Chapter Text
The first morning of summer break felt too bright. Shauna biked to the pool with her damp hair still twisted from the shower, the sun already pressing hot against her shoulders. The streets were mostly empty—everyone else still asleep, or pretending summer hadn’t started yet. The Wiskayok community pool came into view in stages: the chain-link fence, the faded blue sign, and a tall, red lifeguard chair rising above it all like a guard tower.
She coasted to a stop and leaned her bike against the fence, the metal already warm under her palm. The gate squeaked when she pushed it open. The air inside smelled like chlorine and wet concrete. The water lay still and glassy, not yet churned up by screaming kids or cannonballs. It was peaceful.
“Morning.”
Shauna startled hard enough to drop her bag.
A girl with tanned skin and wavy, blonde hair stood near the lifeguard office, one hip leaning against the wall, red swimsuit already on under a pair of loose athletic shorts. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, sunglasses perched atop her head. There was a smear of unblended sunscreen on her collarbone.
Shauna’s brain short-circuited for half a second. “Hi,” she managed.
“I’m Jackie.” She stuck out a well-manicured hand expectantly.
“Shauna.” She hoped Jackie couldn’t tell how sweaty she’d gotten from her bike ride over, and quickly rubbed them on her shirt before shaking her hand.
“You’re swim lessons, right?” Jackie asked.
Shauna nodded. “Yeah. The little kids. Nine o’clock till, like, three pm, I think..”
Jackie made a sympathetic face. “Brave.”
Shauna huffed a quiet laugh. “You’re lifeguarding?”
“Unfortunately.” Jackie’s mouth curved into a grin that made it clear she didn’t entirely mean it. “I like yelling at people for running.”
“That tracks,” Shauna said before she could stop herself.
There was a tiny beat of silence. Then Jackie laughed. “Oh my God. Rude.”
“Sorry.” Shauna felt heat creep up her neck. “You just… You seem very… authoritative.”
“Authoritative,” Jackie repeated, amused. “I’m putting that on my résumé.”
They stood there longer than necessary, neither quite moving to end the conversation. The pool pump kicked on somewhere behind them, a low mechanical hum that filled the quiet.
“So,” Jackie said, shifting her weight. “We’ve definitely passed each other at school. Like, a lot. You’re super familiar.”
“Yeah,” Shauna said carefully.
Jackie’s eyes lit up. “Yes. You’re always carrying, like, a stack of books.”
Shauna blinked. “You noticed that?”
“Duh,” Jackie said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re, like, a super genius or something.”
Shauna rubbed the back of her neck and ducked her head, embarrassed. “I’m trying to get into Brown.”
Jackie’s face lit up. “Holy shit! You are a super genius!”
Shauna let out a sharp laugh. “I suck ass at trig, though.”
“Who doesn’t? That class sucks ass.”
Shauna shrugged. “I don’t need math for my major, but it sucks to have a bad grade on my transcript.”
“You’re such a liar! You probably got an A,” Jackie said with a playful shove.
Shauna looked away, embarrassed. “I had an A minus.”
“Fuck off!” Jackie’s hazel eyes widened. “Those assholes are making me retake it this summer.”
A cough sounded from behind Jackie, who turned beet red as she turned around to meet the gaze of the pool manager, Ben Scott, who greeted them with a tight-lipped smile.
“Language, girls.” He gestured towards the front gate, where parents were beginning to drop off their kids for a day at the pool.
“Sorry!” Jackie squeaked.
He let out a short sigh. “It’s fine, just not when the kids are here, got it?” The two of them nodded quickly. “I see you’re already acquainted, which is good. You’ll be spending a lot of time together for the next few months.” He checked his wristwatch. “Shauna, get changed. Your shift starts in ten.”
Saying out a quick goodbye to Ben and Jackie, Shauna swung her bag over her shoulder and headed to the employee locker room. It was only marginally nicer than the public one and reeked of chlorine.
The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead. Shauna found an empty metal locker and shoved her bag inside, pulling out the navy one-piece the rec department had issued her. It was a size too big in the torso and a little too tight in the hips—apparently the universal uniform of summer jobs.
She changed quickly, tying her hair into a ponytail and slipping her flip-flops back on. From the pool deck, she could already hear the rising sound of kids: shrieking laughter, the slap of sandals on concrete, the metallic rattle of the gate opening and closing.
When she stepped outside again, the quiet morning had evaporated. The pool was alive now—bright floaties bobbing, parents shouting reminders about sunscreen, a kid already crying because someone had splashed him. Jackie sat high up in the lifeguard chair, one leg dangling lazily over the side as she scanned the water through her sunglasses.
For a moment, Shauna just watched her. From up there, Jackie looked even more… Jackie. Like she belonged on a lifeguard chair. Sun hitting the gold in her hair, whistle hanging around her neck, posture loose but somehow still commanding.
Jackie noticed her staring. She tipped her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and gave Shauna a look.
“You gonna start swim lessons or just admire the view all day?”
Shauna felt her face instantly heat. “I was not—”
Jackie grinned. “Relax, Shauna. I’m kidding.”
Shauna muttered something under her breath and hurried over to the shallow end where a cluster of small children stood nervously by the edge of the pool. A few of them were already wearing bright orange arm floaties.
“Okay!” Shauna clapped her hands, trying to sound more confident than she felt. “Everybody sit on the edge!”
Most of them listened, but one kid immediately jumped in. Jackie blew her whistle, and the sharp sound cut across the pool.
“No jumping until the instructor says!” she called down, voice suddenly carrying across the water with surprising authority.
Shauna looked up, startled. Jackie gave her a little shrug from the chair, like what can I say?
She bit back a smile and turned back to the kids. “Right. Like she said.”
The lesson started slowly, with a lot of kicking and a lot of splashing. One girl, Stephanie, refused to put her face in the water and clung to Shauna’s arm like a barnacle.
After about twenty minutes Shauna’s hair had completely escaped her hairtie and strands were sticking to her face. Her voice was already getting hoarse from repeating kick kick kick and hold the wall.
She tried to speak, but her voice cracked. “Okay,” she said with a clap of her hands, trying again. “Let’s practice blowing bubbles.”
From the lifeguard chair, Jackie was watching the whole disaster unfold with poorly concealed amusement.
When the lesson finally ended, Shauna climbed out of the pool and flopped onto the hot concrete beside the chair, exhausted.
Jackie leaned down slightly, taking off her sunglasses to look at Shauna.
“Congrats, Shipman. You survived.”
“Barely,” Shauna groaned.
“You let that kid drink the water.”
“I didn’t let him drink the water,” Shauna protested weakly. “He was just… commited”
Jackie snorted.
Shauna wiped water from her eyes and squinted up at her. “You think this is funny?”
“A little,” Jackie admitted.
Shauna shook her head, but she was smiling now. The sun felt warm on her shoulders, the noise of the pool loud but somehow comforting.
After a moment Jackie nudged her gently with her foot from the chair.
“So, Brown University,” she said casually. “That’s, like, an Ivy League school.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s insane.”
Shauna shrugged. “I mean… I might not get in.”
“You will,” Jackie said immediately.
Shauna blinked up at her. Jackie pushed her sunglasses back up onto her face and looked out over the pool again, like the conversation wasn’t a big deal.
“You’re clearly terrifyingly competent,” she added. “And you carry books everywhere.”
“That’s not a real qualification.”
“It is in my book.”
Shauna sat there for a second, heart doing something weird and floaty in her chest. Then a kid belly-flopped into the shallow end
Jackie’s whistle shrieked again. “Hey!” she shouted. “No diving!”
She glanced down at Shauna again, a quick crooked grin flashing across her face.
“See?” Jackie said. “Authoritative.”
They were interrupted by a small tangle of elementary schoolers waiting for their lesson to start, clad in rainbow swimsuits and wearing too-tight goggles.
“Are you the swim lady?” Asked one girl. Shauna could see the start of a sunburn spreading across her shoulders and made a mental note to offer her some sunscreen when the lesson started.
“I-um, yeah, I’m the swim lady–swim teacher. For five to ten-year-olds.”
“What’s your name?” Another girl asked, squinting.
“Shauna.”
The girl wrinkled her nose. “That’s a weird name.”
Behind her, Jackie made a strangled sound trying not to laugh. Shauna turned around slowly.
Jackie was pretending to adjust the straps on the lifeguard chair, her shoulders shaking.
“Do you need something?” Shauna asked flatly.
Jackie composed herself with visible effort. “Just making sure the swim lady is doing okay.”
Shauna narrowed her eyes. “You’re the worst.”
“Authoritative,” Jackie corrected.
Shauna rolled her eyes but turned back to the kids. “Okay! Everybody into the water—”
Before she finished the sentence, three of them cannonballed in. Water splashed up over the deck and soaked the front of her swimsuit, which had just dried off thanks to the relentless beating of the June sun above her. Behind her, Jackie burst out laughing. Shauna turned around again, dripping.
“Enjoying yourself?” she asked.
Jackie wiped under her sunglasses, still grinning. “So much.” There was something warm in the way she was looking at Shauna, though. Shauna felt her stomach do something weird. She turned back to the pool before Jackie could notice.
“Okay,” she said to the kids, clapping her hands. “New rule. No cannonballs unless I say so.”
One little boy raised his hand.
“Yes?”
“What’s a cannonball?”
From the chair, Jackie called out helpfully, “It’s when you jump really big and splash the swim lady.”
The boy’s eyes lit up, and Shauna groaned.
“Jackie.”
“Yes, Shauna?” She said with a grin.
“You’re fired.”
Jackie just grinned wider and blew her whistle.
⋆˚.༄
By the time the pool closed, the sun had turned thick and orange over the tops of the trees. The last few kids had been dragged out by their parents, sticky with sunscreen and melted popsicles. The gate clanged shut behind them, and the sudden quiet felt almost unreal after eight straight hours of shrieking.
The water, finally undisturbed, smoothed back into a blue mirror. Shauna sat on the edge of the pool with her feet dangling in the water, shoulders aching. Her hair had completely given up and now hung in a damp, tangled curtain down her back.
Jackie climbed down from the lifeguard chair with a small stretch, rolling her shoulders.
“God,” she said. “I can still hear that whistle in my head.”
“You’re the one blowing it,” Shauna pointed out.
“Exactly. Occupational hazard.”
Ben stuck his head out of the office. “Lock up the equipment before you leave.”
Jackie gave him a lazy salute. “Yes, boss.”
He disappeared again, and for a moment it was just the two of them and the hum of the pool filter. Jackie walked over and crouched beside the edge, trailing her fingers through the water near Shauna’s feet.
“First day review,” she said. “You didn’t drown any children.”
“Thank you.”
“You only let one of them drink pool water.”
“He was determined.”
“And you maintained a respectable level of authority.”
Shauna snorted. “You’re the authority expert.”
Jackie tilted her head thoughtfully. “True.”
Shauna pulled her feet out of the water and stood, wringing the hem of her shirt. “I’m gonna change before my bike seat burns my ass off.”
“Smart.”
They headed toward the employee locker room together, their flip-flops slapping against the concrete. The air inside the building was cooler, but it still smelled aggressively like chlorine and damp towels. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead again.
Jackie tossed her whistle onto the bench and started digging through her bag. “If I smell like this all summer, I’m gonna lose my mind.”
“You already smell like sunscreen,” Shauna said, opening her locker.
“That’s different. That’s hot.”
Shauna laughed under her breath and pulled on an oversized Wiskayok High t-shirt. She wriggled out of the one-piece, trying not to touch the cold tile more than necessary.
Jackie was halfway through pulling her hair out of its ponytail when she paused. “Wait.”
Shauna froze mid-motion. “What?”
Jackie squinted at her. “You’re the girl from the bleachers.”
Shauna blinked. “What?”
“At soccer games,” Jackie said slowly, pointing at her like she’d solved a puzzle. “You sit up in the top row with a book.”
Shauna felt heat creep up her neck. “Sometimes.”
“You don’t even watch the games.”
“I do watch the games.”
“Liar.”
“I glance up.”
Jackie laughed, pulling on a pair of denim shorts. “That’s insane.”
Shauna shrugged, tying her damp hair back again. “You guys win a lot. It’s not very suspenseful.”
“Wow,” Jackie said, mock offended. “Rude.”
Shauna slid her backpack over one shoulder. “You asked.”
Jackie put on shorts, tugging them down before leaning back against the lockers. For a moment, she just looked at Shauna.
“You know,” Jackie said after a second, “I always wondered what you were reading.”
Shauna blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Jackie shrugged, suddenly a little sheepish. “You always looked so into it.”
Shauna felt that weird, floaty feeling in her chest again.
“Mostly novels,” she said. “And some history stuff.”
Jackie nodded as if this were extremely impressive.
Shauna rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
They walked out of the locker room together into the warm evening air. The sky was now streaked pink and gold, and the pavement still held the heat of the day. Shauna unlocked her bike from the fence. Jackie leaned against the gate, watching her.
“You coming back tomorrow, swim lady?”
Shauna swung one leg over the bike. “I guess I have to.”
Jackie grinned. “Good,” she said.
Shauna hesitated for a second, one foot on the pedal. Then, trying to sound casual, “You?”
Jackie pushed off the fence and started walking backward toward the parking lot. “Unfortunately,” she said with a grin. Then she added, calling over her shoulder, “Wouldn’t want the kids drinking the pool water unsupervised.”
⋆˚.༄
By Thursday, the pool had settled into its summer rhythm. The mornings came in bright and loud—minivans pulling up one after another, parents unloading backpacks, towels, and screaming kids still sticky with breakfast. The air always smelled like sunscreen and chlorine and the faint sugary scent of popsicles from the snack stand that hadn’t even opened yet. By noon, the concrete deck was almost too hot to stand on without flip-flops, and by three, everyone was tired and sun-dazed.
Shauna had started to feel like part of the place. Like the pool had accepted her. She knew which kids would cry before even touching the water, which ones would cannonball the second her back was turned. She knew that Stephanie—the barnacle girl—only agreed to float if Shauna promised not to let go even for a second.
And she knew that if she glanced up at the lifeguard chair, Jackie would usually already be looking at her. Not staring exactly. Just… watching.
Sometimes with that amused little half-smile she got when Shauna was wrangling six splashing children at once. Sometimes pushing her sunglasses down her nose just enough to check that everything was under control.
It made Shauna weirdly aware of herself all the time–the way her voice sounded when she gave instructions, the way her ponytail kept sliding loose against the back of her neck, the way she tried to sound confident even when she wasn’t.
That afternoon, the heat felt heavier than usual. The air hummed with cicadas in the trees beyond the fence, and the surface of the water glittered painfully bright under the sun.
“Okay!” Shauna clapped her hands, trying to gather the attention of the chaos in front of her. “Everybody hold the wall!”
Eight kids splashed toward the shallow end edge, arms slapping against the water, goggles half-fogged and crooked.
“Today,” Shauna said, brushing damp hair off her forehead, “we’re practicing floating on our backs.”
Several children immediately began loudly explaining why they could not possibly do that.
“It’s easy,” Shauna promised. “You just lean back and let the water hold you up.”
One little girl clung to the edge and shook her head violently. “I’ll sink,” she said with a whimper.
“You will not sink.”
“I’ll sink and die.”
“You absolutely will not die,” Shauna said, trying not to laugh. She stepped closer and slid one hand under the girl’s shoulders.
“Look,” she said gently. “I’ve got you.”
The girl leaned back reluctantly, stiff as a board, eyes squeezed shut. Shauna supported the back of her head, guiding her into the water.
“There,” Shauna said softly. “See?”
A splash erupted behind her, then coughing. Shauna turned.
One of the younger boys, Caleb, she thought, the one with the dinosaur swim trunks, was thrashing a few feet away from the wall. His arms slapped wildly at the water, face dipping under and popping back up again, panic stretching his mouth open as he tried to breathe.
For half a second, Shauna’s brain froze. Everything seemed suddenly too bright. Too loud.
Jackie’s whistle split the air. The sound was piercing and immediate, slicing across the pool like an alarm.
“EVERYONE HOLD THE WALL!” Jackie’s voice rang out from above.
Shauna was already moving. The water churned around her legs as she crossed the short distance in two quick strokes. She reached Caleb just as his chin dipped under again and grabbed him firmly under the arms.
“Hey—hey, I’ve got you,” she said, pulling him toward the edge.
He coughed hard, choking on water, clinging to her shoulders with small, frantic fingers. She lifted him up onto the concrete ledge and steadied him as he sputtered.
“You’re okay,” she said quickly, heart hammering so hard she could feel it in her throat. “You’re okay. Just breathe.” Caleb coughed again, spitting pool water onto the deck.
A shadow fell across them. Jackie was suddenly there, having climbed down from the lifeguard chair so fast that Shauna hadn’t even seen her move. Her ponytail was half-loose now, a few strands stuck to her cheek, sunglasses pushed up into her hair.
“You good?” Jackie asked the boy, crouching down so her eyes were level with his.
He nodded shakily.
“Did you swallow water?”
Another nod. Jackie glanced up at Shauna, a question in here eyes.
Shauna gave a small breathless laugh. “Just scared.”
Jackie let out a slow breath she’d clearly been holding. “Okay.” She ruffled Caleb’s wet hair. “Hey, champ. Happens to everybody. You wanna sit out for a minute?”
Caleb sniffled and nodded again. Shauna helped him scoot farther up onto the deck, where the concrete was warm from the sun. Around them, the other kids had gone quiet, watching with wide eyes.
Jackie stood up and clapped her hands once. “Alright!” she called brightly, her voice snapping back into lifeguard mode. “Drama’s over. Back to the wall!”
The spell broke instantly. Kids splashed again, goggles readjusted, someone shouted about a noodle.
Shauna stayed standing in the water for a moment longer, adrenaline still buzzing through her arms. Jackie crouched beside her on the deck.
“You handled that perfectly,” she said quietly.
Shauna shook her head. “I froze.”
“Everyone freezes,” Jackie said easily.
Shauna let out a shaky breath. “Your whistle nearly gave me a heart attack.”
Jackie’s mouth curved. “It’s very authoritative.”
When the pool finally closed that afternoon, and the last sticky-fingered kids shuffled out through the gate, neither of them rushed to leave. The sky had started turning that deep syrupy gold that came right before evening. Jackie dug a crumpled dollar out of the pocket of her shorts and fed it into the battered vending machine outside the locker room. The machine whirred angrily. Then nothing happened.
“Oh, come on,” Jackie muttered, thumping the side with her palm.
Shauna leaned against the wall beside her, arms crossed, watching. “Careful,” she said. “Violence isn’t the answer.”
Jackie hit it again, and with a loud clunk, a packet of peanut butter crackers tumbled down the metal spiral. Jackie held up her hands triumphantly.
“See? Authority.”
Shauna snorted. Jackie grabbed the packet and handed it to her, their fingers brushing for the briefest second. Shauna felt the spark of it, like static.
They sat down on the warm concrete outside the locker room, the pool behind them finally quiet except for the steady hum of the filter. The surface of the water reflected the sky, streaked with orange and pink. Shauna opened the crackers and handed half to Jackie.
“You were really calm earlier,” Jackie said after a minute.
Shauna shrugged, chewing. “I babysit my cousin a lot.”
“That explains it.”
“What explains you?” Shauna asked.
Jackie leaned back on her hands, stretching her tanned legs out in front of her. “My mom made me take literally every safety class that exists,” she said. “CPR, lifeguarding, first aid. She’s intense about it.”
Shauna smiled down at the pavement. “That tracks.”
For a while they just sat there, the quiet between them easy in a way it hadn’t been a few days ago. Then Jackie nudged her shoulder.
“You know something?”
“What?”
“I thought you hated me.”
Shauna nearly inhaled a cracker. “What?”
“At school,” Jackie said. “You never talked to me.”
“You never talked to me either.”
Jackie pointed at her accusingly. “You always looked like you were judging everyone.”
“I was reading.”
“Judging and reading.”
Shauna rolled her eyes.
“I assumed you thought I was dumb,” Jackie added, more quietly.
Shauna blinked at her. “That’s ridiculous.”
“You’re trying to get into an Ivy League school,” Jackie said.
“So?”
“I failed trig.”
“That doesn’t make you dumb.”
Jackie studied her face for a second, like she was checking whether Shauna meant it. Then she smiled slowly.
“Well,” she said. “Good.”
The sun dipped lower behind the trees, the light turning the empty pool coppery and soft. Jackie leaned her head back, closing her eyes for a moment.
“You know,” she said casually, “if we’re both gonna be here all summer…”
Shauna raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“We’re probably gonna have to become friends.”
Shauna tried to keep her voice neutral. “Probably.”
Jackie bumped her shoulder again. “Good thing you don’t hate me.”
Shauna smiled. “Good thing you don’t hate me either.”