Chapter One

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Mom never took no for an answer. So, when she came into the kitchen grinning like that, I knew I was in for it.

She perched herself on the stool next to me and slapped four papers down on the kitchen counter. They each had barcodes on them.

Coupons maybe? No, not coupons. I stared at them blankly.

"Am I supposed to know what this is?" I asked.

Mom sighed, deeply disappointed in my cognitive skills. She pushed the papers closer to me as if their distance was the reason I didn't understand, pointed to a line of text, and said, "They're tickets for a cruise to the Bahamas."

She looked at me expectantly. I supposed she thought I would jump for joy, but I stayed seated on my stool and suppressed the urge to laugh at such a ridiculous proposition.

"Have fun," I said, choosing to believe that she was going without me.

She glared at me. "It's a family vacation, Marjo. You're going too."

I just shook my head. "I'll pass."

"Did you not hear me?" she said, getting annoyed. "It's a cruise to the Bahamas." Noting my still unenthused face she added, "And your ticket is already paid for."

Nothing a little door-to-door sales couldn't solve. I was a Girl Scout once.

"Give it to someone else," I suggested.

It was seldom that I agreed to be anywhere near the ocean let alone on top of it. Mom's obsession with the ocean made no sense to me.

Humans belonged on land. Why would we leave it? We had no chance against whatever horrendous sea creature was lurking in those waters, not to mention the water itself. Humans can't breathe water. Why does it feel like people keep forgetting that?

She crossed her arms and stared me down. The look of determination in her eyes was almost as fiery as the hair that framed her face. "Why don't you want to go?"

I sighed. I didn't want to have this conversation. "I've told you before," I said slowly. "I don't want to go on a cruise."

"You've never even been on one," she chided. "How could you know you don't like it?"

I didn't respond. I'd never been on one for a reason. The thought of being on the ocean terrified me. That had never changed.

"Well, it wasn't a suggestion," Mom continued impatiently. "So, pack a bag for a week-long cruise. We leave on Monday." I groaned and she gave me a stern look. "I never had the chance to do this when I was your age. You should be grateful."

I am grateful, I wanted to say. But this is your dream, not mine.

**

I lay on my bed, stretched out on my back, and stared at the ceiling. My suitcase sat in the corner of my room, mocking me. It was much too bright and much too early for this. I threw my hand up to shield my eyes from the morning light piercing through the window.

My brother bounced into my room, his brown hair flopping as he went. When he saw what I was doing, he furrowed his brow and the excitement faded away from his face.

"Get up!" he whined. "You're going to make us late!"

I lifted my head to look at him. He was wearing his favorite light blue T-shirt with a long, white wave across the front. Another reminder of what today was.

Cruise day.

The day I tormented myself by going onto the ocean. Why was I doing this again? Oh yeah, I didn't have a choice.

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