Washed Up

Life Preserver

Riley

Life preserver. Noun. [lahyf pri-zurv-er]. A buoyant jacket, belt, or other like device for keeping a person afloat.

What's worse than having to be rescued from almost drowning the ocean? Being rescued by a really hot guy who isn't wearing a shirt. What's worse than that? Having said hot guy yell at me for being stupid enough to swim in the ocean alone.

I am the living, walking definition of mortification.

Just when I thought this summer was taking a turn for the better, I get myself caught in a riptide and almost die. A tiny part of me wishes I would have drowned instead of having to face smug little Lifeguard Larry and his six pack. I storm off the beach in a rage, tripping through the sand and shivering as I go. I think it's safe to say I learned my lesson. No more swimming in the ocean for me.

I find my tank top and shorts on the bench where I left them and I tug them on, still shaking. The skin under my fingernails is turning blue and I feel like I just swallowed a few gallons of saltwater. Delightful.

When I get back to A Pizza the Action, I'm happy to find the Covingtons aren't awake yet. I shed my clothes and climb into the shower, letting the hot water finally raise my body temperature so I don't feel like I have hypothermia anymore.

I can still hear the words of Lifeguard Larry ringing in my ears. "See you later, princess."

I sincerely hope that he's just an over-valiant tourist with a hero complex who's here for the week, but knowing my luck, he won't be. This island's pretty big though; maybe if I avoid the beach in the mornings, I can also avoid his know-it-all frown and blue eyes the color of the ocean.

A few hours later, I'm awoken from my post-shower nap by Lucy singing my name. "Ri-ley, Ri-ley! It's time to wake up!"

It feels like my one and only week of summer camp all over again. "What?" I grumble, trying to sit up and banging my head on the bunk above me.

I am way too old for bunkbeds.

"A Pizza the Action opens in a half hour and we need to be there in fifteen minutes to get everything ready. Remember? You're working today?"

I groan and flop back onto the bed. If I have fifteen minutes, I calculate that I can sleep approximately thirteen more minutes and still make it in time.

"We're getting everything ready. Don't you want something to eat before we start working?"

"Not especially."

Lucy sighs and grabs my arm, pulling me off of the bed. I land on the floor with a bang, bruising my tailbone and my pride at once. She's stronger than she looks.

"Get up! We have a great day ahead of us. Saturdays are always our busiest day!"

I moan again, gingerly rising from my supine position on the floor. "And that's supposed to make me want to work?"

"It'll be a blast! Today's the first day of summer. How can it not be fantastic?" Nothing I say can sour Lucy's ever present cheer. She beams at me, her eyes twinkling into half moons. "So get dressed and let's get going. You have to wear pants past the knees and a t-shirt, plus an apron."
She throws an apron on my bed and bounces out of the room, humming a Christmas song as she goes. I dig through my bag and find a pair of capris and a ratty gray t-shirt. I hold up the apron and grimace. Not only does it have an embroidered pizza and the name "A Pizza the Action" on the front, but it's cardinal red. Everyone will know that I'm employed in slave labor at A Pizza the Action.