Forbidden Affairs
She moved like someone doing something wrong, because she was.
No swimming after dark.
That was the rule.
And he enforced it.
The lifeguard.
He wasn’t staff from the motel, not really. No one seemed to know where he came from. He was just there every summer, perched like a predator in that tall chair from noon until dusk, sunglasses always on, never speaking. His whistle was the only sound he ever made, short and sharp, and every kid who heard it froze. Every adult pretended not to get turned on by the way he filled out those red swim shorts.