Page 16 of Absorbed

From the couch, she could hear Melissa and Jessie’s megaphone banter through the closed door. She wished she had headphones.

“As if they would even notice if someone was drowning out there,” she said to Mark, who had returned to his seat at the desk but kept his back turned, ignoring her.

Stacey stomped over and turned on the stereo. She felt Mark watching her out of the corner of his eye. She fiddled with the dial trying to find the Ska Parade until she heard the familiar sound of the Reel Big Fish trombone tooting “Everything Sucks.” The song made her smile to herself. She turned the volume up until she could barely hear any noise from the pool area. She saw Mark watching her and erased her grin, then flopped back onto the couch, crossing her arms and glaring across the office at Mark.

Mark lifted his eyebrows, shook his head and exhaled, then walked out to the deck.

Stacey was throwing a tantrum and she knew it. But everything about the night totally sucked. After all her anticipation about working with Jessie, he hadn’t even acknowledged her existence. No one had, except Mark, who clearly couldn’t stand her. She sat alone in the guard shack, rereading the same page three times, wondering what she could do to make any of it better. The final shift needed to end so she could go home.

For the last thirty minutes of night swim, Stacey had to go back out to watch the deep end again. It was Melissa’s break, but when Jessie took over her position watching the shallow end of the pool, Melissa sat on the railing of Jessie’s guard tower talking to him for the whole thirty minutes, directly in Stacey’s line of sight.

Jessie would say something that made Melissa laugh, then she’d throw her head back like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard, elongating her golden neck. Arching her back, Melissa would pushed her narrow chest out, striking a sculpture’s pose. Then Jessie would tickle her thigh and poke her in the side to get her to wiggle more. Melissa crumpled into him, her cackle echoing across the water.

“Totally unprofessional,” Stacey muttered to herself. “Get a room.” Whatever. She figured Jessie was way out of her league anyway. Of course he was into someone sexy like Melissa. But did she really have to watch them flirt all summer long? Or worse. What if they started making out every day like Desiree and Chad. I should quit.

Stacey distracted herself staring toward the far end of the pool where the lavender twilight sky hung above the glowing aqua water, willing the night to be over. She imagined how she might be able to mix those exact colors from the paints Ms. Moreno loaned her.

At 8:55, Jessie announced to the swimmers over the megaphone that it was time to close the pool.

Finally! Stacey thought. She climbed down her tower.

At nine, Melissa, Jessie, and Stacey quickly pulled the pool cover across while Mark flipped off the lights in the water and locked the gates.

Stacey entered the guard shack ahead of the others and was surprised to find the rest of the lifeguard crew had shown up. Tiffany sat on the desk twirling her gum and kicking her feet. Chad and Desiree were snuggled on the couch, his arm around her shoulder with his fingers casually resting on her breast. Stacey stood staring at them, dumbfounded. Desiree’s tank top was stretched-thin over her double Ds and her perfectly bouncy chestnut curls brushed against the spaghetti straps. Of all thefemale guards, she most resembled a Baywatch Babe in her red suit. And Chad couldn’t keep his hands off her.

A slow grin spread across Chad’s face. “Whatchalookingat Chapman?” He leaned toward Desiree’s ear, his eyes locked with Stacey’s. “I think Stacey here likes what she sees.”

Stacey blushed and turned away, while Tiffany pretended she hadn’t heard the exchange. Stacey went to her locker to collect her things.

Mark came through the door from the pool deck. “How’s it goin’?” he asked no one in particular in his Joey Tribiani voice. Then he froze, tuning his ears toward the speaker in mock disgust. “Enough of this.” He walked to the stereo and turned the dial to change the station.

“I left my Mariah Carey CD on the shelf. Put that on,” Desiree told Mark.

“Hell no,” he replied. “I have standards.”

Melissa and Jessie entered the guard shack. Jessie grabbed his guitar from its resting place against the filing cabinet, and they settled into folding chairs in the corner, where Jessie began tuning the strings of his guitar.

“What’s wrong with Mariah Carey?” Tiffany asked.

“What isn’t?” Mark snorted. “If I want my ears to bleed, I can press the blow horn button on the megaphone.”

“She’s gotten like two Grammys and was Billboard’s best female artist—twice,” Desiree replied, tugging her tank top up over her cleavage. Chad reached over with his free hand and inched it back down.

“That doesn’t mean her shrill, chick-flick pop is actually good,” Mark said. “It just means she sold a lot of albums because girls like you have no taste. You throw your money away on any crap that promises some guy’ll hold your hand and look into your eyes. I bet you like Janet Jackson and Shania Twain, too.”

“You’re an idiot, Mark.” Melissa rolled her eyes. “Guys like you criticize talented women because of their ability to succeed in a man’s world while you struggle even to achieve mediocrity.”

“Whoa, hold up! I have no problem with successful women,” Mark said, settling on a jazz and funk station. “I plan to see Demi Moore’s new movie next week.”

Desiree scoffed. “You mean the one where she’s a stripper?”

“Hell ya!” Chad lifted his hand to high five Mark. “I’m in whenever you go!”

“Pigs!” Tiffany said.

Melissa turned her back to the group, her knees pulled tight against her chest, and focused all her attention on Jessie. He was strumming his own tune, ignoring the music coming from the radio.

With her book and her towel tucked into the bag on her shoulder, and her keys in her hand, Stacey looked around the room. Isn’t anyone going to ask me to stay? Tiffany and Mark were perched on the desk shoulder to shoulder. Chad and Desiree were cuddled on the couch. And Melissa twirled her long, dark hair while Jessie serenaded her.

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