Cruise Control

2. Miller Lite

Chase

"Man, I'm telling you, she's something else. Blonde, gorgeous, and she knows how to have a good time," he boasts, a sly grin playing on his lips.

I turn to Gavin and laugh, amused by his enthusiasm. He's hyped up many girls like this before—Rachel, Lily, Samantha—each one apparently more amazing than the last. I'm used to this. Gavin's the type to dive headfirst into romance, always entertaining us with tales of blonde bombshells and "unforgettable" nights.

"I can imagine," I reply, slipping into my swim trunks. "So, what's the plan?" I ask, adjusting the straps and giving Gavin my full attention. "Just hanging out with Amber and her friend?"

He nods eagerly. "That's the plan, my friend. And let me tell you, her friend is something special too. From what I remember, easy on the eyes for sure."

Raising an eyebrow, I shoot him a sidelong glance. "Good to know. Any warnings for us?"

"Just don't be assholes. These girls are cool, and I don't want them thinking we're a bunch of jerks."

Teasingly, I respond, "No promises."

The sound of water running from the shower stops, and Ricky walks out, a toothbrush dangling lazily from the corner of his mouth. He strides out, still dripping wet, and heads for the closet, stark naked.

Ethan, visibly appalled, swiftly tosses a towel in Ricky's direction. "Dude! Put some clothes on. No one wants to see your pale ass cheeks."

A mischievous grin spreads across Ricky's face. "Oh yeah?" he retorts, charging forward and sending Ethan into a frenzy as they engage in a chaotic chase around the cabin, foam flying and clothes scattering across the floor.

My friends are such idiots. Shaking my head at them, I redirect my attention to Gavin. "You sure you want to bring this girl around us?"

Gavin glances hesitantly towards our friends, who are currently engaged in a lively wrestling match on the floor. "Looks like I'm in for it now."

Gavin and I share a friendship that goes back to our high school days. We were football teammates back then, and our shared commitment to the same college only solidified our bond. At Penn State, we crossed paths with Ethan and Ricky through our fraternity.

Our group's friendship was instantaneous, cemented during a rowdy beer pong game at a freshman year darty, and we've been inseparable ever since. When I suggested SeaVista Global Studies for our senior year, I never imagined all my buddies would be up for it. But here we are, and I couldn't be happier.

"Ricky, get fucking dressed dude. You've gotta hustle. They're already there," Gavin interjects with a hint of frustration. And with one last forceful shove of Ethan, Ricky gets up. 

Ethan follows suit, a scowl etched across his face. "Complete idiot." 

"How hot is this friend?" I ask Gavin, referring back to his earlier comment. I haven't gotten laid yet here and desperately want to cross "Bang on a cruise ship" off my bucket list. 

A smile spreads across Gavin's face. "Pretty hot. Your type, I'd say."

That's when my mind wanders back to her. Gabriella. Now, she...she was hot. Devastatingly, so. When I found out she was my partner, I almost kissed our professor for unknowingly playing best wing woman ever. 

It struck me after class that I'd been unusually forward with her, mainly because looking at her was making my pants suddenly feel ten sizes too small. I tried to rein it in, but then she'd bite her pink lips, I'd catch a glimpse of her long tanned legs, or, worst of all, she'd look at me with those big honey-colored eyes, and my self-restraint would crumble.