Robyn (3 page)

“Whitney really thinks she doesn’t have to do anything,” I told Caitlin when I met her for lunch.

We were sitting on lounge chairs on the sandy deck at Tsunami.

“Tell Sean,” Caitlin said, slathering sunblock on her legs.

“I don’t want him to think I’m a whiner.”

“What do you care what he thinks about you?”

I couldn’t explain it. I’d sorta always cared what he thought. Maybe because he was older and I thought if he liked me,
then maybe other guys would like me. I guess maybe I saw him as my litmus test. I don’t know. I probably knew him better than I knew any other guy — but still, I knew him hardly at all.

I put my beach bag — a red one that I’d recently bought to match my red uniform — in my lap and started digging around for my soda. I popped the top, took a long swallow, and set it aside. I pulled out the small, insulated bag where I’d packed my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, along with a small tub of fruit. I hadn’t figured out yet how to make an interesting lunch. All my years in school, I’d been on the cafeteria plan. Mom thought it ensured I ate healthy.
Ha!

“Seriously,” Caitlin said. “He’s being paid to be the bad guy. Let him yell at her. It’s not fair to you if she’s not pulling her weight.”

“I guess.” Not that there was a lot of weight to pull at Splash. Quite honestly, I could handle it by myself. But still …

I glanced around and spotted Sean sitting at a table beneath an umbrella. “Although I’m really not sure my talking to him is going to do any good.”

“Why not?” Caitlin asked.

“Because he’s eating lunch with her.”

Caitlin glanced over her shoulder. “That’s Whitney? That blond?”

“Yeah.”

“How many bleach strips does she use? I mean, really, have you ever seen teeth that white?”

“You should see them when the sun bounces off them — or her gold watch. It’s blinding. I think the watch is a Cartier.”

“No way.”

“Looks like it.”

“Why would she wear it to a water park?”

“I don’t know, Caitlin. I can’t figure her out.”

She studied them for a minute. “Looks like he’s actually talking to her. He’s smiling.
I wonder if she’s the girl he’s been dreaming about.”

“He talks to you about girls?”

“No, but he doesn’t always close his door when he’s on the phone, and if I need to stop in the hallway and catch my breath on my way to my bedroom” — she shrugged — - “you know, sometimes I can’t help but hear things.”

I laughed. She could be so outrageous. So without remorse. She was always spying on him, and then telling me what she’d found out.

“Anyway, I heard him telling someone that a new cute babe was going to start working at the park this year. Sounded like maybe he was really interested. Maybe it’s her,” Caitlin said.

Whitney laughed at something Sean said.

“She seems to like him,” I muttered, wondering why it bothered me.

“He can be pretty entertaining when he wants to be.” She twisted back around and
lay back. “So you’re probably right. Complaining to him might not get you anywhere, but still you need to tell him. It’s his job.”

“It’s not like it’s hard work or anything. It’s just the principle of the thing. You know?”

“I hear you, girlfriend.”

What was it about Whitney that he liked? Other than the fact that, as she so succinctly put it, she was adorable? I wasn’t hideous or anything, but I didn’t think I’d ever announce — especially to someone I’d just met — that I was cute.

“Okay, check out that guy,” Caitlin said, bringing my attention back to the reason we were eating lunch at Tsunami. Because of the scenery. Working at a water park gave us the real lowdown on how fit guys were.

The guy in question was obviously a lifeguard, walking along the edge of the pool. He had brown hair. He looked like he was a little older than us. Totally cute.

“So what do you think?” Caitlin asked.

“Huh?”

“His kiss factor. What would you rate him, on a scale of one to ten? One being a toad. Ten being Zac Efron.”

“But a frog can turn into a prince.”

Yes, I was a hopeless romantic.

“You know what I mean. Would you kiss him?”

I considered her question, considered the guy. I nodded. “Yeah, probably.” Maybe. I don’t know. The real question was: Would he kiss me?

“Yeah, me too.”

“Are you interested in him?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Wish we had a way to meet all the guys at once so we could narrow down our choices.”

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to date someone we work with?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Well, if things don’t work out, we’ll see him every day.”

She shrugged. “We just have to make sure things work out.”

She sounded so confident. It was one of the things I’d always like about Caitlin — she wasn’t afraid of anything. She thought she could always succeed. Even if she hadn’t had a boyfriend yet. It was just a matter of time.

Caitlin pulled a teen mag out of her tote, opened it to a page she’d marked with a sticky note. “Here’s a guide to knowing when you’re ready to kiss a guy. There’s even a test, so you can score your readiness. I’ll read the questions, you give me your answers.”

Caitlin was always taking the tests in magazines. If she did as well on her tests at school as she did on the magazine tests, she’d graduate valedictorian.

“Number one. Whenever you see him,
A
your heart pounds,
B
you feel nauseous,
C
you walk in the opposite direction.”

I, on the other hand, did horrible on these things. And okay, I usually cheated, looking to see which score I needed to give me the rating that I wanted. “Isn’t there an ‘all of the above’?” I asked.

“No, you have to choose.”

I didn’t want to choose. I didn’t want to do a stupid test. My supervisor was having lunch with the laziest employee at the park. What were the odds that he might be telling her to get her act in gear?

Or was he agreeing with her — that she was too adorable to believe? And why did I care if he thought she was adorable?

“How ’bout if I give you the test?” I suggested.

“Oh, I already took it,” Caitlin said.

“How’d you score?”

“Perfect ten. ‘Pucker up, you’re ready!’”

I settled back against the lounge chair. “I don’t need to take a test. I know the answer. I’m ready, too.”

But the thing was, just because I was ready, didn’t mean it was going to happen. Because the truth was: It took two.

Much to my surprise, that afternoon, time flew. Maybe because I was concentrating on ignoring Whitney as she worked on her tan. Obviously Sean hadn’t given her a reality check. So I was the one trying to convince a mother that rushing her bawling son down a slide would not stop him from crying — shouldn’t parenting require a license?

The kid was obviously terrified. It was cruel to push him down the slide. I wasn’t going to do it. I wasn’t going to help her hold him in the tube so he’d learn it wasn’t scary. When the mom finally took her upset child
away, I turned to find a tall girl with red hair telling me it was time for a break.

Some kid-sized tables with benches were set around the outskirts of our area. I headed for one and sat down. My knees nearly hit my chest. The table had an umbrella canopy so I got some relief from the sun. I removed my tube of sunblock from my hip-pack and started applying it. By the end of summer I was going to be beyond a golden tan.

When I was finished, I put my sunblock away and sat back, absorbing the energy of the park. The cacophony of noises — - screams, yells, laughs, splashes — might give some people a headache, but I loved them. They generated excitement, confirmed that people were having a good time, enjoying themselves. From here, I could look in the distance and see some of the huge slides and tubes that gave Thrill Hill its name.

I got one day off a week. I wondered if when that day came around I’d be sick of this place or if I’d want to come here to play.
Right now, I really had an urge to sit in some water and cool off.

I was thinking about taking a walk, wading through Lost Lagoon. It was a large shallow pool in the middle of Mini Falls. A wrecked pirate ship was in the middle. Kids climbed over it. Explored it. Slides brought them back into the water. Water guns were mounted along the deck so kids could spray water on those in the pool.

Sean suddenly appeared and sat at my table on the bench across from me. He slid a little plastic cup of strawberry ice cream toward me. “Here.”

“Did you get this from the ice-cream guy?”

“Yeah, Jake. It’s no big deal. Employees can have free ice cream or drinks when they’re on break. Figured you deserved a treat.”

“How did you figure that?”

“Saw you dealing with that mom. What was her problem anyway?”

“She thought her kid was being a
baby. Hello?!?
He is a baby.”

“They’ll let anyone be parents.”

His comment gave me a chill since I’d been thinking almost the same thing. I picked up the cup of ice cream. “How did you know strawberry was my favorite?”

“
Puh-leze
. Mom keeps a carton in the freezer with your name on it for when you come over.”

I don’t know why I was surprised he knew my favorite ice cream. I knew his. I could have told him without looking that he had chocolate.

He took a bite and worked his mouth before asking, “So other than dealing with insane parents, how do you like working here?”

“It’s torture. Absolute torture.”

He took off his sunglasses. I was always surprised by how blue his eyes were. Caitlin’s were, too, but somehow his were a deeper hue. “What’s going on? Is someone not working?”

Was he serious? Was he not looking around? Not observing everything? What kind of supervisor was he?

Now was the time to mention Whitney, but in a moment of irony, she was, at that second, helping a kid into a tube. So how could I complain about someone not doing something when she was doing it?

Besides, Sean looked so serious, so concerned, that I felt a little bad for making him worry. And I really didn’t want to ruin the moment. It was kinda nice. I’d never had a guy bring me ice cream before.

“No, it’s just hard to work with all this water calling to me. Don’t you want to be out there making a splash, creating waves, plummeting down slides?”

“You know, since I started working here, I’ve kinda forgotten how to enjoy it.” He shook his head and smiled slightly, like he was amused by the thought. He slipped on his sunglasses and looked out toward the park where all the action was.

Three little kids scampered by. Sean blew his whistle. “No running!”

They stopped immediately, walked for several steps, then ran again.

“Kids,” he muttered.

“Caitlin said you didn’t want to work in Mini Falls.”

“She tells you everything, doesn’t she?”

“Pretty much. So where did you want to work?”

“Marketing.”

I shook my head. I knew what marketing was, but I didn’t know how it worked here. “Where’s that?”

“In the main office. You brainstorm ideas, create flyers, help with advertising. You get to be creative. Working the park, there just aren’t a lot of ways to tell kids to slow down. It gets a little boring.”

Sean was very artistic. He’d taken art classes. His mom had framed some of his work and hung it in their game room, so I knew how talented he was. Plus I’d seen some of his work displayed at school.

“You’d be good with that,” I said.

He grinned, a crooked grin, like maybe he was a little embarrassed that I would praise him.

“You think so?” he asked.

“I know so. I’ve seen your work. You’re good.”

“Thanks.”

We settled into silence. For a few minutes, we simply ate our ice cream. More kids rushed toward where we were sitting, slowed down when they saw us, sped up once they were past — like maybe the rules were “no running if a lifeguard was around, otherwise it was okay.” A few older kids were around, obviously babysitting, and a lot of parents, because kids age six and under did have to be accompanied by a parent. Although we did have a Castaway hut where lost — or marooned — kids were taken.

I didn’t know how people lost their kids, but they did. On the other hand, if I was the kid whose mom was trying to force me to go down the slide, maybe I’d run away.

“I just want you to know that I can’t give you any special treatment,” Sean said after a while.

I tapped my spoon against the cup and peered over at him. “Did I ask?”

“No, but, this is awkward.”

I didn’t get it. “What is?”

He took another bite of ice cream like he needed time to think about his answer.

“My being your supervisor. You being Caitlin’s friend. I mean, you’re gonna run and tell her everything I do wrong —”

“Wait.” I shook my head. “You? Do something wrong?”

“I know. Hard to imagine, but —”

Had I actually teased him and he’d teased back? That was even harder to imagine than him making a mistake.

“
Did
you do something wrong?” I asked.

“No, but I’m the youngest supervisor, so I’m on probation. I can’t afford to make any mistakes or to have gossip going around. And I have to give you orders, and I need you to show respect when I do.”

“‘Show respect’? Who are you? Tony Soprano?”

“There. See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

I looked down at my bare feet. At his. His were so much bigger. How cool was it to work someplace where no shirts, no shoes were no problem? I lifted my gaze back to his. “Can’t you, like, I don’t know, get me transferred to another section of the park? One with cooler rides?”

“I already did that for Caitlin. I can’t keep asking for favors.”

“You got Caitlin that job?”

He suddenly looked embarrassed. He gave a little shrug. “Don’t tell her, okay? I mean, it was no big deal. I knew it was the job she wanted, and I didn’t want her complaining all summer if she didn’t get it. It would make all our lives miserable and you know it.”

I felt really disloyal to Caitlin, because I did know it. Still I didn’t nod, just sat there waiting for him to continue.

“But I can’t keep bugging them about moving people around. Besides, it’s your first year. You gotta earn the better jobs.”

I almost said, “I have to earn them, but Caitlin doesn’t. Not fair.” But I didn’t. He was just a first-year supervisor. He had limited powers. And quite honestly, I was impressed that he’d gotten Caitlin the job she wanted — even if his reasons weren’t the best. He hadn’t had to do it.

“So are we cool with this?” he asked.

He didn’t want to be my supervisor. I didn’t want to work for him. How could we be cool with it? Still, what choice did I have? Unless I went to management and asked for a transfer. They’d want to know why. So I’d either look like someone who didn’t work well with others or they’d think he was a bad supervisor, which so far he hadn’t been.

“Yeah, okay,” I said.

“Good.” He scooped up some ice cream. “Thanks. I know it’s pretty much one of the worst jobs around. Well, except for picking up trash.”

“Nah, it’s worse than picking up trash. At least with trash pickup, you get changes of scenery.”

And changes in scenery usually included guys a lot older than four.

He grinned. “Yeah, you’re right. Loading little snotty-nosed kids — I hated the job.”

“You worked it?” I asked, surprised.

“First summer. Thought it would never end.”

“Am I going to have to do this the whole summer?”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll have a word with your supervisor.”

“You’re my supervisor.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I know — shoot! I gotta go.”

Tossing his ice-cream cup into the trash can as he went past it, he walked over to Lost Lagoon.

A couple of lifeguards — a guy and a girl — were standing there talking, laughing. The guy pulled her close, kissed her.

It was really none of my business, but still I watched as Sean approached them. I’m no expert at reading body language but once Sean broke them up, it was pretty obvious that no one in that little group was happy. The girl finally flounced away. I’d never seen anyone actually flounce before, but it was clear she’d had enough of whatever was being said.

The guy and Sean talked for a little longer. When Sean turned to leave, the guy stuck out his tongue.
Very mature.

When Sean turned back, the guy looked all innocent.

Until that moment, I hadn’t considered how difficult it was to be a supervisor. Sean had probably worked with a lot of these people last summer, and now he had to tell them what to do. And worse than that, he had to get after them if they weren’t doing what they were supposed to.

It was strange, because suddenly I wasn’t looking at Caitlin’s brother anymore.

I was looking at a supervisor. My supervisor.

Tapping the ice-cream cup, I couldn’t help but realize that I was actually impressed. How strange was that?

*  *  *  

“I couldn’t tell Sean about Whitney,” I said to Caitlin later when we were in the locker rooms changing out of our uniforms.

“Why not?”

“It just seemed so, I don’t know, childish. You know. ‘Please, make her work.’ I just couldn’t do it.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Caitlin said, slipping into her sparkly flip-flops. She was all about the sparklies.

“What? No, don’t do that. I’ll do it.” I slung my tote bag over my shoulder and followed her outside.

“What I don’t understand,” she said, “is why Sean put you in charge of her.”

“I’m not really in charge —”

“I mean, seriously, how many people does it take to work Splash?”

Okay, she had a point.

“It’s like he’s picking on you — punishing you for being my friend.”

Okay, that seemed a little extreme — the punishing part anyway. But she was right. Until today, Sean had pretty much avoided me. Obviously, I wasn’t one of his favorite people, so yeah, maybe he was picking on me a little. But then he’d brought me ice cream, so I really didn’t know what to think. Had he done it as a supervisor, Caitlin’s brother, or for another reason? To show he liked me?

I was making sharing ice cream way too complicated.

Sean was standing at the gate, talking to Whitney. He said good-bye to her. She gave me a little finger wave that for some reason I didn’t quite trust. What had she been telling him? Still I waved back at her, then followed Sean out through the gate.

“So, is
she
your new girlfriend?” Caitlin asked.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, she’s not my girlfriend,” Sean said.

“Do you want her to be your girlfriend?” Caitlin asked.

“Okay, see? I try to be nice and answer your questions and then you start getting nosy.”

“So, the answer is yes.”

Sean glanced over his shoulder at me. “I don’t know how you put up with her as a friend.”

“Better me as a friend than you as an enemy,” Caitlin said.

He snapped his gaze to her. “What does that mean?”

“She told me about you assigning your girlfriend to Splash.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Sean repeated.

We’d reached the car, but instead of unlocking the doors he turned to face me. “I thought you’d get along with Whitney.”

Suddenly I was the bad guy here?

“We didn’t
not
get along. She just sorta has this attitude, like, she doesn’t have to do anything.”

He shrugged. “Give her a break. She’s never worked before.”

“Neither have I, but I know I’m not being paid to admire my toes.”

His mouth twitched, and I could tell he was trying not to smile.