Overboard (2 page)

Opening the sliding glass door, she stepped out into
the balcony. Seeing the marina fading into the horizon, a feeling
of tranquility washed over her. She was leaving behind St.
Augustine and all of her stressors along with it. It was time for
her to rest and digest before her yearly stint as a counselor.

Feeling the breeze whipping around her tresses
softly, Brenna felt more at ease. She momentarily closed her eyes.
Inhaling the salty air, she exhaled her breath slowly, feeling the
tension lift from her body.

Wanting nothing more than to curl up in her bed, she
stepped into her suite and closed the glass door behind her. It was
then she heard the moan...

Brenna spun on her heel and fearfully looked about
the suite. With her heart beating hard within her chest, she
recalled that she was isolated from the others. She knew all the
other rooms in the corridor were vacant. Taking a few cautious
steps forward, she approached the door of her suite and turned the
knob slowly. With increasing trepidation, she stepped into the hall
and quickly realized she was alone.

“Hello?” she called, her voice bouncing off the walls
of the empty hall.

A muffled cry broke the silent and still
corridor.

Brenna’s head shot to a neighboring suite. Taking
small, hesitant steps, she knocked on the door of suite 304. When
she was not met with a reply, she tried the knob, and to her
surprise, the door was unlocked. “Hello?” she called into the
darkened room.

“Brenna?” a small voice questioned.

Recognizing the voice, Brenna darted into the room,
struggling to see through the darkness. Her eyes focused on the
figure that reclined on the bed in a fetal position. “Chelsea?”

“Yeah,” she whimpered.

Walking over to the windows, Brenna pushed aside the
heavy curtains, allowing the sunlight to pour into Chelsea’s room.
“What are you doing in bed? Get up! I want to introduce you to all
my friends,” she told Chelsea, approaching her bed.

“I can’t!” Chelsea cried. “I am so sorry, Bren. I
just feel so sick...”

Standing over Chelsea, Brenna inspected her friend
and instantly realized she was not exaggerating. Chelsea looked
horrible. She appeared disheveled and her skin was paler than
usual, taking on an ashen appearance. Her eyes lacked the ability
to focus, and her eyelids appeared heavy as if it took a great
effort for her to open them.

“How? Do you have the flu?”

“I think I am seasick,” she replied, cradling
herself. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

“How? We just left port!” Brenna covered her friend
with a warm quilt. “I wanted you to meet my friends today, but it
can wait until tomorrow. Just get some rest and you’ll feel better
in the morning,” she reassured her.

Chelsea nodded. “I hope so.”

* * * * *

The next day, Chelsea’s health had not improved. She
could barely hold any food down and her seasickness had kept
Chelsea isolated from all the festivities. Brenna felt bad about
leaving Chelsea, but she made Brenna promise to have fun for her
and Brenna intended to do just that.

By the time Brenna reached the dining hall, the rest
of her friends had already begun eating their breakfast.

Feeling calm and relaxed, Brenna stood by the buffet,
filling her plate with eggs and bacon. Before taking her seat, she
poured herself a mug full of coffee, sensing that caffeine would be
necessary to get through the rest of her day. “Good morning,” she
greeted, her voice bouncing off the walls of the nearly vacant
dining room.

“Good morning, Bren,” Marissa greeted back, smiling.
She was already wearing her bathing suit, appearing ready for a day
of lounging about the deck.

Seated next to Marissa, Dylan looked up from his
plate and glanced at Brenna, appearing disinterested. He was still
dressed in his sweat pants and white tee. His hair was sticking up,
and his eyes were still heavy from sleep. “Mornin’,” he muttered,
taking a sip of his orange juice.

Brenna rolled her eyes, taking her seat. “Good
morning, Dylan. I didn’t see you yesterday. Nice to know you’re
alive,” she said sarcastically, glaring at him.

“I saw you last night at dinner,” he said
quietly.

He knew that was not what she meant. Dylan hadn’t
spent any time with her since they set sail. When she left Chelsea
and found the others lounging at the pool, she decided to join
them. Rather than hold a conversation, Dylan immediately launched
himself into the deep end and swam laps. At dinner, he was quiet
and only responded to direct questions with one word answers.
Brenna felt neglected. It was almost as if he was avoiding any
interaction with her altogether.

Ignoring Dylan’s bad mood, Brenna looked over at
Orman who had his head in his hands, covering his handsome face.
“What’s up, Orman?” she asked with a teasing quality to her voice.
“You look like you just snuck into your parents’ wine cellar and
drank every bottle while you were there.”

Across the table, Orman looked up momentarily,
glancing at Brenna with his glazed over eyes. “Close... I got into
the bar in the dance club downstairs,” he said with a slow smile.
“I’m still hung over.”

Orman always blushed when he smiled which was quite
endearing. All the girls at school chased after him and it wasn’t
just because his father had money. He wasn’t bad to look at. His
skin was fair, and his hair was sandy. He was awkward as if
uncomfortable in his own skin, but at the same time, he wasn’t
insecure. There was something handsome about Orman. It could have
been his blue eyes which seemed to be as bright as Caribbean
waters. It could have been his tall and lean physique. Orman wasn’t
mysterious looking like Dylan, but he had other qualities which
made him irresistible to the opposite sex.

“What fun is a vacation if you are too drunk to
remember it?” Marissa asked, glaring at Orman.

Orman looked at her as if she were an idiot. “Maybe,
I
don’t
want to remember anything. My best memories are the
ones I can’t remember.”

Marissa scoffed. “I don’t know what I ever saw in
you! You are such an
idiot
sometimes.”

He laughed her off. “You
know
you love me,” he
told her, taking a sip of a cocktail which cures hangovers that he
whipped up before she arrived. Orman never took Marissa seriously
which was yet another of their downfalls.

Brenna smiled to herself, recalling Marissa’s
short-lived romance with Orman. It was a disaster from the
beginning. They fought constantly. Brenna always got the impression
that Marissa wanted a certain lifestyle more than she wanted Orman.
He must have gotten that impression as well. They parted ways
quietly after only a few weeks of dating.

“Where’s your friend? Is she still under the
weather?” Marissa asked.

Before answering, Brenna took a sip of her coffee.
“She is still seasick, but I am hoping she improves enough to have
dinner with us later.”

“Let’s hope,” Marissa said with mock enthusiasm.

“Marissa,” Orman warned, flashing a look of
disapproval her way.

Looking up from her plate, Brenna stared at Marissa
while analyzing her comment. She knew Marissa was a bit jealous of
her friendship with Chelsea, but she hoped that she could put aside
her insecurities and give Chelsea a chance. “Where is Hallie?” she
asked, directing her question to no one in particular.

Hallie Seymour was the missing link to complete their
clique. Hallie was pretty and petite just like Brenna. Her dark
skin was like milk chocolate and her eyes were hazel. Everything
about Hallie was so warm and inviting.

Brenna hadn’t talked to Hallie in a long while. She
had changed since last summer. Hallie had been outgoing and fun. No
matter where they were, Brenna knew she was going to have fun if
Hallie was there. Now, she was withdrawn and quiet. Still, Brenna
loved her and wanted their friendship to be as it was.

Marissa shot Dylan an awkward glance and said, “I
don’t know. She must still be asleep.”

“I haven’t seen her in a long time,” Brenna
commented, feeling depressed. “I hope we can spend some time
together.”

Appearing annoyed, Orman looked from Marissa to
Dylan. “Look, Brenna... I don’t think Hallie is ready to
allow
herself to have fun.”

“Why not?” she asked, confused. “Is she mad at me?
Did I do something?”

“No,” Orman said adamantly. “She just has some things
she had to deal with on her own.”

Brenna nodded. “I don’t know what else to do,” she
told them. “She has just changed since last summer and all I want
is for things to be as they were.”

Marissa rolled her eyes. “She lost her sister. She
lost Morgan, Bren,” she said furiously, misdirecting her anger at
Brenna. “Not everyone can bounce back from that as well as you
can.”

Brenna stared at Marissa in disbelief. She was taken
aback by how her
friend
was acting. Marissa had just
exploded. “Morgan was my friend, too. I miss her everyday. But you
can’t stop living, because someone is dead.”

“I can’t believe you are so cold,” Marissa told her
as tears welled up in her eyes. “All you care about is your
precious
scholarship and your boyfriend. How many times have
we hung out since last summer, huh? Once... Maybe, twice. You are
so wrapped up in what Dylan is doing you can’t see that your friend
is hurting.”

“Stop,” Orman said forcefully, glaring at Marissa.
“Enough!”

“Do you know I haven’t seen you cry once,” she
continued, obviously in pain. “Your other best friend died and you
acted like it was just another day. What is wrong with you,
Brenna?”

“Noth―nothing is wrong... with me,” Brenna responded,
feeling overwhelmed and stumbling over her words. She glanced at
Dylan to see if he would speak up and defend her, but he just shot
his hands up.

“I can’t take this,” he said and got up from the
table, walking out of the dining hall.

Marissa followed Dylan’s cue and walked out without
another word.

Brenna could feel tears welling up in her eyes. Once
the first tear escaped, it was hard for her to stop crying. “What
do I do, Orman? How do I make things right?”

Orman put his hand over hers in a rare moment of
compassion. “Talk to Hallie,” he said softly, rubbing her hand
gently. “She just needs to hear that you understand what she is
going through.”

* * * * *

Brenna stood outside Hallie’s door, contemplating
whether or not to knock on the door. All kinds of emotions went
through her as she stood in the hall. She wondered if Hallie was
ready to see her. She wondered if she was ready to see Hallie.
Would there be tears? Would they argue? Working up the courage
within herself, she raised her hand and knocked softly three
times.

Within seconds, Hallie opened up the door to her
suite. She greeted Brenna politely, but her face was not one of
happiness to see an old friend. Her hazel eyes lacked the sparkle
that Brenna loved so much, and she narrowed them when she gazed
upon her. She appeared to be bothered by Brenna’s sudden appearance
although she invited her inside her room. The happy-go-lucky
demeanor that Hallie was known for had vanished. Instead, Hallie
looked like another person who was weighed down by the burdens of
the world.

Hallie’s room was similar to Brenna’s, but lacked the
balcony that Brenna’s suite had. She made her way to the seating
area and made herself comfortable. “I just came to say ‘hi’ and see
how you were doing,” Brenna said in an effort to break the
silence.

“I’m fine,” Hallie said, taking a seat on the sofa
beside Brenna.

Brenna looked at her friend skeptically. “Hallie, we
haven’t spoken in months, and I just feel like you’ve been avoiding
me,” she said, trying to be more empathetic to Hallie’s feelings.
“Am I wrong?”

“No,” she told her without any signs of
hesitation.

“Why? Why have you been avoiding me?” Brenna
questioned without taking a breath. “What have I ever done to
you?”

Hallie met her eyes. “My sister is dead.”

Brenna sat silent for a moment. “I know she is dead,”
she responded in a small voice. “We all loved Morgan.”

“Did you love her, Brenna?”

“Of course, I did,” she retorted, outraged that her
sentiments would even be questioned.

“You didn’t come to the funeral. You didn’t even send
a card,” Hallie stated. “What am I supposed to think?”

“You don’t have to think anything,” she said
defensively. “I couldn’t deal so I just locked myself away. I
didn’t see anyone for months. See, I was just like you,
Hallie.”

“Oh,
you were
,” Hallie shot back
sarcastically.

“Yes,” Brenna continued. “I was mad at the world. I
spent months avoiding those I cared about, because I was afraid
that they could see my pain. But I couldn’t spend my life that way
and you can’t either. With time, you will come to understand that
Morgan’s death was an accident... and there is nothing we can do
for her now.”

Hallie looked at Brenna as if evaluating her for a
moment. “You are just too quick to call my sister’s death an
accident...”

“Wasn’t it?” Brenna asked, dumbfounded. “The papers
said that she fell, hit her head and fell off the rowboat into the
lake. I know I read that.”

“What was my sister doing on a rowboat in the middle
of the lake?” Hallie asked suspiciously, arching her brow.

“I―I don’t know exactly,” she stammered, feeling
frazzled.

“Come on, Brenna! You know something,” Hallie cried,
balling her hands into fists and pounding her lap. “You were her
best friend, and you’re telling me you didn’t know what she was
doing there! I don’t believe that! Was it to meet a boy? Was she
fighting with anyone? Any camp counselor?”