I rolled over, shoving my damp hair out the way, and closed my eyes again. It was starting to get light out but it was still early. I didn’t need to get up for another hour or so. I wanted more sleep.

My body still begged for it but my mind refused.

I was too awake. Well, not awake, I was exhausted, but my mind was too alert. I was tense. I knew that, if I did fall asleep, it wouldn’t be long until my mom came in and woke me up so that we could get started on the journey. It was hard to sleep when I knew it would be broken.

Plus, dizziness hovered in my mind, just out of reach. The temptation to give up on sleep and go to Crete with Mitch and try to work out how we were going to break into an abandoned leper colony, laze in the sun and flirt with that hot guy was too strong. Even now, I could feel the fantasy waiting so close to me and even though I knew sleep would be the smartest option, I couldn’t.

I rolled over again, submitting to the temptation, and opened my eyes to a much brighter room. The thin, wispy curtains over the windows did little to block out the bright Cretan sun and the gentle whirl of the air-conditioning unit buzzed softly.

The sheets were softer too somehow. They were nicer than my ones back home, much comfier. I knew that if I were actually there right then, I’d have been able to get back to sleep. But now, with excitement buzzing in me, I just wanted to get up.

I sat up, pushed my hair back off my face and looked around the room. It was much nicer than my room back home too and I would have loved to live there but the startling lack of books wasn’t right.

Everything about the room was light and airy and perfectly suited to a luxury hotel room somewhere like Crete which almost made me wonder where my brain had gotten it from. If it were from an ad or something, I’d love to actually go there one day.

I slipped out of the huge bed and padded towards the window at the far end of the room. Pushing the curtains aside, I opened the french windows and stepped out onto the balcony. The warm orange tiles burnt my feet slightly as I crossed to the edge and rested my forearms on the wall, looking out over the resort.

A splashing from below me caught my attention and I looked down at Mitch who was dutifully swimming lengths of the small private pool. He continued swimming for a while before noticing my gaze and gesturing for me to join him. I nodded before turning and slipping back into the room, feeling the ice-cold air kiss my skin.

I rushed towards my suitcase which I’d tucked in the corner, just past the stairs, and grabbed some clothes for the day. I threw them on quickly, making sure that I looked good enough just in case I happened to run into Christian again, before brushing my teeth and rushing down the stairs.

I had felt bad when Mitch had insisted that I take the room instead of sleeping downstairs on the pullout sofa and I had refused. Kind of.

I’d tried but he wouldn’t budge. He simply looked at me, then looked around the room before sighing and explaining exactly how easy it would be for someone to break into our room whilst we were sleeping. After he told me that, I didn’t have it in me to fight that much. Of course, I was worried about him getting murdered in his sleep but he’d assured me he was used to the risk.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“Good morning, Alice,” Mitch called from one of the seats outside, as I made my way through the lounge, where his bed had already been put away and his bedding folded neatly.

My eyes darted around the pool area as I made my way through the open door and sat down in the chair next to him.

“Morning,” I said finally, having not noticed anything unusual.

“How did you sleep?” he continued in a perfectly pleasant tone.

“Fine,” I snapped. “I would have slept better if I hadn’t been woken up by you splashing around this morning.”

Mitch smirked and gave me a subtle thumbs up.

“I’m sorry, Alice,” he said in a tired tone that did not match his expression. “Can I get you a coffee to help?”

I sighed, my eyes darting towards one of the side walls as a splash came from the next pool over.

There was someone outside in the pool or on the patio of the room next to us, that’s why he was acting like that and had called me Alice.

“Yes. You know how I have my coffee,” I said dismissively.

He sighed loudly.

“Coming right up.”

He gestured for me to follow him in and I nodded.

“Actually, I’ll come with. Knowing you you’ll just mess it up like you mess up everything else,” I said with as much venom as I could muster for how early it was in the morning.

I sent him an apologetic look but he just nodded at me, looking surprised and impressed.

“Sorry!” I cried softly as soon as the door was shut behind me. “That felt so mean!”

“Kid,” Mitch said with a laugh, holding up a hand to stop me. “You did great.”

I cringed, accepting his compliment but still feeling bad.

He shook his head with a smile and started rooting through the coffee pods.

“Honestly, you did good,” he insisted before glancing back at me. “I gotta say, I don’t know how you have your coffee though. What do you want? We got a fancy machine here and a bunch of pods. I can do you a good deal on a latte, caramel latte, cappuccino, Americano or a flat white but I truly don’t know why anyone would have that. Any of those catching your fancy?”

My mind reeled as Mitch started opening drawers on the cabinet the coffee machine was on.

I didn’t drink coffee, not normally, but I kind of did want to try one. I didn’t know what half the drinks Mitch had mentioned were though.

“Oh, got even more in here. Got some vegan ones, oat milk, coconut or almond. Some iced coffees too and… orange juice. How does a coffee pod of orange juice work?” he asked, turning to me and holding out a small pod that had a picture of an orange slice on it.

I laughed, taking the pod and shaking it slightly.

It rattled worryingly but I didn’t have an answer for Mitch. I brought it up to my nose and sniffed it experimentally but it just smelt faintly of coffee. I wasn’t sure if that were from being in a drawer of coffee pods or if the smell came from the drink itself.

“Is it… is it orange juice and coffee, like, together?” I asked, holding it back out to Mitch.

He took it and looked down at the pod in fascination.

“You know, don’t knock it until you try it. I’ve had it a few times. The flavour is unexpected but… not bad,” he said, still staring at it. “But, I think this is just juice. Damn. I’ll just have another latte then. What did you want, kid?”

“Um, a latte would be good,” I said quickly, hoping that it would be. “Did you say there was a caramel latte?”

That sounded like it would be better. Sweeter at least.

“Mmm…” Mitch started pulling the drawers open again. “Yes! Got it here. One caramel latte coming up!”

I watched awkwardly as he fiddled around with the coffee machine, not quite sure what to do, before crossing over to the table and sinking into a seat. Steam poured out of the machine before coffee dripped down into the mug and Mitch placed it in front of me.

I sniffed the drink, the comforting sweet smell of coffee washing over me.

“So,” Mitch said over the noise of his coffee being made. “Plan for the day…”

I sat up straighter, my attention on him immediately.

Would we be going to Spinalonga? Or something else fun?

“How’s your stamina? I mean, I know that you can swim and you were pretty fast when I almost hit you with my car. Can you maintain that speed for long?” he asked, sitting down opposite me, his coffee in his hand.

“Um… only when I’m being chased?” I tried to joke before hastily adding, “I don’t know really. I don’t run much, apart from when we have to at school.”

He nodded slightly and took a sip of his steaming drink, seemingly unbothered by the temperature.

“That makes sense. Probably the same for most kids your age but we can work on that. We’ll hit the gym today, not go too hard because being stiff and sore when you potentially have to run for your life is a terrible thing. Trust me, I learnt that the hard way. I wonder if they have a personal trainer at the gym here, I assume they will. My Greek is a little rusty but I reckon we can work something out. Wait, you can’t dive, can you?”

I paused, my cup lifted halfway to my lips.

“Like, diving in a pool or…” I asked, trailing off.

“Scuba.”

“I never tried.”

Mitch nodded, his eyes narrowed as he took another sip.

“How do you feel about learning?” he asked.

I considered it for a moment, taking the time to try some of the bitter yet almost sickly sweet coffee.

It sounded pretty fun but also scary. The ocean was a terrifying place with sharks and other murderous animals. The thought of being trapped somewhere deep underwater, my oxygen slowly dwindling as some shark came towards me made my heart squeeze in fear.

But, this was a dream. I couldn’t get hurt in a dream, surely.

I was safe. I could feel that I was still at home, in bed. When I concentrated on it, I could feel my duvet resting on me, my pillow under my head and I could almost see the light streaming through my closed eyelids.

Plus, in the dream, I’d probably be with Mitch so I’d be okay. I’d be a pretty terrible treasure hunter if I couldn’t scuba dive.

It felt necessary. We were about to dive in the dream I’d had before. We were on a boat somewhere similar to Crete, ready to go.

I needed to learn.

“I’d be open to learning,” I said carefully.

Mitch grinned and nodded.

“I can sort that out. I wonder how much I’d need to bribe the diving people to let me borrow the equipment. I reckon if I tell them that we’re both already certified and make some fairly real looking PADI documents, they won’t mind too much. Then, I could take you out and teach you for real. There’s got to be some not too horrible spots around here that we could use. It would be better to use a pool, of course, but we can’t exactly say you’re a diver then do that,” he mused. “I mean, I managed to teach Zaq, I can teach you. That kid did not learn easily.”

“Why not?” I asked, worry growing within me.

Mitch chuckled softly and shook his head.

“I mean, lots of reasons honestly. He wasn’t a big fan of the ocean, didn’t like swimming anywhere where he couldn’t see what was going on under him and didn’t really get why you have to study so much to learn to dive.”

I understood most of those things, truly. I didn’t love the idea of something swimming under me and not being able to see it.

It made my skin crawl.

“You have to study to be able to dive?” I asked, choosing to focus on that instead of everything else he’d said.

“If you want to dive well, you do. The actual process of diving is easy enough, it’s the other stuff you need to know. You gotta learn about buoyancy, warning signs of things like the bends or oxygen toxicity, how to communicate underwater, how to use dive computers and what not. It’s a surprisingly large amount that you need to learn to be able to do very little.”

I nodded, my mind swimming from everything he’d said.

It made sense but I’d never given it much thought. I didn’t think it would be that difficult or require that much learning. I thought you could just put an oxygen tank on and be done with it but… apparently not.

“But, I’ll get that sorted this afternoon. First, breakfast, some time by the pool and the gym. Are you ready to go down now?”

I opened my mouth to reply but light burst in front of my eyes and dizziness overcame me.

“Good morning, Grace! Time to get up and get ready to go. We’re already running late!” my mother called.

I wrenched my eyes open, the brightness burning into my brain. My mom had turned the lights on in my room and it was blinding.

“Morning,” I muttered, my voice gruff from sleep and my head still spinning slightly.

“Did you finish packing last night? Is this all you’re taking?” she demanded, standing over the two suitcases I’d packed the night before.

“Yeah,” I said, pushing myself up and rubbing the sleep and white spots from my vision.

My mom examined the bulging bags for a moment before sighing and turning away.

“Are you sure you have everything? I don’t want a repeat of last time. My mother still brings up the fact that you didn’t wear tights to dinner and how inappropriate that was.”

I resisted the urge to sigh at her.

That hadn’t happened last time, it had been years ago. I’d not worn tights with a dress to this fancy restaurant which apparently was super inappropriate, even though it was the middle of summer and I was, like, twelve, maybe thirteen. Surely, that was okay? I hadn’t even considered that it would be a problem.

“I’ve packed tights,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I doubled checked.”

My mom’s nostrils flared at me.

“Don’t say ‘yeah’, say ‘yes’. I don’t want to hear another lecture from my mother about how I’ve failed rearing you because you sound cheap,” she snapped.

“Sorry,” I muttered, just wanting our conversation to be done so that I could start getting ready.

“It’s fine,” she replied, her tone making it clear that it was not fine. “Have you packed your swimming costumes?”

“Yeah. Yes,” I corrected myself quickly.

“And nice clothes for when we go out for dinner?”

“Yes.”

“And some cardigans to cover yourself up?”

“Yes.”

I knew better than to not pack those. My grandparents always judged me for showing too much skin, even if I didn’t think it was that much. I barely wore anything low cut or revealing and yet they made it sound like I was walking around basically naked.

They were never openly rude or mean, it was always just looks and little comments. It was enough to make me very cautious of what I wore around them.

“Good. Bring your bags down, we need to go out in five minutes. We’re already running late and your father,” she sneered as she said the word, “has been wasting time faffing with the car.”

“Okay, I’ll get up now,” I said flatly.

She turned and left the room without saying anything more and I sagged, staring blankly at the duvet in front of me.

I was excited to go, kind of. Things weren’t too bad there and Mom was normally in a bit of a better mood but… there were also a lot of things I didn’t like about being there. Hopefully, my grandparents wouldn’t spend too much time with us when we were there and things would be better once they left. They always were.

I blinked heavily and started to stand, my imagination wandering back to Crete. Flashes of the world flickered through my mind as I started getting dressed mechanically, with only the faintest trace of dizziness. It was almost like every time I blinked, I jumped between my fantasy and reality, a foot in both worlds but not really present in either.

I caught glimpses of a fancy-looking gym, rows of gleaming and confusing-looking machines, weights and a wall of windows overlooking the resort. A man, tall and overly muscular, talking to Mitch before pointing to various machines and showing me how to use them. Mitch worked out nearby, keeping an eye on me as if cautious to make sure I didn’t do too much.

Even as I brushed my teeth and tied my hair up, I was aware of the phantom burn of a stitch starting in my side which made me chuckle slightly. I knew why I was feeling it. It was because, in my imagination, I was on the treadmill, the inclination turned up way too high, but I shouldn’t have been feeling it really.

I shook my head, staring at my reflection, and pushed the imagined ache away.

“Grace! What is taking you so long? We need to go!” my mom snapped, her voice echoing down the hallway.

“Just a sec!” I called back, starting to leave the bathroom before stopping, my eyes finding the bottle of conditioner that I’d left in the shower.

A realisation crashed into me. I hadn’t packed anything from the bathroom. My toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, hair oil and everything else were still scattered around the room.

My eyes widened and I rushed along the hall and into my bedroom, grabbing my shower bag from my desk before throwing myself back through the door. I shoved theitems almost at random into the waterproof bag and barely managed to zip it before rushing back into my room.

I stared helplessly at my bulging suitcases. It definitely would not fit in either of those but it could go in my backpack, that was barely full. I lifted the bag onto my bed and ripped the top open, shoving the toiletries bag deep inside and tightening it again.

I looked frantically around the room, searching for anything else that I might have missed but I couldn’t see anything obvious. It was fine. It would be fine. If there was anything that I really needed that I forgot, we could just go out to the shops.

I chewed on my lip nervously before shaking my head. I could hear my mom directing my dad around downstairs, I just needed to go down and be done.

I double-checked that I’d done up my backpack before swinging it onto my shoulders, ignoring the slight tweak in my back that it cause.

“Grace! Are you coming?” my mom shouted up the stairs.

“Coming now!” I called back, grabbing my suitcases and dragging them out of the room.

The wheels caught on the carpet, gouging deep tracks into it but I ignore them, rushing towards the stairs and struggling down them, the suitcases heavy and unwieldy.

“Here, darling!” my dad called as I turned the bend, dropping a bag by the front door and rushing towards me.

“Steven,” my mom snapped coldly. “Can you finish putting that bag in the car, please?”

Her tone made it clear that it was not a request.

Dad rolled his eyes slightly at me, helping me get the suitcases to the bottom of the stairs before turning back towards my mom.

“Right away, dear,” he said to her before looking back at me. “Leave your bags there, I’ll grab them in a minute. I’ve got a whole Tetris situation going on in the boot.”

I chuckled lightly at him as he picked up the bag he’d dropped and disappeared through the front door.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” my mom asked sharply.

I looked down at my clothes. I was just wearing a t-shirt and leggings, nothing too questionable or so I thought. It was basically the exact outfit I’d worn in my dream with Mitch. He hadn’t judged me for it.

“Yeah?”

“Grace, what did I tell you about saying ‘yeah’?” she said, badly mimicking my voice as she said the word. “Fine. I’ll just tell my parents that they’re your travelling clothes and that you’d never normally wear something so casual out in public.”

I ignored that, knowing that she was lying but almost doing it for me.

Not fully, it was mostly for appearances.

“Want to help me squeeze the last couple of things into the car?” my dad asked me, reappearing in the house.

“Yes,” I said, jumping on that immediately.

I grabbed the handle of one of my suitcases but my dad shooed my hand aside with a grin and took it instead.

I followed him from the house, the morning air surprisingly crisp for the middle of summer, and stopped at the back of our car. The boot was open and almost entirely full. I wasn’t sure why but my mom always liked to bring a lot of stuff when we went to my grandparents. They were pretty judgemental about things like repeated outfits or not wearing the right shoes with a dress or… well, most things.

“Oof,” my dad huffed as he swung my first suitcase up into the boot. “Is this all just books?”

My cheeks flushed slightly and I glanced back towards the door, making sure my mom was out of earshot.

“Not entirely…”

He laughed, causing my mom to appear in the doorway, her arms crossed and her lips pursed.

“You sure you got enough?” he teased, loading the second one in too.

“Probably but if not, the internet exists,” I shot back with a grin.

He laughed and ruffled my hair.

“You sure you’re going to be able to get signal up there?” he joked.

“Eh,” I shrugged. “Normally you can get signal if you hide on the roof just outside the room I stay in.”

He narrowed his eyes at me a little.

“Good, but be careful out there. Don’t go out if it’s raining and stay away from the edge.”

“I know, I will, Dad.”

He smiled at me before pulling me into a hug.

“Have a good holiday, Gracie.”