Page 95 of A Perfect Disaster

“Of course you know, Maika. Don’t take me for a fool.”

I instinctively glance down both sides of the corridor to make sure no crew members are eavesdropping on our conversation.

“Look, seriously, Arturo, I’m dead tired. If this is another one of your psychological tests, I beg you to save it for tomorrow.”

“It’s not an official evaluation, don’t worry,” he clarifies calmly.

“What a relief. Informal ambushes in hallways have always been my favorite,” I throw at him with every ounce of sarcasm left in my body.

A half-smile escapes Arturo’s lips.

“Helen is an impeccable officer, Maika,” Arturo continues in a serious tone, “but it’s a huge mistake to put the keys to your professional future in someone else’s hands. No matter how much you’re in love.”

The remark takes my breath away, but the truth is, I couldn’t care less about my future right now. What’s keeping me up at night is my grandmother and the fear that they’ll move her to some godforsaken town. As contradictory as that may sound right now.

“It’s just that you have no idea what they’re like,” I murmur.

He takes a step toward me, softening his expression a little.

“What is it that I don’t know, Maika? Speak up.”

“That it’s not just my future I’m risking on this cruise,” I blurt out, my eyes brimming with tears.

“Well, if there’s more at stake, that’s all the more reason you should stop playing games,” he snaps at me.

“And why are you telling me all this now?”

“Because I’ve seen many brilliant people pass through these ships who’ve ruined their careers because of fear, regret, or a bad decision. You’d do well to keep that in mind for the future.”

I let out a bitter laugh.

“Wow, what a motivational speech. Thanks.”

“And I’m also telling you this because this position onshore needs someone brave. Someone capable of making difficult and uncomfortable decisions. Even when those decisions sting or hurt the people we love most.”

At that moment, Helen’s face comes to mind, what we went through in the past, and everything I owe her because of my mistakes. But I also see my grandmother’s face and the promise I made to take care of her. I don’t want to let down either of the two people I love most in this world.

“Come on, go get some rest, Maika. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“They’ve all been that way lately.”

“Tomorrow’s will be especially so. Because Julianne and I have already made a decision.”

He turns and walks away down the inner hallway, leaving me there alone, my heart racing and a certainty running through my body like a chill: that it doesn’t matter at all what decision Helen or I make, because in the end, real life always makes sure to make you pay the price and shatter your plans.

31

Helen

I’ve tried everything to keep a cool head, to force myself not to dwell on the Maika situation and to enjoy one of the last free nights we’ll have before we hit the chaos of the port. But it’s impossible. My body is on the beach and my mind is locked up on the ship, reliving over and over the way she ran off after that damn call. I’ve spent the whole time mulling over the same thing: the solution to her problems doesn’t involve me dropping out of the race and letting her have that damn spot. Maika needs money now, urgently; she can’t just sit back and wait for a promotion to go through and her first paycheck to arrive in a month.

“Guys, I’m outta here. I’m going to the ship to check on Maika,” I blurt out, cutting off one of Nico’s long-winded speeches. I stand up, brushing the sand off my legs. “Have fun and don’t end up getting arrested.”

“Go on, go,” Lara encourages me with a knowing wink. “I’ll make sure these two don’t end up swimming naked and get us in trouble with the local police.”

With a half-smile, I leave the group’s commotion behind and head briskly toward the dock, my heart pounding hard against my ribs. As soon as I reach the Marine IV, I cross the crew gangway in three-step strides and disappear into the labyrinth of corridors leading to the cabins.

Maika’s cabin is barely four steps from mine. I could walk right past it, crawl into my bed, call it a day, and try to forget that broken look that left me frozen on the beach. But that would be lying to myself. I stand in front of her door, take a deep breath to steady my pulse, and knock softly with my knuckles. I get no answer, but when I push, the door gives way. It’s open, like a silent invitation to discover the disaster hiding on the other side.