Deeper (5 page)

Rain definitely is. I shouldn’t be watching her butt jiggle as she stomps off but I am. I hold my hands up and look at them. They’re throbbing a little from the long-ass hold it took to get all the way around the river, but they also seem to me to be the luckiest hands around right now.

I shouldn’t have teased her. She seemed pretty steamed already just from being touched. But sometimes she looks at me and I can just feel that she wants it too. That we both want it, even if we’re smart enough not to take it.

I sink back into the river where she pushed me to cool off. I stay low in it and creep around to the side that faces the lap pool where the guards are now doing basically frontal rescue drills. I prop myself on my elbows and watch her run it. She’s back in control, with her whistle in her mouth, convinced she’s an asexual force of nature to all of us.

Not to me. She’s all woman and that’s all there is to it. Now that I’ve held her for the second time I’m sure of it.

It’s fun to watch the guards fake drown. Some of them get really into it. I frown as Dan swims up and fake drowns right under her. “Only you can save me, Rain.”

I tense up, and prepare to get out of the water to deal with him. Before I’m halfway out, Rain handles it. She walks to the edge of the pool, and whacks him with a lifeguard tube. He pouts and laughs, but she says something stern and he finally goes back to his drill. She turns to another pair, but I see Dan make a face at her behind her back, and gesture to Mike in a way that makes my hands turn to fists. Only I get to harass my co-sup.

I get out on the deck and get in the water with the guards. I’ll keep them in line.

“What are you doing?” She glares down at me.

“I’m just gonna see if anyone needs help.”

She frowns, and I know she’s wondering if she has to get in too. She has a towel wrapped around her waist and doesn’t seem like she wants to.

“I’ve got it. I can see you’re more of a teller than a shower.” I wink at her and turn to the pair nearest me. Neil and Amy.

“Teller? Shower?” She glares at me. “Fine.” She throws the towel off. “Dan?”

“Yeah?” He turns back.

“Drown.”

He grins. “Sure.”

Oh no. That’s not what I wanted.

“Wait…”

“You’re right, we should be practicing too.” She whistles, points, pats the top of her head as if signaling another guard to watch her water while she goes for the save, and then jumps in with her tube with an oddly graceful motion. I’ve never seen anyone look so graceful going into the water.

She swims deftly to Nate, keeps the tube between them, then reaches under his arms and wraps him against her tube. Locked in her arms. She’s not watching me, swimming quickly to the edge of the pool with Nate. But I’m watching, and Nate’s smiling in a gross way to the rest of the guards. I look around and see several crude gestures that make me embarrassed for my own gender. I move over to her.

Nate is trying to say something. I push him out of the way.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey, what?” I turn and fix him with a glare and he stops immediately. We both know what he did, and he sulks away.

“What was that for?”

“Demonstration. And to keep my skills sharp.” She shakes her hair, spraying water in my face. “And to be a shower, not a teller.”

“I didn’t know you were so easily provoked into stupid things.”

She flips around. “And what was stupid?”

“You know what I mean. He was just creeping on you.”

“And you weren’t?”

She’s got me there. I’m trying to think of how to explain why it’s okay if I do it but not if they do it, but she cuts me off.

“I can’t help what people think of me while I’m working. But that’s on them, not me. I can’t not do my job just because of unpleasant men.”

“So you think he’s unpleasant. Am I unpleasant?”

She blushes but turns away and mumbles something under her breath.

“I’m sorry?”

“We’re done for today.” She holds out her ridiculous cartoon watch. I mean it would be ridiculous on a fifth grader. She cups her hands and yells the announcement to everyone, letting them know the time of the next training. Without even confirming with me.

“Wait a minute.”

“If you have a problem, you can take it up with Dave. He’s letting me set the schedule.”

Of course he is. But I let it go. I can tell, as she walks away, that at least for today, she’s completely tapped out of toughness. She’ll probably go home and curl up with a chick flick. I kind of want to ask if I can come too.

I groan as I open my locker and rummage for my shorts. I’m tired and even though it’s only the second day of training, I’m ready for the season to just start. I want the patrons, the noise and the tension and the knowledge that anything can happen at any moment. I jump in a changing room to get into my shorts.

I’m not looking forward to today. The guards will be over their nerves and behavior will be generally worse unless Rain and I get stricter to counteract it. Not that Rain could be much stricter.

I pull on my gray sup polo as I walk to my locker. It’s a bit tighter than it was last year. Either I shouldn’t have had it in the dryer or my gym addiction is getting out of hand again.

I’m already studying the guards, trying to figure out who is going to freeze and who is going to be fine. You can train them all you want and still have to jump in for them when they’ve locked up at their first save.

It’s a lot of stress. I get it. It’s not for everyone. But it is for people like Rain and me. My eyes find her quickly, her blondish-brownish-reddish hair bobbing as she directs the guards around her.

Thinking about seeing her made it easier to get out of bed today. Made it easier to go to work. Something exciting about it. I scratch the back of my neck as I head out to her, behind a group of guy guards.

I can hear Rain’s stern voice over the noise of the guards, and I’m shocked to see the guards actually listening and bustling around to help her set up.

I’m halfway to a smile when the conversation of the guys in front of me floats back to me.

“Gimme a month.”

“Rain? Nah, the ice queen thing is an act. Gimme a week.”

Anger spreads through me like fire, and I take a deep breath to calm down. I knew this would happen, I already warned Rain, but she didn’t listen. I clear my throat and they turn, eyes wide, then elbow each other and run ahead before I can overhear anything else. They’re just boys, but now they know I heard them. Maybe that will help.

Rain said she can handle herself. I hope so. I clench and release my hands until the tension subsides, leaving me with just a mild headache. I’m sure she’s used to being hit on. Besides, it was just manly posturing, stuff guys say but don’t have any intention of acting on. Hopefully. Stuff like that doesn’t help my already overprotective nature towards the girl guards.

She looks over as I approach, and I can tell she’s a little angry that I took my time coming over. She’s about to say something when her eyes drop to my shirt. She studies, then swallows, and seems to be trying to hold onto her anger. Maybe I’ll keep putting this shirt in the dryer. I don’t usually care for girls checking me out but when she does it I like it. I grin at her.

She clears her throat. She looks beautiful today. Hair up as usual in a tight ponytail. It’s such an interesting color, as if each hair is a different color, but from a distance it just looks light brown.

Her nose is long and thin, upturned at the end, and her eyes are round and wide. Her mouth is tightened into a line, because right now she’s stern. But I recall her bottom lip looking really juicy just the other day when we were in the lazy river.

She clears her throat again and I raise an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“You were supposed to come up with the first drill for the day.”

“I was?” I pretend to think it over, shift my weight to one hip, and enjoy the way she gets redder when she’s irritated.

“Yes.” She says it through gritted teeth, so I stifle a smile and turn to the guards.

“Guys, you know what’s coming.”

A collective groan moves over the group.

“Yup. A five hundred. Go.”

“You should do it too. Sups should stay in shape as well,” Neil says, moping past me and pulling off his shirt to reveal a chubby, post water polo body.

“Sure.” Any excuse to get in the water.

“Should I do it too?” Rain frowns and folds her arms.

“No. I think someone should stay out and supervise, make sure they’re actually doing theirs.”

“But will they respect me?”

I think of the boys betting to get her in the sack, and get a bit angry again. They aren’t going to respect her either way. I shrug.

“I guess we could go one after the other,” she says.

“You a swimmer?”

“No.”

“It’ll take too long.”

“We’ll go at the same time then.” She studies the lanes. “In this pool, is it twenty laps?”

“Yup. You gonna be okay?”

“We used to have to do two of these a week. In our wave pool. Much harder. I didn’t swim in high school but I’ve got endurance.”

She pulls off the guard polo and her shorts and struts over to the lap lanes in a tight red swimsuit. I put a finger under my collar and pull it out to let air in. It’s stuffy in here. Then I follow her and drop my shirt as well.

She stands behind a line of guards waiting to jump into the end lane. Several of them look at her curiously, but she doesn’t meet their eyes. I wonder how long she expects this cold act to work on them.

I pull an arm across my neck and feel the stretch through my shoulder, then switch and do the other. I love swimming, but I’ll feel it later if I don’t. I look over at Rain. She’s lowering herself into the pool, wincing at the coolness, and timing her entry into the line of swimmers. Not paying any attention to me. Whatever.

I watch the lane nearest me, and when the right moment comes, I dive in, perfectly spaced with the guards. I kick my feet a few times to come to the surface and take a breath, then put my head down to stroke. After a few strokes the rhythm and water take over and I’m not thinking of anything anymore but the sound of my breath and the feel of the water around me. Just how I like it.

It seems like forever before I notice fewer and fewer swimmers around me, the sound of splashing slowly going silent. It’s not possible, because I’m probably going faster than any of them. I used to be even faster, but I haven’t swum competitively since high school. How many laps has it been? I don’t want to stop. It’s addictive and I don’t want the end of the lane to come. I just want to keep reaching ahead and pulling myself forward, and when the wall does come, I somersault and kick off the other way against it, for another lap.

I’m about to do this again when a hand grabs my leg. I flail and stand, rubbing my eyes so I can see who dared interrupt me.

It’s Rain, and she’s not happy that she’s had to come in and pull me out. Behind her I can see the guards aligned, some holding towels, some heading for the dressing rooms, some smirking at me, some looking bewildered.

I got a bit carried away. It’s not the first time. I jump out of the water and grab a towel from a waiting guard, Ryan. He’s quiet, but has always been one of my best. We were on the swim team together in high school.

I nod as I take the towel, and he searches my eyes for a moment, the closest he has come to asking if I’m okay in the four years since Camille died. I nod at him, then wrap the towel over my shoulders and head to the dressing room. When I get there, I turn back and look through the glass to see Rain pulling herself out of the pool, fielding questions from the guards swarming around her.

I’m embarrassed she had to do that. Embarrassed she did it in front of the guards. Embarrassed for losing it and being unable to stop. Embarrassed for wanting her, or for wanting to let someone in again after everything that has happened.

How could I want a girl again, when the last one wrecked me so hard that I seek oblivion and can’t pull back when I’ve found it.

I’m not sure how to handle Knight right now. He’s currently storming off to the break room, towel over his shoulders, just a steaming mess of smoking hot trauma.

I’ve been too involved with my own issues to see anything that could be wrong with him.

I can’t forget the way he looked at me when I grabbed him to snap him out of it. He was so angry, so desperate, so much the opposite of the teasing, controlled Knight I’ve been working with so far. He looked liked I’d woken him up from a dream he didn’t want to wake up from.

What he was doing in that pool wasn’t normal. Several of the guards tapped me to warn me off from going in to stop him, told me he just sometimes likes to swim a bit longer, and it’s not a problem because the others have to change or eat anyway.

But I had to go in, and it wasn’t because he was slowing training. It was the manic look on his face when he came up to breathe, the too-hard way he pushed off the wall of the pool to kick turn. It gave me a creeped out, cold feeling, and I couldn’t help jumping in to stop him, no matter what anyone else said, no matter how normal they thought it was.

“Take ten minutes, cool off, and come back for river drills,” I say to the guards who are still standing around me like they don’t know how to function unless I tell them. They nod, some warily, and head over the break room where Knight disappeared moments ago. Hopefully he’s cooling off too.

The guy who handed Knight a towel when he got out comes over to me shyly. I wait for him to say something, but it takes him a moment. He has medium brown hair, probably shoulder length, pulled into a low ponytail, and shy green eyes that seem to peek at you even when he stares dead on. A startlingly beautiful face, when the hair at the sides of his face isn’t hiding it. He’s tall, maybe even slightly taller than knight, built similarly, but less tan.

He pulls gently on my arm, nods to the side for me to follow. I wonder why he’s not speaking. He sits and gestures for me to do the same. I look impatiently over at the guards to make sure they’re using the time well, then turn back to the guy beside me.