Chapter twenty-three

"Hey, I heard that there's going to be a movie night on the top deck tomorrow night," Charlie informs us.

We're at the buffet for lunch after our karaoke session (where the boys just flat out refused to sing), and now we're trying out all the cuisines on my insistence.

So Emily's devouring some tacos from Mexico, Charlie's inhaling some iconic slices of margherita pizza from Italy, Ben is trying not to explode after bringing to the table some spicy-looking Indian curry, Harry's slurping up noodles from China, Tasmin's got some souvlaki and Greek yoghurt and Pita bread from Greece, and I'm swallowing some sushi whole.

"Do you think we could go? Some of us aren't adults yet," Tasmin replies.

"I dunno, I just heard about it from some other teenagers. I mean, we could just shoot our shot and rock up," Charlie continues.

There's no way we're taking any of those risks. "And risk getting kicked out by security? Hell, nah."

Harry perks up. "We could ask someone," he suggests. "I can head down to reception later today to ask."

"Sounds good," I reply. I also think of something that could help Harry's relationship with my best friend. "Hey, maybe Tasmin could go with you in case you get lost," I add in casually.

Harry smiles, and I'm convinced he'll say yes, but instead: "I'm fine on my own, thanks."

It's been a single day on this cruise, but I've honestly already had the time of my life. When I was younger, I always found boys too much of a distraction in life, hence my willingness to attend an all girls' school. And though I would never admit it, I know that part of who I am today was from pressure caused by the opposite sex. And the problem is that I was the type of person to convince others that impressing boys should never be a girl's goal. It pains me to think that I'm guilty of breaking my own rule.

Disregarding said disappointment, these boys have somehow set me free. I don't feel pressured to conserve my attitude in any way. I can be me, for me.

I continue stuffing my face with sushi, but I notice that Harry's distracted. He's barely eating, and he keeps glancing towards the entrance of the buffet. His eyes dart around restlessly, like he's impatient or anxious or something.

What or who is he looking at?

"Harry, you —"

"I'll be in the bathroom, guys, if you need me," he says, talking over me and quickly getting up and leaving the table.

I glance around the table. Ben shrugs and goes back to eating, Charlie's avoiding my gaze, Tasmin's just staring, and Emily turns to Charlie and asks, "Is he always having mood swings or something?"

Later on, after our filling lunch, we pile into the lounge for seventeen year-old's and upwards. It's sunny here, and I don't understand how all these people aren't melting in this excruciating heat under the ball of fire that shoots millions of death rays at us every millisecond.

The beds here are round and wide, and probably able to fit about six people at once. That is, if they lay down flat, side-by-side. So that's exactly what we do.

Emily dives in first, claiming the middle as "her space", then the rest of us climb in around her.

I aim for the shade, but Charlie takes my hand.

"Come on, I've got something to show you," he says. His smile is wide but his eyes are hard, like he's signalling me to just stay quiet and listen and follow. I'm scared for a second, but he winks at me and the knot of stress in my stomach loosens a bit.

I give him a thumbs-up. He glances at Harry, who nods at him, and I stand and follow Charlie away from the group. He takes me further across the deck, dodging ladies tanning, drinks on the brink of spilling and obnoxious surfer dudes towards a more deserted part of the lounge. He leans over the railing and I join him there.

"So," I start, "You wanted to show me… the water?"

He chuckles. I like the way his smile makes his face wrinkle a little. His dimples are cute. I want to just reach forward and pinch his cheek, but I refrain.

"No, it's about Harry."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I noticed that you noticed that there's something up with him," he says to me, and I'm glad he noticed. "So Harry gave me the permission to tell you why."

So I seal my lips tight so I can listen to Charlie's, well, Harry's explanation. I ask a few questions here and there, because his explanation doesn't answer everything about his behaviour, but I mainly stay silent. When Charlie's done, he pushes back from the rail and sighs.

"I know. It's probably not a big deal to you, but Harry's been through a lot," Charlie says. I think he's trying not to be too emotional, but I know he cares a lot. "I've watched it all. The breakdowns, the hysterical tears, everything." Charlie takes a deep breath. "But he doesn't want sympathy. He just wants you to know."

The sun beams down and I'm wondering what that water feels like down there.

"Wait, why just tell me?" I ask him.

Charlie turns to me. "You deserve to know."

"And the rest of the group doesn't?" I press on.

A sigh. "He's planning on telling Tasmin eventually. I know that's what you care about," he says, and again, I'm glad he notices these things. "And Ben's known longer than me. Their families are close, and they helped a lot more than my family ever did, so… just give him some time," he tells me, a hint of pleading in his voice. "Harry will choose when to tell Tasmin, but he doesn't want to keep you or Emily in the dark either, so…"

"...So he got you to tell me," I finish for him.

"Yeah," he nods. "But it also means that when the time is right you can also tell Emily."

I feel bad, not telling Tasmin. If I were Tasmin, I'd beat me up if my best friend kept so much from me, but for now, it's for the best.