Refer to Rule 1

"No. Final answer. I'm NOT getting on."


"I keep asking you this and you never answer, so- it's kind of hopeless at this point, but- why not?"


"Um...good question..." Marie Flynn cast her deep blue eyes to the ground bashfully, trailing one bright orange sneaker around in a small circle.


Thomas Fletcher folded his arms and raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall of the Flynn house. "I'm waiting."


Marie bit her lip and twirled a soft lock of fire-red hair around her finger, the way she did when she was nervous, anxious, or embarrassed. "I'm...sorta kinda..." then she mumbled something under her breath that he couldn't make out.


"Pardon me?"


"I said that..." Mumbles, once again.


Thomas had both eyebrows raised now. "Marie..."


Marie let out a sigh of defeat. "Look, I'm scared, okay? Now, go ahead and laugh." She squeezed her eyes shut and bowed her head, red tinging her freckle-covered cheeks.  


But, something worse came.


Utter silence.


She cracked opened an eye to see the brunette boy staring at her with his head cocked, his navy blue eyes confused. "What? What is it?"


"I never knew."


"Of course you don't. I never told anyone, but...I can't swim." She was now close to tears. "I mean, I look at all the other kids, having fun at the beach, laughing at a pool party, hanging out by a lake...but I can't go. I can't go on this boat ride with you, I'm sorry, but...I'm scared, Tommy. Just think- one wrong move, and...and..." she trailed off, although her unsaid words hung heavily in the air, thick with tension.


Then, she got the response she least expected. "...No."  


She looked up, eyes watery. "What?"


"You heard me. I said, 'no'. You're coming on that boat ride with me. My mum and dad paid good money for us kids- and you wouldn't want to disappoint them or your family, now, would you?"


"But...Tom, I-"


"Listen to me here, Maria Elyzabeth Flynn Garcia-Shapiro," declared Thomas, stepping onto the outside stairwell and scrambling up to the highest stair. "You're going to go on the S.S. Shipton with me, and you're going to love it."


Marie giggled.


Thomas continued on with one of his rare speeches. "If desired, you shall sport a jacket that may preserve your life, or more commonly referred to as a life jacket. So cleverly named."


Marie was now full-out laughing. "Yes, Thomas, I know it is."


"And, if you happen to fall overboard, you shall float and I will see to it that I save you myself. Those idiot lifeguards will be served on silver platters," Thomas said satisfyingly, strutting around with his chin held high and in a funny voice, the backs of his hands pressed against his hips. His odd little walk almost reminded Marie of how a clucking chicken strolled along. He was also trying to do an American accent, which failed miserably, the strong British accent dripping heavily off his words, no matter how hard he tried to mask it.


Marie wiped a tear- conjured from laughing so much- from her eye. "Okay, Mr. Lifeguard, I'll go on the tour of Danville River on the S. S. Shipton with you."


He smiled. Mission accomplished.


--


"Be good, dear!" Mrs. Flynn pulled her little orange-bowed daughter into her arms in a tight embrace, oblivious as her husband to the near suffocation happening.


"Mom...can't...breathe..." gasped Marie, eyes bulging.


Mrs. Flynn uttered a small yelp of surprise then let go. Marie took a deep breath, thankful her circulation was back to normal and she could actually breathe again. "Sorry, Marie."


"It's okay, Mom."


"I love you very much, dearie. Have fun with Tommy on the cruise, my honey bunny sweetie-cake!" beamed Mrs. Flynn, kissing Marie on the top of her flat head, a little louder than she should've. Marie blushed.  


"Moooooom, not in front of Thomas!" she whined, jerking her head towards the dusky-brown haired boy behind her with his arms folded and laughing so hard he was practically convulsing.


Mrs. Flynn looked up. "Oh, okay. Sorry. Now, even though your father's at work, he told me to tell you to have a good time. Take care of her now, Thomas. Make sure she doesn't blow up the boat. Y'know, like last time."


Thomas grinned. "Don't you worry about a thing, Aunt Isabella."


"Oh, wonderful! I knew I could count on you. Such a responsible young man," she cooed, ruffling his hair before climbing back into her hovercar. She rolled down the window. "Bye! See you both in three and a half hours!" She waved, slammed on the gas pedal, then disappeared into the sky.


Marie and Thomas stared after her. Marie turned to him, eyes narrowed. "We will never speak of this again."


"But-"


"NEVER."


Thomas chuckled. "Agreed." The spun and walked the board leading up to the luxurious ship.


The two opposites strolled up to the door. Thomas swung it open and gestured inside. "After you."


Marie giggled and curtsied, her index finger pressed into her cheek. "Thank, sir." She took a dainty step, then gasped. Good thing Thomas caught her from behind, or she would've fainted.


In front of the duo stretched a vast room, with a plush carpet four inches thick. Adults in flowing, glimmering satin gowns that rippled like waves and crisp, fresh, pressed tuxedos chatted and gestured at one another. A golden chandelier with countless crystals hanging from it, glittering like stars, twinkling from the ceiling, sending bent beams of glorious light sprawling across the indoor deck. The two ten-year-olds felt very out of place- an un-groomed girl in a casual orange dress and sneakers and a young boy with his chocolate hair not slicked back and in simple black shorts and a T-shirt. Suddenly, the suave, classical music came to an abrupt stop. The adults all stopped their dancing and swaying and turned to stare and gawk at the two children.


Once again, utter silence.


Marie shrank and wilted like a flower petal, dashing behind Thomas and peeking out from behind his back. Thomas flushed crimson. He cleared his throat. "Um...he...hello, everybody," he stated nervously.


Hushed whispers arose from the appalled crowd.


"I'm...Thomas, and this is Marie. Where...where are the kids?" he asked, still quivering.


More silence.


Then they all burst out laughing. Some woman wiped tears from their eyes with their gloved hands. They hooted and hollered.


Finally, one man with a rodent-like mustache with a bald head in a gray suit parted the crowd to stroll in front of them, still grinning. "Well, Thomas, you must be on the wrong ship. This is a yacht, kid. A private party. 25 and over, sonny."


Thomas and Marie paled. "But...but..." stuttered Marie, thankful her vocal cords were still working.


The man shrugged. "Sorry, kid. You must be looking for the S.S. Shipton?"


"Yeah...isn't that what this is?"


"No! This is the Shiptonia!" cried the man, setting everyone else off laughing again.  


The music resumed and the began dancing resumed.


Marie slapped her palm against her forehead. "Mom must've dropped us off on the wrong ship!"


"You got that right, kid," murmured the man before disappearing into the crowd. Marie uttered a gasp as slowly, agonizingly, the floor began to rock under her feet. She shrieked and clung onto Thomas's arm.


"We're leaving, Tommy! We can't get off now!" she wailed.


Thomas brought her in for a hug, stroking her hair, softly twisting a lock around his finger, letting her sob into his shoulder until a wet spot showed on the green fabric. "It's okay," he soothed. "It's going to be okay. Do you hear me, Marie?"


She clutched tighter. "I never should've come. I never should've come..."


Suddenly, Thomas grew stiff. His pupils dilated and he stared off into space, the way they did whenever he had an idea. Marie frown and sniffed, before waving a hand in front of his face, which conjured no response. She tried snapping, and he was still motionless. She had to grab his shoulders and shake him and yell, "TOMMY!" before he finally snapped out of it.


A smile spread on his face. "Marie, I know what we're going to do today."


--


"Thomas, you're crazy!"


"Jasmine tells me that all the time. No biggie."


"Seriously, Tom! What will climbing on top of the boat do?"


"Well, we aren't allowed to stay inside, are we now? And if we can't go inside then we must go outside. And the only outside is either bottomless, dark saltwater with death vibes or the top of the boat. Your choice, Miss Sunflower."


Marie sighed and followed her half-cousin up the ladder to the roof of the yacht, mumbling curses under her breath. Sometimes, Thomas, I swear...


Thomas, above her, poked his head out and smiled. "C'mon."


Marie frowned and tipped her head but eventually- and very reluctantly- followed him to the roof.


The first thing she experienced was the noticeable rocking of the boat. She screamed and tripped, but quickly regained herself. She was offered a hand, but stubbornly refused to let Thomas help her up. "I got it."


Thomas shrugged, shoving his hand in his pockets. "Suit yourself." He turned his attention to in front of him.


As soon as Marie had stood up and captured balance, she saw why.


The sun was just beginning to set, so three-quarters of the burning star still dared to show, the other buried beneath the horizon. The sky was a dazzling shade of luminous pink mixed with other iridescent colors like orange the shade of her outfit. Clouds tinged with gold underneath floated by at a slow and steady pace. Seagulls cawed and they glided through the air. Marie giggled. She remembered when she had done that, too...however, that invention didn't go over so well. Poor Jazz could tell you that as she stormed away with an electrocuted body and spiked up frizzy hair with tiny volts of electricity shooting between the strands.  


Of course, the most amazing thing about the scene was the water.


It captured the beauty of it all, rippling it's ever-changing reflection, adding it's own sparkle by just the way the beams hit it, bouncing off the waves. It truly looked like the vast, touching-the-horizon river was full of glittering diamonds.


Marie's eyes widened. "Oh my God..."


A tiny smile tugged at Thomas's lips. Marie strode to a white-painted rail, sitting upon it with her legs dangling over the water. The wind whipped her hair away from her face, her bow faltering in the breeze. Thomas crouched next to her and folded his arms on it, raising an eyebrow at her, the zephyr also blowing his hair to it's own mercy.


"I'm waiting for your opinion, Miss Tommy-I'm-Scared-And-Don't-Want-To-Go."


"Incredible. Amazing. Awesome. Beautiful..."


"I think we've all learned a valuable lesson from this experience."


Marie turned. "And that would be?"


"Rule number one: Listen to your step-cousin. He's always right. Rule number two: When your step-cousin is wrong, refer to rule one."


Marie laughed and rested her head on his shoulder. "You're so full of yourself."


"Are you making a reference to rule one?"


Marie teasingly stuck out her tongue. "That, Tommy, is up to you."


She stood up and waltzed to the higher rail, resting her palms on it. "It's so quiet and peaceful up here."


Thomas joined her. "Something I never get with you around."


"Oh, shut up!" she giggled, giving him a slight shove. She blinked, the sun now half down. The wind picked up speed, and she lifted her arms up, then threw her head back and laughed. It was blowing her dress back so that it whipped around her legs. "I'm queen of the world!"


Thomas ran up behind her and threw his arms around her from behind. They both laughed, reenacting the famous scene from Titanic.


"Oh, and Tommy?" Marie turned her head toward the boy who's cheeks were a pale rose pink.


"Yeah?"


"I think I'm going to be swimming more from now on."


--


Marie kept true to her word. After they slithered off the boat, unseen, of course, and explained the incident to Marie's mother, they signed up for swimming lessons.


To Marie's fake dismay and Thomas's hidden enjoyment, they were placed in the same class.


Marie turned out to be the best swimmer the Danville Sunflowers had ever seen. (Thomas really, really hated the team mascot.) She could slaughter everyone else in the butterfly and backstroke. The closest competitor came at maybe a minute behind her, if they were both really fast and skilled and lucky.


Thomas found his strengths in the crawlstroke, although Marie could still beat him flat out. But, she could only beat him by ten seconds, so that was an enormous improvement.


Marie's water fear had dissolved into nothing. Ceased to exist. Thomas said it was because of him, well as Marie blamed it on the boat ride.


The swim coach had never seen such competitive people in her entire life. The hyper red-head girl and quiet boy always seemed to be at each other's necks, and cheating was apparently a family rule. In it to win it, the boy had said. However, the swim coach didn't say a word against it. The fired up competitiveness pushed them both to go faster and kill everyone else on the team at any stroke.


All she could do was cover her eyes with her cap and try to divert her gaze from the step-cousins, bickering fiercely one moment then laughing like old friends the next then shoving each other underwater as each tried to swim ahead of the other. What a strange family, the Flynn-Fletchers...


--


*Five years later*


"Come on, Marie!" "Ma-rie! Ma-rie! Ma-rie!" "Flynn! Flynn! Flynn! Flynn!" "Come on, sweetie honey-bunny, you can do it!"


Fourteen-year-old Marie flitted through the water like a dolphin, her heart a pounding base drum in her chest. It was the state finals. Her competition was gaining- fast.


She could hear them. The splashes behind her were creeping up on her, first completely behind her, then to her ankle, then to her knee. She wished she could stop and turn around in the enormous, fifteen- laned swimming pool, just for a second. To peer through the warm, crystal water to see how much farther her butterfly had to continue, and how far the was being chased by blood-thirsty opponets in swimsuits. But she couldn't- that would cost her time. Marie had made a promise. She always kept promises.


The cheers of the crowd were encouraging but really didn't physically help her go any faster in the warm water (especially her cheering mom). She winced silently, no sounds coming out clearly in the rushing water. There it was. There was the finish line. She was so close...


"Faster, Miss Sunflower. Don't forget the freaking boat ride. That wasn't for nothing, you know."


With a flash of brown and a familiar voice close to her ear, she put on a final burst of speed to propel herself to the end. She popped out of the water, the crowd going nuts. She gasped for air and yanked off her swim cap, her now long red hair plastered to her skull with water and slickness. She tore off her goggles which left faint raccoon marks over her ocean-blue eyes.


A boy her age, grinning, stood over the teen bobbing in the pool. "Well?"


"You expect a thanks?"


"Yes, yes I do, Sunshine."


"Thanks."  


"You're welcome."


"Come on- you didn't do squat. You just yelled at me to go faster."


The boy just smiled, crossing his arms and leaning back against the diving board. "Refer to rule number one: your step-cousin is always right."