Seafarer

Chapter 1: Ravensport

"Ladies and gentleman, we are preparing to make our final descent into Rhode Island..."

Dammit. These flights are never long enough.

As the captain's voice cuts through the soft music playing through my headphones, I tear my eyes away from the angry gray clouds outside. A pristinely dressed flight attendant shuffles my way with a smile plastered on her face, extending a flimsy trash bag toward my row. I pass an empty can and pretzel wrapper into the sack, trying to ignore the dread coursing through me as a different voice over the intercom continues, "Please fasten your seatbelts and return your seats to their upright and locked positions. Large electronics and tray tables must be—"

I stop listening. I've been nervous to the point of nausea for the last 48 full hours, dreading the moment when my plane will touch down in Warwick and solidify my return to Rhode Island. Not even the ginger ale I guzzled has settled my stomach. This last week has been stressful enough—what with exams and packing my bags for the summer—but the feeling has only grown stronger every mile I've gotten closer to home. I close my eyes again, taking a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, just like my therapist taught me.

The clouds on the last leg of my flight have gone from fat and white to heavy with rain, so I know that the weather on the ground will suit my mood. At least I'll have the drive to Ravensport to unwind and prepare myself for what's to come. The little coastal town—mostly made up of estates, boutiques, and restaurants—is a good 45 minutes from the airport, and I have no illusions that my parents will bother coming to get me themselves. No, I won't have to face them right away.

If I'm lucky, the summer's social calendar will already be in full swing, and we can get over the unpleasantness of my bad news without a full-on meltdown. If I'm not lucky... Well, my parents aren't exactly known for their patience and flexibility.

God, I'm in such deep shit.

The wheels hit the tarmac with a jolt, and I ignore the rush of sound in my ears as I focus on the soothing notes of the song now drawing to a close through my AirPods. Cracking open an eye, I switch my phone off airplane mode and wait for any notifications to roll in.

Normally, I'd expect a few messages from my best friend, Sadie, but she's on her way back to her own family in San Francisco and won't be home for hours yet. We said our goodbyes at the airport in New York, and she promised to come visit me this summer when my parents get over the fact that I'm failing half my classes at Cornell.

If they get over it. More likely than not, they'll finally skin me alive and leave me on the beach for the seagulls to eat.

I sigh through my nerves. At least I know Sadie will be there to help me pick up the pieces when it's all said and done. I don't know what I'd do without her. My parents have made few decisions for me that I'm truly grateful for, but sending me to a boarding school in Vermont when I turned thirteen is strangely one of them. I met Sadie there, and she's been the biggest dose of sanity in my life ever since.

The plane comes to a stop at the gate, and I lose myself in the bustle of gathering my belongings. The chatter of others reaching for their luggage is a dull hum as I double-check my seat pocket and disembark the plane.

Despite my best efforts to really drag my feet at baggage claim, I step out into the May air a mere 20 minutes later with suitcases in tow and a scowl on my face. I look up and down the line of cars and quickly spot the black SUV that our driver, Franklin, favors for trips to the airport. I wave as the tall man spots me and smiles, lowering a sign that reads Katrina Vaughn.

"Miss Katrina," he says fondly as I draw even with the car. "Welcome home."

"Thanks, Franklin." I look out over the busy sidewalk, feigning disinterest as a shield against my discomfort. "Was the drive okay?"