“I can’t!”
Emily paused with her hand on the knob. It was a plaintive, desperate cry, not a threatening one. The voice didn’t sound like Ali’s, either.
“W-why?” she stammered.
“Because I’m a stowaway!” the figure said. “I have nowhere else to go!”
Emily noticed a small, quilted makeup bag on the floor of the closet, illuminated by a thin strip of moonlight. Stitched on the side was the name Zora-Jean.
“My name is Jordan Richards,” the girl said. “I snuck on this boat because I had no money. I didn’t think it would actually work, but now I’m here, and I don’t have a room, and …”
Then she stepped into the moonlight. She had large green eyes, full lips, and thick, dark hair held back by a velvet headband. She wore a white eyelet dress and ballet flats with grosgrain trim.
Emily gasped. “You?”
“Me,” the girl answered, and then faintly smiled. Ghost Girl.
Emily sank down to her bed, trying to focus. “You snuck on the boat?” she repeated.
Ghost Girl—Jordan—nodded. “This morning. I wanted to come on the cruise, but my parents didn’t have the money.” She made a wry face. “Actually, they didn’t want to spend the money. We’re not exactly close.”
“Okay,” Emily said slowly. “How did you get on?”
Jordan leaned against the wall next to the closet. “There was so much confusion when everyone was checking in that I thought, What if I just walked on? Would anyone notice? So I did. But then the ship pulled away from the dock, and I panicked. I didn’t have my passport. I didn’t have any stuff. And I didn’t have a room to sleep in. I was screwed.”
“Don’t you know other people on the ship who could help you out?”
Jordan shook her head. “I just moved to the Philly area a few weeks ago, so I don’t really know anyone yet.”
“What school are you going to?” Emily asked.
“Ulster,” Jordan said, staring absently out the little circular porthole.
A crack formed in Emily’s brain when she looked at Z-J’s bag again. “You were the person stealing stuff from people’s rooms, right?”
Jordan looked sheepish. “A lot of people left their doors open while moving in,” she said. “It was easy to slip in and out of the rooms. That’s how I got into your room, too. I camped out here for a couple hours and took a nap.” She grabbed Z-J’s bag and a couple of other duffels from inside the closet. “Anyway, I’ll let you get some rest now. Sorry I freaked you out.”
“Wait!” Emily caught her arm before she could go. “D-do you want to stay here?”
Jordan froze, halfway standing. “For the night?”
“For … maybe longer than the night,” Emily blurted. “I have a feeling my roommate isn’t going to sleep here much. There’s a spare bed.”
Jordan squinted. “Why would you do that?”
Emily traced her finger over the threads on the comforter. She’d surprised herself by asking, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. She felt sorry for Jordan, definitely, but she was also lonely being in the room by herself. Besides, Emily found it almost impossible to take her eyes off Jordan’s high cheekbones, her kissable lips—in a platonic way, of course.
Her cheeks flushed, and she was suddenly afraid Jordan could read her thoughts. “We can’t have you sleeping on a chaise by the pool.” She patted the bed next to hers. “It’s yours if you want it.”
Jordan nodded slowly. “I’d love that, if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” Emily said, and then, because she thought it sounded buddy-buddy, added, “roomie.”
Jordan held her gaze. “Roomie,” she repeated, as if it were an antiquated word she’d never heard before. Then she stood up, walked toward Emily, and gave her a huge hug. “Thank you so much. This is wonderful.”
Emily remained as stiff as she could, though she wanted to bury her face in Jordan’s neck and inhale the sweet scent of her skin. “You’re welcome so much,” she said back.
But really, it was Jordan she should have been thanking.
6
SPENCER’S LAST-DITCH EFFORT
The following morning, Spencer and her roommate, Kirsten Cullen, stepped out of their room and started toward the elevators. The air smelled of lingering shampoo from people’s bathrooms; bacon, eggs, and coffee from the restaurant; and sunscreen. The turquoise sky and navy-blue sea loomed large out the huge windows at the end of the corridor, and the hallway walls were papered with flyers reminding everyone to sign up for the end-of-cruise talent show. Spencer made a mental note to sign up their hula routine later that day.