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Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Dedication
  4. Chapter One
  5. Chapter Two
  6. Chapter Three
  7. Chapter Four
  8. Chapter Five
  9. Chapter Six
  10. Chapter Seven
  11. Chapter Eight
  12. Chapter Nine
  13. Chapter Ten
  14. Chapter Eleven
  15. Chapter Twelve
  16. Chapter Thirteen
  17. Chapter Fourteen
  18. Chapter Fifteen
  19. Chapter Sixteen
  20. Chapter Seventeen
  21. Chapter Eighteen
  22. Chapter Nineteen
  23. Chapter Twenty
  24. Chapter Twenty-One
  25. Chapter Twenty-Two
  26. Chapter Twenty-Three
  27. Chapter Twenty-Four
  28. Chapter Twenty-Five
  29. Chapter Twenty-Six
  30. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  31. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  32. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  33. Chapter Thirty
  34. Chapter Thirty-One
  35. Chapter Thirty-Two
  36. Chapter Thirty-Three
  37. Chapter Thirty-Four
  38. Chapter Thirty-Five
  39. Chapter Thirty-Six
  40. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  41. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  42. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  43. Chapter Forty
  44. Chapter Forty-One
  45. Chapter Forty-Two
  46. Chapter Forty-Three
  47. Chapter Forty-Four
  48. Chapter Forty-Five
  49. Chapter Forty-Six
  50. Chapter Forty-Seven
  51. Chapter Forty-Eight
  52. Chapter Forty-Nine
  53. Chapter Fifty
  54. Chapter Fifty-One
  55. Chapter Fifty-Two
  56. Chapter Fifty-Three
  57. Chapter Fifty-Four
  58. Chapter Fifty-Five
  59. Chapter Fifty-Six
  60. Chapter Fifty-Seven
  61. Chapter Fifty-Eight
  62. Chapter Fifty-Nine
  63. Epilogue
  64. Acknowledgements

Lucky Rachel landed in California, but I got sent to Pennsylvania, which is practically next to New York. If ‘practically’ means ‘four and a half hours on a very cramped bus’. I was put into a team with Alllison (three ‘l’s), Russ and Tyler. Alllison was a very active Christian. In fact, I’m pretty sure that she was a promising junior member of a small cult, and that she’d been sent to recruit.

I hated Russ and Tyler on sight. Tyler wore his naturally dark hair gelled into upward spikes. And I hope he’d bleached it himself, because if he had paid a person money to do that to him, they should be in prison. His jeans were cut like palazzo pants, with a wallet chain that looked like a skipping rope for S&M Barbie. At first, I assumed he had flown from afar and was TALKING LIKE THIS because his ears hadn’t popped yet. He had driven in from Connecticut. Russ, his best friend and sidekick, was a little more well mannered and moderate. But unforgivably, he’d punctuate every single one of Tyler’s VERY LOUD OBSERVATIONS by slapping his knee and screaming ‘That’s what she said!’

We’d all arrived a day before the kids, to plan a programme of activities. Russ and Tyler were unbearable, and Alllison wasn’t interested in making friends with me. Not when she already had her good friend Jesus.

By dinnertime, I’d managed to calm myself down. I needed to be kinder, more open minded. I was very, very jetlagged. This was all new. Everything would be easier after a decent night’s sleep. That’s when Tyler made his pitch. ‘YO, BRITISH!’ He gestured to me. He is still the only person I’ve ever known who is able to whisper in capital letters. ‘DON’T TELL THE NUN, BUT WE’VE GOT SOME DECENT SCOTCH IN OUR CABIN. JOIN US AFTER LIGHTS OUT?’ Alcohol was strictly forbidden at SS USA, but I thought that I could get away with pleading British confusion. We didn’t properly start until tomorrow, anyway.

Tyler may have looked like he was in a Sum 41 tribute band but his father owned a village green’s worth of hedge funds. He’d raided the family liquor cabinet and sneaked out a 30-year-old Glenlivet. It’s still the nicest thing I’ve ever had to drink. ‘It’s older than you are!’ he said, a little bit pervily. ‘We’re the same age,’ I sniffed, and necked a shot.