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“What?”

“Get you laid,” he said.

“Was that not already on the agenda?” I asked with a grin.

“And he’s back, ladies and gentlemen! Another round of drinks for my friend here. We’re celebrating the next leg of our adventure together.”

The bar couldn’t have cared less, but I was excited. I didn’t know what seeing Chanel was going to bring, but I knew one thing for sure.

This would be the perfect way to clean my slate and start all over.

Chapter 3

Chanel

Ana and I drove to the port and stayed over-night in a hotel near the site. I wanted to get there a day early, so I could get some pictures. I wasn’t a professional photographer by any means, but Ana did have a fun idea for my blog. I could take pictures and document the cruise with everyone from my high school years. I could make it an opinion piece on the psychological dichotomy people experience in high school when they feel like those are the best years of their lives. I was going to give my own testimony of high school, complete with Rhett’s and my disaster story, and then juxtapose it with pictures of how everyone was doing.

With their permission, of course.

I was going to title it “When You Think the Best Is Over.” The moral of this week-long saga would be living proof that high school doesn’t always harbor the best. I was going to make a point that it was easy to glamorize it when looking back on it, but that doesn’t mean it was the best. I wanted to show people that life could be enjoyed during all stages, even when getting together only to reminisce about the past.

I announced it on my blog to get a feel for its audience, and I had thousands of people flood my comments section saying they couldn’t wait.

But now, I was nervous. Friday had come around, and we were preparing to board, and my eyes couldn’t stop scanning the crowd. I saw a lot of people I remembered. Our class president and the captain of the cheerleading squad stood near the ship. I followed her line of sight and saw the quarterback of our football team already grinding up on someone. Ana’s arm was linked with mine as my camera hung around my neck, ready to snap pictures.

“ID and tickets, please.”

Ana and I pulled out everything we needed before we could board. We were handed a sheet of paper of the island excursions we could take once we docked at all the ports we were set to dock at. Ana was giggling and squealing, ready for a good time as we wheeled our shit behind us.

But my eyes were still scanning the crowd, looking for Rhett.

“Come on. Let’s get to our rooms,” Ana said.

Before we could get to our rooms, we were stopped by Connie, the class president.

“Oh, my gosh. I am so glad you guys are here.”

“Hey there, Connie,” Ana said. “How are you?”

“I am so g

ood. I’m shocked at the turnout for this cruise! Are you guys? Anyway, Chanel. You are, like, royalty to our class right now. I follow your blog like crazy! I’m so excited you’re doing a piece on the cruise.”

“I announced that last night,” I said.

“Oh, I subscribe. I know when you post.”

“Creepy,” Ana said, under her breath.

“Anyway, I sent out a little blast to the RSVP list online. I told everyone about the fun little thing you’re doing, and most of them are up for it. A few haven’t responded, but you can take pictures whenever you want and check it against that list for permission. I thought that might make it a little easier,” Connie said.

“Thanks. I think,” I said.

“So, here are your itineraries,” Connie said.

“We have schedules?” Ana asked.

“Oh, yes. It’s not a hard schedule, but we have certain meetups throughout the week for all of us to get together. Isn’t that fun? Tonight there’s a dinner for all of us to hang out and talk and catch up. I rented us out one of the entire ballrooms. You’re welcome,” Connie said.

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