Yasmin Sullivan - Love on the High Seas

They both laughed.

“Did you ever actually aspire to medical school?” he asked.

“No, I was always more arts than sciences.”

“I guess I was always more sciences than arts. I had to work in English, and I mean work.”

They both laughed again. Angelina wanted to tell him about her writing, but something stopped her. It was personal, as personal as sex, and as usual, she held back. After last night, maybe she didn’t need to. But the moment had passed.

After drying off in the sun, they caught the safari back to the ship. They had lunch, but after that, reason got the better of her. She hadn’t gotten much work done yet, so she begged off. He had dinner plans with his boys, so they decided to meet afterward. She could pick the activity.

She showered, rinsed out her sister’s swimsuit and spent the afternoon at the table in her room working on the syllabus for one of her classes and making notes for her paper on World War II political activism by Black women in Harlem.

Around six o’clock, she grabbed a sandwich and then camped out on the balcony with the Patterman book. After several chapters, though, she brought her laptop out to work on her creative writing.

That’s what she was doing when Jeremy called at a quarter of eight.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Dress comfortably, and meet me at the elevator on my side on the ninth deck.”

“What are we doing?”

“You’ll see.”

She already had on her jeans and a loose top, so she pulled on her sneakers, grabbed her room key, and headed out. She had picked the perfect activity for them.

He stepped off the elevator in casual slacks and a shirt.

“What are we doing?” he asked, seeing her mischievous grin.

“Skating.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No. They have an inline skating rink.”

“Okay, but I don’t actually know how to Rollerblade.”

“Neither do I.”

They both laughed. They rented skates and had a hilarious time learning how to use them. At first, they held on to each other for support but only managed to topple each other over in the effort, giggling like kids. More than once Angelina found herself cushioned by Jeremy’s body—horizontal on the floor. And to her dismay, getting up in skates was much harder than falling down.

Once they managed to stay upright and get themselves parallel to one another, they locked hands and took slow, tentative glides—a foot or two to begin. In an hour or so, they were becoming rather proficient.

“I wonder,” Angelina said, “if they’d let us skate through one of the gardens.”

“We can stand,” Jeremy said, considering it. “But we’d still be a public menace.”

They both laughed.

“Okay, then that has to be next,” she said. “That or window shopping.”

“I think the stores are closed now.”

“That’s why it’s just window shopping.”

They laughed again.

Next they headed to the Admiral’s Arbor, one of the gardens. Both were surprised by how big it was. They held hands and wandered between the flowerbeds and hedge work. Then they found a bench with an ocean view and rested for a bit, their legs sore from skating.

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