authors note;;

the following is slightly based off of past events. but it won't be exact and it's gonna actually have stuff happen and be cool and crap. yeah.

disclaimer;;

i don't own Fat Albert, Santa Claus, iCarly, the world's fattest priest, The Clique, Jenny, Nate, Serena, Gossip Girl, Coca Cola, Nordstrom's, any of these characters, or any form of a cruiseline.



chapter one



"Stop packing. I swear. Nobody will be able to close that luggage. Not even Fat Albert. Not even Santa Claus. Not even the worlds fattest priest from iCar – "

I throw one of my pairs of skinny jeans at Olivia's face so she'd stop talking. As much as she's my best friend, she's a bit of an airhead. Her blonde hair doesn't really help her much, either.

"I'm serious, Nic!" I give her the evil eye. I hate when she calls me Nic, or Nicole, or Nicolette, or Nicocacola. I like being called Nikki, and that's all.

Of course, Olivia's favorite thing next to talking is making fun of me. But it's not like I hate her for it or anything. She's my best friend. She's supposed to make fun of me.

"I packed so little in comparison to you. It's like your luggage is this giant soufflé of happiness and mine is a lonely little emo child." She sighs, finally taking in a breath after talking for probably an hour straight. "It's depressing."

I barely nod as I attempt to shove some more clothes into my suitcase. Correction, my third suitcase. For a week-long cruise. God, I'm hopeless. As much as Olivia is this blonde mess of hypertasticness and insanity, she's much less girly than I am and can pack much lighter than me.

It's so unfair. I should probably just pay Olivia to pack for me, but she'd just put in like candy or something. No clothes, just food. Like I said, she's not the sharpest crayon in the box.

"Nicole Alexandra Dalton!" Her navy blue eyes are wild now, and she dives for my suitcase. I attempt to fight her off. "Stop. Packing. I swear to God, you won't meet any boys there cause you'll be so busy trying to choose a cute outfit to show off your boobs to them."

"Oh my god, shut up!" I giggle-scream, pushing Olivia away. She does most of the talking normally, whereas I'm more into responding when it's completely necessary. Like when she cheers on Jenny for kissing Nate in Gossip Girl.

He's better with Serena, in my opinion. But Olivia is loud, bossy, and opinionated. And no one has lost a battle against her yet.

"All you need," she says through another deep breath – I swear, she probably has asthma or something, "is a toothbrush, a few jeans and t-shirts, a dress or two, sneakers, sandals, and flats. Not everything they have in stock at Nordstrom's."

She throws her tiny, muscular body across the whole of my suitcase, and then attempts to zip it closed. Which she does, miraculously.

Olivia will never cease to amaze me.

"Now, repeat after me," she instructs, looking up at me with her wide, blue eyes. "I will find a guy on the cruise."

I grunt at this, turning away. Ever since Cam Fisher, my ex, and I broke up, I haven't really been doing anything. I'm not over him. He was my world, and now he's sleeping with half the grade (probably).

"Fine," I sigh. "I will find a guy on the cruise."

"I will not fall completely in love with said guy. I will simply get to know him, possibly make out with him in a jacuzzi – "

"Liv!" I scream, cutting her off. She ignores me, of course, closing her eyes and holding up a hand.

"And then leave this cruise with memories of a fling, not a relationship, and no more sadness over Cam-moron Fisher," she finishes, opening her eyes.

"Revise the last bit for me," I plead. "I can't say his name without crying yet."

She rolls her eyes. Of course. Olivia doesn't do relationships. She likes fast flings with tons of fun and little heartbreak. But she gets me, I know she does. That's why we're friends.

"You're gonna have a fling, get over Cam, and have fun for once." She leans forward, places her hands on my shoulders, and kisses me on the cheek. "Trust me babe, you're gonna have the time of your life."