Chapter Four
T he Plunge? The pool’s nickname reminded Stacey of toilets. Urinal cakes and chlorine muted only by mildew. The stench burned Stacey’s nostrils when she pulled open the squeaky lobby door. The lights were off. She hoped she hadn’t written down the wrong time.
Stacey peeked through a small window in a door to her right. Nothing in the girl’s locker room had changed since she’d last been there several years before. The cracked cement floors were covered in standing puddles of water. There were no doors on any changing stalls and the cinder block walls were peeling. An identical door across the lobby said BOYS, but before she could see what that locker room looked like, she heard someone whistling.
Stacey turned to look through the plate glass window into the dim interior of the main pool office. The guard shack. Coach Bob entered through the back door and the bright sunlight from the outdoor pool deck flooded the dark office interior. Bob Smith was a PE teacher, the varsity baseball coach, and he ran the pool every summer. The deck door banged closed behind him and the space was again shrouded in darkness.
Bob flipped on the guard shack lights, then noticed Stacey waiting in the lobby. He smiled and opened the door for her. Wearing his standard Mesa Valley High School T-shirt and ball-cap uniform, Bob’s permanent farmer’s tan peeked out from navy athletic shorts.
“Hey, Stacey! Early-bird gets first pick.”
“First pick of…what?” Stacey asked.
Other voices boomed into the lobby. There were bursts of laughter and a big guy with shaggy, sun-bleached hair and a goatee yelled out, “I call hosing the deck!” The group filed past Stacey without acknowledging her.
Stacey slithered into the room behind everyone else and shrank against the wall.
When she was a kid, the guard shack seemed like a secret haven where mysterious, cool lifeguards ate take-out and were the gatekeepers of band-aids and lost goggles. Now, she wouldn’t want to walk barefoot on the filthy, threadbare carpet. A few of the plywood locker doors hung crooked, and the beige and brown plaid couch looked like it had been pulled from a dumpster.
“Every morning, we divvy up the jobs before we open the pool,” Bob told the group as they settled into seats. “Today you learn what those jobs are. Mark, you have seniority; sure, you can hose the deck. But first you’ve gotta show ‘em how to get the covers off, and lane lines in and out.”
Mark, the big guy with the goatee, was nodding, his sunglasses still on. He wore a faded and stained City of Mesa Valley logo T-shirt and a large-brimmed thatched hat hung down his back. He wore red trunks. Panicking, Stacey looked around the room. Only one other guard seemed to be wearing a red swimsuit. Fortunately, she wasn’t the only one in street clothes.
“No way am I cleaning bathrooms,” a lean brunette girl said, crossing her arms. Perched on the edge of the couch cushion, she looked as though she was posing for a magazine, and above menial labor. Stacey recognized her. She’d just graduated and ran track. She had thighs with huge oval muscles on top that created perfect definition along the side, like racing stripes.
The lobby door swung open. “I’m here!” a voice yelled out. Jessie entered the guard shack panting and leaned his skateboard against the desk. Stacey’s stomach flipped.
“Thank you for joining us, Jessie,” Bob said. “Have a seat.” Bob turned his attention back to the track star on the couch. “Melissa, all the guards take turns cleaning the bathrooms. Taking care of this place is part of your responsibility.”
Jessie crossed to the other side of the room, flipped a folding chair around and sat down backwards. Stacey sunk further into the corner, hoping she was out of his line of sight.
“It’s not so bad. We mostly only hose it out and take out the trash,” Mark said. “Don’t forget your flip flops and rubber gloves.”
Melissa narrowed her dark, stormy eyes, sneering at him.
“This is as good a time as any to establish the most important aspect of working here,” Coach Bob said, standing in the center of the room. “I expect you all to work as a team to keep our facility clean and safe. If anyone isn’t pulling their weight, you will address that as a team as well. That includes ALL cleaning duties,” he said, looking in Melissa’s direction. Then he turned toward Jessie. “And being on time for each shift.” He moved to stand beside the desk. “Now, let’s go around and introduce ourselves. I’m Bob. I’ve coached and taught at the high school for twenty-five years and been pool manager during the summers for the last ten. This is Mark, assistant pool manager. You’re up, Sport.”
“Yup, I’m Mark,” he said, moving the sunglasses to the back of his neck. “This is my third year at The Plunge and I’m lucky enough to work here year-round. Just think, if you become a college dropout, you too could be living the dream like me.”
Everyone else laughed. Stacey nervously chuckled along. Is he serious?
“Funny guy,” Coach Bob said, clapping Mark on the shoulder. “Mark handles pool maintenance for the swim team September through May. If I’m called away, Mark’s in charge.”
Mark pulled the straw hat onto his head and slumped back into the office chair, both feet up on the desk. He aimed finger guns at a petite girl in a red athletic two-piece.
“Hi, I’m Tiffany!” She bounced on her heels and smiled brightly, her short, white-blonde curls swaying. She was like a Drew Barrymore clone. “I know most of you, but…” Tiffany looked at Stacey.
The other guards gazed in Stacey’s direction. She stood taller and sucked in her stomach.
Tiffany went on. “I’ve been swimming at The Plunge my entire life. I was varsity swim captain and this is my second-year lifeguarding.” Tiffany looked around the room. “It’s going to be such a great summer!” she added, like she was the official Plunge mascot.
Stacey wondered what brand Tiffany’s bathing suit was and whether the other girls would also be in bikinis. Before she went home, she needed to find a way to ask Tiffany about where she’d bought it.
“Mark and Tiffany will be training the rest of you over the first week, until you’re all up to speed,” Bob said. “And of course, if there’s anything these two veterans can’t answer, then come to me.”
Melissa stood, pursing her lips. She had glowing skin the color of damp sand and her long dark hair reached almost to her waist. “I’m Melissa Phillips. I’m attending ASU in September on a full track scholarship. I’ll study business and in four years I’m going to law school to become a private practice corporate lawyer.” Her tone was serious and she lifted one eyebrow as she spoke. With her hands on her hips, her cropped tank and micro denim shorts revealed her taut abs. “I’ve never been a lifeguard before, but the past two summers, I worked at Baskin Robbins. I can still use my discount, if anyone’s interested.”
Stacey wished she liked running if it meant she could eat Baskin Robbins regularly and still have zero body fat, like Melissa. She figured the running and the perfect body must be genetic anomalies.
“Are your parents those Pakistanis who work at the Baskin Robbins in Red Hills?” the guy seated on the couch asked.
Melissa glared at him. “We’re NOT from Pakistan,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “We’re Indian, you dumbass. And we OWN three stores, actually.” She kept her eyes locked on his as she sat back down.
“That’s a very generous offer, Melissa. Thank you,” Bob said before he waved his hand to the guy seated next to Melissa on the couch.
The guy cleared his throat, then leaned back and pulled on the end of his shorts. “Hey, I’m Chad,” he said without getting up. He had a dimple in his right cheek and a crooked smile. He reminded Stacey of Christian Slater. “I play soccer. I was in ASB. I’m going to Cal State in the fall. It’s my first summer guarding and it’s great to be here.”
Despite how friendly and easygoing Chad seemed, the girl on his other side was leaning away from him onto the arm of the couch. She was petite, busty, and biting the inside of her cheek, looking up at the ceiling. Her nose and cheeks were covered in faint freckles. She looked almost as uncomfortable as Stacey felt. Chad put his hand on the girl’s thigh, saying, “And this is Desiree.”
Desiree flared her nostrils. Whatever was going on, there was some serious sexual tension between them. Desiree stood, unsuccessfully tugging up on the spaghetti strap of her babydoll dress, which emphasized her significant cleavage and thin legs. Stacey found herself panicking on Desiree’s behalf that one of her straps could break, which the guys in the room were probably attempting to cause through Jedi mind-tricks.
Crossing her arm over her waist, she held her strap with her other hand. “I’m Desiree,” she snapped at Chad, then blinked several times and smiled around the room. “I also just graduated and this is my first summer lifeguarding as well. I was in ASB with Chad and I’m going to USC.” Desiree sat, pulling her dress under her, and smiled sweetly. When Chad reached for her thigh again, she swatted his hand away, then crossed her arms, leaning back into her corner of the couch.
Everyone’s attention shifted to Jessie.
He’d been held back at some point early on, so he was almost nineteen. A bicep tribal tattoo peeked out from under his T-shirt. Stacey had heard a rumor that he referred to it as his crown of thorns.
“Hi! I’m Jessie,” he said, flipping his wavy, sun-bleached hair out of his face. “I’m finished with high school now, too. I actually guarded last summer at the Y in Red Hills, but that’s an indoor pool. It totally sucked being inside all summer, so it’s awesome being here. I really don’t know what I’m doing this fall, but it will for sure involve a half-pipe and my guitar.”
Stacey fixated on how Jessie’s folded arms made his triceps stand out, and how the hairs on his forearm were golden from hours in the sun. Her eyes traveled up and found Jessie grinning, staring directly at her. Stacey jerked her gaze away.
Six more pairs of eyes watched Stacey expectantly.
“Batter up, Chapman,” Bob said.
Stacey sucked air through her teeth and pushed away from the wall. Pulling her long blonde hair to the front on one side, she combed through it with all ten fingers. “Uh… hi. I’m Stacey. Um… I’m a junio… sorry, I mean… I guess, I’m a…senior…now. And, yeah, this is my…first time, too.” She could feel her whole face flush bright red, and felt like there was a giant boulder in her stomach. “My… my first-time lifeguarding, I mean.”
The expressions of the other guards ranged from dumbfounded shock to pure pity given the level of loser Stacey had exposed herself to be. She wanted to crawl under a rock and die.
“Okay,” Bob said, in a gameshow-host voice, clapping his hands together without skipping a beat. “Let’s start learning the ropes!”
Bob played the Beach Boys over the PA’s tinny speakers through a dusty old stereo. The crew took turns pulling the covers off the pool, put a few lane lines in, and learned how the valves in the equipment room worked. They used metal grabbers and buckets to collect Hubba Bubba wrappers and soggy socks from under the bleachers. Then Mark showed them the bottles in the chemical closet for the pool and a pink powder antibacterial substance to shake across the floor of the bathrooms to supposedly disinfect them.
“Never get this crap in your eyes,” Mark said, tapping the side of the bottle. “It burns like a mother!”
Stacey tried to imagine how Mark found that out, and she instinctively backed away. They all left the chemical room and Bob handed his keys to Tiffany to lock the door.
“Finally, before we open each day,” Bob said, leaning against the railing of the diving board and pointing toward the water, “someone has to dive down to the deep-end drain and clear it of any debris.”
Stacey peered over the edge of the pool and grimaced at a messy pile stuck at the bottom of the deep end.
Jessie, in board shorts and a puka-shell necklace, kicked off his flip-flops and threw his T-shirt aside, saying, “I got this.”
Stacey surged with excitement seeing Jessie’s bare chest for the first time, and the way his shorts hung just low enough to reveal where his tan ended.
Running off the edge of the pool, Jessie kicked his feet into a gainer flip, arching his back and grabbing his ankles behind him. His body rotated in a full circle before entering the water feet first, and he immediately dropped to the bottom of the pool.
His small splash sprinkled water onto Stacey’s shins and feet. She was in awe of his confidence and how perfectly he executed the flip without even using the diving board.
A few seconds later Jessie came up with a fistful of leaves, strands of long dark hair, and a couple of Band-Aids. He dropped the mess on the side of the deck in front of Melissa’s feet like a cat’s hairball and she leaped back from the pile, disgusted.
Every muscle in Jessie’s arms flexed as he pushed himself out of the water, and Stacey’s heart raced. Oh. My. God. With her hand at her mouth and a fingernail between her teeth, her gaze followed droplets sliding over goosebumps on his torso and clinging to the fine hairs forming a trail above his drawstring. Holding her breath, with her little finger touching the tip of her tongue, she focused on the tight nubs of his small, purplish-red nipples, and she felt overwhelmed by a desire to reach out and touch them.
“Whew,” Jessie said, shaking his hair out and pulling his shorts away from his skin. “Chilly!”
Stacey didn’t even blink as the water from his hair sprinkled her cheeks. Then he caught her staring at him. Quickly, she turned away, pulling her hand from her mouth, and reached behind her back to grab hold of her other arm.
“Impressive,” Bob said, laughing. He picked up the pile with a trash grabber and dropped it into a bucket. “But next time use gloves, okay, Jess? We’ve pulled some pretty nasty things out over the years.”
Mark tossed Jessie’s T-shirt at him and shook his head.
The crew returned to the guard shack and went over the first week’s schedule. Tiffany and Mark were working practically non-stop, with the rest of the guards filling in the second and third posts until everyone was trained. Melissa was up first, and removed her tank top and shorts without hesitation, revealing her miniscule red two piece beneath. She’s got a red bikini, too?
Stacey didn’t want to admit to Gabe how right she’d been about the fit-ness of the other guards. Tiffany and Melissa had perfect bodies. And Desiree appeared to have curves in all the right places. Stacey’s first shift would be the next afternoon, so she was grateful she had another day to resolve her swimsuit worries. She felt giddy, though, when she saw her name next to Jessie’s on the schedule for Tuesday’s night swim.
“That reminds me,” Bob said, clearing his throat and turning to grab a stack of flyers on the desk. “Anyone in need of appropriate lifeguard gear, a warehouse in Riverside is offering a 30% discount.”
Relieved, Stacey took a flyer. Chad, Desiree, and Jessie each grabbed one as well. From the address and hours listed in the corner, Stacey figured it was about twenty-five miles away, and only open on weekdays. She folded the paper into a square and shoved it in her back pocket.
“Jess,” Bob said. “Your shift starts at one this afternoon. Don’t be late again.”
“Yes sir!” Jessie said, holding his folded flyer to his forehead and saluting Bob. Stacey couldn’t imagine anyone staying angry with Jessie when he flashed his beautiful smile like that.
Jessie pushed the flyer into his pocket, grabbed his skateboard, and headed out the back door. Stacey quickly followed, hopeful for an excuse to talk to him.
As soon as he got outside, though, Jessie set his board down and started toward the boulevard. Stacey stopped, slumping her shoulders. Bummer.
She wondered if he had a car. They rode the same bus in middle school. She knew he lived in the Desert Oasis apartment complex, two blocks from her house. She saw him doing tricks in the parking lot sometimes. But they lived more than three miles from The Plunge, on the other side of town. There were massive hills between the pool and their neighborhood, and most roads didn’t have sidewalks. Is that why he was late? Would he ride his skateboard back and forth every day, in hundred-degree weather? How would he get to Riverside? Would it seem creepy to offer Jessie a ride?
Desiree threw open the door behind Stacey, then stomped passed with Chad trailing after her. He grabbed Desiree around the waist and she pushed him off, storming over to a small white pickup in the parking lot that said “Toy” on the tailgate. Chad caught up to her again, whispering too softly for Stacey to hear.
Despite Desiree’s crossed arms, Chad put his hands on her hips and leaned down to look into her furious eyes. Even from her vantage point, Stacey could see the moment Desiree’s defenses melted away. Within seconds, Chad was kissing her cheek, then her mouth, then Desiree’s arms were around his neck. He lifted her off the ground, her short dress revealing lace panties beneath.
Stacey hadn’t known what to expect from her first job, or what it would be like to work at the pool. But thinking about Jessie in his dripping wet shorts, she felt a surge of desire rush throughout her whole body. And while watching Desiree and Chad’s passionate parking lot make-out session, she began to imagine a summer romance that would put any Eternity ad to shame.