Caribbean Crossroads Read Online Free PDF Page A

I’m Chalise.” A curvy girl with dark hair slicked back like a Spanish dancer stuck out her hand and gave Megan’s a quick squeeze. “Listen, don’t mind Tag.”
    It took Megan a second. “Oh, him. I feel so bad. I think he must be sporting some serious bruises by now.”
    She laughed. “You’re fine. He tends to take things just a bit seriously, especially on the stage. He’s looking for a big gig this year—had a couple of offers for the fall if things go well here, sooo—”
    “—give him a lot of room and make him look good.”
    “You got it.” She looked back at the center performers. “And I think I’m your roomie, officially. With Jillian—you know her, right?”
    “Yeah, we’ve been roommates at NCU in Nevada. I think we have a fourth but I’m not sure who.”
    “Oh, that’s her, right over there, the one dancing with Bryant.” Megan followed her gaze.
    No.                                                 
    “Her name’s Brittany Shay Weller.” Chalise turned back to her and spoke in a low tone. “Used to be tight with Bryant, so I don’t know how that’s gonna work out this year. Awkward,” she said in a sing-song voice.
    Brittany and Bryant?
    “What happened?” said Megan before she could retract it. She immediately tried to look bored.
    Chalise had turned back to the dancers. “I’m not sure, I was on another ship. All I know is that it got messy for a while. Jillian would know the details. But, by the look of it, they’ve kissed and made up.” She gasped. “Oh, I’m on.” Chalise hurried to her mark.
    Kissed and made up. What exactly did that mean? Well, they did make the perfect Barbie and Ken couple. But what did it matter, anyway?
    At the conclusion of several more exhausting rehearsal hours, the three girls changed before the dinner buffet closed.  
    “I’m starving, completely ravenous,” said Chalise, as she quickly finished powdering her face. Megan read a book on her lower bunk. She had showered first and simply pulled her wet straight chestnut hair back into a small ponytail holder.
    “Khaki pants and T-shirt again?” said Jillian, looking away from the mirror. “C’mon, Megs, you used to always look chic. How about a blouse? Borrow my turquoise one, you’ll look amazing.”
    Megan looked up from her book, smiled, and went back to reading.
    Jillian tisked at her and finished layering mascara. “As God as my witness, you will wear a skirt this summer.”
    “Thank you, Scarlett,” Megan said, still reading her book.
    “Come on, get something to show your legs a bit.”
    “No way.” Like she needed that. She was just fine with her basic khaki with T-shirt outfits—who was she here to impress? Suddenly a white smile and tanned face came to mind, looking down at her in the hallway, making her feel …
    No. She was here to work and get back to Being Megan. End of story.
    “Just the lower half, Megs, it’s not going kill you,” said Jillian, finishing her mascara. “You’re not sending the wrong message, but you’ll be about ten degrees cooler. And much more feminine, I might add.”
    “And this is important because?”
    “Well, you might want to be back into men someday.”
    “Please, we’re about to eat,” said Megan and turned the page. No need to let Jillian in on her flutter issues. That would only make her relentless in trying to stir up romantic waters.
    Jillian paused, capped the tube, and walked over to Megan. “You know, not every guy is like that.”
         Allowing the sincerity to stay, Megan nodded. Jillian had been there for her through most of the Jackson fiasco, which was likely why she was hadn’t yet forced on her a cruise list of datable guys. “I know,” said Megan. “There are still guys like Derek, after all, so I haven’t lost complete faith.” She hesitated then gave Jillian a meaningful look, grateful for how their friendship had deepened over the many years. “I