Lifeguard On Duty

Chapter 2: The Game Begins

The next morning came with the same oppressive heat, the same sticky air, and the same suffocating sense of being trapped. The sky hung low, washed out by the sun, casting a dull, lifeless haze over Hawkins. Billy stood in front of his bathroom mirror, his jaw clenched tight as he dragged a razor over the stubborn shadow on his face. Each stroke was sharp, precise, methodical—just like the rest of his routine. No wasted movements, no hesitation.

Just get it done. Get out. Survive another day.

He wiped his jaw clean and tossed the razor into the sink, his eyes narrowing as he stared at his reflection. There was a hollowness there, a void that had been growing since the day they packed up and left California. His father had called it a new start, but Billy knew better. It wasn't a new start. It was a sentence.

Every morning, he'd look at himself in that mirror and see the same person staring back—the same guy everyone in this town whispered about. The California kid with the perfect hair and the cocky smile. The guy who made girls blush and guys clench their fists in jealousy. He was the outsider, the bad boy. And he played his role well, because that's all it was. A role. An act. One he'd perfected over years of learning how to survive in a world that didn't give a damn about him.

But today, something was different.

Today, there was something more under the surface. Something that had taken root since yesterday when he'd walked away from that picnic table by the pool. It was subtle, like an itch at the back of his mind, a nagging thought that wouldn't let go.

She didn't give him anything.

Billy had spent the whole night going over the encounter in his head, trying to figure out why he couldn't shake it. It wasn't like it was the first time a girl had played hard to get. Hell, he'd seen that move a thousand times. But it was the way she'd done it. The calm, cool dismissal. Like she hadn't even had to try. Like she knew exactly what game they were playing, and she wasn't interested in playing by his rules.

He liked that.

More than he wanted to admit.

Billy shrugged on his denim jacket, ignoring the heat. It didn't matter. Looking good always mattered more. He ran a hand through his hair, the familiar routine calming him as he slicked it back into its usual perfect waves. He gave himself one last look in the mirror—blue eyes sharp, jaw tight, lips curled in a lazy smirk. There he was. Billy Hargrove. The guy everyone wanted, or hated, or both. And he was about to head back to that pool, where he knew she'd be.

Today, he'd make her look at him.

By the time he pulled up to the pool, the lot was already half-full. Moms in sun hats unloaded toddlers from minivans, older kids ran ahead, towels flapping like capes behind them. The sound of splashing and squealing drifted over the chain-link fence, the same cacophony of noise that had greeted him every day since summer started.

He slid out of the car, aviators already in place, and made his way to the entrance. As he passed through the gate, the familiar chorus of giggles started. The girls—high school juniors, maybe seniors, barely out of braces—clustered near the snack bar, whispering behind their hands as they shot him shy glances. Billy gave them a smirk and a lazy wink, knowing full well the effect it would have. The girls practically swooned, one of them clutching her friend's arm as if she might faint on the spot.

Yeah, he still had it. But none of them were the reason he was here.

Billy's eyes scanned the pool deck, searching for her. The mystery girl. He hadn't caught her name yesterday, hadn't needed to. Names didn't matter when the game had just started. What mattered was the chase, the thrill of figuring out how far he could push, how long she could resist.