaned back. "This is cool. I bet Caleb is drinking Mountain Dew and watching the Dodgers. Isn't this more sophisticated?"

"I like the Dodgers."

But I knew what he meant. Which was weird. Mysterious, grown-up, and sophisticated were not words I'd ever expected to feel while hanging out with Tanner Woods. He was tapping the table with his fingers and bobbing his head in time with the beat. It reminded me of sixth grade, when he'd tried to learn the drums and carried drumsticks around to beat on everything—the dinner table, the car dashboard, my head. This wasn't the usual type of music I heard from him, but he seemed to be enjoying it.

When the server brought our drinks, Tanner took out his phone. "Raise your glass."

I lifted the tall, clear glass filled with ice and pale pink liquid.

We held them up like we were toasting, with the stage in the background, and he snapped a photo.

I sniffed the liquid, curious. Sipped. I didn't know what it was, but it was fizzy and sort of sweet and acceptable. I took another swallow and settled in with my fancy drink to listen to the fancy music. Which was way better than show tunes. Chill and mellow and yet oddly thrilling.

More words I'd never thought I'd associate with Tanner Woods. Life was weird.

But maybe I could handle this trying new things goal after all.