relentlessly beat down on me, more than it had the day before. Every so often I would head down to the water to cool off a little. Each time I could feel Josh's eyes on me, but we were both too stubborn to be the first one to break our silent standoff. I wished I didn't care, that my mind would stop dwelling on him.
Somehow I managed to clean up about a half-mile stretch of the beach, which felt like a small miracle considering the relenting heat and my hyperawareness of el jerko. My back, which was sore from the previous day, protested the physical labor, but I ignored it. By noon, when a replacement lifeguard arrived to relieve Josh for lunch, I had covered almost as much ground as I had with laid-back Larry the day before. Josh and I climbed on the four-wheeler and headed for a place to eat, although we still weren't speaking. He didn't bother to ask me what I wanted, but I was too tired and hungry to care. A convenience store would have been fine, so the taco stand he chose got no argument from me. I headed to the bathroom to clean up and by the time I returned Josh was already sitting with his lunch. I pulled a sweaty five-dollar bill from my shorts and ordered a couple of tacos and a large Coke before sitting at a table away from him. The break was a welcome relief to my aching body. Once I finished, I tossed my trash in the receptacle and joined Josh, who had risen from his table at the same time. We drove back, still without talking, and Josh resumed his spot on his lifeguard stand. I wanted to throttle him. Demand to know what his deal was, but I kept my mouth firmly closed. I just needed to get through the rest of the day. For the last couple of hours of my work detail, I worked the beach in the opposite direction with neither Josh nor I willing to break.
We arrived back at the patrol office at three o'clock. I handed over my sheet to Josh and waited while he signed off on my time. He returned it without even looking at me. I guess we'd call the day a draw.
Butch picked me up out front again and our conversation went much the way it had the day before, except that I refrained from telling him who I had worked with. I still couldn't wrap my brain around why Josh felt he had a right to be mad at me. Part of me wished I would have confronted him over it. Not that I wouldn't have plenty of opportunities to do that. Surely today wouldn't be the last time we'd work together. It was going to be a very long summer.
Luckily, for the rest of the week I was assigned with Larry. I spent my six-hour shifts repainting lifeguard stands, which was slightly more stimulating than walking around picking up trash. He left me alone for the most part, but during lunch entertained me with old surfing stories. He really was a cool guy to hang out with. At least it helped keep my mind off Josh.
On Saturday I woke to an overcast sky outside. Go figure it happened on the weekend when I wasn't working out in the stifling heat. Opening my windows, I let the ocean breeze blow through my room while I gave it a thorough cleaning. I'd been so busy that I hadn't had a chance to unpack all my belongings after my bathroom construction. Now that I had no part-time job and no friends to speak of, I figured I'd put all my pent-up energy into making my room look the way I wanted. Butch helped by dragging the bookcases we'd discovered in the shed to the carport so I could re-stain them. It was tough work to sand the shelves and strip off the old varnish, but it was worth it when the new stain we applied began to bring out the beauty of the wood. While the shelves dried, I hung up some pictures and other knickknacks to accessorize my room.
By the afternoon, the shelves had finished drying and Butch and Buttercup were in the process of helping me move them into place when Farrah showed up.
"Hey, what's up?" I asked, surprised to see her. Even though she had hinted that she would see me around, I'd pretty much assumed it wouldn't pan out. We came from
Somehow I managed to clean up about a half-mile stretch of the beach, which felt like a small miracle considering the relenting heat and my hyperawareness of el jerko. My back, which was sore from the previous day, protested the physical labor, but I ignored it. By noon, when a replacement lifeguard arrived to relieve Josh for lunch, I had covered almost as much ground as I had with laid-back Larry the day before. Josh and I climbed on the four-wheeler and headed for a place to eat, although we still weren't speaking. He didn't bother to ask me what I wanted, but I was too tired and hungry to care. A convenience store would have been fine, so the taco stand he chose got no argument from me. I headed to the bathroom to clean up and by the time I returned Josh was already sitting with his lunch. I pulled a sweaty five-dollar bill from my shorts and ordered a couple of tacos and a large Coke before sitting at a table away from him. The break was a welcome relief to my aching body. Once I finished, I tossed my trash in the receptacle and joined Josh, who had risen from his table at the same time. We drove back, still without talking, and Josh resumed his spot on his lifeguard stand. I wanted to throttle him. Demand to know what his deal was, but I kept my mouth firmly closed. I just needed to get through the rest of the day. For the last couple of hours of my work detail, I worked the beach in the opposite direction with neither Josh nor I willing to break.
We arrived back at the patrol office at three o'clock. I handed over my sheet to Josh and waited while he signed off on my time. He returned it without even looking at me. I guess we'd call the day a draw.
Butch picked me up out front again and our conversation went much the way it had the day before, except that I refrained from telling him who I had worked with. I still couldn't wrap my brain around why Josh felt he had a right to be mad at me. Part of me wished I would have confronted him over it. Not that I wouldn't have plenty of opportunities to do that. Surely today wouldn't be the last time we'd work together. It was going to be a very long summer.
Luckily, for the rest of the week I was assigned with Larry. I spent my six-hour shifts repainting lifeguard stands, which was slightly more stimulating than walking around picking up trash. He left me alone for the most part, but during lunch entertained me with old surfing stories. He really was a cool guy to hang out with. At least it helped keep my mind off Josh.
On Saturday I woke to an overcast sky outside. Go figure it happened on the weekend when I wasn't working out in the stifling heat. Opening my windows, I let the ocean breeze blow through my room while I gave it a thorough cleaning. I'd been so busy that I hadn't had a chance to unpack all my belongings after my bathroom construction. Now that I had no part-time job and no friends to speak of, I figured I'd put all my pent-up energy into making my room look the way I wanted. Butch helped by dragging the bookcases we'd discovered in the shed to the carport so I could re-stain them. It was tough work to sand the shelves and strip off the old varnish, but it was worth it when the new stain we applied began to bring out the beauty of the wood. While the shelves dried, I hung up some pictures and other knickknacks to accessorize my room.
By the afternoon, the shelves had finished drying and Butch and Buttercup were in the process of helping me move them into place when Farrah showed up.
"Hey, what's up?" I asked, surprised to see her. Even though she had hinted that she would see me around, I'd pretty much assumed it wouldn't pan out. We came from
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