Chapter three

This is my favourite part.

We've stepped into the shade now, and my toes are no longer grilling on my sandals. Swapping my duffel bag to my left shoulder, I shake my shirt, trying to get some air in. It's hot, but it will be hotter inside.

There are so many people. A majority of the younger ones seem excited, most adults look very stressed, and several just seem plain confused.

I smile at the confused ones. I used to be like that.

Finally, we're past the baggage scanners and inside the terminal. But it's not your definition of a terminal.

As I eye my surroundings for an empty table, I feel something bump into and wrap around my right leg. But when I look down, I see a little boy wearing bright green sandals, swimming shorts, a rashy, a tiny bag on his back, and giving me the widest of brown eyes, dusty like the outback of Australia.

"You right there, kid?"

I smile at him, but he doesn't smile back. He mumbles something, so I lean down to listen.

"M-Mum… Where's Mum?" he mutters nervously, little fist against his mouth.

I take his hand that was around my leg and start to lead him around so he can look for his mum. He's completely silent, but his eyes are searching all around.

Not even a minute passes when we find his mum, who looks super stressed out that I feel super sorry for her. She possibly has another three children, and this one just happened to wander off.

I mean, I don't blame the kid. This is a big place, and with the brain of a child, and the mind of Curious George, of course he would. Well, I would too.

I was maybe six or seven years old when I first came here. The day wasn't as hot, but I was still in my swimmers because when I heard there was a pool on-board, I practically had a mini heart attack. Over my swimmers I wore a Dora The Explorer dress, and I innocently skipped around, pulling my sunglasses up and down, over my eyes and off my eyes, because I thought it looked cool.

At seventeen, I'm back again. And I've been on so many cruises I've lost count. I'm with my sunglasses, but my Dora The Explorer dress was long donated to charity.

I laugh at that Tasmin, and I see that spirit in the boy beside me.

When his mum spots me, she breathes a sigh of relief and waves me and her son over.

"Thank you so much," she breathes, taking her son's hand before continuing, "Sorry, I should've been keeping more of an eye on him."

"That's okay." Looking back down at her son. "First time?"

"First time, indeed. But this one," gently shaking his wrist, "He was just excited for the pool."

Grinning at him, I tell him, "You'll get there soon, okay?"

He nods his head fast, but I think he is more scared than understanding.

"Tasmin!"

Behind me, at a desk, Emily and Lilli are waving me over.

Oh, did I mention that my two best friends are tagging along?

I wave good-bye to the boy and his mother before joining my friends at the desk. Lilli is helping Emily fill out the 'Personal Details' sheet while I stand behind them, trying to get a glimpse through the window at the ship we're about to board. I stand, a small dot inside a big terminal, in a massive city.

The journey here wasn't far. Emily, Lilli and I are lucky to live only an hour's drive away, in the Illawarra district, where we attend a private high school for girls.

It's hard to believe that I cried about going to an all-girls school.

Oh no, I'll never get to sit next to a boy again! I'll never get a boyfriend! I'll never see any boys again! Puh-leeze.

We left behind flexible school rules, practically no uniform policy, and most importantly, boys, and adopted strict rules with harsher consequences, piles of homework and long tests.

"Earth to Tasmin…"

Emily is tugging on my off-shoulder top, dragging it too low for my liking. Taking the pen from her, I pull the strap high up on my shoulders before sitting on the plastic high stool to fill out my details. I decide to stand again, since the undersides of my thighs are already starting to sweat.

As I write, my mind is elsewhere. The muffled but constant noises behind me remind me vaguely of my primary school, and my favourite year; year six. My final year there. Also known as: the year I met Harry Evans. The boy with the incredibly cute British accent and a heart of pure twenty-four-karat gold.

But then I recall the annoying boys who attended that school. Glancing up, I find a trio of annoying-looking boys strutting like peacocks past the window, each of them carrying a duffel bag.

One of them, Asian-looking, tall and lean, who I can assume is a good swimmer, is tagging behind his two friends, sporting a white K-Mart singlet over baggy Adidas tracksuit pants. At first glance, he looks intimidating, but there is a warm blush on his face, and his smile is bright, challenging the sun.

Practically skipping in front of Swimmer Dude is Oliver Twist's twin brother. His blond hair shines platinum blond under the glare of the sun, and loose strands bounce over his pale and excessively-freckled face. He's grinning cheekily at everything, blue eyes piercing all they look at.

And finally, the most formal-looking of the three, is walking calmly beside his two buddies. But he's also flashing a nice smile, with white and perfectly-straight teeth I wish I had. I notice how he is more fashionably-dressed than the other two, and how his sneakers are unbelievably clean. Suddenly, he's brushing his dark wavy hair out of his deep-set eyes, and glancing my way.

I don't even have to check if my cheeks are as red as a tomato.