"If the water turns dark blue, it means someone's pissed in it."

I saluted lazily, an indication that I was paying attention without having to waste my breath. The annual Splash happened to fall on the day before Christmas. I didn't expect many people to turn up this year, considering it was the perfect opportunity for slackers to buy last-minute presents and for families to start cooking up mouth-watering feasts. But when thirty or so people started loitering around outside the gates, twenty minutes before opening time, I had a feeling there were going to be a lot more.

"What's with the line up?" I asked while Dean explained the pleasures of scooping kiddie crap out of the pool.

"Electricity is down on the other side of town so all the major shopping centres don't have air conditioning," he explained, unlocking a wire crate filled with swimming equipment. "Forecast predicted it to hit forty degrees by midday."

I let out a low whistle.

"Hurry up and get changed," Dean said, in response. "Or you'll be the first to drown."

"Manopause, honey!" Iris shouted from inside the office. "It's just his manopause talking."

"Cheers, Iris!" I bellowed back.

I headed towards the staff bathrooms, gym bag in hand and an unopened uniform in the other. Once I was in a cubicle –this one showcasing a lot of swear words and declarations of love- I opened the plastic bag in which my lifeguard attire came in and got dressed.

When I stepped out, crumpled clothes in my arms, I caught sight of myself in the mirror and Jesus Christ I looked like a human highlighter. The uniform was in the traditional colours of yellow and red, but they were so damn bright that I looked like French fry slathered in mustard and tomato sauce.

So much for looking bronze, buff and badass.

My phone buzzed as I walked out of the change rooms, notifying me about a text from Tess.

Remember, some things are out of your hands. 

I grinned and replied back the same response: some things are out of my hands. I threw my phone into Dean's office for safe keeping and waited while he unlocked the gates and announced the pool was open. Impatient kids, teenagers and exhausted-looking parents burst through the turnstile at an alarming rate.

For the first couple of hours on duty, it was smooth sailing. No one approached me directly, which was good. I don't think anyone recognised me as that-guy-who-saved-that-girl-that-one-time. I wanted it to stay like that. It helped that my duties were pretty low key. 

The high lifeguard chairs and shiny whistles were reserved for the more experienced employees. My job was to walk the perimeter, keeping close attention to the children's section, so I was mostly in the shadows during the summer craze. I liked to think of myself as the ninja lifeguard.

"Oi, new guy."

I looked up. Was Jesus calling me?

"Yeah, you. How do you like your first day on the job?"

Nope. It wasn't Jesus. Just some blond kid, sitting all high and mighty on one of the lifeguard chairs. I shielded the sun from my view and squinted up to look at him.

"It's alright," I answered, shrugging. "I only get half a day on duty, so I guess that's a pretty sweet deal."

"The whole gig is a pretty sweet deal," he replied, grinning. "Bikinis, babes, killer tan. It's any guy's fantasy job. The name's Rob by the way."

"Holden."

"No way. You're that guy who saved that girl, right? Dude, you're like a legend around here. Dean has been bragging about you to all his summer staff. He says we've got expectations to live up to. Man, I never thought I'd actually meet you in the flesh," Rob rambled, climbing down from the chair.

When his bare feet hit the hot concrete, he let out his hand for me to shake. His grip was strong and sturdy. You could tell a lot by someone's handshake. It was evident from the way he handled the greeting that Rob was a confident kind of bloke. Perhaps that was why he was a lifeguard. He wasn't afraid of plunging into dangerous circumstances where death was on the line.

"I've only been on the job for a few hours," I admitted. "You've probably saved hundreds of lives though, aye?"

"Nay," Rob said. "This placed is pretty chill most of the time, especially when Dean does his lunch patrol. Everyone cowers at the sight of him."

"Got that right."

"Seems to have a soft spot for you though," he said, laughing easily as he smacked my shoulder. "You must remind him of Caleb."

"Who's--"

"Hey, man, I should run. It's already past noon and time for a lunch break." He nodded towards the clock near the bleachers. "My lady, The Sandwich, is calling for me. I got a Meatball Supreme from Subway. But I'll see you around when you're officially a full-time lifeguard, yeah?"

I nodded as he jogged towards the staff room. The mentioning of his meatball sub made my stomach growl. Since my shift had ended, it felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders and my stomach had untwisted itself. I was officially off duty, the pressure and expectations fading until I was completely relaxed. Well, almost relaxed. I had to get out of the French fry suit before I could fully be at peace.

As I was walking to a change rooms, there was a wolf whistle. Now, there are three responses to the famous wolf whistle: [a] Ignore it and keep walking, [b] Look around for the sex-on-legs it was supposed to be for or [c] Strut it, like it was meant to be for you. My reaction consisted of the B variety.

"Damn, Holden, you like fine." I recognised the voice instantly and looked towards the canteen where Tess was enjoying a lemonade ice-block.

"Girls were on their knees for me," I answered teasingly.

"No doubt. I mean, who isn't into the walking-yellow-and-red-crayon look." She grinned mischievously. "So, how was your first day?"

"Surprisingly calm," I replied. "But don't jinx me. My shift might be over, but the day isn't. Not until I get out of here and get me some grub."

"Maccas run?" she suggested, biting into her frozen dessert.

"Perfect."

"Just let me finish this," Tess added. "It's been a long day."

"Yeah? What'd you do?" I asked, examining the pool behind her, scoping out any danger as if it were second nature to me.

But the pool seemed pretty normal. Parents in awkward swimsuits were wadding in the children's mushroom pool as they supervised their kids. Teenaged girls were squealing as hormonal guys tried impressing them with who could do the best cannon ball. People were climbing the diving tower and walking the plank before they leapt into the air and plummeted into the depths of the water. 

From where I was standing, I could just make out the silhouette of a scrawny little guy, slowly inching his way to the edge of the diving board. There was always that one brave kid who jumped for cool points from his peers.

"Well, I've secretly been applying to all different places, but I finally did it, Holden! I got a job!"

My attention quickly snapped back to Tess who was grinning at me proudly.

"You got a job?" I repeated, my smile reaching the edges of my face as I picked her up and spun her around. "I'm proud of you, Tess. Where's it at?"

"The Typewriter," she answered.

I had no idea what The Typewriter was.

"I start on Boxing Day!" Tess continued.

I gently placed her back on the ground. "Are you sure you want to start working the day after Christmas? We can just hang out instead; Xbox and Chinese food?"

"I want to start as soon as possible. Besides, Boxing Day is a public holiday. I get time-and-a-half. Pretty good way to start my new job."

I couldn't argue with extra pay. "I guess. But tell me more about The Typewriter."

From behind her, I could still see that one kid, slowly sliding towards the edge of the board and getting ready to jump. Terrified was an understatement with the way his body hunched protectively.

"It's this new hangout on the other side of town, way better than True North. The place has jukeboxes and killer drinks, awesome music and the best décor ever."

"Sounds legit."

"It really is. Seriously, you're going to love it there--"

Whatever Tess was saying, dimmed to silence because I wasn't listening anymore. I was distracted by the boy at the edge of the diving board. I didn't think he was going to jump. But when I blinked, he threw himself off. It took less than three seconds for the drop to continue before he came in contact with the water. Whistles and cheers were made in honour of his bravery. But a twisting sensation knotted itself in the pit of my stomach.

"Holden, are you listening to me?" Tess asked. But when she realised my attention was directed somewhere else, she turned and looked in the direction I was staring. "Looks like someone just made an epic jump."

"He's hasn't resurfaced," I answered, scanning for any sign of the boy, but when he didn't appear in the next few seconds, I bolted for the diving pool. "He's not resurfacing! Tess, call an ambulance."

My heart started hammering as I pushed through hot and sweaty bodies that clustered around the pools. Muscles burned as my bare feet hit the hot surface of the concrete and kept running. A sickeningly bitter taste formed on the back of throat, threatening to expand as the seconds ticked by. 

With Flo, I took action immediately. I was right beside her when the incident happened, giving me an easy start. But with the drowning boy, it was more difficult because of the distance between us.

By the time I reached the pool, the surrounding kids were starting to realise the fault in his dive: the fact that he was still under. People were yelling, traumatised from watching what had happened. But as soon as I hit the edge of the pool, I dove in and let the water surround me, silencing the screams. I swam as deep as I could muster, as fast as I could, no sense of direction as it got darker. But as I swam, I saw a hand. With one more push, I managed to grab his fingers and pull him towards me.

My lungs were starting to burn at that point, as if someone had put them on fire. I desperately clawed my way back towards the surface, but with every movement, it felt like I was just going further down. My body started to beg for air, screaming in desperation, demanding to be heard. The burning turned into an explosion, causing my heart to go into overdrive.

But seeing the boy in my arms, who looked barely thirteen, ignited the determination within me. Adrenaline filled my body and I forced myself to move. In that moment, I felt inhuman, invincible, unnaturally powerful. It was addictive and more importantly, distracting. With my attention on getting out of the water, the eruption in my lungs was nothing but a faint throbbing.

Almost there.

With one last stroke of my arm and one last kick, I managed to resurface, holding the boy's head above the water as I coughed and gasped frantically for air. Each inhale was both pain and pleasure. But I wasn't concerned about my breathing anymore. I was worried about the limp body I had in my arms. When I reached the edge of the pool, I gently lifted the boy out and placed him on the ground.

People surrounded me, suffocated me, stared at me in desperation. I placed my fingers against his neck and checked for a pulse. It took me a frightening second to find it, but I eventually did and felt the faint, but reassuring beat. 

Something within me took over until everything I did was in fast forward. It was like my body was doing movements my brain wasn't even aware of until they were happening. By the time I thought about doing CPR, I was already on my second round of compressions.

Breathe.

But he didn't. I could almost hear his heart slow, threatening to falter completely. My head started spinning as I blew steadily into his mouth. When I sat back and looked at his unmoving body, I felt sick. 

There was nothing else I could do; there was only so much CPR you could perform before it caused more damage than good. I couldn't believe what had happened and my mind refused to believe what I was seeing. He didn't deserve this. He was too young. He was---

--breathing.

Breathing. Spluttering. Choking. Struggling. Moving.

He was alive.

"Give him room," I barked, sounding exactly like Dean. I didn't know I was capable of such a voice until it happened, but I suddenly knew why he used it: it was effective. Instantly, the people spread, stepping back and allowing the kid to have some space.

He coughed uncontrollably, spluttering. And once he had cleared most of the water clogging his lungs, he took short, desperate breaths of air. The whine of a siren filled my ears at that point and I knew that I had done my part.

But could I keep it up?

Did I want to?