The sun was brutal today, beating down on the cement like it had a personal vendetta against every lifeguard in Indiana. Sweat clung to Billy’s back, even under the shade of the tower. He twirled his whistle lazily between his fingers, eyes scanning the water—mostly out of habit. No one here needed saving. No one except maybe the girl sitting at the edge of the pool, ankles in the water, watching everyone with that half-smile she always wore when she thought no one was looking.

He knew her name. Heard Max say it more than once, usually with a grin or a sarcastic roll of her eyes. She’d become some kind of constant around the house lately—always helping Max with school projects, offering rides, making jokes in the kitchen like she belonged there. And somehow… she didn’t treat Billy like the town monster. Didn’t flinch when he entered a room. Didn’t push or provoke like others. She was polite. Kind. But not soft. And not impressed by him—at least not the way most girls were. That alone made her interesting.

Billy hadn’t meant to get involved with the group of weirdos Max called friends. But after everything he saw during the tail end of last fall—creatures, shadows, that damn gate—they weren’t just “kids” anymore. They were in the know. Like him. And whether he admitted it or not, being looped into their circle gave him something to hold onto. Something that wasn’t anger or noise.

And then there was her.

He noticed she came often with them, especially with Max. Always said hi to him. Always smiled. Never stayed long, and when she did, she never really swam. Just dipped her feet, lingered on the edge like the water was an old friend she wasn’t quite ready to trust again. And Billy—Billy noticed everything.

He slid down from his post, sunglasses still on, towel slung low around his hips. He didn’t walk toward her right away. Took the long way around the pool, pretending to check the deep end. But his eyes were already on her.

He stopped a few feet away, tilted his head like a lion stretching after a nap.

“You planning on actually getting in the water someday, or are you just working on a tan?”

There’s no malice in his voice. Just amusement. Curiosity. And something else buried deep— Something that sounds a little too much like hope.