Page 3 of Overboard


  “Will you tell me what is going on?” Hallie asked, shouting.

  “I heard something. I thought Marissa might have gotten hurt,” Brenna said, gazing at the balcony doors which were open.

  The breeze was causing the curtains to billow which gave Brenna an eerie feeling. Walking towards them, Brenna inspected the balcony through the doors. When she found that nothing was out of place, she slid them closed.

  “I heard a scream,” she said, talking more to herself than Hallie.

  “Oh, please! She was probably getting it on with―” Hallie started, but closed her mouth abruptly.

  “With who?” Brenna questioned, turning to face her.

  Hallie averted her gaze guiltily.

  “With who? Answer me right now!” she screamed, almost frantic.

  Hallie looked her in the eyes once more. “With Dylan. It’s no secret they’ve been hanging out closely since we boarded this ship. I saw them the other day, standing close to each other... and whispering about something. Something is obviously going on between them.”

  “Dylan has changed, and I know Marissa’s a flirt, but they would never betray me,” Brenna said, feeling her blood begin to boil.

  “It’s not like Dylan has the best track record,” Hallie said sarcastically.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Hallie placed her hand on her hip, obviously annoyed. “Don’t play dumb, Brenna,” she said. “You know Dylan and Morgan had something going on.”

  “He never dated Morgan,” Brenna said, balling her fists at her side.

  “Is that what he told you?” Hallie asked in a belittling tone. “Well, that is not what Morgan told me. They had something going on before he dumped her. He may even have been dating the two of you at the same time. So, believe what you want.”

  Fuming, Brenna could feel her face grow hot as her cheeks flushed. She wanted to punch Hallie in the face, but she had to find out if there was any truth to her words.

  Without further hesitation, she marched passed Hallie and down the hall to the staircase. She flew up the stairs to the first level, and walked towards the bow of the ship where Dylan’s room was. Standing outside of suite 152, Brenna lifted her fist to the door and pounded on it with all of her might.

  Dylan opened the door to his suite just enough for Brenna to push through, barging into the room and looking through all the places a person could hide.

  “What’s going on?” he asked after nearly being squashed between the door and the wall.

  “Where’s Marissa?” Brenna asked furiously as her eyes darted around the suite.

  “What? I don’t know,” he said groggily, rubbing his eyes. He appeared as if he had been asleep when Brenna came knocking. His voice, which was usually deep and smooth, was now hoarse. His hair was sticking up messily, and his night clothes were wrinkled.

  Marching towards Dylan, she demanded, “Are you seeing her behind my back?”

  “No!” he said, his eyes opened wide with surprise. “What are you talking about?”

  “So, what is going on? You have been acting distant, and everywhere you go Marissa follows you like a lost puppy.”

  “She does not!” he shouted at her, obviously irritated by her accusations. “Where is all this coming from, Bren?”

  Brenna looked at him, trying to evaluate whether to punch him or believe him. “What have you been up to, Dylan?”

  “I’ve been preoccupied,” he said lamely. “I have a lot to think about.”

  “Like what?”

  “Why are you getting mad at me? I haven’t done anything wrong!”

  “I just want... the truth. I want to know what’s up with you. If you’re not with Marissa, are you with someone else? Are you going to break up with me?”

  “You’re obviously out of your mind, and I am too tired for this,” he told her, rubbing his temples as he walked to the door. Holding it open, he said, “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Right now, I’m going to bed.”

  Brenna could take a hint. She walked out of Dylan’s suite, feeling worse than when she had entered. The status of their relationship wasn’t clear, and Marissa was still nowhere to be found. She hoped everything would be clearer in the morning.

  Looking up, Brenna could make out Hallie’s silhouette in the hall, standing by the doors to the staircase. Maybe, there was something in her posture as she stood nonchalantly with her chin in the air, but Brenna got the impression that Hallie was pleased with the discord she had caused.

  * * * * *

  The next morning Brenna slept in. She wanted to avoid eating breakfast with the others. When she felt it was safe, she went down to the dining hall and helped herself to the buffet. The cook was serving chocolate chip pancakes which were to die for, but she couldn’t eat with her life in shambles. Dylan was neglecting her. Hallie was mad at her. Marissa thought she was insensitive. What else could go wrong?

  “Good morning.”

  Brenna was jolted out of her thoughts as Chelsea joined her at the table. She had a small helping of pancakes on her plate and a cup of coffee.

  Gazing at Brenna thoughtfully, Chelsea took a seat beside her. “Didn’t you hear me the first time? I greeted you when I first came in, but you didn’t seem to hear me.”

  “I have a lot on my mind,” Brenna admitted, mashing the pancakes on her plate with her fork.

  “Like what?”

  “Dylan and I had a fight last night.”

  “Oh, no,” Chelsea said, appearing concerned. “What happened?”

  “Something stupid,” Brenna said, shaking her head at her behavior. “I let Hallie manipulate me into arguing with him. I listened to her lies, but it will never happen again.”

  Chelsea nodded. “Make sure it doesn’t. Or else, I will have to step in, and that... might get ugly.”

  There was enough steel in Chelsea’s voice to make Brenna shiver. “I’ve got it covered,” she said, feeling suddenly fearful. She excused herself from the table and left the dining hall in a hurry.

  As she made her way to the reception area, she wondered if she should pay a visit to Marissa, but an incredible need to see Dylan came over her. Stopping at the large lobby, Brenna tried to think of where Dylan would be. She thought he could be in the dance hall, running through all the liquor the bar had to offer with Orman. However, Dylan wasn’t much of a rule breaker so she knew that searching for him there would be a waste of time. There was an arcade by the lobby, but she knew he wouldn’t be found there. Dylan never wasted his time with video games. The pool, she thought, knowing he would prefer to be outdoors.

  Making her way to the deck, she thought of what she would say to him. Did he even want to talk to her at that point? She didn’t care. She had to know where they stood in their relationship.

  When she finally reached the deck, she breathed in the salty sea air and gazed at the deep blue horizon. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the feeling of the sun warming her skin made her feel at ease.

  Making her way to the pool, she found Dylan exactly where she thought he would be. He was lounging by the water, sitting on a side chair with his feet up on a rattan ottoman. However, he was not alone. He was having a heated discussion with Hallie. She was showing him a file full of papers, pointing out important tidbits.

  Staring at them intently, Brenna was too far away to hear the conversation although she did try. As soon as Dylan noticed her approach, he stopped talking in mid-sentence.

  He glared at Brenna momentarily before telling Hallie their conversation was over.

  Outraged, Hallie rose to her feet in a huff and stomped away without acknowledging Brenna’s presence.

  “She is in a good mood,” Brenna commented sarcastically, watching Hallie until she was out of sight.

  “You upset her last night,” he replied, appearing irritated. “What do you want?”

  “I just want to talk,” she said calmly, taking a seat in Hallie’s abandoned chair. “I wanted to tell you personally that I am
sorry. I should have known better than to listen to Hallie, but... I didn’t. It was almost like she wanted me to fight with you―”

  “Stop, Bren,” he said, cutting her off and appearing disgusted. “It is not her. It is you. Stop blaming other people for your actions.”

  “I’m not! I just―”

  “The truth is you haven’t been the same since last summer, and I am tired of waiting for things to go back to the way they were.”

  Jumping to her feet, she glared at him. “What are you saying?”

  “I need a break,” Dylan said coldly.

  “A break?” Brenna repeated in shock, feeling a hole in her chest as if something had been ripped out of her. Then her mind began to reel, and she began to spout out questions without a breath. “Is it because of Marissa? Or Hallie? Or whatever happened with Morgan?”

  “No,” he answered, shaking his head. “I knew this trip was going to be a disaster, and it has been one thing after another with you. I am tired of the drama. We need a break, and then maybe the old Brenna will come back.”

  Dylan didn’t wait for Brenna to respond. He put his hands up to silence her and walked away, leaving her standing alone.

  “I thought you had it all handled.”

  Surprised, Brenna turned to see Chelsea. She didn’t realize that she was standing right behind her. Feeling bothered by her friend’s presence, she asked, “What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”

  Chelsea smiled wryly. “I didn’t sneak up on you. You were just so lost in thought you didn’t hear me.”

  Glaring, Brenna crossed her arms in front of her.

  “I thought you said you had it covered.”

  “I did,” Brenna said, unwilling to admit that things were not as under control as she had hoped.

  “Is that why Dylan stormed out of here like he couldn’t stand to be around you anymore?”

  Embarrassed, Brenna averted her gaze, choosing to stare down at the ground than look at Chelsea again. “I―,” she stared to speak, but she could not summon the right words to quiet Chelsea.

  Chelsea leaned forward and whispered, “If you ask me, all this... is one person’s fault.”

  “Marissa’s,” Brenna concluded, trying to follow Chelsea’s lead.

  “Yes! You heard Hallie... Marissa has been after Dylan since you got on the ship.”

  Brenna nodded, recalling how Marissa didn’t want her to look for Dylan when she arrived on the boat. She remembered how Marissa had stomped out of the dining hall after Dylan. She recalled how Marissa told her not to forget that they were friends as if preparing her for a betrayal.

  “So, what are you going to do about it?”

  “I am... going to confront her,” Brenna answered hesitantly, feeling unsure over whether she was about to do the right thing. “I am going to ask her what is really happening... with Dylan.”

  “Good,” Chelsea said, smiling sadistically.

  Brenna smiled back although she wasn’t exactly sure why.

  * * * * *

  Brenna pounded on the suite door. She wondered if Marissa was awake since she hadn’t seen her all morning. When Marissa didn’t answer the door, Brenna concluded she must have had a bad hangover. She was about to walk away when she heard Chelsea’s voice in her head, telling her to stand up to Marissa.

  She reached for the knob and turned it. The door opened with a click and Brenna stepped inside. “Marissa?”

  Brenna stepped further into the suite, realizing the curtains were pulled tightly closed and blocking out the light. Walking over to the sliding glass doors, Brenna pulled back the curtains, bathing the suite in light. “Get up, Marissa,” Brenna said as she began to whirl around to face the bed. It took her a few seconds for her brain to register that the bed was empty. As her eyes wandered the room, she realized nothing had changed since the night before. Everything was exactly as it was....

  She couldn’t stop this nagging feeling creeping up in the back of her mind. Although the room was neat and tidy, something was off. Something was wrong. Marissa was nowhere to be found.

  Brenna stared out of the glass doors, debating over what to do. Should she tell the others that something was wrong? Would they agree? Would they think she was crazy? What about the loud thump that came from Marissa’s suite the night before?

  Overwhelmed, she began to sob. She had known Marissa all her life, and she wouldn’t be able to bear it if something had happened to her.

  Brenna shook herself, feeling foolish. What if she was just overreacting? What if Marissa was somewhere on the boat having fun?

  Wiping her eyes, Brenna eyes caught something on the deck. She opened the glass door to get a better view of the thing which glinted in the sunlight. She bent over and picked up a flimsy, silver charm bracelet that was lodged between the wooden boards.

  Picking it up to inspect it, she gasped, feeling her heart quicken. Brenna knew the bracelet well. She had given it to Marissa for her eleventh birthday. She never took it off.

  Brenna held up the charm bracelet in the sunlight, making out a single blond hair that was entwined in the links. Inspecting the bracelet, she was able to see that it had been broken. It seemed to have rusted. Her eyes opened wide when she realized that silver doesn’t rust, but blood does!

  “Brenna?” Orman called from inside the suite.

  In her surprise, she dropped the bracelet and it slid across the deck.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, joining her on the balcony.

  “Something is wrong, Orman,” Brenna told him frantically, picking up the bracelet before it slid off of the edge of the balcony. “Marissa didn’t sleep in her room. I haven’t seen her since yesterday, and now, I just found her bracelet!”

  Putting his hands up in a gesture of mock defense, Orman appeared bewildered. “Calm down, Brenna. What are you talking about?”

  Holding it securely in her grasp, she held up the bracelet to his face. “Look at it!”

  He cupped his hand and Brenna placed the bracelet in his hand. He inspected carefully, running his thumb over the dried blood which was caked in between the links.

  “We have to report this,” Brenna said hysterically. “We have to call the National Guard! Marissa could have hit her head. She could have fallen overboard! Or someone could have done something to her.”

  Orman grabbed Brenna’s shoulders and forced her to look at him in his eyes. “Don’t be stupid. Listen to me,” Orman said sternly, shaking her slightly back to her senses. “Are you listening?”

  Brenna nodded, looking up at him fearfully.

  “We have to get rid of this bracelet,” he said without an ounce of hesitation.

  “No,” Brenna said, shacking her head in confusion. “There was blood on her bracelet! The bracelet was broken as if there had been a struggle. We have to report this!”

  Orman shook his head. “Listen to me! This bracelet could hurt us. We have to get rid of it,” he said calmly. He let Brenna go and stood closer to the railing, looking over the edge at the ship’s wake. “The deck must have been slippery. She could have easily fallen, hit her head and went over the rail. That would explain the blood. Understand?”

  Sobbing, Brenna nodded.

  “We know nothing. We will search the ship for her, but if she is gone, no one is to blame,” he said before he tossed the bracelet into the ocean.

  Wiping her tears, Brenna stood silent, watching the symbol of her life long friendship slip underneath the waves.

  * * * * *

  Brenna went to her room, standing before the sliding glass doors and looking out into the horizon in a state of shock. She didn’t remember the journey there, but when she reached her destination, she quickly came to her senses.

  She had so many questions. Orman said he would answer them all once he staged a search for Marissa and called the Coast Guard. Yet, Brenna had no concept of the time that had passed, and every minute that passed dragged on like an eternity.

  She was shaking.


  Surely, there would be an investigation, and everyone on board would be deemed a suspect. Yet, Orman’s plan made sense. It was totally plausible that Marissa could have slipped and hit her head, causing her to lose consciousness which then led to her falling overboard. Such an idea, once implanted into the mind, seemed quite believable. However, Brenna couldn’t stop the nagging feeling which was gnawing away at her.

  “Did you see Marissa?”

  Brenna jumped and spun around. She breathed a sigh of relief when she laid eyes on Chelsea. Confused, Brenna glanced at her suite door and saw it ajar. “How did you get in? I thought I had locked it.”

  “Did you really think a cheap lock could keep me away?” Chelsea asked with a dry laugh. “Did you see Marissa when you went to her suite?”

  Brenna shook her head violently. “No,” she said nervously.

  “No?” Chelsea questioned, appearing confused.

  “No,” Brenna confirmed. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, she asked, “Why did you come here?”

  Chelsea smiled broadly. “I was thinking... about how you assumed Marissa was the cause of all of your problems?”

  Brenna looked upon her skeptically, wondering what she was going to say next. “Vaguely.”

  “Well, it may not have been her,” she announced, talking casual steps closer to Brenna. “I was thinking... about how it was really Hallie that made you fight with Dylan last night. It was Hallie he was with by the pool this morning, showing him those mysterious papers. Could they have been evidence of something? Love letters or something like that.”

  Brenna contemplated her words.

  “I think we should find out what is in that file.”

  “And how do you suppose we do that?” Brenna inquired.

  Chelsea smiled deviously. “You go to her room and look through it.”

  “And what about you?”

  “Brenna, don’t worry about me. I will be your lookout.”

  Brenna shook her head. “Orman wants me to wait right here for him.”

  “Orman is searching the ship with everyone else,” she said with a wink. “He’ll never have to know.”

  * * * * *

  While the others searched the boat for Marissa, Brenna seized the opportunity to enter Hallie’s suite. She searched all the normal places that she suspected Hallie would hide something valuable. She looked through a chest of drawers, but there was nothing to be found except some neatly folded clothes.