Poolside Confidential

My summer job as a lifeguard wasn't exactly the glamorous gig I'd pictured. Instead of saving lives and looking heroic, I spent eight hours a day playing spy from my elevated chair, watching the same group of popular kids recreate their Instagram-worthy moments in the shallow end. They were the kind of people who made everything look effortless, while I sat there with my whistle and my anxiety, calculating how many seconds it would take to rescue someone if they actually started drowning.

The real drama started when Marcus's dog — this chaotic golden retriever named Bandit who belonged to the entire neighborhood collectively — discovered he could squeeze through the fence and patrol the pool perimeter like he owned the place. Bandit became my only genuine companion that summer, bringing me tennis balls and dead birds like offerings. The popular kids thought it was hilarious that the dog preferred hanging out with the 'lifeguard weirdo' over them.

'Bro, even the dog knows you're the real MVP,' Marcus said, sliding up to my chair during his break. His hair dripped pool water onto the concrete, creating tiny puddles around my chair. This was the same Marcus who'd ignored me all through freshman year, but summer changed things. Or maybe he was just bored.

'Maybe he just likes the view from up here,' I shot back, instantly regretting it. Why did I always say the wrong thing?

But Marcus just laughed. 'Nah, he's got good taste.' He sat on the edge of my stand, letting his legs swing. 'My friends think they're being subtle spying on you from the diving board, by the way. They're wondering why you transferred to our school last year and didn't try to join any cliques.'

I almost dropped my whistle. 'They're what?'

'Full-on spy mode.' Marcus bumped my shoulder with his wet one. 'But I told them you're probably just over trying to impress people. Which is kinda cool, honestly.'

Bandit chose that moment to shake himself vigorously directly next to us, spraying water everywhere. Marcus didn't even flinch — he just laughed and started petting the dog's wet fur.

'So,' he said, 'you want to grab food after my shift? Just as friends. Unless you're still conducting surveillance on our friend group from up here.'

I looked at my perfect pool, the popular kids who suddenly seemed less intimidating, the dog who'd somehow become my social catalyst, and the boy who'd noticed me when I was certain I was invisible.

'I think I'm done spying,' I said. 'Let's go.'