The Pool Tower Secret

From my lifeguard tower, the **water** shimmered like liquid diamond under the July sun. Below, the neighborhood kids screamed and splashed, but my attention kept drifting toward the chain-link fence where the varsity **baseball** team practiced. Specifically, toward Marcus in left field.

"You're being weird again," said Jasmine, climbing up to sit beside me. She'd been my best **friend** since seventh grade, before everything got complicated and before I started looking at her older brother like, well, like I was looking at Marcus now.

"I'm not being weird. I'm observing. Professionally."

"You're literally **spy**-ing on him from a lifeguard tower. That's creepy, even for you." She smirked, knowing she'd caught me.

I shrugged. "It's a vantage point. That's all."

The truth was, Marcus had noticed me yesterday. Waved. My heart had done this entire gymnastics routine that was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. Meanwhile, I was still carrying around this massive secret crush like it was some sort of emotional **bear** on my shoulders—heavy, hairy, and impossible to hide.

"Hey," Jasmine said softer now. "He's looking over here."

I froze. Should I wave? Pretend to be focused on the pool? Suddenly my heart was pounding harder than when I'd almost failed my CPR certification.

"Go talk to him, you coward."

"In front of everyone? At my JOB?"

"Since when do you care what people think? Besides," she grinned, "I'll cover your chair. Go."

So I climbed down, heart hammering, and walked toward that fence. Because sometimes you have to dive into the deep end, even when you can't see the bottom.