The Lifeguard

The Splash

Just a note to say that I am English so I'll be using "Mum" and "colour" and so on :)

A seething mass of bright swimsuits. An open-air swimming pool, sunlight tracing glowing shapes on the bottom. It was summer, and the whole country was outside savouring the hottest day of the year. Zoom in closer, and you might notice a circle of girls, heads bobbing with excited conversation:

"Oh my god, he's so HOT!"
"Liza for god's sake, go talk to him."
"But what would I say?"
"Start with "Hi.""
"No!"
The girl arguing with Liza gritted her teeth while the other girls laughed. Her name was Stephanie- tallish, ginger, with a generous sprinkling of freckles peppering her features. And at the moment, they were twisted into an expression of acute frustration. Dubbed the professional shoulder-to-cry-on in her group, she had taken on the stressful role of relationship advisor- despite only having had one relationship in her nineteen years alive. The subject of their conversation was the pool's lifeguard: golden tan, tussled brown hair, and muscles so toned they seemed to pop from under his skin, he resembled a proud lion on his rock as he stared out silently across the pool.

"Well do something other than just standing there drooling." snapped Stephanie.
"Why would you want to do anything else?" laughed a voice behind her. Stephanie flipped her long hair around and glared.
"Who's side are you on Trace?"
Tracey grinned mischievously. Tall, slim, with an impressive afro and rich black skin that showed off her red tankini, she was utterly gorgeous, and she used it to her advantage. She currently had ten guys, some in other countries all over the world, following her ceaselessly like drugged lapdogs, and the girls had lost count of the number of times they had had to pick her up after passing out in a gutter, or at a frat-house, or once, on a stranger's rooftop. Nobody had ever worked out how that one had happened. After she had thrown up a couple of times, Tracey always promised it would be the last time. And it was never true.

Tracey giggled. "If you're not gonna talk to him Liz, then I call dibs."
Liza sighed sadly.
"I do want to, I just don't know what I'd say to him. I get all tongue-tied around guys."
"Oh my god! I have the best idea!" A chubby brunette with curly hair cut just above the shoulder squealed loud enough to make the whole group jump. This was Gabby, and the closest thing you could find to pure sunshine. Her constant cheery eagerness and blazing smile was enough to touch the coldest of hearts, even if she did act like a five year old at a birthday party. She clapped her hands excitedly. "You need to throw yourself into the pool!"

The other girls stared blankly. Liza looked nervous.
"But Gabby, I can barely doggy-paddle."
"I know! That's the point!"
Stephanie snorted. "And who's going to tell Liz's parents when she drowns?"
Gabby shook her head impatiently. "No no no, you don't understand. He's a lifeguard isn't he? If you look like you're drowning, he'll have to pull you out. Imagine it- glistening chest, strong arms holding you, his breath on your neck-"
"Ew Gabby!"
"-you might even get CPR if you're lucky!"
Tracey laughed. "And then you'll be tongue-tied in more than one way, Liz!"
Liza made a face and looked at her feet.
"I'm not sure guys. How am I supposed to look like I'm drowning anyway?"
"Simple." said Tracey. And with a sudden burst of speed, she ran at Liza and shoved her, screaming, into the pool.