Watching Them Burn: My Rebirth Story novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Lane Five

Darby takes a lifeguard job under Luka, who catches her on the wet deck; Dane walks onto the pool deck with his team.

I needed money, and I needed Dane to see that I was not hiding from him.

The campus pool was where he swam every morning and every night.

So on Wednesday I went there and asked for a job.

I had a lifeguard certificate from three summers at the lake. It was still in my wallet, and it was still valid.

The office door had a paper sign on it that said HEAD GUARD, HANLON.

I knocked.

"It's open."

He was behind a metal desk, in the same gray shirt, writing a schedule on a whiteboard.

He looked at me, then at the certificate I held out.

"You're the roses girl."

"I'm the lifeguard girl," I said. "If you have a shift."

"I've got a Tuesday and Thursday night. Ten to midnight."

"I'll take it."

"You haven't asked the pay."

"I don't care about the pay."

He raised one eyebrow.

"Abercrombie swims here at ten."

"I know."

"And you want to work in the one building he walks into every night."

"He can't ask me out while I'm on a rescue stand," I said. "I'm not allowed to talk to swimmers."

He stared at me.

Then he did the thing I had heard him do once, at the dining hall.

He laughed, once, through his nose.

"Okay," he said. "Rules. I'm Luka Hanlon. I train you tonight. No phone on the deck. No kissing at work."

"Why would I be kissing at work?"

"It's a rule on the sheet," he said. "Last year, two guards went in the supply closet and I had to explain it to the athletic director for a month."

"Understood."

"Good. Don't be late."

I wasn't late.

At seven he walked me around the whole pool, lane by lane.

"Lane one through three are lap swimmers. Four, five and six are the team. The deep end drops at the red line. The stand is a better seat than it looks."

"Why?"

"Because you can see everyone, and nobody can see how bored you are."

I smiled before I could stop.

He noticed. He pretended he didn't.

"Show me the whistle," he said.

I put it between my lips and blew.

The sound went straight up into the rafters.

He closed his eyes.

"Not that loud."

"You said loud."

"I said clear. You can be clear with less."

I tried again, and he nodded.

"Better. Now the deck."

I walked ahead of him along the edge by lane five.

The tile was wet where a hose had been left running.

I had on the wrong shoes.

My heel went out from under me.

I did not even have time to yell.

A hand closed around my upper arm and hauled me back so hard that my whole body turned.

I hit his chest.

It was a lot of chest.

For a second, I could not do anything but stand there with my face against his shirt.

His other hand was flat on my back.

It was warm through the thin top. It did not move.

"Stop. Don't pull away yet, the tile's still wet," he said, low, against my hair.

"I'm not pulling."

"Good."

We stood there.

I felt his heartbeat through the shirt, heavy and fast.

Faster than mine, I thought.

Then he cleared his throat and let go.

"Shoes," he said roughly. "Rubber soles. Next time."

"Next time," I said.

He turned away from me and picked up the clipboard.

His neck was red.

I saw it.

I told myself it was the lights.

At ten o'clock sharp, the pool doors banged open.

The team came in loud, six of them, towels on their shoulders.

Dane walked in the middle with his goggles pushed up on his forehead and a cold look on his face.

He saw me first.

He stopped so quickly that the boy behind him walked into his back.

I was already standing on the rescue stand in lane five, with a whistle around my neck and a red tube across my knees.

"Darby," he said.

I looked past him at the water.

"Please stay behind the line," I said. "No running on the deck."

A couple of the boys laughed.

Dane went white.

"You work here?"

"Tuesday and Thursday nights. Ten to midnight."

"Since when?"

"Since today."

"Why?"

I held the whistle between two fingers.

"I need money for textbooks," I said. "Lane four, please. You're holding up the lane."

He stood there a beat longer than he should have.

He looked at the stand. He looked at the shirt with my name on it.

Then his eyes went past me and landed on Luka Hanlon, who was leaning on the wall by the office with his arms crossed.

Luka lifted two fingers off his elbow.

"Abercrombie," he said pleasantly. "Lane four's open. Don't be late."

Dane's jaw went tight.

"What's he doing here?"

"He's my boss," I said.

Dane looked from one of us to the other.

Something moved across his face that I had never seen on it in six years.

It was not jealousy.

It was fear.

"You're not working with him," he said.

"I am. Lane four, please."

He pulled his goggles down over his eyes.

He went into the water so hard that the whole lane slopped over the side.

Luka walked up to the base of my stand.

"He doesn't like me," he said quietly.

"I noticed."

"You want to know why?"

I looked down at him.

"Why?"

"Two years ago I beat him in the state final," he said. "In lane five. Where you're sitting."

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