I chill on the edge of lifeguard tower number sixty-eight, with my legs dangling off the rim; waiting for something bad to happen. That’s what the seven week training course was all about. Waiting, watching, and waiting some more. Maybe there was a little on saving lives too.  I peer over my shoulder, leaning onto my right hand to see Tom standing up with black binoculars glued to his blue eyes. I shake my head, a smile pulling at my lips as I follow his gaze to a group of teen girls half naked, cooking in the warm sand. Classic Tom. Always knows what he’s looking for, I swear he could get a girlfriend faster than he could save someone from drowning. I let out a deep breath as I let my eyes fall back to the dark ocean out in front of me. The sky above is covered with gentle grey clouds making the water look more dangerous than it really is.  A few surfers are out. Sitting on their boards as the waves lift them up and down. My heart tugs in my chest as one of them laughs before falling to his stomach and paddling ahead of a forming wave. To be on my board right now, I’d give any—  I forget everything. My thoughts, the thudding of my heart in my chest, even the fact that I’m alive. A gentle shout breaks through the rush of the waves as girl rises up on her board. Her arms stretched out, her knees bent, her wet hair flying wildly around her. It’s hard to miss the smile on her face that simply says,_ I finally caught my first wave._  I live for that kind of smile. After a few seconds the wave ends and she tumbles into the water. I wait for her to come back up; a few waves crash in the distance. Her black board floated peacefully a few feet from where her wave ended.  The hairs on my arms rise as my legs do the same, pulling me up from the warm, sandy wood to stand on my bare feet.  My heart starts to run in my chest as I run a hand through my blondish hair. Why hasn’t she come back up yet? I’m about to jump down into the warm sand when—fianlly—her blonde head resurfaces from the grey blue water. She lets out a loud cheer, raising her arms into the salty air as a wave comes and nearly pushes her back under. Is it wrong that I was expecting her to freak out? Jump up and down, panic and make herself drown even though she knows she can swim? ‘Cause that’s just pathetic of me, isn’t it?  I can’t control myself anymore. A huge smile breaks across my face as I cup my hands around my lips and shout a quick, “woohoo!”  She brings her gaze on mine, her eyes just tiny black dots staring directly at me. I let my smile die off as she leaps around in the water, dodging waves.  _Wow._ _ _She gives me a huge, perfect-white-teeth-showing, smile as she raises her left hand with her thumb and pinky finger extended out. I can’t help but roll my eyes a little, who is she?  I raise my hand and weakly copy her movement as she lowers her hand back into the water, turning around to grab her board.  I slump back down on the edge of the tower, letting one leg hang off and using the other as an arm rest. I lean into my knee, arm stretched out over it as I watch her drift over small waves on her stomach.  The only thing in my head:  Wow.  “Rudeth!” I’m sucked out of my _wow_ thoughts when I hear my name. Well, a version of it. Only one person calls me that.  “Dude,” I look down at Liam as he holds a steaming can out to me. “Where’s Lane?”  He gives a small shrug, looking quickly over his shoulder. “Over there. She told me I could leave. Got you a rootbeer.”  I let out the breath I was holding in. Sometimes Lane still feels like a little kid even though she’s nearly fifteen. After Dad left it tore Mom apart. She was the kind of little kid who always dreamed of having a perfect little family and when Dad realized that kids got in the way of his rodeo crap he just up and left. Mom adopted Lane a few years later when I was eight. I’ll always be bitter towards the man I’m supposed to love, but in some ways I’m grateful because now we’ve got Lane.  “Thanks, man.” I reach down to his outstretched, tanned arm and grab the icy drink. The warmth of my hand leaves a print on the side of the can as I set it down next to me. “It’s still a sec before my shift’s over. Wanna head to Handwritten after?”  Liam takes a small sip of his diet coke as he stares up at me. “Sure, man. Do you have sunscreen? If I stay here three hours I’m gonna do more than tan.”  I let a smile set on my lips as I laugh, reaching behind me for my beach bag which is a grey plastic Walmart bag, but it works just as well. I searched around my towel, my shirt I’d taken off when it got hot, and my phone before I found the yellow bottle of sun protection.  I toss it down to Liam who catches it even though he’s in the middle of a drink. I swear the guy missed his calling with pretty much any sport that requires catching a ball.  “Awesome,” he smiles up at me as he wipes the back of his hand over his lips.  “Give it to Lane when you’re done,” I told him. I’d do it myself but I need to stay on watch. Plus, Liam’s going to be heading Lane’s way anyways. “Sure thing.” He replies as he starts his trek through the piles of sand over to Lane who’s bent over her legs digging around in the sand, looking for shells.  . . . After three more hours of sitting and watching and drinking one can of ice cold rootbeer my shift is finally over.  I shrug my white t-shirt over my head as I head inside the tower’s small room to get the _Lifeguard Off Duty _sign_ _and hang it over the window.  “Hey, Rudy!” Tom calls to me as he walks over from his tower. He has a single blue and white striped towel hanging over his bare left shoulder and one pair of pitch black sunglasses resting on top of his head, holding his dark brown bangs out of his face.  “Tommy.” I smile as I jump off the tower and land in front of him. The Walmart bag makes a crinkling sound as I steady myself in the sand. “You coming to Handwritten for a burger?”  We start sludging through the thick sand as Tom nods his head. “You bet, the rest of the crew coming?” The sidewalk meets out bare feet and we both drop our flipflops to the ground and slip into them. “Liam and Lane. I’m not sure about Minho though. Haven’t seen him lately.”  Tom lets out a long sigh. “Yeah, he’s been MIA.” The rest of the walk to Handwritten is silent. Filled with the clicking of our flipflops on the pavement and—like always—the gentle breathing of the ocean. The sun is still making its way out of the sky, but besides a little dark purple, it’s pretty much all black now.  Liam and Lane are laughing outside of the restaurant when we get there. They left about an hour before Tom and my shift ended. I force a smile and meet both of their eyes. It’s still a little weird to see shy, little Lane budding around with my best friend.  “You guys been waiting out here this whole time?” Tom questions as he swipes his towel off his shoulder and places it into his red back pack. He grabs out a worn grey shirt, scrunches it up and pulls it down his body.  “Nah,” Liam smiles. He stretches out an arm and wraps it around my sister's shoulder. This makes her laugh and look down. Is she blushing? “We walked on the pier, got snow cones, traded shells, and. . .” he looks down at my sister's dirty blonde hair, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he rethinks his day.  “Oh!” Lane holds her hand up like she’s asking permission to speak. “We listened to this dude playing guitar over by—” Liam snaps his fingers. “Right! By that old lemonade place.” They both smile at each other like remembering what happened an hour ago is a big accomplishment. I mean maybe if they were old, dying and had Alzheimer's it would be something to celebrate but, Liam and Lane. . .they’re in the prime of their lives. And this. . .thing happening between them. No. Not good.  Tom nudges my shoulder and I look up at him. He’s three inches taller than me which doesn’t seem like a lot but it is. He leans down and mumbles: “Man, you keep staring at them like that, they’re gonna be able to read your thoughts.” I shake my head slightly and look over Liam’s shoulder at the glass door and the bright, warm light inside of it. I’m hit with the urge to push past them all and throw open the doors to the small half bar-half dinner standing in front of me. I’m begging the universe to turn back time, make me ten again, squeezing my mom’s hand so hard that I cut off her circulation; as little Lane hovered behind her other leg. Ten year old Tom and Liam crashed into us as we stood and waited for a table. Both so lost in laughter that we never got an apology, but friends instead. Best friends.  I meet Liam’s eyes as he brushes a hand over his frosted tip, light brown, curly hair. What I’d give to see his hair just plain brown. To see his arm pushing Tom instead of pulling my little sister closer to his side.  They’re not a thing. Thank God. But the way he’s been looking at Lane for the last few months. . .the way she’s been looking at him. So intensely and caring and full of this energy not even movies are able to capture on screen. They may just be friends on the outside but on the inside they’re way more than passing strangers. I wish I could be happy for them. I wish for it every day and night when the time hits 11:11.  _Be happy for them, Rudy. _ Tom warps his arm around my shoulders and pinches the side of my neck. “I’m serious, man.” He grunts through gritted teeth.  He’s right.  “Sounds fun,” I finally managed to say. Please, please tell me I wasn’t standing in silence for longer than thirty seconds. “Shall we.” I wave my hand past _Liam and_ _Lane_—gahhhhhh.  Spinning on their heels they both turn around, and Liam, like the true gentleman he is, slides in front of Lane and pulls open the door. I smile.  _Be happy for them. _ It takes about five seconds for us all to put in our orders as we sit up at the counter that faces the huge glass window. A plate of noodles for me with a huge, huge bowl of parmesan, a burger for Liam—of course with fries, a strawberry salad for Lane, and for Tom fried salmon with some kind of pie for dessert.  Same old, same old.  Tom and Liam get lost in conversation, laughing. At one point Liam tosses a fry at Tom’s perfectly tanned face to distract him so he can steal a bite of Tom’s mixed berry—I’m guessing—pie. Lane and I sit next to each other staring out the window as the sky dies. Across the street are more little restaurants all smashed together. Lots of people walk by, mostly couples or families, their smiles all illuminated by the dull glow of the tall street lamps.  Nights like this are nights that remind me of all the good times in my life.  Moving here when I was two Watching my mom create her life, without my dad, even though it killed her to let him go When Mom decided she wanted more kids and adopted Lane when I was eight Finally getting to see Lane open up Meeting Tom, Liam, and Minho _Cheering for that girl on the beach. . .___ __ _God. . .Rudy!_ Why am I so incredibly hung up on someone I don’t even know? I mean sure she felt different. But that’s the thing, she _felt _different. She’s probably like everyone else, interested in guys like Tom. Strong, lots of muscle, perfect hair, never wears his shirt, cool, sweet. . .I could go on forever about all the things that make me invisible to girls. I burn instead of tan, my hair always looks messy even when I brush it, I have some muscle but not like Tom’s massive should-be-on-TV body. And the biggest most important reason: I cannot for the life of me, be the real me around girls. I act like an idiot. That’s why I’ve never asked a girl to any type of school dance or to any of the beach parties that some of the populars at school throw. I wouldn’t even say yes to myself, why should I expect someone smarter, prettier, funnier, and just plain better than me to do what I wouldn’t?  I let out a small gasp as I lift my chin off my hand. Lane taps me gently on my shoulder as she leans her lips close to my ear.  “Hey, Rudy.” She whispers her voice so comforting in a way I can’t explain. It’s almost like having a meditation on. “You should just ask her out.”  I fight to hold in a laugh, it comes out as a snort. I meet her minty gaze. “What?”  Lane widens her eyes and presses her lips together. “Whoever has you staring like the star of a romantic comedy out the window. The. Girl.”  _The girl. _ _ _I give my head a little shake. “Nah, Lane. That’s gonna be a freaking hard pass for me.”  Lane rolls her eyes. “Come on, Rudy. The whole eightish years that I’ve known you, you’ve never asked a girl out. Or even let them see how amazing you are. I’m just telling you this because I’m tired of the world missing out on its share of Rudy.”  Again, I wanna laugh. This sounds a lot like the little speech I gave Lane two years ago when she wasn’t going out with friends. When she was mostly silent and shy as heck. I remember using the_ world missing out_ line. The next couple of months flew by and suddenly Lane was tagging along with me and my buddies. Next thing I know she and Liam can’t seem to spend enough time together.  “Thanks for that, little sis.” I put an arm around her and pull her head to my chest as I use my other hand to mess up her long blonde hair. She giggles pushing me away and flashing me with a lighthearted smile.  “I’m dead serious.” Her gaze turns hard and cold. “If you don’t ask out that girl. Then I will.”  I roll my eyes. “Okay, first.” I hold up one finger. “You don’t even know if there is a girl, and if there is one how would you know what girl out of this world of girls. And second.” I hold up my middle finger, throwing my two fingers at her face. “Have fun asking her out. Lemme know how it turns out for you two.”  Lane’s eyes light up as she shoots a finger at my chest. “Aha! So, you admit there is a girl!”  My cheeks prickle with warmth. “No, I said nothing.”  Lane lets out a little satisfied laugh as she rests her forearms on the wood counter in front of us. “Ask her out, Rudy.”  My heart leaps in my chest at the thought. Seeing her eyes on mine—I wonder what color they are—maybe she’ll smile, maybe she’ll say yes. I sigh, it’s a whole lot of maybes. But. . .maybe isn’t no. . .right?  I let my head hang low as I give Lane a sideways glare. “Fine.”  _Ask her out. . ._ What did Lane think, it was normal for a random person to walk up to another random person and say: “Hey go out with me. You don’t know me, I could be a murderer.” Yeah, right Lane. There’s no way I’m asking that girl out.  Right. . .?