“Which position pays more?” I ask.
“The mascot pays twenty an hour.”
Holy shit that’s good money.
“But when the temperature is above ninety, we can only let employees wear it for one hour at a time with a two-hour rest break in between.”
“Oh.”
“The lifeguard position pays fifteen dollars an hour and works eight hours a day from ten a.m. to six p.m. every day Monday through Sunday unless we’re closed due to thunderstorms.”
“That sounds perfect,” I tell her.
“Great! So I’ll need you to fill out some paperwork today, and then we’ll give you a trial run tomorrow morning before the park opens to make sure you can swim. If you can, you’ll spend the rest of the day reviewing our training videos and then get certified in CPR over at the hospital. Of course you’ll be paid for the training hours too.”
“That’s great, thank you,” I reply.
“Now, what size do you wear?” she asks.
“Huh?”
“Your size? For the company swimsuit? We have them in small, medium, large or extra-large.”
“Oh, right. I guess I would be a medium.”
“I’ll go grab that while you start filling out the application and tax forms,” she says, handing over the clipboard with a stack of documents and a pen attached.
A few minutes later, when she brings back a tiny, red sports bra with “GUARD” across the boobs, and tiny red bikini bottoms, I can’t help but ask, “That’s the uniform? For a family water park?”
“Usually it’s the dad who pays for the family to come to the park, and our studies have shown that dads are more likely to buy season tickets if we have female lifeguards in bikinis. Sorry,” she adds with a cringe.
“That’s…fine,” I tell her even though I’m already dreading having to put on the skimpy uniform and wear it in public.
Still, it’ll be worth the cash I earn and it’s only for the summer. Hopefully within a few weeks I’ll find a better job for the long term.
That afternoon when I get home, the first thing I do is try on the bikini. And, wow, it’s even smaller when it’s on my body. I should’ve asked for a large or an extra-large for more coverage. But then I probably would’ve ended up with a saggy ass in the bottoms.
Spinning around, I look over my shoulder to see how my butt looks in the red bottoms, and it’s not bad. But my purple hair? It clashes so hard with the red that I look like a punk rock girl who lost a bet.
Guess it’s time for a new hairstyle, one to match the job I have, not the job I want.
If I could have any career in the world, I would be a hair stylist, but I’ve never had the time or money to afford to go to cosmetology school. Instead, I practice on myself and used to cut and color for my friends back in Wilmington.
I’m still debating hair color choices in front of the bathroom mirror when I hear the front door open.
“Hey, Sean! Guess what?” I yell out as I hurry out of the bathroom to tell him the good news.
“Why do you look like a Baywatch reject?” he asks from where he’s standing in front of the open fridge, guzzling orange juice straight from the carton. God, some of his habits are so gross. I’ve been avoiding the milk, and now I guess I won’t be drinking any more orange juice either. I would bitch, but it’s his apartment and he paid for the groceries this week.
“This is my new work uniform,” I reply with my hands on my hips.
“You’re going to be a lifeguard? But you hate water. And the sun.”
“Sure I do, but the pay is decent, and I start tomorrow, so I should definitely have your rent money before it’s due.”
“Good,” he says as he goes back to drinking from the carton. “You can work on your tan while you’re at it. Your paleness is blinding me, Jetta.”
“I just haven’t had a chance to see the sun in a while because I’ve been working. I got a little sun at the concert.”
“Your arms were bright red for a day and then it went in.”
“True, but I’m just one more sunburn away from tanner skin,” I say even though I know I’m full of shit. My skin is white or red with no in between. I turn to head back to the bathroom to change when I finally notice that the flat screen in the living room is missing, leaving behind a big empty space on the entertainment center. “Sean, where’s your television?” I ask him.
“I had to sell it to pay some bills,” he remarks with his back to me.
“You sold your TV?” I say in surprise. “When?”
“Shit happens, Jetta!” he suddenly turns around and shouts at me, his face turning red with anger like a switch was suddenly flipped. “And it’s not like you had a job and could help out!”
“Well, I do now!” I reply. “And don’t worry. As soon as I save up enough money, I’ll find my own place,” I huff before I go back to the bathroom and slam the door to change.
Sometimes Sean can be a sweet brother, and other times he is a complete jerk. I never know which personality I’ll get from my brother, but I can’t stay pissed at him because he was nice enough to give me a place to stay.
Chapter Eight
Devlin
Life settles back into my normal grind over the next few weeks, though my purple-haired goddess is never far from my thoughts. I work long days for a construction crew, but in my free time, which isn’t often, I try to find anything I can about her online. At night, I hang around my apartment alone, letting my mind wander back to the night we spent together. I swear, memories of the concert with Jetta might be the greatest of my entire life. Well, minus the occasional cringe I get when I remember a certain rock star who likes to intrude into my fantasies.
Every night after work, Fiasco and I head out together on our collection runs for the club. If we get back early enough, we might go out with the gambling boat to help provide security or just to drink and play cards with our boys. Most nights, though, I’m too worn out and tired to enjoy myself. After I turn over the money we collect to Malcolm, I just head home to shower and go to bed.
I tell myself it’s just heat and exhaustion, but deep down I know the truth. Every night my dreams are filled with music and the sights, smells, and feelings of one stunningly beautiful woman. A woman who, as the weeks drag on, I decide I absolutely have to figure out how to see again.
Jetta
Working at the waterpark turns out to be duller than even I had anticipated. Once my training is complete and I’m assigned to my lifeguard station to sit and stare my days away, I realize that all of my down time leaves me way too much time for self-reflection.
I don’t regret what happened with Devlin and Rob Lawrence. In fact, every time my thoughts turn back to that night, I get a pleasant tingle throughout my body. Unfortunately, that pleasant sensation is usually doused by the staring eyes of one of the many middle-aged creeps in the park who spend more time leering at me than watching their own families. After extracting myself from a conversation with one such unpleasant park-goer who insisted I personally show him the way to the bathroom, I run to the employee’s only lounge for my break to make a phone call.