Rachel

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WEEKS LATER, I SNAPPED a few final pictures of the SS World Odyssey as I disembarked for the last time. I made sure to capture several shots of the rock wall that I often climbed alone, the towering decks that I walked every morning, and the part of the ship I was certain to miss most. The stern where I spent most of my down time sipping coffee and writing letters to “friends” who hardly ever wrote back.

Tucking my camera into my bag, I let up my umbrella and walked to the luggage holding area. I pushed my way through all the teary-eyed reunions and found my two suitcases. One for the romance books, one for the clothes.

I pulled out my phone and saw what I hadn’t seen for more than minutes at a time in over three years. Actual bars for cell phone service.

I scrolled down to my father’s name and hit call, hoping like hell he wouldn’t answer.

“Rachel?” He crushed my hopes after one ring. “Rachel, you’re back today?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. For some reason, I thought it was tomorrow.”

Because I told you it was tomorrow. “Well, no. I just got off the ship, and I’m about to catch a cab to my apartment for the fall. I can send you the address when I get there.”

“Well, if you want to wait twenty minutes or so, me and Stella can come and get you. It looks like it’s about to storm.”

“No, that’s okay.” My stomach churned at the mention of his second wife’s name. “I’ll get a cab and hit you up later.”

“Okay, well...” He paused. “I’m so glad you’re back home safe, and I’ve enjoyed the correspondence and pictures that you frequently sent home. I also appreciate you using the ship’s phone to call me every other Sunday. It almost feels like you never left.” He was quiet again. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, Dad.” I ended the call, feeling a familiar ache in my chest. Whenever the two of us spoke, the words “I love you” always rang hollow, and I always felt like something was missing.

As the soft drizzle became a downpour, I made my way to the taxi platform and waved down the first yellow car.

“Where to, Miss?” The driver opened the back door for me before placing my luggage into the trunk. 

“235 Beach Tree Cove.”

He nodded and sped off onto the street.

As he drove, I stared out the window and took in all the things I truly missed about this town. The open-air cafes that lined Main Street, the boutique hotels and carnival pier that sat on the tourists’ side of the beach, and the white sand that stretched along the entire side of our town’s beautiful coast. Even in the pouring rain, the town was perfectly picturesque, and I couldn’t wait to explore it all over again in the sunlight.

Half an hour later, the cab stopped in front of 235 Beach Tree Cove, and I double checked to make sure the address was correct. I gave the driver a tip for rolling my luggage to the front door, and the second he drove away, I rang the doorbell.

No answer.

I rang it again.

No answer, again.

Confused, I knocked on the door as hard as I could.

It immediately swung open, and I found myself face to face with Meredith Green, a girl I’d shared a voyage with the previous semester.

“Rachel Dawson?” She smiled. “I can’t believe you’re finally off the ship! What the heck are you doing here?”

“I’m living here, remember?” I handed her an olive branch that I’d preserved from Greece. “I sent you a letter in the mail and told you I was willing to be your roommate. I can get the deposit money from my dad tomorrow.”

“Huh?” She looked confused, but she opened the door. “I never got a letter from you, Rach. I swear. And I already have a roommate.” She scratched her head. “Why didn’t you send me an email or hit me up on Facebook?”

I resisted the urge to groan. It never ceased to amaze me how quickly some people (some of the very people who’d experienced Semester at Sea) forgot that the ship didn’t have Wi-Fi, and from what I remembered, she spent the first five days of her voyage crying about not having access to Facebook.

Before I could give her the nicer version of my thoughts, she laughed.

“Oh, duh!” She hit her forehead with her palm. “No Wi-Fi and no Facebook. I’m so glad I’m off that goddamn thing. I had to wait four whole months to share my pictures online, and I felt like I was going to die. Let’s see if I can find your letter.”

I followed her into the living room, looking around at the piles of clothes and trash bags that covered every inch of the floor.

“Is today a laundry day?” I asked.

“Ha! No, I haven’t gotten around to cleaning since I moved in. I’ll have to do it after classes start next week.”

A blue-eyed Siamese cat purred and sat atop her high pile of bras, and I followed her into the kitchen.

She opened a cabinet under the sink, and I squinted at the rusty roach and rat traps that were sitting under the pipes. At the dying beetle that was waving its legs as a final sign of life.

“I have so much unopened mail,” Meredith said, pulling out two grocery bags full of envelopes. “There are credit card applications, bills, and the IRS keeps sending me the same Urgent Tax Notice envelope month after month.”

“Um.” I cleared my throat. “You may want to open the ones from the IRS sooner than later.”

“Eh.” She shrugged. “It just gets so overwhelming. If someone wants me to read something, I don’t get why they can’t just send an email. The IRS can do the same, you know?”

“Yeah...” I noticed ants crawling across her countertop. They were making a line toward crumbs of Fruit Loops cereal. “My letter should be in a purple envelope.”

“Well, that makes this a lot easier.” She dumped the mail bags onto her other counter and pulled out two of my stationery envelopes.

“Wow!” She stared at them for several seconds. “These are really pretty!”

“Thank you.”

“I honestly can’t believe you took time to write me something!” She smiled and walked over to her tea kettle, ignoring the line of ants. “I’ve never gotten a letter from a friend in the real mail before. I want to make sure I savor it properly.”

“You want some tea?” she asked, pulling down two cups.

“I’d love some.”

She handed me one with a tea bag and I nearly gagged. There was a ring of yellow crust and a dead ant on the inside of it.

When the water boiled, she filled our cups and sat on the counter. Then she opened my letter and read it aloud as if I wasn’t already aware of what it said.

Dear Meredith,

Happy Birthday from the SS World Odyssey! I hope you’re having a great time on land, and I hope you have a few strong shots in honor of your special day!

With Love & Sails,

Rachel Dawson

“Awww!” She smiled and tore open the second one.

Dear Meredith,

I hope this letter finds you well! I’m writing you because as you know, the Wi-Fi on the ship is nonexistent and I wanted to make sure I reached out long before the fall semester begins. You mentioned needing a roommate before you left, and I’d love to be the one! I can pay for the first two months’ rent and the security deposit at the rate you mentioned the second I return this fall.

Write back and save my room,

Rachel Dawson

“Aw!” She stared at the letter. “Your handwriting is so pretty, Rachel. I wish I could write like this. Anyway, I’m sorry I can’t help you with a place this semester. Then again, you could’ve tried sending an email when you got to a port city, and maybe I would’ve been able to hold a spot for you.”

I bit my tongue. This conversation wasn’t worth it, and from the looks of her apartment, I was certain we wouldn’t mesh well as roommates anyway.

Why is she STILL ignoring all those ants?

“Here’s something that might help you out,” she said, handing me a copy of the student newspaper. “This is the edition that just came out. Tons of people are still looking for roommates for the semester, so maybe you’ll have luck finding a place to stay that way. Oh, and don’t forget Craigslist.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay on my couch for a few nights if you like.” She walked over to her couch and pulled a pair of panties from the cushions. “Let me get it cleaned up for you first.”

I forced myself to smile and nod. Then I watched as she pulled a used condom from under a throw pillow, so I immediately flipped the paper open.

There’s no way in hell I’m staying here tonight.

The “Roommate Wanted” ads were listed in alphabetical order by their street names, and from what I could tell, the monthly rental prices were less than half of what Meredith previously quoted me.

“Okay, I may have to spray this couch before you sleep on it,” she said, making me look up at her. “Looks like a few ants are still enjoying my Snicker bites from last week, but they’re just ants. I’ll make sure they’re dead and vacuumed in no time.”

She left the room before I could respond, and I pulled out my phone to call a new cab.

I looked over the ads one more time and noticed a beautiful photo ad for a house that was several streets away from the main campus. The house was huge and absolutely stunning with its sandy colored shutters and private deck that let out onto the beach.

Is that a pool on the roof?

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301 Rose Bay Avenue. Two male college students seeking roommate in a luxury beach home. (Yes. That’s a POOL on our roof, bitches!)

Hot tub, pool, game room, and plenty of space for you to study (or not, if you’re a senior like me) You will have your own bathroom & your own furnished bedroom with an oceanfront view.

MALE NONSMOKER HIGHLY PREFERRED

Text Greg Charleston III at 555-8718 for more info + tour

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I LOOKED AT THE AD again, frowning at the “preferred” line in the description, but I saved the contact information in my phone anyway.

“Hey Rach, will you put that paper down and come help me with the couch?” Meredith stepped out with a bottle of bleach and a hand-vac. “Turns out, all these bugs aren’t ants...”