Hearts Overboard

Cruising the Inside Passage

I was going to kill Tanner.

Assuming I didn’t die of embarrassment first.

I was standing in front of hundreds of people, wishing I’d worn a longer dress. The outfit had seemed fine until I knew everyone was looking at my long legs, and now I was certain this garment had been designed for someone three inches shorter and why did fashion designers hate tall girls?

The other volunteer was waving to his family, who waved back enthusiastically.

My parents, and Tanner’s, were grinning like mad, looking as proud as if I’d discovered a new planet or set a world track record.

Special effects smoke drifted across the stage. It felt like every set of eyes in the room had laser vision. It was so hot. Were those normal stage lights or broilers? They were roasting me like those snails, in sweat instead of butter.

Why had I let Tanner volunteer me? I could have refused.

I didn’t fear public speaking when it was something like aclass presentation, a factual one that I’d studied for. But I hada recurring nightmare of being in front of an audience andI was supposed to talk, except my note cards were blank, I didn’t remember my topic, and I was wearing my Baby Yoda pajamas.

Despite the earlier suggestion to Tanner, I hated Pictionary. And charades and any game where I was in front of people unprepared. As a kid, if someone even mentioned those at a party, I’d hidden in the bathroom. Here, I was unprepared, with no idea what this magician guy was going to ask me to do. I definitely wasn’t letting him lock me in anything tight and dark. Or come near me with a saw. Did magicians still do that?

Tanner had his phone camera aimed at me. He shot me a thumbs-up. I fought the urge to flash him a different finger and set my jaw instead. This was marginally better than escargot, so I would prove to him that I was fine with it. Plus, if he filmed me, Caleb could see me being confident and cool onstage.

Well, as cool as you could be with a magician on a cruise ship.

Come to think of it, I didn’t know how much this would actually help.

“Go, Savannah,” Tanner yelled, and a few people—I was assuming my parents and their coworkers, but given the amount of alcohol being distributed, it could have been anyone—whooped.

Giovanni moved to my side. “I was going to ask our volunteers to introduce themselves, but I’m guessing you’re Savannah.”

“That’s me.”

“Where are you from, Savannah? Georgia?”

I forced a smile. I’d heard that one from Tanner, too. Along with Havana. And Montana. Did I mention he was fond of rhyming? “Los Angeles.”

“City of Angels! Excellent. And what about you, sir?”

While the magician learned Gary was from Portland, I glared at Tanner, who mouthed “Smile,” because a guy telling a girl to do that was guaranteed to end well.

“Are you ready?” Giovanni asked.

The lights dimmed. Dramatic music swelled again, accompanied by flashing lights.

That was a dumb question. Ready for what? How could a person possibly be ready when they had no idea what was about to happen? This guy needed a contract, laying out what was expected of us. Surely this wasn’t legal. I was a minor.

Giovanni picked up a top hat from the table, put it on his head, then let Gary examine it. He waved it around, then suddenly he was holding a fluffy white rabbit. Everyone clapped, and he gave the animal to Gary.

Okay, fine, I could handle bunnies.

Giovanni peered inside the hat, let me look. Then waved his hand, and this time he was holding a dove. He handed the bird to me. I cradled it between my palms. Its body was warm, the feathers soft and gray. It studied me with a beady eye.

The crowd cheered again.

Even being this close and knowing there was a logical explanation for his illusion, I had no idea where these creatures had come from. The dimensions of that hat did not allow for concealed animals.

“Shall I make them vanish?” Giovanni asked the audience, who yelled, “Yes!”

The dove squirmed. I tried to hold it tight enough that it couldn’t escape but not so tight that I hurt it and it ended up on someone’s dinner plate. Something was freaking it out, though. Wings fluttered against the cage of my hands. A pointy beak bit into my finger. I flinched.

Before I knew it, the dove was shooting out of my hands and fluttering across the stage.

Now I knew where the bird came from. Clearly it had emerged from a portal to an alternate dimension full of demons that Giovanni the Enchanter-Illusionist had sold his soul to access.

My heart was racing, but I couldn’t move. Should I move? Chase it?

The bird’s wings must have been partially clipped, because it wasn’t fully flying, but it managed to get semi-airborne. Thecreature was a gray blur, aiming for the edge of the stage. Then it flapped into the audience. I stared after it. My gaze found Tanner’s, wide-eyed and stunned. He jumped out of his seat.

With another flutter of wings, the bird aimed for Mr. Ramirez in the row in front of my parents. The demon bird landed on his head.

Tanner clambered past our moms, leaped over the row of seats between two people, to the row where Mr. Ramirez sat. He lunged for the bird, nearly tackling Mr. Ramirez like he was an opposing linebacker.

As the bird fluttered up again, it left a bright white trail on the shoulder of Mr. Ramirez’s black suit, and its wings mussed his dark hair. Tanner’s hands closed around the bird as surely as they caught footballs. He was practically in Mr. Ramirez’s lap.

Mom and Mrs. Woods could kiss that promotion goodbye.

I was still on the stage, under the bright, hot lights, unmoving. Were people staring at me or watching Tanner? He clutched the bird against him. It was perfectly calm now. Traitor.

Tanner climbed on stage and lifted his hands, which held the bird. The audience cheered.

“I guess this guy didn’t want to go back into the hat,” he said. “I can’t blame him. It’s dark in there.”

The people in the first few rows who could hear him laughed.

“Should I stay?” he asked me, quieter. “To help?”

“As long as that bird goes away, stay as long as you want,” I muttered.

The magician approached to take the bird from Tanner. “Thank you, young hero. This little lady has had enough excitement.”

Based on the tender look he gave the dove, he meant it, not me. He shot me an evil glare, like it was my fault his demon bird had bit me. Dude, try pet training classes, or exorcisms, instead of inflicting underfed, feathered monsters on innocent teenage girls.

Tanner bowed, took my hand, and stepped out as if to display me.

My face was on fire.

“Bow,” Tanner murmured.

I bent over partway, to more cheering, and let Tanner lead me off the stage. He kept my hand until we reached our seats.

My stomach churned as if I had eaten those snails. Or Tanner’s bird, which had been about the size of that dove. And now I really wanted to puke.

His hand brushed my arm, so lightly I might have imagined it. “Breathe, S’more. It’s over.”

I focused on inhaling and exhaling slowly. My face went from surface of the sun to, like, Mercury, and eventually cooled to Sahara Desert. I barely paid attention to the rest of the show or the magician, who kept giving me dirty looks, which I returned.

“I don’t think he’s all that enchanting,” Tanner muttered. “And his jacket is ugly.”

I snorted.

After a few minutes of watching in silence, an imaginary bird fluttering around inside my chest, I murmured, “Thank you.”

A brief bob of his head was the only indication he’d heardme.

I woke the next morning to my face. On the room’s television. The Cruise News morning show was playing, with updates from around the ship and information on today’s port, Ketchikan. And the current clip was from the magic show the night before, of me onstage in all my short-skirt glory, as frozen and grotesque as Han in carbonite. The camera followed the escaped bird, showed Tanner chasing it. Captured it pooping on Mr. Ramirez, and Tanner triumphantly catching it and marching to the stage, us taking bows, and him freeing me like he was my Leia.

It was horrifying, and yet I watched until the end.

“Make it stop,” I said, and buried my face under my pillow.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Mom said. “Breakfast is here.”

“I’m too sick to eat when my face is on there.” My voice came out muffled by the pillow. “Please tell me this is a special channel just for our room, and that two thousand guests are not currently watching a replay of last night.”

“I’m sure all two thousand passengers don’t use their televisions,” Mom said.

“And some are still sleeping,” Dad added.

“Ugh. Please make it go away.”

The room went silent and I removed the pillow from over my face. This was all Tanner’s fault.

Room service breakfast awaited so we could get off the ship nice and early for the day’s tour. Mom and Dad had ordered my usual toast, yogurt, and banana. Bless the cruise ship for having normal yogurt brands.

The open curtains revealed the view. It was early morning, and dark green hills were visible. Too bad I’d missed the captain navigating this massive ship into port without crashing. It would have been interesting to see. I needed to check the schedule for the next day and make sure to wake up in time.

I folded up my couch bed so we had more room to eat, and we removed silver domes from plates of eggs, bacon, and my toast and banana.

I spun my phone on the table next to my plate.

My mom eyed it.

“Grades are being posted later today,” I said.

I was glad we’d be on shore to have internet. I wasn’t nervous. I’d done well on finals, after studying with Caleb. I was mostly looking forward to comparing my grades to Tanner’s and hopefully beating him.

“You know they’ll be good,” Mom said. “You should wait until we get home to check. Don’t worry about it on vacation.”

Like that was going to happen.

I loved her. She was seriously a great mom, and she’d been my rock through the madness that was my bio dad. She’d always done her best to stick to schedules I liked and make me feel safe and give me alone time. And I hadn’t known until I was older how hard she’d fought to get full custody.

But some days I wondered how it was possible that we were related.

I exchanged an understanding look with my dad. He would also want to know as soon as possible and would have helped me sneak Wi-Fi access if today had been a sea day.

After eating and dressing, Dad and I assembled in the theater to await our tour. Mom and Mrs. Woods were planning to walk around town.

As we found seats, someone called out, “Hey, it’s Pigeon Girl.”

“Yeah, I saw you on TV,” said another person.

“You were hilarious,” said the first.

“I think it was a dove.”

“What?”

“Not a pigeon. A dove.”

“Fine, Bird Girl.”

“Where’s Bird Boy?”

“Do you know him? Are you dating?”

“That was so funny.”

I slumped into a seat. Returning to the scene of the crime bright and early the next day hadn’t been the best idea. Was Mr. Ramirez here? He’d been incredibly chill about the incident, waving off my many apologies after the show. But should I have offered to dry-clean that suit? Did cruise laundry cover magic show mishaps?

And why did strangers keep assuming Tanner and I were together?

Someone settled into the seat beside me.

“We’re famous” was how Tanner greeted me.

I could pretend he didn’t exist. That usually made him try harder to get my attention, but today, that might be good. If he was doing something ridiculous, people could talk about him instead of me. He probably loved videos of him playing on every screen in the entire ship.

He waved at the people who pointed at him, accepted fist bumps from some who passed our row.

“Come on, S’more. This is fun. We made people laugh. Isn’t that a good feeling?”

“Yeah, laugh at my misfortune.”

“Nah, at the situation. It was funny. They’re not mocking you. No one blames you.”

“The magician did.”

“Then he shouldn’t have given you a bird that was going to fly away. Forget him and focus on the fact that we brought people joy on their vacation.”

It was an interesting perspective. I’d always thought he did stunts because he liked the attention, but what if there was more to it than that?

“Aw, is that your boyfriend?” asked a woman passing by. “He saved you. It’s so sweet.”

“I did save you,” Tanner said, pretending to prop his chin on his fist as he smiled at me.

“You were also the one who volunteered me in the first place, so…”

The lady beamed, and Tanner chuckled.

A woman down front was calling groups one at a time. I simultaneously wanted to get to our number so we could leave and for her never to get there. No. That was wrong. I was maybe a teeny-tiny bit excited about our excursion. The excitement was just mixed with nerves, a churning soup inside me.

Why couldn’t I be happy about a day on shore, like everyone else?

Oh. Right. Because I had decided to announce a not-fully-formed plan to my nemesis, which had led to me signing up for something I hadn’t had a chance to research. Without proper research, you ended up believing the Earth was the center of the universe or yetis lived on Mars or Twinkies remained edible for decades.

When our number was called, we joined a line of people waiting to get off the ship, scanned our cards, and followed signs to our bus.

A cute town nestled at the base of the incredibly green mountains. An arching sign welcomed us to Ketchikan, Alaska’s first city. Other than the paved road and cars, it didn’t appear to have changed much since it was founded. Colorful wooden buildings made it feel like a frontier outpost, barely holding their own against the tree-covered hills.

Even though the ship was so large, it was nice to be on land again and to see real buildings and civilization, no matter how small.

Our bus held about twenty people. I took a window seat and pulled my dad into the one beside me, hoping he’d hide me from anyone else who might view my aviary misfortune as worthy of celebrating.

I buried myself in my phone. It was too early for grades, so I read Jordan’s messages and updates on her first day at work, during which she had met one boy who wouldn’t stop singing Frozen songs and a girl who knew way too many rap lyrics and had been dropped off by a cute older brother. Then I posted my photos from the last few days. I shared the drink picture withouttagging Tanner. Let people wonder who I was hanging out with in fancy music clubs. Maybe Caleb would see and wish it was him.

My phone chimed. Tanner had posted the Ping-Pong photo, tagging me. Hashtag champs.

Why was he so chill about letting everyone know he was hanging out with Moore the Bore?

I selected a few more to make the week look amazing—views from the Inside Passage, me in the fancy dress. If Tanner posted anything from the magician show, I would set a flock of rabid doves loose on him. They could be trained to attack, right? Pigeons delivered messages. Surely attack doves were possible.

He did tag me again, but it was the dancing picture. The first time I’d seen it, I hadn’t noticed Tanner’s face, but it drew my attention now. He was smiling down at me, a genuine grin with no hint of the slyness he usually wore when teasing me. The smile was like a shot of pure light and seared through my chest.

I hurried to click away.

To find an email from Mr. Lin, which sent a different tremor through me. He’d given me a link and an attachment with details about the physics and engineering program. I wasn’t sure I wanted to read it. I had enough new things to worry about today. But curiosity won.

The brochure included a list of facilities the group would tour. The names sent my heart skyrocketing. Top physics labs, engineering companies, NASA. A list of potential speakers for online seminars further increased my pulse. Bridge- and rocket-building competitions. Online discussion groups.

Despite the thrill stirring inside me, my hands shook. Multiple weekend trips in states I’d never considered visiting, a week in Boston, extra assignments that sounded intriguing but time-consuming. What would I miss or have to give up?

Eyes lingering on a spring visit to Houston, I closed the email. I’d think about it later.