Love sucks balls. Big huge smelly goat balls. I miss Griffin so much, it’s a physical pain in my chest. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t even think properly.

Two days after he walked out of my apartment and my life, I pay my internship advisor a visit.

“Cosy, how are you?” Ms. Doobie gives me a slightly concerned, inquisitive smile.

It’s the look everyone wears when they see me. I’m exhausted and depressed, and even when I smile, I feel my sadness seeping from my pores, functioning as anti-attraction pheromones. Even Landon, who has done a great job of ignoring me since Griffin basically peed a circle around me, asked if I was okay today.

“I’m great.” My voice is flatter than a pancake.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah, totally.” I force a smile that probably makes me look insane. “I wanted to talk to you about my internship placement.”

“Of course, come on in. While placement announcements won’t be made for a couple more days, I can tell you there’s a good chance you’ll get your first choice.” She winks and leads me into her office.

“About that, I know I had New York as my top internship location, but I’ve done a lot of thinking and I feel based on my experiences so far, it would be a good idea to explore a different avenue. I know it might not be possible, but I’m interested in the cruise ship option, and I’d like to shift it to my number-one request.” I keep my hands clasped together and my feet firmly planted on the floor.

I’d be in the middle of an ocean, so there’s no risk of me doing something stupid, like seeking Griffin out because we’re in the same damn city.

Ms. Doobie does that thing people do when they want to parent you, but aren’t your parents. “Have you ever been on a cruise ship before?”

“Yes.” I’ve canoed and kayaked, and once I stayed on a houseboat for a night, so it’s almost the same.

“You’re sure you don’t want New York? I know they’d love to have you.”

“I’m sure. I’d like to see more of the world outside of my own country and I think this will be a great experience.” And getting off the continental US might help my poor broken heart heal.

She regards me for a few moments and then breaks out into a wide grin. “Well, then, I might have the perfect opportunity for you.” She shuffles some papers on her desk—it’s pretty messy, things stacked haphazardly all over the place—until she finds a brochure. “This came across my desk this morning. It’s very last minute but a fabulous opportunity on a very prestigious cruise line. It’s a six-week internship instead of four, though, and if you do well, the future job opportunities will be fabulous.”

“That sounds great, and the longer the better.” It lacks enthusiasm, so I follow up with a bright smile. “More practical experience is even better, right?”

“If it’s the right placement, definitely, and I think this would be a perfect fit. It’s funny, isn’t it? I was just wracking my brain, trying to come up with a student who would be a good match for this, and then you stop by.”

“Seems like a pretty lucky coincidence.” Thank you, karma, for not being an asshole today.

“It certainly does. Now, the only issue is that because of the length of the placement, it starts two weeks earlier, which means you’ll have to finish your final assignments and submit them online, or when you return. If you’re serious about this, I can get clearance from your professors without a problem, but you’d be leaving on Monday. I know you have a job, so I’m not sure if that’s going to be an issue for you since the turnaround time is so tight.”

“I can make it work.” Nev needs a job, anyway.

“Excellent. I’m so excited for you, Cosy. This is a fabulous opportunity, and I know you’ll do us all proud. I’ll email you the comprehensive overview of the internship and a list of the things you’ll need to pack. You have a busy week ahead of you!”

“Thanks, Ms. Doobie. I promise I’ll kick some serious internship butt.”

“I have no doubt.”

I leave her office knowing this is the right thing to do, even if it feels like I stepped all over my own heart.

* * *

My phone buzzes on my bed, bumping against my suitcase. I glance at the screen and my stomach twists and flips. Twenty-four hours from now, I won’t get these alerts. I’ve been warned that internet and reception can be spotty on the ship unless I pay the fifty extra dollars a week to tap into the Wi-Fi.

I can afford it, but it’s better for me to only have access when we dock at port based on the number of times Griffin has messaged me this week. I left clothes at his hotel, I have a toothbrush, hairbrush, underwear, a lip balm, a notepad, there as well.