Despicable. Frith Holiday glowered out at the wicked show of deception orchestrated by the contemptible Daniels. His greasy mustache twisted in a smirk as Florin Daniels was subjected to catatonic shock. This was his goal in keeping the cruise a secret, to utterly torment his kin? How deprived.

  Yet Frith couldn’t force all the blame on the slimy leech. His own silence had aided in the bastard’s scheme. Was a promise of a day’s withheld torment worth the helping hand in that shock? Damn it. Problems are compounding by the hour.

  The alumni all gathered around Florin Daniels, attuned to his emotional state, and began to offer support: towering O’Neil in the forefront, the eccentric Hawks singing their approval of the change, Miles hovering nearby to coo, and even Copperfield using both of his brain cells to string together agreement. With Miranda being Daniels’ shadow, all were present in one condensed group. All for-

  Frith snapped to attention as Crottie marched up to him, her henpecking nursemaid persona primed. Her cheekbones rode high, giving her soft face the illusion of sharpness while heavy makeup tried to darken her eyebrows and lashes from natural washed-out blonde. Her eyes squinted pointedly. “Answer me honestly, Holiday. You an’ I both know that you’d sooner have an ice pick shoved under your nails than willingly enter a social situation, especially one involving Shilling in close quarters for a week straight. So, why are you here?”

  He regarded her apathetically. “I needed to use my vacation hours.”

  “Liar.”

  “Believe what you may, Crottie.” He took a few steps away from her. She didn’t take the hint.

  “I think it’s very pertinent, Holiday!”

  She was trying to get on his good side with her word choice. Experience cautioned him against honesty around her. Within a day, all would be privy to her information. How was he supposed to get rid of a persistent nag again? Was it to throw a bone or intimidation?

  Crottie stamped in front of him. “It ain’t a crime to worry over someone, ya know!”

  I didn’t ask for you to worry. Frith would wait her out. There was more than enough excitement from the rest of their crew to bait her.

  The main group had gathered their luggage and were approaching the luxury liner Juniper, filling the air with a cacophony of conversations. Crottie glanced over her shoulder, then finally relented. “This conversation ain’t through with, mister!”

  I guess nothing’s changed. Frith reasoned he should count his blessings and contemplate more pertinent lines of thought.

  As he marched through the lines of schooners and yachts, he found his eyes zeroing in on Florin Daniels again. His condition had improved from utter shock, and he contributed to the encircling discussions.

  How did someone as thoroughly average as him conjure such goodwill and support? Average physical build, short red hair, oval face with rounded eyes outlined by half-framed square spectacles, with the ability to melt into a crowd in plain sight. Every person Florin Daniels interacted with, be they car salesmen-types like the disreputable Daniels or hometown mother Miles, was offered appropriate conversation and kindness. Thoroughly normal, yet not.

  Frith held back from further mental exploration. He’d bide his time as expected, making guesswork as to timing and mood. In other words: develop his side until it was time to trade up.

  The Juniper bobbed from its anchor, its grand white hull garnished with undoubtedly hand-painted insignias of stars and flourishing lines to accentuate its name. She sat high in the water to accommodate the two or more levels of occupancy, partially obscuring its deck amenities. The yacht belonged to a family of expensively commissioned ships for the average millionaire with opulent friends to impress. According to the information compiled on this vessel, it was being neglected by its owner. Instead of selling it, the owner hired his staff out to charter tourists in a sample of extravagance.

  Calling out their awe and approval, the graduates of Brighton crowded the stern gangplank.

  Waiting for them were a gaggle of multicultural workers in pressed white uniforms. After an exchange of information, they began to haul in the luggage. They used the swinging double doors to enter the ship directly instead of hiking up the two curving stairways to the upper deck.

  One individual stepped out from the crew, a mere child in comparison. Dark, short, tomboyish hair poked out from her outdated naval captain’s hat, the brim partially covering one of her sparkling amber eyes. Not even a wrinkle showed on her face, prompting the mental question of how old one had to be for the proper qualifications of boating. She introduced herself as Captain Collingwood; her first name was completely irrelevant and was discarded. She began to praise her vessel, as if announcing its amenities would make them commit to the vacation more. Acting the gracious host, she offered a guided tour.

  The captain climbed up the stairs, spinning girlishly at the top. Once the graduates followed, she gestured widely about. She pointed out the obvious, naming the pool and sitting area as a fantastic place to spend the day.

  Finding nothing worth noting in her words, Frith ignored her high, tittering voice and took in the scenery at his own pace. The deck, which was covered in some kind of white pseudo-stonework tiling, was decorated with white, reclining, padded beach chairs with strategically placed tables snuggled under tarp awnings. The tile mosaic of the sea floor accentuated the swimming pool and an ironwork arch stood across the width as an accent and anchor point to many hanging lights.

  At the edge of the outside deck was a line of modern, blocky black and white sofas. A crystalline bar counter stood between the sofas and the interior of the ship. Outdoor walkways to the bow of the ship were visible from this vantage point. According to the lines of decks and windows, there were about two levels above their current one, not mentioning the below level where the luggage was delivered. The Juniper had four habitable floors and approximately 300 ft in length; perhaps the worries about a claustrophobic experience were unfounded.

  The group moved forward, and Frith followed. The first interior room was a dining room with a pompous flair. A dining table of dark wood and ornamental carvings, surrounded by red and black upholstered armchairs was the least of note. What Captain Collingwood immediately began gushing over was the curving wall of glass that acted as a display case for pieces of abstract art. Each piece sat in its own cubby, a paper printout listing its name and creator.

  Frith halfheartedly gave the sculptures and paintings a once-over. No household artist names were on the plaques and therefore held no sway. Part of Frith demeaned the collection for not throwing money at an arbitrary Picasso. If an aristocrat wished to flaunt, why settle with these? Then he killed the thought with impunity. Such reactions needed to stay pruned away.

  The captain tempted the group onward towards a second wall of collections and introducing the kitchen as nearby, but politely inaccessible. Frith Holiday let his eyes wander, examining the glow stick-like lines of lights embedded in the walls. Miranda’s smoker-tinged voice suddenly caught his notice.

  “What the fuck is up with that one, Shill?”

  The pretentious man answered with suspicious cheer, “No name or anything. Are you sure you didn’t slap that in there when I wasn’t looking?”

  “Like I have the skill to draw worth shit,” Miranda growled. “Whatever, it’s all just dyes and oil on a cloth, what’s the point?”

  “I should take you to art shows more often,” the cretin Daniels joked.

  The horrible couple eased away from their discovery, continuing their profane chat. Others of the group understandably gave them a wide berth.

  Frith slowly followed, chancing a look at what had been so noteworthy. He stopped. An unadorned painting sat in the corner of the first wall of glass. It depicted an immaculately drawn hand and wrist flipping the middle finger. The colors were sharp, red and greens and blues at their highest concentrations made triangles and splatter effects for the background. He had no eye for art or composition, but he’d heard that most pieces had a story or emotion behind them. It was clear that the artist had one message in this artwork: irreverent rebellion.

  He found himself smiling at the sense of nostalgia that followed. June would have loved this. Curiosity satisfied, he passed by the kitchen.

  A pair of spiraling staircases, for both starboard and port, burrowed partially into the next room. This was a sparkling golden lounge, though Frith figured it for more of a maze of couches, armchairs, and ottomans. Millionaires that owned yachts seemed to have it in mind that they shouldn’t have to leave a room to find a chair. Sprinkled in amongst the copious furniture were various gambling machines. A roulette table commanded the center, some slots framed the edges, and billiards tables and card tables filled in the rest of allotted space.

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Captain Collingwood said, “These machines have operable buttons and levers, but no money goes in or out. If you wish to test your luck, you can with no repercussions.” Her continued words contributed nothing and were tuned out again.

  Frith spotted a noteworthy table on the starboard side. A chessboard was carved into its surface, rosewood and birch squares bringing an earthy feel to the game’s battlefield. He grimaced as his eyes caught a grievous mistake. The black king and queen were switched. How hard was it to keep a king to his e-file?

  He tried to pay attention to the graduates’ movements, but the displaced king burrowed deep into his mind like a thorn. Sighing, he marched to the table and made the proper adjustment. The heavy clack of the cast-iron pieces against the wood was pleasing. It made for a much more effective audial cue of a forceful or quiet move. Frith found another error, switching the bishops to stand guard next to their monarchs and freeing the knights to gallop between the clergy and the rooks. Whoever had played at the table last was possibly ignorant of the decorum.

  Finally satisfied in the arrangement, Frith Holiday turned to rejoin the tour. Instead, he found Florin Daniels standing nearby, examining him. Frith froze.

  “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get left behind, Holiday.” A gentle smile shaped his face.

  His mind turned over possible responses. A thank you? Should I bring up the request? No, wait. The longer he poured over words, the more uncomfortable things would become. Frith finally answered, “Thank you.”

  They walked together towards the sound of the tour. Florin Daniels said, “You know, the idea of a cruise is a bit overwhelming. It’s like we’re in a completely different world.”

  Guilt forced Frith to respond. “Forgive me for keeping the true nature of the vacation a secret.”

  Florin Daniels raised an eyebrow, looking almost childishly perplexed.

  “Your brother planned for this change many months ago. Had I known that you reacted so intensely to surprises, I would not have allowed my silence to be bought.”

  The confusion remained on his face: a bad sign. It was a terrible idea to bring up this line of thought to begin with. Frith could only imagine how many steps backwards he was taking.

  Florin Daniels finally replied, “I’m sorry, my memory is a little fuzzy. Um, did we become friends during senior year?”

  Frith started internally panicking. He had to double down on the point he was trying to get across. It took all his focus to keep his voice even. “No, we were not. I find it impossible to not find sympathy for your plight that your kin so publicly dragged you through.”

  “Oh, right, sorry about that.” He looked away, cheeks growing red.

  Why are you apologizing? You were not at fault! Frith fought to hold his tongue.

  “Anyways, I guess things can only get better from here. Let’s try to catch up with the others.” Florin Daniels beamed, then advanced towards the bow.

  Frith held back a moment, letting the tension seep from his body. Impromptu conversations were going to do him in. He’d been lax on formulating such responses since his day-to-day interactions were far more trying, but no plan at all was not working. He’d capitalize on the freedom from the conniving Daniels to prepare.

  Finally to the bow deck, Frith Holiday was afforded a brief glance at the wide, open area that was framed by a small collection of seats and a metal fire pit. It was empty of alumni. Feeling tethered to the rest, he followed them up a half-spiral staircase to the next floor.

  An unremarkable Jacuzzi introduced the next floor. It was empty here too. Frith pushed open the glass door to the interior and found something far cozier. Wooden walls framed the next room, a study from the looks of it. An old-fashioned sliding door was half-open as the tour mingled inside. Frith could catch a glimpse of a few books lining the wall, cradled in opulent, earthy wooden shelves. Entering would involve jostling the others, signifying its small size and single entrance.

  Captain Collingwood led the way out, her inane introduction apparently over. The others streamed after her. Frith glanced in the study, satisfied in a potential hideout that wasn’t a bedroom.

  The following area widened like a patio, expansive windows bathing the area in sunlight. The decorations were back to the reds, whites, and blacks of metallic or modern furniture. A bar counter stocked to the brim with colorful bottles and glasses was the main attraction, complimented by an open grill area. Instead of the single table of the lower floor, this eating area had small circular tables, decorated to look like roulette wheels. At most, three plates of food could cover the surface before crowding.

  Collingwood’s tour finally carried relevant information. “Most lunches will be served up here with breakfasts and dinners in our dining room. We can alter the schedule if you submit a request with our staff at least an hour before expected supping times: 7am, noon, and 6pm. There is a service button at our grill that will summon an on-shift cook to prepare any cuisine listed on our menu at any time. Furthermore, if requested, we can craft various snacks during non-dining hours and can deliver it to you at any location. Just find a crew member and point to provided menus you see displayed on all of our tables. Not all our workers are fluent in English, but they know our food well.”

  “Any location?” Steve Hawk asked, “Can I get snacks delivered to me while on the toilet?”

  Qadira Hawk jostled her twin, telling him off while giggling.

  Collingwood amended her statement, “Anywhere within reason.”

  The aft of the patio stretched into a sunning-bed dedicated deck. It was given a cursory glance before they climbed the spiral stairs to the upper deck.

  It was clear that this was the level that had the most luxury by design. The floors were tiled black and white, not unlike a chessboard. An exercise room sat at the bow, loaded with the latest home gym equipment: treadmills, bikes, presses, and even a rowing machine. The other attractions fed into the relaxation and fitness aspect: a massage parlor and a sauna.

  Then, the crowning cabin was introduced. The master cabin was a luxury bedroom with far more square footage than the furniture inside it could fill comfortably. It had a single bed facing its own personal balcony that overlooked the swimming pool. The whole room dripped of royal red with gold accents. The master bath had a Midas’s touch inspiration, making the garish thing overwhelmingly golden.

  Collingwood beckoned the tour onward to the lowest deck where the rest of the cabins were. In the middle of the collection of bedrooms was a curious room filled with many TV cabinets lining the occasional length of wall. The area had a retro, bowling alley-like carpet with playing card designs. The seats here were beanbags or banana-shaped chairs. The casual decor was elucidated as Collingwood opened one of the TV cabinets and introduced a grand selection of the latest video game consoles with accompanying libraries.

  This prompted the Hawk twins to explode in a tizzy, spouting appreciation over the apparent rarity of models or game copies. They even praised the organization of the cabinets, one for each major brand.

  The twins were finally coaxed from the video game parlor for the final amenity to be displayed: a movie theater. It was a thickly enclosed space, dark curtains covering the walls for sound buffering. The screen was not a projector, merely a large flat-screen. Frith didn’t doubt that hidden inside the walls were surround sound speakers. Lounges and recliners replaced chairs here, almost tempting a nap from the viewers—or something more uncouth.

  Collingwood pointed out the six cabins on the floor before giving her customers a farewell. She pranced away with pep, almost losing her footing on the way out.

  This child is supposed to navigate us through the Keys? I’ll investigate lifeboat locations.

  “Wait, there’s only seven places to sleep? What will the last of us end up doing?” Florin Daniels mused.

  “Ah, Florin makes an excellent point!” The disagreeable Daniels crooned. “It looks like we have a small class division: a suite, two rooms with double beds, and the four single beds. We’ll need three pairs to fit everyone.”

  “Shill and I will take the suite,” Miranda growled. Her angled features sharpened with frown lines at the protests. “Oh, I’m sorry, who did the majority of the legwork in organizing this fucking ocean-bound reunion?”

  “If anyone deserves the suite, it should be Florin!” O’Neil countered. “Without him getting the ball rolling, we wouldn’t even be here.”

  Florin Daniels flushed immediately. “I couldn’t take that room! It’s way too extravagant!”

  Miranda leaned back against the curtained wall, bony elbows jutting out like lionfish spines. “Sleep in the suite and you share a bed with someone here. Feel like snuggling up, Boy Scout?”

  The poor man grew even more crimson. “No!”

  “Shill and I are in a relationship,” Miranda grunted. “Unless the twins want to show off their sibling love, he and I are the obvious choice for the suite.”

  Steve Hawk lifted his finger and opened his mouth but said nothing for a spell. “Eh, what the heck. I’m not going to fight for the suite.” His sibling shook her head, whipping those nearby with her hair. He continued, “Kaddy and I can take one of the double rooms. We shared a room for all of childhood, it’s no skin off our backs.”

  Copperfield raised his hand. “I can’t really share a bedroom, sayin’ that off the bat. I got me a wife and I’m promised to her.”

  Miles echoed the sentiment.

  Thankfully, someone volunteered. “If it’s alright with him,” O’Neil spoke, “Florin and I can bunk together.”

  Florin Daniels eyed Crottie and Frith, perhaps mentally assembling other pairs that could fare better or worse. “Yes, I think that’s our best option.”

  “Wonderful!” the untrustworthy Daniels announced. “That wasn’t so hard. With that out of the way, we have a very free and malleable schedule in front of us. Shall we play it by ear, or shall we organize events for today?”

  “Pool volleyball!” Qadira Hawk cried. “Steve and I have water guns and pool noodles and diving toys. That pool is going to have half of it splashed out onto the deck if I have a say in it! We could even get a tournament or contest going where the loser has to takes shots before karaoke.”

  Karaoke? Frith must have missed that being mentioned. He’d be sure to stay far away from that.

  The conversation continued to build on desired activities, people debating what should be a required group event or divided personal time. Frith’s attention started shifting to more important matters. I’ll grab a notebook, hole up in the study, and organize everything out.

  People started leaving the movie theater, apparently some conclusion reached. Frith continued to linger. It was easier to be the last one out.

  Florin Daniels also loitered at the back of the group. Once they were alone again, the redhead said gently, “It’s a vacation, so no one should force you into anything. If you want to join us in a few things, I think you might have more fun, maybe even make better memories. But, that’s not for me to say. See you around, Holiday.”

  Suddenly, all caution abandoned him. “Wait, Florin Daniels.” He hoped his words and tone hid the jolt of panic. “I have a request of you.” He stared deep into Florin’s eyes, steeling himself. It’s now or never…