Chapter Twelve

Cruise

We went on a cruise for the summer before my senior year. It was a big enough trip that Gavin, Hattie and Jake were coming along, even though they had already graduated from college. Our parents told us six months earlier, at our annual Moynes-Harrison Christmas Eve dinner, how they were going to book the rooms in a few days.

My mom said, "They have rooms that connect, like hotel rooms, so we thought it might be fun for you kids to stay together. That way you can come and go without bothering us."

Gavin poured a little more whiskey into his eggnog. He whistled. "Do you think that's a good idea, Fiona?" He stood behind the couch, behind me, and pointed a finger at Tucker.

"Hey!" I argued.

His brothers all laughed.

Even my dad laughed.

My mom sighed. "We did talk about that."

Lori said, "That's why we're having the conversation between the whole group. So everyone can keep an eye on everyone ."

"I'll get Ella some pepper spray," Jake laughed.

Gavin said, "We'll keep a baby monitor around his neck."

"Hold on," Tucker interjected. He scooted to the edge of our couch. "We are not doing anything. Why does everyone think I want to do stuff to her?"

" To her?" Gavin threw his head back. "We thought we thought you wanted to do stuff with her, now I'm actually afraid for her safety!"

I covered my ears and repeated, "Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod."

This was the last conversation I wanted to have with my family at Christmas. That's when I noticed Tucker breathing beside me. Of course they would think we were a secret couple, he was always sitting next to me, always finding ways to touch me.

I was wearing a short, plaid, long-sleeved dress and the fabric of his pants pressed into my bare knees. I chopped the space between us, pushing him away, insisting, "Move! Get away from me!"

He jumped up. "What?" He stepped to the outside of our circle, nearly bumping into the Christmas tree and eyed me sternly, "Ella, stop it ."

Christian leaned back in his chair with a cup of decaf coffee resting on his stomach. "Okay, okay, no one thinks anything's going on between you two."

"Speak for yourself," Jake grumbled.

I noticed our mothers exchange a look.

"We just want to nip it in the bud before it does," Christian finished.

I sunk into myself, absently tugging on the bottom of my dress, wishing I could also be half-drunk on eggnog and unaware of this conversation. Hattie was asleep by the fireplace. My dad was busy pouring himself another drink.

"It's not inevitable ," I argued.

"I have a girlfriend," Tucker added.

Gracie chimed in, "Then go sit beside Ella if it's no big deal."

His eyes narrowed. "These two." He gestured between her and Steven. "These two are actually dating! Why aren't you worried about them?"

Steven snorted. "Because I can keep it in my pants."

I pressed my face in my hands. "Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod."

Somewhere in the room, Lori exhaled. "I think we're all a little too comfortable with each other…"

Tucker's crisp button-down shirt ruffled. I looked back up to find him looking at me, frowning. He was the most popular boy in school for this exact reason: his bronze skin, his alert green eyes, the large hands resting on his hips. He had gelled his hair back, his face was clean. He had a small mysterious bruise under his left eye. I vaguely remembered elbowing him in the school parking lot when he pretended to kiss me in front of our friends.

He huffed, "You guys just don't understand our relationship."

"That's the point," Gavin answered. "No one understands."

"She's my best friend's friend." Tucker pursed his lips.

I straightened up, staring at him. "Yeah, he's my friend's friend. We're friends of friends."

"You guys don't get it."

"You'll never get it."

"Come on, Ella." Tucker nodded his head toward the other room. "We don't have to sit here and take this."

I lifted my chin and stood up, smoothing down my dress. Tucker held his hand out for me, and I took it, walking with him out of the warm, Christmassy living room into the den. As we walked out, I heard Gavin yell, "You're not helping your case!"

Our parents did book the adjoining rooms for the six-night cruise. The girls in one room, the boys right next door. I slept on the pull-out couch, as did Tucker and Steven in their room. We had balconies that connected. During the day, we kept our shared door propped open, so Steven and Gracie could sit on her bed and watch TV in the morning, so the boys could also use our bathroom, so Hattie, Jake and Gavin could share the beer and wine they brought.

The insinuations between me and Tucker did not go away. They steadily got worse as the school year progressed, but we just pretended not to care. Tucker had a series of girlfriends, a new one every month, and we didn't spend much time together, not even with Johnny. I had ballet for several hours every night, Johnny got a part-time job, and Tucker had baseball practice. On the weekends, I typically had rehearsals and they went on dates.

We didn't meet in Johnny's room or go hang out at the mall. I had a different lunch block than they did second-semester of junior year. We didn't have any classes together. He stayed home sick for Easter brunch and we both didn't make Friday night dinners anymore. I'd go weeks without seeing Tucker outside a pass in the hallway. On the cruise, however, I felt awkward hanging around with our siblings and their teasing commentary, so he and I took off on our own.

We didn't plan it necessarily, but we ate breakfast together and usually would go hang out at the pool, then have lunch and maybe cv watch a movie. He taught me how to play pool in the teen room. He could pass for twenty-one, so he'd buy us drinks and charge it to his parents' room. It was the first time in seventeen years that I'd spent a lot of alone time with Tucker, save for the room we shared at the beach. For those few days on the ship, we felt like friends.

We docked at the Bahamas on the last day. I sat on the beach next to Hattie. In the sand in front of us, the boys threw a football and wrestled, slamming each other into the ground.

"How does that not hurt?" I wondered.

"I think Tuck's developed a thick skin because of your crazy ass," Hattie commented. She opened her eyes to the sun and slid on her sunglasses. "You know, he's very hot."

"Seriously?"

I could see her eyes through the side of her glasses. "Do you know how many girls in Pine Place would kill to be in your shoes right now?"

I focused on Tucker's tight stomach, his abs clenching as Gavin's head landed in his chest, trying to knock him to the ground.

"You have the hottest guy in school following you around, completely obsessed with you."

"He's not following me around," I argued.

Hattie laughed, and I shushed her.

She sat up. "You didn't deny that he's obsessed with you."

As if on cue, Tucker brushed sand from his sticky chest and flickered his eyes at me. My stomach swooped for the first time in our friendship, heat rising to my cheeks, but I pushed it away quickly.

"He's not obsessed with me," I tried. "He's just a teenage boy."

Hattie laid back down. "All I'm saying is, I knew girls Gracie's year who wanted a piece of him when he was just a freshman. You have very valuable property at your fingertips."

"He's not an object , Hattie."

She shrugged. "Maybe you should just kiss him. Because you can . He wouldn't push you away. See what all the fuss is about."

"No," I scoffed. "I would never do that with him."

"Johnny doesn't have to know about it." She twisted her face to me. "If that's what you're worried about."

I didn't respond.

She doubled down: "Tucker's one of your best friends, he's gorgeous, and he's in love with you. I don't know what the problem is."

I swallowed, watching him step out of the water. "He's not in love with me. That's just a joke."

Hattie muttered, " Sure it is ."

Tucker trudged through the sand and came up beside my beach chair, squinting until he ducked under our umbrella. He exhaled, hands on his waist. "My ears were burning."

"Then you should put on some sunscreen," I said.

The side of his mouth raised. He shook his wet head, flicking drops of water on my face. My legs bent and his wet hand landed on my left knee, his fingers plastered on the inside of my thigh.

He said, "I'm going to get some ice cream. What flavor do you want?"

"Strawberry."

He nodded to Hattie. "Hat?"

She faced the beach, pretending to focus on the water, but I saw her eyes darting to the placement of his hand. "I'm good, thanks."

Tucker walked off, leaving a handprint on my skin, and Hattie chuckled to herself.

"Maybe you know what you're doing after all," she muttered.

It was our last dinner on the cruise. The doors of our adjoining rooms were opened. Hattie used the boys' mirror to curl her hair, Steven and Gracie laid on the bed watching a movie, and I sat behind our vanity, putting makeup on.

Through the mirror, I watched Tucker lean into the threshold of our rooms, watching me. He had only become tanner during this trip, I had patches of pink under my eyes. He called out, "What are you wearing ?"

Immediately, Steven and Gracie looked at me. My eyes flashed angrily at Tucker's reflection.

He continued, "You're not going to be able to eat anything in a dress that tight."

"Stop looking at my body," I snarled.

"Well, it's all out on display. How can I not?"

"I've been wearing bathing suits all week, what's the problem now?"

He recoiled. "People are gonna be trying to eat."

Gracie whispered to Steven, "I thought you talked to him?"

"I tried." He covered his face and shook his head. "The guy's clueless."

I bit my lips, trying to ignore Tucker, trying not to notice when Jake walked behind him, unsubtly lifting his chin to see into our room. My neck burned with heat. I picked up my mascara wand with a lightly shaking hand.

Tucker jeered, "At least tell me you're wearing a bra."

I twisted in my chair and shouted, "I don't have to tell you anything!"

"I have eyes, so I can tell it's a no ." He walked back into his room.

I faced myself in the mirror, looking at my midnight blue spaghetti strap dress, the stretchy material stopping a few inches above my knees. I had clipped my dark hair half-back, still wavy and salty from the ocean, pieces pulled out to frame my face.

Hattie yelled, "Don't listen to him, Ell! You look beautiful!" I didn't catch the words but heard her tell him off and his arguing tone respond.

Gracie reached up and tightened her bun. "She wants to look cute for that guy she's been eye-flirting with all week."

"What guy ?" Tucker demanded from behind the wall.

"The guy who sits at the opposite table every night at dinner," she explained.

"He's way older than her."

"So?"

" So …"

I finished putting eyeshadow around one of my eyes and Gracie added, "She was talking to him at the beach today."

Tucker stepped back into view. He was talking to her but looking at me. "When?"

"When she went for a walk."

I grumbled, "You guys don't have to talk about me when I'm right here ."

"He's a douche," Tucker said, walking into our room.

I scoffed, "You don't even know him!"

"He clearly can't respect bro code." He marched up to stand beside me. "He shouldn't be talking to you."

"Why not?" I dabbed highlighter on my cheekbones.

"Because of me ."

I pulled a face. "He probably thinks you're my brother or my cousin."

"Why would he think that?"

I gestured to the people around us. "We're on a family vacation."

Tucker's leg bounced and he breathed out of his nose, frustrated. His t-shirt heaved. He ignored Gracie's demands that he move out of the way - he stood in front of the television - and ground his teeth back and forth, watching me. Finally, he blurted, "That's what all this is about? Some guy? You never wear makeup."

"Yes, I do." I leaned forward, swiping mascara on my left eyelashes.

After a beat, Tucker grabbed my arm and pried the wand out of my hand.

"Elijah!" I screamed.

He grabbed my makeup bag and jumped backward. "If this guy likes you, he should want you without all of that ."

"Give it back!" I swiped at him, but he held the bag high over his head, well out of my reach. I climbed on the couch, and he leaned back, a smirk growing on his face, while our step-brother and sister groaned and protested. I threw my arm around his neck and propelled myself onto his body.

He laughed in surprise, holding me to him, as I reached for my bag. I pushed him off and hopped to the ground. Tucker's eyes gleamed, his hand reached for the balcony door.

"Don't you dare!" I screamed, throwing myself onto his back, knowing he would attempt to throw my stuff overboard. I hooked my arm around his throat.

He reached back and gripped my leg. "You're choking me," he struggled. He pinched his hand under my butt, trying to push me off.

I squirmed. "Get your hand off of my vagina!"

Gavin called out, "That's one of the uh-oh phrases Lori told us to listen for."

I stretched, grabbing my makeup bag, and my head hit the ceiling. I inhaled, grabbing my head.

"Oh, shit," Tucker muttered. "Are you okay?"

I moved my other hand to his shoulder, and he released his hold, sliding me off his back to the couch. Tucker's hand moved through my hair, and he leaned over me, repeating, "Are you okay?"

I pushed his hand away and lifted my knee to his groin.

He groaned in pain, falling into the couch beside me. "D ammit, Ella ."

On the way to dinner, I gingerly touched the spot on my head and my mom asked what happened. "Nothing," I replied.

Tucker kept coming up beside me, and I would stop walking and dart around him. At the table, Hattie made a motion to sit beside me, but he edged her out of the way. I figured he was trying to make up for before, to apologize, but he never said a word. He moved his water glass to the left side of his plate, next to my glass. He inched his chair closer to my chair. He took off his jacket and slung it on the back of my seat.

Throughout dinner, whenever I reached for my drink, he reached for his, forcing our hands to touch. He would relax with his arm draped on my chair. I smacked his hand away when he twirled a lock of my hair and played with the strap of my dress. Whenever he tried to tell me something stupid and inconsequential, he did it close to my face, whispering in my ear.

"Your breath smells like garlic," he muttered.

"Your breath smells like ass ," I hissed into his mouth.

When I ate my dessert, he kept trying to hold my hand, all the while keeping his eyes on the table ahead of us. The young guy I'd been eye-flirting with locked eyes with Tucker and frowned at the fingers threading through my hair. He turned his attention back to his family.

I fumed to Tucker, "I know what you're doing."

My mother piped up, "What is he doing?"

The adults stared at us with differing degrees of concern and amusement.

Jake snorted a laugh.

"It's kind of a Room 1011, Room 1012 inside joke," Gavin answered.

Lori nodded slowly, watching me flinch when Tucker's hand landed on my knee. She said, "Okay…just, um, keep an ear out for those uh-oh words."

I peeled Tucker's hand off of me, pushed my chair back, and announced, "I'm going to the bathroom."

"Me, too," he said.

I glowered at him when he stood up beside me.

"Separate bathrooms," my mother reminded. "Be back in five minutes or I'm sending someone to look in all the broom closets."

Gracie laughed, and I groaned, " Mom ."

On the walk to the bathroom, as we passed the table next door, Tucker put his hand on my lower back. I hurried out of his touch, thinking of what Hattie said about the plethora of girls at home who would die to have Elijah Tucker's hands on them. I thought about the girls who already had.

As always, I was nothing but a joke to him. He made a show out of pretending to be my boyfriend, just because I had the boldness to like a boy on a summer vacation. Tucker couldn't even give me one harmless night of flirtation with someone I'd never see again, all because he liked messing with me, making fun of me.

We walked down the long, wide hallway from the restaurant.

"Ella, wait," Tucker called from behind me.

"Leave me alone."

I heard him jog up behind me. Suddenly, his hand wrapped around mine and before I could shake him off, he tugged me with him through a door onto the nearest deck. It was empty, the sun was setting behind lifeboats. He took me with him across shuffleboard lines painted onto the wood and we paused on the side of the boat.

The pink sky reflected on his nervous face. "Wait," he said. He spun me around. His hand on my shoulders, I silently obeyed his guidance when he set me against the wall.

My mouth went dry.

Tucker leaned down, his voice shaky, and said, "Just once. Okay? Push me off if you don't want me to and I'll never do it again. Okay?"

Before I could speak, his mouth landed on mine.

My eyes were wide open, staring at his eyelashes. His hands moved down my arms, pinning them to my sides. Then, they moved further, to my hands. He hovered over me, his fingers twisted with mine, and his mouth opened, pulling me closer to him.

Surprisingly, no thoughts came to mind. I didn't think what he was doing or how I felt about it, I just…gave in.

I closed my eyes and freed my fingers, gliding them to his elbows. Tucker moved his hands to my hips and kept kissing me, long and slow, until his tongue plunged into my mouth, and I gasped.

He pulled away. I blinked my eyes open, both of us wide-eyed and terrified, and I bit my bottom lip. He looked at it.

"One more time," he muttered.

This time, he came at me fast. My arms wrapped around his neck and my mouth fell open to him. He pushed me up against the wall, one hand coming to my leg. He stroked my tongue with his and his hand moved up to my butt, squeezing the side of it. He sighed against my mouth. My chest pressed against him, and Tucker took my hips, pushing them away from him.

" Eli ," I whimpered when his lips ripped from mine.

He breathed heavily, running his hands down my sides, staring at my blue dress. His eyes darted back and forth, not able to meet mine. Then, he reached back for my wrists and pulled them from his neck, stepping back. "You go first."

My face burned with mortification when he turned around and pulled on his pant leg. I covered my mouth, walking slowly back to the dining room, my sandals smacking against the deck,

Tucker had just kissed me, and I never saw it coming. One time, he had said. I imagine his brothers might have had the same conversation with him that Hattie did me, urging him to kiss me just to try it.

I'd been kissed before, but not like that. It had only ever been uncomfortable and awkward, nervous and robotic, going through the motions to get it over with. Kissing for the sake of kissing. I realized then that I hadn't kissed anyone I really liked. I never had a proper boyfriend, I didn't have time for it, and I'd never put my mouth on someone I really wanted .

I never even wondered about kissing Tucker. The thought never crossed my mind. But when he pushed me up against the wall and stuck his tongue in my mouth, I felt how badly he wanted it. My nervousness and insecurities had floated away. I wondered if he would do it again.

I wanted him to do it again.

When got back to the table, my mom said, "Are you okay, Ella? You're white as a sheet."

I said yes.

Tucker walked in a minute after me.

Gavin pointed out, "That was longer than five minutes, guys…"

Tucker moved his chair away from me. He reset his glass of water. I felt shaky and nervous beside him, and I wondered if anyone would be able to tell what just happened. If so, they never let on. With all of the eyes that had been on us, they didn't say a word about how silently the two of us sat while they all finished their dessert.

I didn't speak to him for the rest of the night or when we packed to go home. I didn't see him for the rest of the summer. Senior year started and everything went right back to the way it had been - teasing, arguing, fighting. Only this time I knew what it felt like to have Tucker's hands on my body, out of want and not just necessity.

And I liked it.