The Hawkins Community Pool is already packed when they arrive.
Steve parks crooked—because of course he does—and hops out first, sunglasses on, cooler slung over his shoulder like he’s some kind of suburban war hero.
“Boom,” he says. “Best summer decision we’ve made so far.”
Dustin adjusts his hat, squinting at the water. “Statistically, public pools are breeding grounds for foot fungus.”
Steve pats his shoulder. “And yet here you are, fearless.”
Max is already halfway to the entrance, towel over her shoulder, sunglasses pushed up into her hair. “Less talking, more swimming.”
Lucas jogs after her, grinning. Will trails behind them with Mike and El, quieter, observant, taking everything in. Jonathan walks beside Nancy, carrying their bag, while Nancy scans the place like she’s casing a crime scene instead of a pool.
El pauses just past the gate.
Her eyes flick across the bright blue water. The noise. The people. The whistles.
She grips Mike’s hand a little tighter.
“You okay?” Mike asks softly.
She nods. “Yes. Just… loud.”
They claim a patch of concrete near the shallow end, towels spreading out like a temporary truce between chaos and calm. Shoes are kicked off. Steve starts handing out snacks. Dustin immediately argues about chip distribution.
Then—
WHISTLE.
Sharp. Commanding.
Everyone freezes just a little.
Steve looks up first.
“Oh,” he says, the word flattening in his mouth.
Max turns.
Lucas turns.
Nancy turns.
Jonathan turns.
Will stiffens.
El’s brow furrows.
At the tall lifeguard stand, framed by glaring sunlight and bright red shorts, Billy Hargrove leans back like he owns the place. Sunglasses. White tank top. One foot hooked casually on the rung. He blows the whistle again, slow and deliberate, eyes sweeping the pool—
—and then landing on them.
The smile that curls across his face is immediate.
Predatory. Familiar.
“Well, well,” Billy drawls, loud enough to carry. “Look what the chlorine dragged in.”
Max’s shoulders tense. Her jaw tightens.
Lucas mutters, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Steve stands up straight like he’s bracing for impact. “Hey. Lifeguard guy. Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know—guarding lives or something?”
Billy smirks. “I am. From idiots who don’t follow pool rules.”
His gaze flicks pointedly to Max.
The air changes. Even the pool seems quieter, like it knows better.
El watches him closely. Too closely. Something about him makes her uncomfortable in a way she can’t quite name. Loud. Sharp. Like static under her skin.
Mike notices. Shifts slightly in front of her without thinking.
Nancy leans toward Jonathan. “He works here?”
Jonathan shakes his head. “Didn’t know.”
Will swallows. “I don’t like him.”
Billy finally hops down from the stand, slow and deliberate, strides over like a shark circling. He stops just short of their towels.
“Relax,” he says lightly. “I’m working. Wouldn’t want to ruin your little… group outing.”
Max meets his stare, unflinching. “Then don’t.”
For a moment, something flickers in Billy’s eyes—anger, something darker—but then the whistle blows again from another lifeguard across the pool, breaking the tension.
Billy straightens, all charm again. “Rules are rules. No running. No fighting. No—” His eyes flick to Steve. “—heroics.”
He turns and walks back to his stand like nothing happened.
The group exhales collectively.
Steve drops back onto his towel. “Okay. New plan. We stay together. Nobody talks to him. And we definitely don’t drown.”
Dustin raises a hand. “I already wasn’t planning on drowning.”
Max slips her sunglasses back on, gaze fixed on the water. “He won’t ruin this.”
Lucas nods. “Yeah. We’ve dealt with worse.”
El looks at the pool again. Then at her friends. Then back at Billy, high above them, watching.
She squeezes Mike’s hand once more.
“Let’s swim,” she says.