Authoress's Notes: Yes. It's late. In fact, it's beyond late. It's verging on being considerably … 'overdue'. I don't have any good excuses. Except that I lost my chapter plan and was too lazy to write another one. (Scratch that last part. Never. Happened.) Without further delay – the Love Boat, chapter two.
Chapter Two: "In The Calm Before The Storm"
"Would you guys watch this?" Daniel Gray was balancing a full sized apple pie in his right hand, which he held out over the top of one of the cafeteria-style tables in the crew mess hall. "Kloppman wants me to go mop up the stupid kitchen." His friends, seated around their usual table, were staring up at the pie with amusement.
"Sure, we'll watch it for you," Adair Cimino, sitting just to Daniel's left was saying, her head bobbing emphatically. "Just stick it on the table." Her bright grin was both innocent and full of energy as she moved her tray of food over to make room for his pie. Her eyes caught Skittery's, who was sitting across the table, and leering back at her.
"Put down the pie, Pie." The often moody teen had brightened, as he eyed the dessert hungrily. "We'll take good care of it."
Pie Eater grinned brightly, despite being known for eating an entire pie every day for lunch, he was somehow able to maintain exceptionally white teeth, and an athletic build. "Thanks guys – just watch it, okay? Don't let it get knocked off the table or anything." Not only were his homemade pies renowned for being delicious, but the fact that he managed to make one every single day was awe-inspiring. It was clear to every one that Pie Eater just loved to bake – even if was a little too trusting with pies.
Having put his lunch down, he disappeared into the kitchen.
A short silence descended on the five remaining at the table – Skittery, Adair, Alec, Swifty and Snoddy, who was doing his best to revitalize the conversation, while wiping his characteristically runny nose on a paper napkin. "So, uh, did every one have a good flight out here? I did, except for a little turbulence coming in over – "
"You can cut the act, you whore," Skittery directed at him, wiping spaghetti sauce off of his fork. "He's gone. It's ours."
Alec – known as Bumlets for a reason he rarely disclosed – rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's not do go through all this again. Remember what happened last year?"
"The 'Great Cream Pie Fight' of '05," Adair's eyes were practically glowing as she thought back to the huge food fight that had started in the crew mess, resulting in double duty for the entire teenaged crew – the straight-laced Ruse included. "And only one rule, too - no eating, just throwing!" Not that she had necessarily abided by this direction, unable to resist chowing down on an exceptionally sugary chocolate cream pie.
"You oughta know, Cheater."
The act had been another allusion as to why her nickname was so appropriate.
"Who cares about that?" Skittery wasn't known for being the nicest of the crew members, skittish? Yes. Jittery? Sure. A little bit of a flirt? Why not? Nice? Well, being polite and agreeable was not exactly at the top of his list. "Come on? Don't you guys get it? He put the pie down on the table. He walked away. To me, it looks like he just gave us a pie." With his now clean fork, he stabbed straight into the center of the dessert, grinning ruthlessly down at the hole he left in the dough. "I say we dig in."
"Come on, Skitts, we don't –" Bumlets was ignored as Skittery leaned back to announce to those in the mess that if they wanted free pie, all they needed was a fork. This proclamation earned him a reproachful look from his friend. "One of these days, Pie Eater's going to ram one of his pie's straight up your – "
"Guys, come on! Stop it!" Cheater had to throw herself completely across the table to stop Skittery from attacking Bumlets, and still only managed to catch a hold of his shirt sleeve. It took the combined efforts of herself and Swifty to restrain him properly.
"What is this?" Swifty – who's nickname was earned for the ability to play the piano at rapid fire, and not for the common misconception of his speed in general – glowered sourly at the two. "Pie asked us to watch his pie, not eat it. Or did you simply forget that part?"
"Well, I'm watching Snoddy stuff it in his fat face, if that counts for anything."
Those sitting at the table who weren't interested in finishing off Pie Eater's lunch, turned to stare at Snoddy in disgust as he steadily finished off a solid quarter of the pie. Taking this moment to jerk his arm out of Swifty's hold, Skittery joined his friend, loudly commenting on how good the pie was.
Bumlets couldn't take any more. His daily quota of 'Skittery' had been filled, and he wasn't going to sit and listen to his friend whine, complain or put down any more. Something had gotten Skittery into a bad mood – which wasn't exactly challenging – and now he was intolerable. Not to mention whatever had made Snoddy get in on it, maybe his allergy medicines were playing with his head again. Whatever it was, Bumlets wasn't going to stick around to find out. "I'm out of here. You guys are sick."
"Don't be so sore, Bummers," Skittery called after him. "If it were pumpkin, you know you'd be digging in right now." He had to raise his voice to be heard now, as those at other tables who'd seen the original exchange began to mutter about it to each other. "You know it, Bumlets! You'd be digging in, too!"
On the other side of the room, the occupants of table number two were having a lewd discussion about why Buttons Lee had such a hang up on Itey – a topic which the Italian was quickly getting sick of.
"Think it's 'cause of his extremely –"
"Okay. Enough. Stop, stop – "
"Wait, wait – Buttons is still hung up on him?" The speaker had just entered the mess hall, and plopped down into a seat between Miguel Meyers and Louis Ballat, seemingly unaware of the youth that was trailing him. "She hasn't figured out that our Itey's a wuss?"
Itey was hard pressed to choose between scowling and breaking into a grin. Alexander Durecht, known as Dutchy for the same reason that the Italian was 'Itey', had finally shown up for work. "Where have you been? First you call in to say you're going to be here early, then you call in to say you'll be late – and here you are in between! What's up with you?"
Dutchy laughed, grabbing a french fry from Caleb Riley's lunch tray. "What's up with me?"
"Woah – you know you've got a shadow, Dutch?"
The blond blinked, looking at his eye patched friend quizzically. "I've got a what?"
The teen who had uncomfortably taken up place behind him, stared stiffly down at the group through wire-rimmed glasses. "He said you've got a shadow, Alex. And he's referring to me."
"Oh. Oh, right." As if just remembering himself, Dutchy stood and motioned to his 'shadow' – receiving bemused expressions from his friends. "This is my cousin, Mark – "
" – Spencer – " His cousin interrupted, rolling his eyes. He'd heard that mistake too many times to keep count, and Alex's indifference to the corrections was beginning to grate thoroughly on his nerves.
" – Spencer, sure." It was obvious that Dutchy wasn't paying attention, "He's supposed to be staying with us for the summer. My Oma thought he'd have more fun here." Customary introductions over, Alex promptly forgot his cousin again, as he sat back down in his seat to be bombarded with questions about his grandmother. Dutchy's Oma was notorious for performing feats not usually attempted by people her age, and this year she'd taken up ice climbing.
"Hey, Spencer, you can take a seat, y'know." Miguel Meyers – known as Mush for his oatmeal-like coloring – motioned for the rigid teen to sit down in the empty chair next to his.
"Uh, thanks." He took the offered seat, and found himself examining the two guys on either side. To his right was Hull, who's name he learned as Dutchy was taking more of his french fries, to his left was the youth who'd told him to sit. "So, you guys work here every summer?"
Mush was nodding excitedly between sips of Coke, "Yeah. It's great, you get paid to hang out in the middle of the ocean. It's the greatest thing. The greatest part is how you – " Spencer found himself starting to tune out, paying attention only long enough to count how many times the word 'great' was repeated. There was five… six… seven. "Spencer?"
"Oh, huh?"
"That was the bell," Hull supplied, rising from his seat and grabbing his tray. "Means you have to go to your section head."
"Right." A quick look at the retreating group confirmed Spencer's fears – he'd been left on his own. Again.
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"Girls – girls, please." Medda Larkson tossed her hands up in the air in defeat. Practically throwing herself into one of the seats in the Café Theatre, she scowled at the group of giggling females that she was once again enlisted into working with – not to mention the one boy who consistently joined her theatre group.
She wasn't entirely sure why Miguel Meyers would subject himself to the mockery of being the only boy in a group of girls, but he didn't seem to have any problem with it. Medda herself loved Mush, he was attentive, polite, and a damn good singer – but best of all was the fact that he didn't gossip. Or worse, giggle.
"It's just so good to be back!" Audrey Brown was bouncing on the balls of her feet in the little huddle of friends that had gathered on the Café Theatre's stage. All four – Willow, Dodger, Cheater and Taps – had known each other for years as only fellow actresses can. "Final exams just seemed to drag on and on."
"Good to be back?" Dodger was incredulous – she had been living aboard the Princess year-round for almost half a decade. "Sometimes I just wish I could get off this floating tin can."
Willow took up a mock-shocked expression, "How dare you refer to her as a tin can. Clearly, she's not made of tin."
"Anyway, I'm glad to be here," the Australian murmured, gazing around at her circle of friends happily. "Maybe I'll have a chance this year."
"Oh, with who?"
She laughed, stepping away from Cheater, who was advancing with a determined expression on her face. "You know very well who. He didn't bring his girl friend this year, at least."
"Lucy? That slut. She didn't even do anything, just hung off of him all the time."
"Yeah," Audrey looked at her feet. Images of the beautiful blond dancing with Racetrack at crew parties, sitting practically on top of him during meals, and locking lips with him on the deck were memories of a much sadder time for Taps. "But I have a feeling that this year, things'll be different…"
Closing Comments: I'm so, so sorry about the lateness of this. But right now, I'm going to forget about that part, and talk about what I do need to say. I know not every one is in this chapter. There is a good reason; those of you who are coming to be crew in the teen programme (more or less every one else) will debut next chapter. Promise. Every one who is an experienced crew member has shown up in this chapter, with the exception of Eli, because I honestly didn't have a spot for her yet. (So she'll appear next, too, although she should have been in this chapter.)
Thanks all of you for your patience!
(Oh, and Lucy is in reference to Max Casella's girl friend, Lucy Boryer from back when he was on the set of Newsies. I don't know anything about her, except that she was what I just said. I don't really think she's a slut, and I'm not a 100 sure she's blonde, either… Oh well.)