Piracy Cruise Lines (NFI#28) Excerpt

Herein lies the beginning of Piracy Cruise Lines. I'm tempted to make it the whole first chapter, but it's easy enough to keep writing afterwards I'll try to push myself further. I always feel like my chapters are a lot shorter than normal novels'.

Feedback appreciated!

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I just manage to get the door closed behind me before I'm impaled by a rapier. The blade thumps into the thick wood behind me as I fumble with the lock.

"I didn't know you were together, okay?"

My assailant keeps yowling as I stumble back to my skinny, maid-made bed, but I can't make out half of what he's saying. Something about how unbelievable it is that a landlubber managed to outpace him. Yeah, maybe it would be more impressive if you hadn't downed enough rum to fuel a rocket ship.

Panting, I sit on the edge of my bed and glance out the window. Blocking my view of the sky is the tall, toned figure of Francisco.

"How the heck did you get in my room?" I sputter, looking him over as the man outside groans in defeat and staggers away with thumping footfalls.

Tossing a length of curly, brown hair over his shoulder, Francisco snorts. "I merely leapt from my balcony to yours, mi amigo. If you ever put any treasure in your room, you ought to start locking the windows." He turns his neck to look outside, the hooked outline of his nose sharp against the blue sky.

"The fact that you'd just smash your way through the glass aside—" I push some sweaty, blonde bangs out of my face—"our balconies are, like, twelve feet apart."

Francisco scratches his stubbly chin. "I would put it closer to thirteen."

Exhaling, I flop back on the mattress, loosening my scarf. "What I mean is, it's a bit far to jump. If you end up falling into the ocean next time, you can't say I didn't warn you."

He laughs in his usual way—worthy of theatre. "But if I fall into the ocean, I won't be saying much of anything, no?"

"You know what I mean."

Oh, wait, I'm talking about sensible things. Of course he doesn't know what I mean. We don't barge into other people's rooms, Francisco; we're strangers, not fellow crew members. We don't immediately challenge our poor, scrawny neighbors to fisticuffs after we introduce ourselves; that's just… weird.

Of course, I'm the one that decided to spend Fall Break on the PCL Scurvy. Hey, it sounds like fun, this is one of the cruise line's newest ships, and I'll be able to go back to the university newspaper with an article worth reading. Yeah. If I make it that far. It's only the second day aboard, and I've been chased by drunks, had my room broken into several times, and I'm pretty sure some expert pickpockets have swindled me out of my camera because I haven't found it and Francisco hasn't stolen it from me in plain sight. I was going to vlog with that, too…

"Listen," I start, sitting back up.

Francisco looks up from where he had been investigating my curtains. Like I would hide anything good behind those.

"It's formal dinner night, so I'm going to start getting ready for that." I pause, but Francisco just nods and goes back to pulling the curtains around.

"You are welcome to leave my room for the time being," I tell him.

"Oh, come now, Davey." Apparently "Sherman" isn't a good enough pirate name, so he's been abbreviating my middle name. Dropping the curtain, he continues, "If I left your room every time you asked, I would never be in here!"

I open my mouth but really have no good response to that. Eventually, I stand up and say, "Well, leave this time. You have to get ready for dinner, too, don't you?"

"It won't take me long, though."

"Francisco."

With a sigh, he says something to himself in Spanish, adjusts his three-cornered hat, and steps out onto the balcony. Before I can inform him my room indeed has a door, he perches on the railing and shouts, "Jerónimo!" Pouncing on his balcony rail, he flips himself back onto solid concrete and waves a goodbye.

Show-off.