Bull in the Deep End

Marcus's grandmother always said he was as stubborn as a bull, but right now, floating in the community pool during summer break, he felt more like a sinking stone. The swim test for junior lifeguard certification was in twenty minutes, and his stomach was doing backflips.

"You got this, bro," said Tyler, sliding his goggles down. "Just don't think about it."

Easy for Tyler to say. Tyler was the type who made everything look effortless — swimming, talking to girls, existing. Marcus was the type who got spinach stuck in his braces during first period and didn't find out until lunch.

Speaking of spinach... Marcus's little sister Emma had somehow smuggled their family's golden retriever, Buster, into the pool area. The dog was currently losing his mind near the fence, barking at everything that moved.

"Your dog's going to get us kicked out," some girl Marcus didn't know said, but she was smiling. "He's cute though."

"Buster!" Marcus hissed. The dog, sensing his humiliation, chose that exact moment to squeeze through a gap in the fence and bolt toward the pool area, sending lawn chairs scattering like bowling pins.

The lifeguard blew her whistle. "DOG! NOW!"

Marcus's face burned hotter than the pavement in July. He scrambled out of the pool, dripping wet, and chased Buster through the grounds, the entire junior lifeguard cohort watching. He finally tackled the dog near the parking lot, both of them muddy and panting.

"Nice move, Bear," Tyler called out. Marcus hated that nickname — supposedly it was because he could bear anything, but really it was because he'd once worn a bear costume to school on the wrong day.

But something shifted. Marcus caught the girl from earlier suppressing a laugh, not at him, but with him. There was something kind of amazing about how uncool he'd just been. How completely, spectacularly awkward.

He walked back to the pool, Buster miraculously calm now, trotting beside him like nothing had happened. Marcus's heart was still racing, but the panic had dissolved into something else.

"Alright," the instructor announced. "Junior lifeguard swim test. Lane one. Go."

Marcus dove in. The water felt different now — cooler, cleaner. His strokes weren't perfect, but they were real. He wasn't thinking about spinach or bull-headedness or being a bear. He was just swimming. For the first time all summer, he wasn't worried about sinking.

Sometimes the worst moments were just the setup for something else. And maybe — just maybe — being the guy who chased his dog through a parking lot wasn't the worst thing to be.