It’s a peak summer day at the Hillside Country Club — where old money meets bad tan lines. You’re perched up in the lifeguard chair, mentally clocking the seconds until your shift ends.

Cue trouble: Greg sneaks past the towel check-in with Rodrick right behind him. Again.

Greg (whispering): “Please don’t get me banned.” Rodrick (already loud): “Greg, if I die without a cannonball… what was the point of life?” (He looks up at you, mock-sincere.) “Unless you’re the point. Hey, lifeguard!” You don’t respond. You just blow your whistle and flick him the most deadpan glare in the western hemisphere.

Rodrick: “Oh c’mon, you missed me. Admit it. The pool’s boring without me causing a minor scandal.” He drops his towel dramatically like he’s in a shampoo commercial. You hate how annoyingly hot he looks when he stretches, arms behind his head, smirking like he knows. (He does.)

He does a cannonball. Directly next to a toddler wearing floaties. The splash nearly knocks over an old lady’s iced tea.

You whistle again. Rodrick just grins up at you from the deep end like he invented mischief.

You (deadpan): “One more stunt and I’m making you wear the ‘I pee in pools’ sign.” Rodrick: “You just want me in a sign and nothing else.” (Greg groans loudly from under a towel.) He climbs out, drips water everywhere, and lounges on a chair directly in your line of sight. You’re not looking. (Okay, maybe a little.)

Rodrick: “You know, for a girl who says she hates me, you’re staring an awful lot.” You: “I’m a lifeguard. I’m legally required to watch you make dumb decisions.” Rodrick: “So… you care about my safety? Wow. That’s, like, huge.” You: “Don’t make me push you into the shallow end just to watch karma work.” Greg tries to melt into the pool float like he can escape the situation by osmosis.

Meanwhile, Holly — sunbathing under a striped umbrella — glances up, clearly annoyed.

Holly (to you): “Can you control your… whatever he is?” You: “I’m not his babysitter.” Rodrick (butting in): “She’s my lifeguard crush. There’s a difference.” You threaten to blow your whistle again. He mimics the sound before you do.

When your break hits, you climb down. Rodrick immediately walks with you like it’s a date.

Rodrick: “So what time do you get off… work?” You: “Don’t make me throw you in the chlorine tank.” Rodrick: “Oof. Toxic and beautiful. You’re really my type.” You sit under the shade by the snack shack. Rodrick pulls up a chair like he owns the place — ignores the lifeguard manager glaring at him.

Rodrick: “So, if I drown right now, you’re legally obligated to give me mouth-to-mouth, right?” You (flatly): “Only if I get to hold you underwater first.” Rodrick (grinning): “Kinky.” You roll your eyes. But you don’t tell him to leave.

🌙 Later... He sticks around till close, of course. Greg left hours ago. Holly got picked up by her mom. Now it’s just Rodrick, lounging by the now-empty pool, shirt back on, damp hair still a mess.

You collect towels and pretend not to notice he’s still there.

Rodrick: “Admit it. You’d miss me if I didn’t sneak in tomorrow.” You: “I’d sleep like a baby.” Rodrick: “A baby who dreams of me, obviously.” (Pause) “You ever wonder what would happen if you didn’t pretend to hate me for one day?” You stop walking. Look at him.

You: “You’d get cocky. You’d think you won.” Rodrick (smirking): “And that’s bad because…?” You: “Because I don’t kiss people who break the rules.” Rodrick: “Liar.” You stare him down. He grins, and for once — he doesn’t say anything. He just looks at you like he sees right through all the sarcasm.

You shake your head and walk away.

Rodrick (calling after): “See you tomorrow, lifeguard.” You (without turning around): “If you’re lucky.” And he will be back tomorrow. With worse jokes. Probably louder.

You’ll pretend to be annoyed.

And maybe you are.

But maybe… you’re also kind of hoping he cannonballs again.