I huff out a breath as I walk towards Miguel, keeping a hand on the rail for balance. The ocean feels choppier from the front of the boat, so I scurry as fast as I can towards Miguel’s bustling movements.
‘Hey! I’m Millie,’ I introduce myself. He’s humming softly, arranging tanks and what looks like black bulky life jackets neatly in a row.
‘Miguel.’ He shakes my hand in between swift movements. He smiles broadly, setting me instantly at ease. He has a thick accent I can’t place, but it’s definitely not Australian.
‘You’re so steady on a boat,’ I observe. Only once it’s out of my mouth do I realise how dumb I sound. Of course he’s steady on a boat, this is his job.
But, to my surprise, he smiles bigger, thrilled. ‘I just started, so I’m still getting my sea legs.’
‘Oh! Did you just move here?’
‘From Colombia.’ He runs a hand through his wavy dark hair, pulling a lock of it behind an ear. ‘I think I’m finally getting the hang of it.’
‘It seems like it.’ I clutch the railing to make sure I’m out of his way. We chat about the weather and the trips he’s done in the past. He’s cute, with an easy charm about him. This is his fifth trip. The question I’m desperate to ask is wriggling to the front of my brain. He’s so nice and we’re alone, so it seems like the perfect time.
‘Hey, Miguel,’ I say, interrupting him checking the air pressure on an oxygen tank.
He looks up, sensing the trepidation in my voice. His eyebrows press together, and his dark eyes grow big with worry. The colour drains from his face.
‘Are you going to be sick?’ he asks, reaching out a hand to steady me.
‘Oh, no, I feel fine!’ I say quickly.
The colour quickly returns to his cheeks, and he laughs. ‘I’m not good with puke,’ he confides in a whisper, ‘it freaks me out.’
‘Me too!’ I agree. ‘Someone else puking usually makes me sick.’ Miguel and I share a conspiratorial look that says,Nobody better be puking on this boat. Satisfied, he returns to checking air pressure. ‘What’s up?’
‘I was actually wondering if you could give me a refresher. I haven’t dived in a while, and I want to make sure I have a good handle on the equipment.’ I’m so nervous to ask that I stumble over some of my words, but Miguel doesn’t notice.
‘Sure thing!’ he says. ‘Come back up here when we’re closer to the reef, in another two hours or so, and I’ll run over everything with you.’ He holds my stare for a beat longer than normal, and I wonder if he’s like this with everyone on the boat.
‘Thanks,’ I say, breaking eye contact. I can’t help but feel a wave of relief. Miguel was nice about it, flirty, but nice,andno one else from the boat heard me ask. A marine biologist needing a dive refresher isn’t exactly in Millie’s notes for how to blend in.
I turn around to head back towards the benches to sit with the rest of the group and bump straight into someone’s chest. It’s so unyielding that I practically bounce backwards off it. And it smells slightly of cedar.
‘Ah!’ I cry out, although I am the only one who seems to be affected by our collision, seeing as the chest is immobile. I curse the narrow walkways of the boat. I’m bound to be bumping into people all week. I blink up into the face of the man I just hit as a deep voice grumbles back.
‘No worries,’ Hugh says, but he doesn’t move. Our torsos are so close we are centimetres from touching.
I feel my throat go dry again. ‘Ahem,’ I cough, sounding like a drowned cat. I take a step back from him but there’s so little space I only create six more inches between us.
Hugh opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. ‘Oh don’t tell me,’ I say, crossing my arms in front of my chest, ‘you’re going to point out that I’m in your way again, when really you just pick the most inconvenient place to stand.’
Hugh’s face cracks into a smile. My stomach flips.
‘Technically, I was here first,’ he says, his eyes not leaving mine. ‘But no, that isn’t what I was going to say.’
I feel my face softening. ‘OK,’ I mutter. ‘Forget I brought that up then.’
‘I was going to ask if you were OK with taking the top bunk . . .’
I squint up at him.Technically, I already wanted the top bunk . . . but he doesn’t need to know that. ‘Why?’ I ask. ‘Does the top bunk make you seasick?’
Hugh’s face remains impassive. ‘No,’ he says slowly.
‘I’m fine with whatever.’ I shrug, deciding to take a cue from Miguel. ‘I’mreallycomfortable on the water. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it soon. It’s just like riding a bike.’
‘I’m not uncomfortable on the water,’ Hugh says quickly, his lips pressing together.
