Making Waves

by Nicole Leigh Shepherd

  I hear a whistle and look back in the direction of the sound. My stomach drops. Denise and the other guards are standing around. I wonder how long I have before Denise starts thinking that something’s going on here.

  “Brody, I really have to go,” I announce.

  “Okay, okay. I get it. But what about dinner?” Brody tilts his head, pulling me in with his eyes.

  “It’s not a good idea,” I say, standing up. “What you did just now was pretty ridiculous. Plus, there’s the Denise issue and you still haven’t told me what’s really going on.”

  Brody shrugs. “I think it’s pretty obvious—you’re here, I’m here …”

  “Why are you here, Brody? Why aren’t you at Michigan? You still haven’t told me.”

  “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

  “You will?”

  Brody nods.

  “First off, why …”

  Tweeeeet.

  Denise’s whistle cuts us off. “Bring it in!”

  That does it. I give Brody a quick wave and start briskly walking back to the team. I don’t get more than two steps before I hear a persistent voice call out, “So … dinner?”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Are you lifeguarding tomorrow?” I ask Zoe. I’m spread across my down comforter with my phone tucked between my ear and shoulder. Even though the sun has gone down and my windows are open, I’m still sweating buckets. Mom refuses to turn on the AC unless it’s above ninety, and today the temperature only reached a balmy eighty-seven. And I should know—I was outside sprinting in it.

  “Yes! I just found out,” Zoe screeches. “I’m working the pool in the afternoon. How about you?”

  I picture Zoe resting on her enormous king-sized bed in her sub–seventy degree central air–conditioned room with views of Catalina in the distance.

  “Morning at the beach,” I sigh. “Suckage. I was hoping we’d be together.” I feel around my neck for my friendship charm, reminding myself to leave it at home since I’ll have to quickly change into my snack bar attire once I’m done at the beach.

  “It’s my fault. I should have tried harder to make the cut for the beach.” Zoe’s sigh is audible through the phone receiver.

  “You’ll get there. And if I didn’t have to work the snack bar tomorrow afternoon, we could have totally hung out.” I stretch my sun-kissed legs above the head of my bed, resting my feet against my corkboard filled with newspaper clippings and old pics.

  Bang.

  My door shakes. A picture of my brothers and me sitting on the lifeguard stand at our old beach dislodges from my collage and floats to my bed.

  “What was that?” Zoe asks.

  “Just Alex and Frankie wrestling in the hallway again.”

  I muffle the receiver and shout, “I’m on the phone!”

  I’m assaulted by the sounds of laughter on the other side of my door. Then another bang.

  “Sorry!” I hear my middle brother, Alex, shout between grunts.

  “They’re so annoying,” I say. With my phone still tucked, I catch my arms on the floor and back flip off my bed. Then I stand up and fall onto my desk chair. I reach into my desk drawer to grab my planner, knowing that Zoe is sure to ask about our next babysitting engagement. My eyes land on a hotel brochure I saved from the infamous swim conference where Brody and I first met.

  “So … did I tell you that Brody asked me out?” I ask Zoe.

  “He did what?!” Zoe yells into the receiver.

  “He asked me to dinner tomorrow night, but I’m not gonna go,” I say even as I pull the brochure out of the drawer.

  “Whatever. It’s obvious he still likes you.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly go there. Usually when normal people like each other they don’t pretend that they’re dead.” I trace my finger along a photo of the shore where Brody and I had our first kiss.

  “He was just trying to be cute! And anyway, I think it’s fate. You and him ending up at the same club for the summer. It’s exactly like Prince William and Princess Catherine going to St. Andrews together.”

  “You’re seriously obsessed with royalty.”

  Zoe ignores me. “Brody is totally like a prince. The prince of BCC. And you’re about to become the princess.”

  “Are you saying I come from lowly roots?”

  “I’m saying that you’re the best swimmer and that everyone is about to be awed and amazed by you.”

  “Uh. First off, let me you remind you that we just so happened to be at the same club for the summer. I wouldn’t exactly call that fate. Plus, Brody and I don’t even know each other. We hung out one night at a swim meet. That’s it. O-V-E-R.”

  Bang.

  I slam the brochure down on my desk and pull the phone away from my ear. “Stop!” I scream.

  Zoe sighs. “Boy, you really have some crazy people living in your house.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  I hear my mother’s stern voice behind the door.

  “Have you broached the Brody subject with them?”

  “It’s a little premature, isn’t it? Anyway, we already know what they’d say. They hate guys like Brody.”

  “You don’t know for sure ….”

  “Zoe, you know as well as I do that they’ll take one look at Brody and see Nick. They’ll think that he’s super entitled and that he wants more than I’m willing to dish out.”

  “Brody’s not like that,” Zoe says. Then she screams, “Ugh!”

  “What happened?” I ask, practically jumping into the phone to save my best friend.

  “Just spilled my nail polish on the floor.”

  “Oh.”

  I can almost make out the sound of Zoe shrugging. “Guess it’s not a big deal. I can always get the rug replaced.”

  “You can?” I look at my carpeting. It’s dotted with the residue of hair gel left during my scrunching period, nail polish stains from sleepovers past, and even an ink stain from when Frankie decided my bedroom floor was his personal canvas.

  “Anyway, back to Brody, he doesn’t seem the type that’d be easily shaken. Even by your brothers.” I hear Zoe pop a piece of gum into her mouth.

  “Then what type is he?”

  “I dunno. He just always seemed like one of the good ones.” Zoe pauses. “But then again …”

  “Yeah? What?” My heart skips a beat.

  “Okay, I don’t want you to freak out ….”

  “Yeah?” I urge Zoe to continue.

  “My brother told me he heard something about why Brody is back at the beach club.”

  “Why would I freak out about that?” I stand up and walk back to my bed.

  “Well, you know, normally I’d buy Zach’s stuff as just, well, Zach being Zach—super immature and egotistical and whatever. But since you’re so worried about the whole playing dead thing, I figure I have to tell you ….”

  “Tell me what?” I sit on the edge of my mattress.

  “Zach said that Brody was forced to withdraw from Michigan—apparently because of some really bad reason.” Zoe pops her gum.

  “Like what?” Lots of stuff fills my head—drinking, drugs, pregnancy. Then I stop myself. This is coming from Zach.

  “I don’t know. I just know it’s really bad,” Zoe says in a dramatic voice.

  “That settles it. I’m definitely not going on that date.”

  Naturally, my brother Frankie chooses that second to peek his head in the door.

  “Hold on, Zoe.” I muffle the receiver again.

  “Mom has some leftovers. She wants to know if you want some.” Frankie scans my room as if he’s searching for something.

  “Yeah. Sure,” I say. “Thanks.” I point to the receiver. “Phone,” I mouth.

  Frankie doesn’t take the hint. “So, how was the old beach?” he asks, leaning against the door.

  “Exactly the same except for some extra-plush lounge chairs.” I roll my eyes just as my mom enters the room.

  “Hey, sweetie!�
� my mom says, pushing the door open even wider. “We’re so proud of you!”

  Frankie looks down at my mom. “Uh. Maybe you are.”

  “What does that mean?” My mom stares accusingly at my youngest brother.

  Frankie turns to face me directly. “Abby, you know we think you’re a traitor for working at that beach club.”

  “Frankie!” My mom admonishes.

  “What?” Frankie shrugs. “It’s true. We all think that the private beach thing is completely messed up.” Frankie ducks under my mom’s arm and makes his way back to the chaos waiting just outside my door.

  “Thanks, Mom, for being the lone person besides me in this house who thinks BCC is a good thing.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far, honey.” She squeezes my shoulder, “I’m just happy you’re happy.” For some reason, her words don’t reassure me.

  She turns to leave and I can’t resist asking, “Mom, air?” I point to the unplugged air conditioner.

  “It’s a cool seventy-eight outside. Can’t you feel the sea breeze?” She shrugs, gently shutting my door.

  I talk to a closed door. “Uh, no. We live miles from the beach.”

  I press the phone against my ear again. “Hey, I’m back.”

  “It really is crazy town there. Sheesh …” Zoe sighs dramatically. “Anyway, since you’re not going on your date tomorrow night, can you help me out with babysitting?”

  I lie back against my comforter and stare at my ceiling. “Sure,” I say. I’ve already gotten my spot on the beach so at least I can give Zoe that.

  “You know, I just wanted to say how sorry I am again for not telling you about the stupid luau rules,” Zoe says. She sounds as if she just sat up.

  “It’s okay.” I play with one of the flowers stitched to my bedspread.

  “No, it isn’t. You’re too good to me.”

  “Zoe, really, it’s not—”

  Zoe cuts me off. “The way you’re so forgiving and the way you agreed to babysit just as soon as you could. That means a lot. You’re really the best friend I could ever ask for.”

  “Ha ha … I doubt it.”

  “No, really, you are!”

  But Zoe’s wrong. I’m not. Because this whole time I haven’t been thinking about Zoe. Or babysitting. All I’ve been thinking about is that photo of the ocean and how I’d give anything to be back there with Brody.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Early the next morning, I block my eyes from the hazy sun and stare up at the massive wooden lifeguard’s chair. In that moment, everything that’s bothering me—the club rules, the chaos in my house, my babysitting appointment with Zoe, yesterday’s encounter with Brody—all seem to disappear.

  This is it. Everything I’ve worked for since I took my first swimming lesson at age three. I’m a lifeguard.

  Above me sits an older bronzed girl with polarized sunglasses. Her platinum blonde hair is pulled tight in a short ponytail and a whistle rests between her pink lips.

  One thing they didn’t teach us in lifeguard training was how to climb to the top of this white stand. Good thing my brothers and I used to scale fences when we played jailbreak back in elementary school. I take a deep breath and hoist myself up. Here goes nothing.

  When I reach the seat, the girl glances at me.

  I cringe, wondering if she’s anything like Lexi. From the looks of the schedule, the two of us are going to be together for most of the summer. And if she’s as ridiculous as my sorry-excuse-for-a-captain, I’m in for a long two and a half months.

  The girl—Katie according to the sign-up list—kindly smiles at me. Then her eyes trail off and she resumes scanning the surf. “Are you Abby?” she asks, adjusting her wrap-around sunglasses.

  “Yup. And you must be Katie,” I say, attempting to shove my bag underneath the chair like the other lifeguards. But, try as I might, it doesn’t fit. I think about all the things I threw in there before I left the house—my snack bar uniform, an apron, a pair of sneakers. Things the other lifeguards don’t have to deal with.

  I resign myself to plopping the bag behind me. Then I adjust my bathing suit, and settle in next to my partner.

  “Nice to meet you,” Katie says. The sun reflects off the silver whistle dangling around her neck.

  Oops. My whistle. How could I forget my whistle? I turn around and unzip the front pocket of my bag, shoving my hand inside.

  “What are you looking for?’ Katie asks.

  “My … uh …” I thumb through the front pocket, feeling around my swim goggles. I don’t want to tell my partner that I forgot my whistle on the first day. She’d probably report me to Denise immediately.

  “Abby, you okay?”

  I unzip the middle section and dig through my apron and clothes. If Zoe and I were on the same shift, none of this would matter. I wouldn’t have to impress anyone. I could just laugh it off as a silly little mistake. But noooo …

  “Abby?”

  I find it. Finally.

  I take a deep breath and sit up, placing the whistle around my neck just like Katie.

  “A little nervous?” she asks.

  A cool breeze blows off the ocean. “Is it that obvious?” I ask, shivering. I awkwardly look around for a better spot to put my bag, wondering if they factor the lifeguarding equivalent of bedside manner into who wins the scholarship. So far, I certainly haven’t won at any points in that area.

  “You can hang your bag on the back of the chair if you can’t fit it underneath the seat.” Katie points to the spot.

  “Thanks,” I say, taking Katie’s direction. I steady myself on the high chair. The waves crash and spray below us.

  “Is this your first time guarding?” Katie asks. She grabs a bottle of SPF 30 and slathers herself as she talks, never taking her eyes off the beach.

  “Yeah.” My eyes fix on a little girl in a butterfly bathing suit. Her swimming tube bounces as she runs toward a wave then retreats.

  “You really are nervous, aren’t you?” Katie asks.

  “Do you think that little girl is okay?” At training they told us that a tube usually indicates the little ones can’t swim.

  “She’s fine,” Katie reassures me. “It’s the kids who don’t show fear that you really have to worry about.”

  “Oh …” I say, confused. Part of me wonders if maybe Katie is just taking the easy way out. “So, um, have you been doing this for a while?”

  “You could say that.”

  The girl sits on the sand, stretching out her tiny legs in the shallow water. I relax. A little.

  “I remember my first day on the job,” Katie begins. “I noticed a boy—he must have been five-years-old—drop his swim trunks and start peeing in the ocean. So I jumped off my chair and ran toward him as fast as I could.”

  “His mom must have liked that.”

  “Ha! I wish. She got mad at me when her kid burst into tears after I directed him to the bathroom.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, she was all, How dare you mess up my son’s self-esteem?”

  “Because it takes a lot of courage to pee in the ocean …”

  Katie laughs at that one. “Exactly! Definitely big-man-on-campus material. Anyway, suffice it to say that my first day was not pretty. I almost lost my job over that one.”

  “Wow,” I say. “Tough break.”

  “Tell me about it.” Katie smiles. “And I’m still here.”

  You wouldn’t be if you weren’t a member, I almost say.

  The warm sun moves behind a cloud, sending a chill into the air. Goose bumps appear on my legs. “So, if I manage to successfully stay away from peeing boys and girls in swim tubes, what do I have to be worried about?”

  “Basically, our job as lifeguards is to prevent something bad from happening.” Katie pulls out a red lifeguard hoodie from her bag. “Rip currents are the biggest threat for a drowning. That and alcohol. People always act dumb when they’ve had too much to drink.”

  Katie stands up and blows
her whistle. She waves her arm, signaling a couple to move away from the rocks.

  The guy and girl look up. They begin to move closer to shore.

  Katie sits down again, satisfied that the pair is no longer in harm’s way. “Look at that guy! Yeah, man!” she exclaims, pointing to a surfer skimming the top of a decent-sized wave. She practically bounces in her seat as the wave crashes over him.

  “Do you surf?” I ask, looking at Katie with new eyes.

  “Yup. I spend most of my time when I’m not guarding at Surfrider. The waves there are amazing.”

  “I used to surf here as a kid,” I volunteer.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” I stare at the fog on the horizon. “This used to be my family’s favorite beach.”

  “Cool.” Katie scrunches her lotion-covered nose as she gazes out at the water.

  “So, you said you’ve been doing this for a while. How long is that?” I ask. Another gust of wind whips by, pulling a few flyaway hairs from my pony.

  “Three years. I just graduated from Upper Crest.”

  Upper Crest! I resist the temptation to pepper her with a million questions about Brody. Instead, I begin with a more neutral topic. “Oh, do you know Amber McDonald?” I ask. “I played softball with her at Beachwood.”

  “Yeah. Love Amber. I had Mr. McDonald, Amber’s dad, for history. And of course, Amber was a phenomenal pitcher. I heard she did an amazing job for you guys too this year.”

  “Yup. We won the invitational and saved our softball program because of Amber.” I see a guy with messy brown hair tossing a football and my thoughts immediately turn back to Brody.

  I know I shouldn’t say anything to Katie, but … she has to know him. They just graduated together. They’ve been lifeguards together for years. She’ll know if he’s a player. She might even know what’s up with Michigan.

  I decide to take a super stealthy approach. “So, did you compete in last year’s Last Blast Competition?” I ask.

  “Came in fourth,” She pauses, waving at the little girl in the butterfly bathing suit. “I just found out that I’ll be leading a team this year.”

  Okay. That didn’t exactly elicit any Brody-related conversation. Hmm …

  I press on. “That’s awesome. And did you attend the Luau after the competition?”