Poolside Fox

The community pool job was supposed to be easy—just sit in the chair, blow the whistle when kids got too wild, and try not to melt in the summer heat. But there was nothing easy about watching your crush swim laps while you're stuck in a guard uniform that's two sizes too big.

"You're staring again," Maya whispered from the next chair over, scrolling through her phone with practiced indifference.

"Am not," I lied. "Just monitoring the zone. Professional lifeguard stuff."

"Right. Because fox-like stealth is totally in the job description."

I rolled my eyes. Maya had started calling me Fox last month after I'd panicked and literally bolted from the snack bar when Tyler showed up. Like, actual running. It was humiliating and amazing and exactly the kind of thing that happens when your brain short-circuits around someone.

Speaking of Tyler—his last name was actually Bear, which was ironically fitting given how he'd been lumbering through my thoughts all summer. He pushed off from the pool wall, cutting through the water with these smooth, powerful strokes that made everything look effortless.

"He's swimming toward your zone," Maya sing-songed.

"I hate you."

"Love you too, babe. Now blow your whistle or something. Look official."

I didn't blow the whistle. I just sat there, heart doing this weird fluttery thing, as Tyler pulled himself out of the water right in front of my chair. Water dripped from his hair, running down his neck, and I forgot how to form coherent thoughts.

"Hey," he said, shaking water from his ears like a dog. "You're Fox, right?"

I blinked. "I—what?"

"Fox. That's what everyone calls you." He smiled, and it was this genuine, slightly crooked thing that made my stomach do flips. "I'm Tyler. Tyler Bear."

"I know who you are," I said before I could stop myself.

His grin widened. "Oh yeah?"

Maya was laughing silently behind her hand. I was going to kill her later.

"You're on the swim team," I recovered, sort of. "Everyone knows who you are."

"Cool." He toweled off his hair, casual as anything. "So, you want to get food after your shift? There's this food truck by the park..."

I looked at Maya, who was now openly staring, her phone completely forgotten. I looked back at Tyler, still dripping pool water, still smiling like he hadn't just made my entire summer.

"Yes," I said. "Yes, I absolutely want to get food."

"Awesome." He pointed at me with his towel. "See you at six, Fox."

I watched him walk away, my heart pounding, and suddenly the too-big uniform didn't matter. Neither did the heat, or the job, or any of it.

"You're welcome," Maya called from her chair.

"Shut up," I called back, but I was smiling.

Sometimes being a fox meant running scared. Sometimes it meant being bold enough to stay exactly where you were and let something good find you.