Lifeguard Jeon

° T W E N T Y - S E V E N °

DANGEROUS RIP CURRENTS:

STAY OUT OF THE WATER

The signs  are everywhere, posted all along the fencing near the beach. I look out.

No one is in the water anywhere.

All over the sand, beachgoers are trying to cool off by sitting under umbrellas, fanning themselves, and downing in cold drinks. I don't have an umbrella and I've finished every drop in my water bottle. I lay out on my blanket, staring up at the sky, the sun burning my skin.

I hate Jungkook. I hate him, I hate him. I hate him. I blame him for the riptides. I blame him because I'm roasting. It's over ninety-nine degrees and I'm stuck in the middle of a beach with nowhere to swim and nothing to do and no one to do anything with. I'm in a total sweat and so furious. It's his beach, or at least he acts like it is, so it's all his fault and I'd like to strangle him.

I hate his superiority, the uncomfortable way he makes me feel, the way he sets you up as if he's interested and the next moment gives you the deep freeze, disabusing me you of the laughable notion that someone like you might hold even the slightest appeal to him.

if that wasn't bad enough, the rejection comes on top of the news that my parents - so busy house hunting and splitting up - aren't even planning to visit me this summer.

"Money is very tight, Suzy," Eomma said. "You have to understand, baby." Why did I have to understand everything about them? Why didn't anyone understand what I was going through?

My life sucks. Plain and simple. And it's not like there's anything on the horizon to make it better. I look at my skin turning red. Screw sunscreen. I bury it in the sand. What does it matter if I burn? Who cares about skin cancer?"

Out of the corner of my eye I watch him high up in his chair looking out at the beach and down on everyone. he's not in sweat. Maybe he's cold now, instead of hot because he's not like everybody else or anyone else.  His face isn't beaded with sweat. How is that possible? Does he have supernatural cooling power so he doesn't sweat, just like he doesn't bruise? Maybe he doesn't even sunburn; he only tans and the color automatically stops when he's a divinely tanned because of his internal perfection meter.

Eventually he makes his way to the sand and walks off. He's on foot patrol now, wandering all along the beach as if to let people know he's there, hat he's watching. I keep my eye on him until he's almost out of my vision.

Slowly I make my way to the pier, just outside the swimming area. I sit at the edge, watching the water. It doesn't look particularly dangerous to me. Wouldn't you be able to see riptides if they were actually there? Wouldn't the water look wild, wouldn't the waves look bigger and fiercer than they do now?

Three girls walk by in low-cut bikinis. They put down a blanket, drop a large bag of cheesepuffs and a six-pack of Diet Coke and lay out in the sun. One is tall and thin, almost bony. she must live on Diet Coke. Her hair is short and caramel brown. The other two have colored-hair, closer to my age. They giggle constantly like there's absolutely nothing in the world that isn't funny. They must be in a sorority because they're all wearing identical anklets.

"So I asked him to come to my party," one of the colored-hair says.

"Get out. Jungkook?"

My ears perk up.

"Of course. Who else?"

"What did he say?"

She laughs and raises an brow. "He's definitely coming."