by Jade Parker
“Oh, no! Isn’t that in the kiddie area?” Caitlin asked.
My stomach dropped down to my toes like the floor at Screaming Falls had just opened beneath me. “Kiddie area? Do they even need lifeguards in Mini Falls? Aren’t the parents still watching the kids?”
“They have lifeguards everywhere. Liability issues.” She moved to the large board where a huge map of the park indicated where we were. It had the typical “You are here,” with a red arrow. Caitlin studied it for a minute, then pressed her finger to the area on the other side of the park designated as Mini Falls. “There. It is.”
“Well, somebody’s got to work it,” I said, determined to put a positive spin on this. Whenever Mom and I drove anywhere, she’d listen to CDs about the power of positive thinking. I wanted to stay positive. But most of the guys who hung out in that area would be, like, forty-two inches short or shorter. And still hanging out with their mommies.
“But you’ll be working with him!” Caitlin exclaimed.
“Him? Him who?”
“Sean. He’ll be your supervisor. That’s his area. I know, because I overheard him complaining about it to someone. I mean, no one wants to work there. It’s miserable. Whining babies and all that.”
“You know, you’re really depressing me here.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just so awful. It’s easier to work for people you don’t know, people who have no expectations about you.”
“Sean has expectations about me?”
“Probably. Don’t you think? He knows everything about you.”
“Everything?”
“He’s known you as long as I have.”
“Still, there are things he doesn’t know.” Lots of things.
I wanted a loophole. A way out of this disaster. I really thought I could have handled being around kids all day — but being around Sean Morgan? I don’t think so!
I mean, I knew him. He knew me. It would be weird — especially since, like I mentioned, we had this whole avoidance thing going.
“But isn’t there some sort of rule about people who know each other not working together?”
“Family members can’t work in the same area. You’re not family.”
“Yes, I am. Sorta. We’re sisters of the heart.”
“I don’t think that counts.”
I looked at the paper again. My assignment hadn’t changed. How bad could it be?
“So, we’ll hook up at lunch at the lounging deck in the Tsunami area, because sorry — no way am I going to Mini Falls where all the babies are. Okay?” Caitlin asked.
“Sure.”
I picked up my tote bag and slung it over my shoulder. “Guess we need to go get our uniforms.”
I was nothing if I wasn’t an optimist. I was certain I’d discover some advantage to working in this particular area. Still, I was having a difficult time imagining what it could be.
Splash. Basically, it was a little twelve-inch-deep wading pool at the bottom of a winding slide. At the top, water swirled through a very shallow pool and over the slide. Nearby was a large mesh container that contained inner tubes. We grabbed a tube and put it at the top of the four-foot-high slide. A kid wearing a life preserver climbed onto it. Then we gently pushed him off the landing and he glided toward the water.
Splash!
Another lifeguard — and sometimes a parent if the kiddos were really small — - stood near the bottom of the slide but within easy reach just in case a child toppled. But that rarely happened. It was the shortest slide in the park, specially designed to give the little tykes a safe thrill.
It wasn’t very challenging work, but then my concern wasn’t the work so much as the supervisor. I really didn’t want Sean judging me. Caitlin was right. It would be weird.
I’d gone to the locker room, found my locker, and changed into my uniform — a red tank bathing suit and red visor. I had a whistle draped around my neck. My red hip-pack was buckled securely. Attached to it was my park photo ID. Lying off to the side, a little away from the water, but within easy reach, was my red rescue tube. I was prepared. Totally.
But still, the excitement factor here was going to be negative twenty and falling faster than someone shooting down the Bermuda Triangle — which was almost a total vertical drop until the slide suddenly wasn’t anymore and you were, like, hurtling through the air, before you disappeared into the twelve-foot pool beneath you.
Big difference between twelve inches and twelve feet — not to mention the guys who hang out at each one. As much as I hated to admit it, because it made me seem so shallow — pun intended — I was disappointed in the guy factor here. I’d thought it would be fun to work someplace where I was paid to keep an eye on cute guys.
“Hey.”
I looked over. A blond guy in red swim trunks and a visor that matched mine walked over and placed his hands on his hips. He was cute in a chipmunk kind of way. He had really puffy cheeks when he smiled, and he was smiling now.
“Hi,” I said.
“I’m Nick.”
“Robyn.” The conversationally challenged, apparently.
He looked around. “So who did we tick off to get this gig, huh?”
I laughed, not sure what to say to that. I mean, yeah, it was a lousy job but complaining wasn’t going to change anything.
“Have you worked here before — at the park, I mean?” he asked.
I shook my head. “First time.”
“Me, too. So maybe it’s just a matter of working our way up to the cool rides.”
“Maybe.” But if that was the case, then Caitlin would be suffering beside me. Although, technically, she wasn’t at a ride.
“I spent a lot of time here last summer,” Nick said. “It all looks different, though.”
“You spent time in the kiddie area?”
He laughed. He had a great laugh, and I thought working with him could be fun. He seemed easy to talk to.
“No way. Never even got close. Nah, I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s just because there’s no one here yet.”
Well, except for the employees, of course. But I guess we didn’t count.
I caught sight of Sean swaggering in our direction. He was in his red Paradise Falls swim trunks, with a whistle draped around his neck, tapping against his bare chest. His attention was focused on the girl walking beside him. They were talking, he was smiling. He never smiled at me like that.
As they got closer, I recognized her. She was the blond I’d noticed earlier, the one who’d been sitting by herself, looking bored. She was decked out in the official Paradise Falls uniform and had her hair pulled back now. So I guess she wasn’t a supermodel. She was just like the rest of us.
Sean pointed toward me, said something that made her smile and made me suddenly feel self-conscious. What was there to say about me?
He led her over. She was smaller than I was. Slender. Petite. Her large, really dark-lensed sunglasses made it look like she was trying to hide.
“Hey, Robyn, Nick, this is Whitney. She’s going to work at Splash.”
Apparently, she needed a personal escort.
“Hey,” Nick said, his smile even bigger than it had been when he was talking to me.
“Park will be opening in fifteen. Got any questions?” Sean asked.
Nick and I shook our heads. Whitney just sighed.
“Okay then. To start with, a couple of you help the kids climb into a tube at the top, one catches ’em if they spill over at the bottom. Think you can handle it?”
Was that a serious question?
I nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
“Okay then.”
“Okay then” seemed to be all he could think to say to signal that we were good to go. I wondered if he was as nervous about being my supervisor as I was about having him as my supervisor.
“So, Nick, why don’t you start out at the bottom of the slide?” Sean suggested. “Every fifteen minutes we’ll rotate positions so no one falls asleep. Then we’ve got what w
e call rotators who’ll come through and relieve you for break and lunch.”
“Awesome,” Nick said, before hopping on the slide and riding down to the bottom, fake-screaming like he was terrified.
I laughed. Sean cleared his throat. I stopped laughing. This was serious business. For a minute, I’d gotten caught up in the fun and forgotten.
“Hey, Nick, we’re not supposed to actually play on the slides,” Sean called out.
“I wasn’t playing, dude,” Nick said. “I was transporting.”
“Yeah, right,” Sean grumbled. He looked at me and Whitney. “Okay then, if you’ve got no questions, I’ve got other areas to watch, employees to supervise, so I’ll check back later.”
He waited a second to see if we had questions. We didn’t. Then he walked away.
As soon as he was out of sight, Whitney sat down on the edge of the pool, near the slide. She waved at Nick. He waved back. Then she put her arms behind her, leaned back, and began kicking her feet in the water, creating little splashes.
It seemed like if we were going to work together that we should at least be friendly — - like lab partners at school. It was easier to work with someone you knew. Not easier if he was your supervisor, but easier if you were equals. And Whitney and I were equals, working in the same position. Who knew? Maybe we could even be friends.
“So have you worked here before?” I asked Whitney.
She scoffed. “No.”
“So where were you hoping to work?”
“Why would anyone hope to work anywhere?”
“I mean, if you could work anywhere in the park you wanted, where would you want to be assigned?”
“Ooh, toughie. Let me see. How ’bout nowhere?”
What was her problem?
“Look, I don’t mean to be nosy, but with your attitude, it’s like you don’t want to work.”
“Right on.”
“Then why are you here?” I asked.
“My dad’s making me.” She looked around and pointed. “Any idea who that is?”
I glanced over to where she was pointing. It was the guy from this morning, the one I’d seen watching her. He was working the ice-cream cart, wearing red shorts and a white polo shirt with the little Paradise Falls logo on it.
“No,” I said. “I saw him this morning, though.”
“Yeah, I did, too. He kept looking at me.”
“Maybe he thinks you’re cute.”
“Well, yeah, of course. Who doesn’t?”
Maybe me?
Reaching up, she released her hair and shook her head, sending the long strands flying before settling back again. “I guess as far as jobs go, this one isn’t too bad. I can improve my tan, play in the water, watch cute guys walk by.”
She already had an end-of-summer tan. I didn’t know how she thought she’d improve it. As for cute guys walking by, most were at the age where they still waddled.
And speaking of waddlers … I spotted a group of about a dozen kids walking toward Splash. They were trudging along in a single line, all holding on to a length of jump rope — a lady at each end. I’d seen groups like them plenty last year. They were day-care kids, on a field trip.
I looked at Whitney. “Looks like we’re about to get busy.”
She pushed her sunglasses down her nose. She had the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. “You don’t really expect me to help, do you?”
“Uh, well, yeah.”
She shook her head. “Think again.”
“You’re gonna get fired,” I felt a need to point out.
“No, I won’t.” She nudged her sunglasses back into place. “I’m just so adorable. I can do anything I want and never get in trouble.”
Great. Just the type of person I wanted to be around all summer.
I heard several screeches and turned back to the day-care kids who were scrambling up the steps to the slide.
“No running!” I yelled down.
But they kept coming at the speed of light.
Wasn’t this summer going to be all about fun?
“Whitney really thinks she doesn’t have to do anything,” I told Caitlin when I met her for lunch.
We were sitting on lounge chairs on the sandy deck at Tsunami.
“Tell Sean,” Caitlin said, slathering sunblock on her legs.
“I don’t want him to think I’m a whiner.”
“What do you care what he thinks about you?”
I couldn’t explain it. I’d sorta always cared what he thought. Maybe because he was older and I thought if he liked me, then maybe other guys would like me. I guess maybe I saw him as my litmus test. I don’t know. I probably knew him better than I knew any other guy — but still, I knew him hardly at all.
I put my beach bag — a red one that I’d recently bought to match my red uniform — in my lap and started digging around for my soda. I popped the top, took a long swallow, and set it aside. I pulled out the small, insulated bag where I’d packed my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, along with a small tub of fruit. I hadn’t figured out yet how to make an interesting lunch. All my years in school, I’d been on the cafeteria plan. Mom thought it ensured I ate healthy. Ha!
“Seriously,” Caitlin said. “He’s being paid to be the bad guy. Let him yell at her. It’s not fair to you if she’s not pulling her weight.”
“I guess.” Not that there was a lot of weight to pull at Splash. Quite honestly, I could handle it by myself. But still …
I glanced around and spotted Sean sitting at a table beneath an umbrella. “Although I’m really not sure my talking to him is going to do any good.”
“Why not?” Caitlin asked.
“Because he’s eating lunch with her.”
Caitlin glanced over her shoulder. “That’s Whitney? That blond?”
“Yeah.”
“How many bleach strips does she use? I mean, really, have you ever seen teeth that white?”
“You should see them when the sun bounces off them — or her gold watch. It’s blinding. I think the watch is a Cartier.”
“No way.”
“Looks like it.”
“Why would she wear it to a water park?”
“I don’t know, Caitlin. I can’t figure her out.”
She studied them for a minute. “Looks like he’s actually talking to her. He’s smiling. I wonder if she’s the girl he’s been dreaming about.”
“He talks to you about girls?”
“No, but he doesn’t always close his door when he’s on the phone, and if I need to stop in the hallway and catch my breath on my way to my bedroom” — she shrugged — - “you know, sometimes I can’t help but hear things.”
I laughed. She could be so outrageous. So without remorse. She was always spying on him, and then telling me what she’d found out.
“Anyway, I heard him telling someone that a new cute babe was going to start working at the park this year. Sounded like maybe he was really interested. Maybe it’s her,” Caitlin said.
Whitney laughed at something Sean said.
“She seems to like him,” I muttered, wondering why it bothered me.
“He can be pretty entertaining when he wants to be.” She twisted back around and lay back. “So you’re probably right. Complaining to him might not get you anywhere, but still you need to tell him. It’s his job.”
“It’s not like it’s hard work or anything. It’s just the principle of the thing. You know?”
“I hear you, girlfriend.”
What was it about Whitney that he liked? Other than the fact that, as she so succinctly put it, she was adorable? I wasn’t hideous or anything, but I didn’t think I’d ever announce — especially to someone I’d just met — that I was cute.
“Okay, check out that guy,” Caitlin said, bringing my attention back to the reason we were eating lunch at Tsunami. Because of the scenery. Working at a water park gave us the real lowdown on how fit guys were.
The guy in question was obviously a lifeguard, walkin
g along the edge of the pool. He had brown hair. He looked like he was a little older than us. Totally cute.
“So what do you think?” Caitlin asked.
“Huh?”
“His kiss factor. What would you rate him, on a scale of one to ten? One being a toad. Ten being Zac Efron.”
“But a frog can turn into a prince.”
Yes, I was a hopeless romantic.
“You know what I mean. Would you kiss him?”
I considered her question, considered the guy. I nodded. “Yeah, probably.” Maybe. I don’t know. The real question was: Would he kiss me?
“Yeah, me too.”
“Are you interested in him?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Wish we had a way to meet all the guys at once so we could narrow down our choices.”
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to date someone we work with?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Well, if things don’t work out, we’ll see him every day.”
She shrugged. “We just have to make sure things work out.”
She sounded so confident. It was one of the things I’d always like about Caitlin — she wasn’t afraid of anything. She thought she could always succeed. Even if she hadn’t had a boyfriend yet. It was just a matter of time.
Caitlin pulled a teen mag out of her tote, opened it to a page she’d marked with a sticky note. “Here’s a guide to knowing when you’re ready to kiss a guy. There’s even a test, so you can score your readiness. I’ll read the questions, you give me your answers.”
Caitlin was always taking the tests in magazines. If she did as well on her tests at school as she did on the magazine tests, she’d graduate valedictorian.
“Number one. Whenever you see him, A your heart pounds, B you feel nauseous, C you walk in the opposite direction.”
I, on the other hand, did horrible on these things. And okay, I usually cheated, looking to see which score I needed to give me the rating that I wanted. “Isn’t there an ‘all of the above’?” I asked.
“No, you have to choose.”
I didn’t want to choose. I didn’t want to do a stupid test. My supervisor was having lunch with the laziest employee at the park. What were the odds that he might be telling her to get her act in gear?
