Guard Duty

The red whistle hung around my neck like a neon sign announcing I was a total fraud. First day as a lifeguard at the community pool, and I was basically drowning in imposter syndrome. The other guards, varsity swim team types with actual muscles, kept sending looks my way. Or maybe I was just paranoid.

"New guy, you're on rotation," Maya said. She was gorgeous in that terrifying way seniors are, like she knew secrets about the universe I wouldn't learn until college. "Don't let anyone die on your watch."

"Got it," I managed, keeping it cool. Whatever that meant.

I climbed into the elevated chair, trying to own it. The plastic seat was basically roasting my legs. Below, the pool churned with middle schoolers having way too much fun. My stomach did that thing it does when I'm anxious — knots, like I'd eaten something questionable.

Speaking of questionable — that's when I remembered the spinach smoothie my health-phase mom had forced on me that morning. I'd felt something green stuck in my teeth for like three hours. Please tell me I hadn't spent my entire morning talking to people with salad in my braces.

I pulled out my phone to check my reflection in the black screen and — nope, no spinach visible. Small victories. But then I caught movement near the deep end. Some kid was struggling, going under.

I blew my whistle. It sounded like a dying duck. But I was already moving, dropping down the ladder, grabbing the rescue tube. The other guards were already in motion, Maya diving in smoothly while I was still fumbling with my stupid uniform hat that kept sliding over my eyes.

By the time I got there, Maya had the kid. He was coughing but fine. Everyone was staring, not at the rescue, but at me. My hat had fallen into the water. I was standing there like I'd never gone swimming in my entire life.

"Nice hustle, new guy," someone said, and I realized they weren't being sarcastic.

"You reacted fast," Maya told me later, dripping pool water everywhere but somehow making it look intentional. "That's what matters."

Maybe I wasn't completely hopeless at this lifeguard thing. Maybe I'd even figure out how to keep my hat on my head eventually. Stranger things had happened.

Probably not by much, though.