I’m prepared to scoff. To laugh in his face and call him a liar. Except I don’t see any trace of a lie in his guileless expression. His mouth is a thin line and his jaw could cut glass, but there’s a hint of actual confusion behind his eyes.

I gape at him. Is he for real?

Viral video, constant rudeness—does that ring a bell?

I’m saved from responding when a staff member calls me forward to receive my wet suit. Thank God. If this is a new level of manipulation from Graeme, I cannot deal with it right now.

“How are you today?” the naturalist—her name tag says Xiavera—asks with a sunny smile. She’s a compact young woman with dark brown hair framing an angular face. Like the rest of the crew and staff on board, she’s Ecuadoran.

“Fine, thanks.”

“Excited for the hike this morning?”

“I’m doing the photo walk, and yeah, it should be great.”

She eyes me up and down. “Really? Why not the long hike?”

“I have to check in with the office. Work stuff.”

“Too bad. The hike takes us through magnificent seabird colonies to a cliff overlooking the ocean. It is one of the most beautiful sights in the Galápagos. You will miss out.”

With a tut, she riffles through a row of hanging wet suits and pulls one down that’s edged in pink, size medium. After asking my shoe size, she hands me a pair of fins, a snorkel, a mask, and a long mesh bag for storage. I request a second set of everything for Walsh—she might be out of commission for the day, but I know she’ll want to snorkel at some point during the trip once she’s feeling better.

Beside me, a different naturalist equips Graeme. I can’t help but notice his easy smile with everyone he encounters. It’s just so at odds with the obnoxious coworker I’ve been dealing with for the last year. What’s his deal?

“Take a minute to try everything on and make sure it fits,” says Xiavera. “You’ll be able to exchange items during lunch, but—”

“Excuse me. Ex-c-use me!” An elbow jabs into my side and I automatically move out of the way.

It’s a red-faced passenger. She looks to be in her sixties and she’s holding a pair of snorkeling fins that she plops unceremoniously on the table. “These don’t fit. Just like the last pair didn’t fit. I said size eight, and these are obviously not an eight. They’re too small.”