Page 14 of Head First
‘Ah,’ she says, upon reading my name, ‘you’re the two marine biologists.’
I smile and nod proudly. Angry suntan man shoots me an incredibly surprised look.Ha!I think, before my brain reminds me that I am not, in fact, a marine biologist. And that as a fellow marine biologist, angry suntan man will be very confused as to why he had to help me procure reef-friendly sunscreen.Dammit.
My stomach flips when I realise the repercussions of what Vanessa said. If angry suntan man is a marine biologist . . . he’s Hugh. The man who just took me to buy sunscreen is Hugh Harris.No, I think quickly,he can’t be Hugh. The universe can’t possibly have made this trip even more complicated.
Plus, Hugh is . . . I think back to our DMs . . . back to what Millie has told me about him . . . he’s snarky and haughty and an insufferable know-it-all. I push down my next thought: angry suntan man is all of those things too.
Vanessa opens her mouth to say something else, perhaps formally introduce us, but before she can another two people come aboard. The first one up the ladder is lugging a massive black container that looks so heavy duty it could have come straight off a military cargo plane. I recognise the container first, racking my brain for why it’s familiar.
‘My camera,’ the man explains breathlessly to us, gesturing to the massive box. It dawns on me as his partner scales up the ladder behind him.
The scarf lady from the airport and her partner are on my boat.
I press myself into my seat hoping to disappear completely. I fumble for my sunglasses and slide them onto my face.She won’t remember my name, I reassure myself.She won’t hate me for taking her first-class seat. She won’t notice that I’m now going by Millie. For the first time in my life, I’m thankful for how unremarkable I look. Dark curly hair and light eyes, full cheeks, average height. There are a million people that look like me. Plus, I switched into my jean shorts at the airport, so I’m not even wearing the same outfit.
She doesn’t appear to have changed and is now sporting the silk scarf stylishly knotted around her neck, somehow not looking like she just walked off a flight. Her companion is slightly bent over, panting, and she edges around him to perch on the edge of a bench in the shade. She gives the group of us a little wave, and I notice as her gaze lingers on angry suntan man. Then her gaze passes to me, and I sink further back into my seat just as her companion fumbles with his box and it thuds to the floor.
‘Shit!’ he exclaims loudly. Angry suntan man rises from his seats to lend a hand, but the man waves him away. Vanessa sternly lets him know that the captain’s room is no place for his camera. Following Vanessa’s instructions, he fumbles his camera down the stairs to stow it below deck. I think about the little black waterproof camera Millie gave me.What could possibly be in this guy’s box?
When he appears back on deck, our dive group is finally all together. Camera man and the scarf lady, the two lovebirds across the way, angry suntan man, and me.
The couple across from me finish their paperwork right when Vanessa bounds back up the stairs. I wait while they hand her their clipboards and then force myself to spring into action the way that Millie would. Typically, I would introduce myself last, I’m not the most overeager socialiser. But Millie would want to chat immediately, and being friendly with everyone will help me when I eventually ask them to keep an eye out for the butterfly wrasse. ‘The more eyes watching, the better,’ Millie drilled into me before I left.
‘I’m Millie,’ I announce, jumping up from my chair.
‘Hello! I’m Pippa,’ the girl says with an easy grin. She has a soft British accent and seems kind. I like her immediately. ‘This is my boyfriend,’ she announces, turning to the man next to her.
‘Andrew,’ he says. He has a deep voice and a strong stance, like he’s preparing to captain the boat in an emergency. I flash them both the biggest grin I can muster.
Their attention turns towards angry suntan man. He is looking right at us, his mouth in a thin line, but his eyes are obscured by his sunglasses.
Andrew sticks out his hand. ‘Hey, mate, I’m Andrew.’
Hugh’s expression shifts, losing its surliness. He looks peaceful and happy . . . almost friendly. I watch his shoulder muscles ripple under his T-shirt as he stands up. I notice his eyes have gone from greyish to a brighter, more cerulean blue.
‘Hugh,’ he says, as he extends his hand to shake theirs. He smiles an easy, wide, slightly crooked smile that he certainly never gave to me.
My stomach drops.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Pippa says, voicing my exact thought. ‘I didn’t quite catch that?’
‘Hugh,’ he repeats, louder and more clearly.
I’m glad he’s looking at Pippa and Andrew because my mouth is hanging open. If I’m honest with myself, I suspected he was Hugh from the moment I read his backpack. But I didn’twanthim to be Hugh. I don’tneedanother complication. I was hoping if I pretended he wasn’t Hugh then he could just end up being some guy borrowing his friend’s backpack. But if he is Hugh Harris then where are his glasses? Doesn’t he wear glasses? And why didn’t Millie tell me he wasthiscute?
Hugh Harris, the man hell-bent on proving Millie wrong, is on my only opportunity to prove her right.
When is he going to realise that I’m Millie Paxton?
What if he realises that I’m really Andi Paxton?
What if scarf lady remembers that I go by Andi?
If Hugh gets so much as a whiff of trouble, he’ll see right through me. And he already witnessed my sunscreen debacle.
My heart is racing, so I take a deep breath and channel Millie. I cannot screw this up for her.
Finding the butterfly wrasse is all that matters.
