In Over Her Head (7 page)

And This Is Why I Will Never Ever Eat a Breakfast Sandwich Ever Again!

Y
esterday
was amazing, beyond amazing, epic amazing, stupendous amazing! The highlight, as you probably guessed, was the
Titanic
scene with A.J.

I just can't overstate how perfect it was, how perfect A.J. was. He was his old self again, only better. It was magic.

Today is dive day, for real this time. The captain told us yesterday that even though the conditions won't be perfect today, they'd be good enough. Then he started droning on about deadlines and schedules and blah, blah, blah. After a while, I lost interest and stopped listening. He was probably just lecturing us on the importance of being prompt, for the thousandth time. Which reminds me — I've got to get moving because I know the cameras will be rolling first thing.

I look at my phone. Phew! It's 5:55 a.m. That means I didn't sleep through any of my alarms (I set several just in case). It also means that I have enough time to grab a shower, get dressed, dry my hair, eat breakfast, and make it to our meeting spot the required fifteen minutes early so I won't be late.

The bathroom, aka the head, is across the hallway from my room. I share it with Piper and a couple of female crew members, so there is always a possibility of a lineup. Luckily, today Piper is on her way out of the shower when I arrive, and no one else is waiting.

“Hi, Hannah. All ready for dive day?” Piper asks, sounding surprisingly cheery.

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, the shower's all yours.”

“Great! Um … thanks.”

“Oh, wait!” she reaches in and taps a control panel on the wall. “It's a heat lamp. Now you'll be toasty warm when you come out.”

“Gee, thanks,” I say, wondering why she's suddenly treating me like her
BFF
.

“You're gonna love it!” She winks. “Oh, and Hannah, I wouldn't wear those wrist thing-a-ma-bobbies in the shower if I were you. You don't want to get them wet, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Good idea.”

She grins. “Us girls have to stick together.”

“Yeah, we do.” I say, feeling an annoying pang of guilt stab at my heart. “Hey, Piper …”

“Yes?”

“Um … I'm sorry about yesterday.”

“What for?”

“Well, I knew you really wanted to do that scene again with A.J.”

She shrugs. “What scene?”

“Uh … the
Titanic
scene.”

“Oh, Hannah, you worry too much. You guys looked great together.”

“Really? I thought you'd be …”

“Angry?” She laughs. “Don't be silly.”

“Oh …”

Piper smirks, cocking her head to the side. “You thought I had a thing for A.J.?”

I nod.

“That's funny. I mean,
he
might have a little crush on me, but then most guys do, right?”

“Um … yeah … I'm sure they must.” I nod.

“Well, enjoy your shower, and I'm glad to see you're feeling
so
much better.”

“Thanks. I am, too.” I smile.

“Oh, and Hannah, one more thing. You looked like you were kind of zoning out at the meeting last night so I'm not sure if you caught it. We need to be in uniform for the morning meeting.”

“Oh my gosh! I totally missed that,” I admit.

Piper giggles. “I thought you did.”

“Well, thanks!”

“No problem.” She winks again. “See you at breakfast!”

Okay, that was just weird. Hmmm … what is she up to now?

Time check: Crap! I'm already five minutes behind.

I jump in the shower (that has a built-in stereo system!) and crank the volume. I'm about to turn on the faucet when I notice my wristbands, so I yank them off and chuck them out the door and onto the counter. Halfway through my shower I notice the coolest thing — a dial marked “steam.” I turn it, and within minutes, I'm in my own little personal steam room. I throw a clean hand towel on the built-in bench and take a seat … this is the life! I totally need one of these at home. Perfect stress reliever!

All of a sudden, it hits me. The time! How long have I been in here? How many songs have I listened to? Six, maybe? Great! I'm probably late again! I turn off the shower and steam, and jump out onto the warm floor. I feel the heat radiating down from the lamp overhead and suddenly, oh no … I'm woozy — hopefully, I'm just a little overheated from the steam … hopefully.

“Hannah, are you done in there?” I hear Val call from the hallway.

“I'm just about to get dressed.”

She laughs. “Well, shake a leg. I need to get in there sometime this century.”

“Sorry.” I pull on my robe, push my feet into my slippers, and whip my hair up into a towel. “Anybody else out there?” I say, peeking out the door.

“Nope, just me, patiently waiting.”

“Sorry!” I cry, smiling guiltily as I dart past her in the hall.

Back in my room, the wooziness only gets worse. This bites! I really thought those wristbands were working! I look down at my arms, which are bare. Well, that explains it! I run back across the hall and pound on the door.

“Val! Are you decent?”

“Yup! Just plucking my eyebrows.”

“Can you throw out my wristbands?”

“What wristbands?” she calls back.

“They're on that little shelf in front of the mirror.”

“I don't see them.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, they're not here.”

“Well maybe they fell on the floor. Could you check?” I yell.

“Hannah, come in and see for yourself,” Val says, opening the door. “They're not here.”

I do a quick scan of the bathroom, and then check the pockets of my robe again, just in case — empty. “I just don't understand it. Where could they be?”

“Hannah, sweetie, my schedule is really tight this morning,” Val says, pleadingly. “I don't want to be rude, but I've got to get into the shower.”

“Oh, sorry,” I reply, wondering why she'd waste time plucking her eyebrows when she's in such a hurry.

Reluctantly, I give up on my search, head back to my room, and somehow manage to get dressed and do my hair in record time. (We're all on a tight schedule this morning.)

This seriously blows! I woke up excited this morning; like really, genuinely, looking forward to finally doing this thing for real! I can't miss another shoot. It would look totally unprofessional!

I glance at my reflection in the mirror, and I'm as pale as a ghost. Oh gawd! I look like I have the flu. How am I going to make it through breakfast?

Massimo's face breaks into a huge grin when he sees me. “Good morning,
bella
!”

“Good morning, Massimo.” I smile weakly.

“Today is a big day so I have prepared for you my Massimo breakfast special!”

“Massimo breakfast special?”

“You have not heard of it? It is famous!”

“Um … I don't think so.”

“Ahhh … no matter!” He waves his hand dismissively. “Words cannot describe. You need to taste!”

“Massimo, I … um …”

Before I can protest, the Massimo Breakfast Special is in front of me — a massive egg-and-sausage breakfast sandwich, oozing with cheese, slimy fried onions, and something green, which may or may not be avocado. Massimo beams with pride, his eyes wide with anticipation as he waits for me to take a bite.

Henry, who was in the middle of wolfing down his first sandwich when I came in, wastes no time diving in to a second, and is oohing and ahhing with every bite.

Massimo claps his hands and laughs. “A masterpiece, no?”

“Massimo, I reckon you've outdone yourself!” Henry says, happily popping a final dripping bite into his mouth.

“Henry,” I say, passing him a napkin, “you have … um … some egg yolk on your chin.” So gross!

Henry grabs the napkin and wipes off the disgusting egg yolk. “Ah gee, thanks, Han!”

“No problem,” I reply, my stomach lurching.

“Dig in!” Henry points at my sandwich.

“I'm not that hungry.”

Massimo frowns at me. “Hannah, my dear. You must eat.”

No … I must not eat! I must get out of here!

“Massimo … I …”

“I hope everyone is fuelling up with healthy food this morning!” Captain Steele bellows as he comes into the galley.

Why is his voice so loud?
He seriously scares the crap out of me every time he opens his mouth.

Massimo holds up the captain's special teacup. “Coffee, Captain?”