Trapped in the Ocean (Trapped #1)

Prologue

Out of all of my adventures, falling in love with you was my favourite one.

♡ ♡ ♡

I blinked a couple of times for my eyes to get used to the darkness. Little by little, I began making out silhouettes moving to the rhythm of a song that, even though I believed I knew it, I couldn't pinpoint.

Dragging my feet back and forth —one of the many habits I had developed throughout the years— only meant one thing: I was feeling anxious. I didn't know why I was feeling like that, and neither did I know why I was sitting on a couch, in a place I couldn't recognise. I mean, it was a club—I knew that much. Now, what club it was... Well, I didn't have the slightest idea.

I seemed to be in the VIP sector. To be honest, I didn't understand why such sectors existed—were they created to differentiate between "popular people" and us, mere peasants?

Suddenly, I spotted what I thought to be a familiar fair head of hair.

"Julieta?" I shouted. It was the name of one of my best friends. The girl kept walking, unbothered.

"Ara?"

The greyish couch (dirt made it greyish, it wasn't originally grey) didn't have armrests so, when I jumped to the other side, scared, I almost fell. A grin appeared on Étienne's face as if it was the funniest thing in the world to see someone ending up on the floor, spread legged.

"Is everything alright?"

I pointed myself with my index finger. I wasn't sure that he was talking to me. Étienne and I did not speak to each other unless there was someone else present—for example, Julieta and Jaime, our mutual friends.

The grin on his face widened.

"Yes, I'm talking to you."

Since when did he talk to me?

He laughed. Did I just say that out loud?!

"Yes, you did say it out loud."

"Uh..."

"So, here's the drink you wanted." He placed two glasses in front of us, on the table that matched the colour of the couch (yes, the table was also grey). He sat next to me. "Was I gone for too long?"

"I actually don't know."

Laughing, he circled my shoulders with his arm. Oh, my God. OH. MY. GOD. I was five seconds away from really ending up on the floor. Why the hell did Étienne Dupont, the most perfect boy in the whole world, put his arm on my shoulders?!

"Are you feeling any better?" he asked.

I frowned. "Why are you asking that?"

"Because of that trip of yours..."

Oh, yeah. I was angry. No, no—scratch that. I was extremely furious —I almost had steam coming out of my ears like a locomotive— because my brother and his fiancée couldn't have come up with a better idea than to completely ruin my summer vacations. Ten months ago, my friends and I had organised an amazing trip to the beach but, one random day, André and Victoria showed up at home to announce that they were going to get married. On a freaking cruise. During a twenty-day trip.

Who even gets married on a cruise? Try with NOBODY.

"I guess." I shrugged. "There's nothing I can do now. It won't be long 'til I have to get on that stupid cruise."

"Well, you could see the glass as half full." Étienne was a brilliant and philosophical guy... Or, at least, that's what I thought―as I already mentioned, we rarely spoke to each other. "A trip is still a trip."