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On days as bright and warm as this one, the entire town of Hawkins, Indiana can be found at the community pool. By noon today, every square inch will be filled by brats and their parents, Billy predicts. And unfortunately for him, that’s when his shift is set to start. However, in a rare moment of optimism, Billy reminds himself of why he took the job in the first place: money and showing off. Being a lifeguard was the only job available that let Billy sit and be shirtless—the perfect job!
“Hey, Billy.” The young man manning the snack bar, who could be no more than three years older than Billy, snaps his fingers. “What did I say about smoking near the food?”
Billy grumbles under his breath, yet puts the cigarette out nonetheless. He shifts in his uncomfortable wooden stool, shirt still on. Sure, the stool is the most painful thing to sit on in the world, but at least it’s beside the large fan keeping the square-shaped room cool, so Billy remains seated.
“If you do it again I’ll have to write you up,” warns the young man. Billy knows that won’t actually happen—not when he brings in so any people to catch a glimpse of him. Nonetheless, Billy forces out a half-assed apology, and the shack is filled with only the whirring of the fan once more.
Looking out the shack’s window, Billy catches a glimpse of a familiar face from school, his eyes glinting with mischief as his lips tug into a smirk. With the pool just recently opened, only you and a handful of others occupy the water. Just as quickly as he notices you, you dive back underwater, swimming out of his sight.
“How long until lifeguards change?” Billy asks, craning his neck to try and find you. His hands grip the stool tightly when he nearly topples over, though his coworker does not seem to notice nor care.
“Probably not for a good couple of hours. Why?”
“I’ll be right back.” Not waiting for a reply, Billy jumps down from the stool, exiting the shack and into the blinding sun. He removes his shirt, tossing it into a nearby folding chair to return to later.
He catches you doing the backstroke, approaching one of the walls of the pool. He approaches with a leisurely pace, as though he’s in no rush to see you. As far as everyone else knows, he’s not. To the rest of his classmates, you’re just a stranger. That’s how the game works, anyways.
The back of your head collides with the wall. He chortles, and you flip back onto your legs with fingers pushing back wet hair. Resting your arms on the poolside, you give him a testing gaze. “And who are you to laugh at me, stranger?”
He catches a glance at your swimsuit, which happens to be his favorite of your collection. Billy can’t help but wonder if you wore it knowing you’d catch him today.
“Wasn’t laughing,” he defends, smirk plastered to his face with smug eyes. “Just admiring your form.”
“Oh, is that so?” You rest your chin on your hands, gazing up at Billy. “And what about it?”
“It’s alright, I guess.” The look in his eyes tells you it’s more than alright. “I teach swimming lessons, you know.”
“Do you now?”
He hums. “I know all the moves. I could help you—first lesson free.”
“That’s a pretty good offer to give to someone you just met,” you retort.
“I’m feeling generous.”
You shrug. Your eyes sparkle. “I don’t think I need lessons. I’ve been swimming as long as I can remember.”
His smirk widens into a grin. “Then maybe you can teach me some moves.”
“Come here. I’ll teach you one right now.”
He squats down closer to your level, and you push your upper body up. Leaning in closer to meet you, on hand reaches out to touch your hair. Though Billy expects a kiss, you grasp his wrist, tugging him with all your strength. He tumbles into the pool, followed by a large splash. You laugh uncontrollably, even after he resurfaces, gasping for air with wide eyes.
“C’mere you little—” The words are lost in the sound of splashing as he lunges for you, hoisting you up by your waist and into the air. You squeal, grasping his forearms in a desperate attempt to pry them off you.
“Put me down, Billy!”
“Oh, so you know me then?” You can practically hear his smirk. “I thought I was just a stranger.”
“If you drop me I will kill you, you ass!”
He falls backwards, taking you with him. Heather blows her whistle, only for it to fall on deaf ears. As soon as your body hits the water, Billy unwraps his arms, allowing you to swim free. For the first time in ages, the bad boy act and usual smugness melts away, leaving Billy genuinely laughing.
He swims towards you, and you allow him to rest his chin on your head.
“I’ll get you back for that,” you warn. He hums, knowing full well you won’t.
The moment ends abruptly at the sight of many familiar moms and their children pushing past the pool’s chain link fence, the door swinging open. You catch Nancy Wheeler’s mom and her youngest daughter, though with the amount of makeup on her face, one can assume Mrs. Wheeler has no intention of swimming today.
“She looks like a clown,” you mutter, and Billy chuckles softly.
“I’ve got to go dry off,” he explains. “Need to look my best for the lifeguard change.”
“Yeah, so all the moms can ogle you,” you scoff.
He presses his lips against your jawline when the moms are too distracted paying for entry to notice. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“You better.”
He climbs out of the pool with little effort, dripping as he approaches the moms with a bright (and fake) smile. In the distance, as you turn to look up at Heather, you hear Billy call out, “Mrs. Wheeler! Didn’t think I’d see you today!”
Heather gives you a knowing look as she glances at Billy, saying nothing.