It may be the dress I'm wearing, but I feel so lightweight. I'm not even touching the ground as I move across the dance floor. Any moment now, the sea breeze will lift me into the air and toss me into the waves, so I hold Harry's hands tighter.
On any other day I wouldn't have been able to stop grinning. With the beat pounding through my flats, the breath of the night in my hair and Harry holding my hands, you'd think I'd be the happiest girl in the world. But I'm here now, barely paying attention to anyone as I drift with Harry's movements.
"Tasmin," Harry says. I glance up at him. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I lie. "Why?"
"I… dunno, you just seem…" He takes his time thinking of a word to describe my mood. " ... less cheerful than usual?"
I shake my head. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just thinking."
He doesn't reply, but grips my hands tighter. I barely take any notice, returning to the void that is my mind to think about the conversation I overheard earlier today. We pass by Charlie and Lilli, who are in deep conversation until they near us. Charlie shoots us a smile, but Lilli merely spares me a glance as she slides by.
When they disappear into the crowds of people around us, I turn back, eyes blank, train of thought back on track. I stare at Harry's linen shirt.
Lilli knows something about Harry. Something that she's not planning on telling me, but something that she's willing to share with Emily secretly. I'm being left in the dark, and for what? It seems that I'm the only one who doesn't know what's going on in Harry's life. Am I that insignificant to Harry that I have to be treated like a little child, always unknowing of "adult things"?
"Tasmin…" Harry murmurs.
"What?" I say a little too harshly.
"You, um… look a little pale," Harry comments softly. Well, about as soft your voice can be when half the cruise's occupants are surrounding you. "Do you want to… um..."
Oh, what am I thinking? No. It's not Harry. He will tell me when he's comfortable. But Lilli? And now Emily? They know exactly what's going on, and they're not doing their duty as friends by informing me of the situation. It would be really nice to get some sort of reassurance from them. Anything but secret conversations behind the wall and blank glares piercing the cheer of the night.
"I'm fine, really."
Harry doesn't look convinced. "Do you think we ate a little too much from the buffet?"
"By 'we', do you mean 'me'?" I inquire, giving him what I hope to be a convincing smile.
I'm given a small smile in return. He looks as if he wants to lead me to sit down, but before he can, a hand grabs my shoulder. A hand that belongs to Jamie, the world's best photographer.
"Jamie," I say, a little surprised. "You're here."
"Well, of course!" he replies.
Anik appears underneath his shoulder. "He wouldn't miss it for the world," he comments.
Ruffling Anik's hair, Jamie exclaims, "There you are! It's time to bust a move, isn't it, 'Nik?"
"Who said?"
Suddenly, the mood changes. Slower, more romantic music sweeps through the crowd. As if on cue, couples hold each other close for a slow dance. Drinks are left on tables, and eyes are on the dance floor. I'm a little upset that Harry and I are no more than acquaintances with an expired past.
"We'll leave you two to it then," Jamie tells us. We don't reply. He stares us up and down as if we just told him his photography skills were disgusting. "Oh, boy. You two younglings don't have any idea what's going on, do you?"
"Huh?" Harry exclaims.
"Not to worry," Jamie tells us, approaching us and returning his hands to our shoulders. "I'll fix you guys up well."
Then he gets to work. He pulls my arms up, then swiftly nudges me into Harry's chest. I look up and Harry looks down. Then two stiff hands are on my waist. My arms that were by my side are now resting on Harry's shoulders. Cluelessly, we both turn to face the no-longer-world's-best-photographer and now Michaelangelo, our sculptor. He laughs out loud.
"'Nik, what do you think about putting Tasmin's leg on Harry's hip?"
"NO!" I yell at him and he laughs even louder. Even Anik lets out an embarrassed giggle.
"Alright, alright," Jamie says to no one but himself, then waves us off. "Dance, children."
Couples are already drifting around us, swaying to the soft music. And apart from the lights by the car and the twinkling fairy lights, Harry's unsure smile is the brightest I've seen in ages.
"Curse that photographer," I say, laughing.
He laughs along with me, but then asks, "Do you mean that?"
I turn my head downwards, trying not to see his stern eyes. I don't think I've paid much attention to Harry's eyes apart from the fact that they're forest green. They're hard. Even when he's smiling, his eyes have always stayed bold and fixated, like he's focusing really hard on something.
I stare a little too long.
"Tasmin…" he whispers.
"Yeah?"
"We should, um… move."
"Huh?" I glance around at the people dancing around us, ignoring our presence. "Oh."
The first few steps must look as if I'm just learning to walk, because I stumble to the side, then to the other side, then into Harry, and then into someone random who jumps in surprise. Harry pulls me closer so I don't start a human domino sequence.
"Sorry," I mutter. "I honestly don't know how to dance."
"I thought you did Jazz lessons."
"I did," I sigh, but I'm restraining a smile from Harry. He knows that I used to do dancing! "But Jazz is different from this."
"But we also learnt ballroom dancing during high school," Harry tells me.
"I know!"
"Then…"
"You remember what they taught you?" I question, raising my eyebrows at him.
"You don't?"
"Oh, shut up, Harry. You're smart," I say, trying to sound harsh, but it ends up sounding like a compliment. Which it is.
Harry seems to freeze a little after the compliment.