He grins at me. “Yes, please.”
I start to close the door but he says, “Hey, wait.” He leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Feel better, yeah?”
I float back to bed and drink electrolyte water like it’s a love potion. Lauren returns a few minutes later with Dramamine.
“They said it might make you sleepy,” she says, handing me two pills.
“Already am.”
“Good.” She closes the blackout blinds. “Go back to bed.”
I drift off immediately and sleep, hard, for so many hours that when Lauren pokes me awake, I have no idea if it’s the middle of the afternoon or the middle of the night.
“Hopie?” she whispers. “Are you alive?”
“What time is it?” I ask.
“One thirty. Our spa appointment is in half an hour. Are you still up for it?”
A massage sounds perfect after crouching over the toilet all night.
“Yeah. Can you open the curtains?”
She does, and the afternoon light hits me like an assault.
“Gah!” I yell. “You’re blinding me!’
“You told me to!”
She takes the huge black sunglasses she has clipped to her coverup and tosses them to me. I put them on and gulp down some water.
A wave of hunger hits me, unwelcome and terrifying.
“I’m scared to even ask this,” I say, “but do we have any food?”
“I grabbed you some muffins and an apple at lunch.”
I nearly gag at the thought of apples.
“I’ll take a muffin.”
She brings it to me on a plate, and I eat it in bed. She snaps a picture of me with her phone.
“Hey!” I protest. “What are you doing?”
“Capturing your vibe. You’re giving glamorous 1970s invalid.”
She shows me the photo. In it a woman with big, tousled hair wearing a turquoise caftan and oversized sunglasses dines off fine china in a fluffy white bed.
“Very Princess Margaret,” Lauren says. “Can I post it?”
“No.”
She texts it to me instead.
We gather bathing suits and reading material and head upstairs to the spa. We’re greeted by a lovely smell—a combination of lavender, rosemary, eucalyptus, and sea salt. The lobby’s at the bow of the ship on the top deck, with floor-to-ceiling windows. It has the best views of the ocean I’ve seen yet. I peer out distrustfully. The waters are so blue and placid that it’s shocking they were fierce enough to make me violently ill last night.
“Welcome to the Coral Spa, ladies,” the receptionist says. “I’m pleased to let you know your treatments have been upgraded on the house to the full Mermaid Package, with our compliments.”
