Page 97 of A Perfect Disaster

“I couldn’t be anywhere else in the world.”

32

Maika

Ibiza. Day ten of the trip.

“I’m completely serious when I say this: this trip should end with a medal for each of us,” declares Gonzalo, raising the butter knife as if he were King Arthur himself brandishing Excalibur.

“A medal for what? For surviving the double shifts?” asks Lara.

“For surviving without going crazy. That’s enough,” he corrects her, pointing the knife at her. “It seems you’re forgetting everything we’ve been through.”

The most decisive day of the entire journey begins with Gonzalo and his usual nonsense as he eats his toast as if the end of the world were coming in a few hours.

The Marine IV moves steadily forward as it cuts through the waters of the Balearic Islands, and the silhouette of Ibiza begins to take shape on the horizon. Outside, the morning sun peeks timidly through the portholes of the crew mess hall—this blessed belowdecks corner where a million battles are also fought. Today we’ve thrown protocol to the wind and pushed two tables together, just to get a little human warmth before the final judgment.

Next to me, Helen is much quieter than usual. Her eyes are fixed on her cup, as if she were expecting the coffee grounds to predict something. I know her, and I know she’s mulling something over. She shoots me fleeting, sidelong glances, and I suppose it has to do with that damn promotion.

As I play with my cup in my hands, I feel my stomach completely knot up.

Today we’re going to be in the hot seat, and all I want is for this damn competition to be over once and for all. No matter how much my professional future might shatter this love that’s been reborn.

“Listen, Maika,” Leo whispers to me, putting on a face of utter drama. “Do you think that when one of you becomes the new boss, she’s going to keep letting us get away with these secret breakfasts?”

“Well, it’ll all depend on which boss you end up with,” I reply, shrugging as I watch Helen’s reactions.

“If she wins, you can forget about it,” Nico jokes, reaching for another piece of toast. “She’d probably make us fill out a form in triplicate just to move a chair.”

The group bursts into laughter, and Helen points her teaspoon at him, narrowing her eyes.

“Don’t give me any ideas, Nico, because I’m quite capable of putting that into practice tomorrow.”

During this moment of glory, the morning feels like a typical day on the voyage. It’s the kind of scene I’d keep tucked away in my heart forever. Especially seeing Helen smile that way—a smile only I have the privilege of knowing intimately.

However, my chest tightens again the moment I look at her intently. I love her so much. I love her when she’s in drill sergeant mode, and I love her when she tries to act like an ordinary human being. I love her with her doubts, with her fears, and with those silences where it seems like she’s about to confess the secret of her life to me, only to backtrack and spout another stock phrase. But right now, fear gets the better of me. Because self-love is very nice, yes, but it doesn’t pay the bills at the nursing home. And the letdown wipes the smile off my face.

Helen’s eyes seek mine as if she’d read what’s going on inside me.

“Maika… are you okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry,” I lie, holding her gaze.

Gonzalo, who either doesn’t notice a thing or is the most strategic guy on the ship, starts spinning a story about a passenger who threw a fit at him yesterday because he wanted the captain to stop the cruise ship in the middle of the sea since he’d left his sunglasses in a shop at the terminal. The group bursts out laughing, but Helen doesn’t take her eyes off me.

Suddenly, the communicator on her belt starts beeping. A second later, mine does too. And right after that, our phones vibrate on the table with a synchronicity that’s downright creepy.

Leo stares at his cup with a face like he’s at a funeral.

“Please, don’t let the passenger deck be flooded again.”

Nico crosses himself with a paper napkin. But it’s a message summoning Helen and me to the lounge on Deck 9.

“Well,” Lara says tenderly, breaking the ice, “whatever happens, know that I’m so proud of you. Both of you.”

“And a textbook pair of drama queens—let’s not forget that detail,” adds Nico, who’d die if he didn’t get in that little dig.

“That too, why deny it?” Lara concedes with a smile.