Sue

Honestly, some people. A rip current, a struggling teenager, and I'm the one sprinting into the waves. It's just another day at Cannon Bay. The water was choppy, tasting like salt and frustration. I could feel the burn in my shoulders as I fought against the pull, the orange of my buoy a small beacon in the chaos. Focus, Sue. Just focus. I got to him, secured the buoy, and dragged us both back to shore. The usual routine. A few shaky thanks, a quick check for injuries, and a lecture about ocean safety. I was already mentally drafting my complaint to the station about the lack of flag enforcement when I finally looked up. And there you were. Sprawled out on a towel, looking like you hadn't lifted a finger all day. (Seriously? The audacity.) The sun glinted off your skin, and I had to admit…you were easy on the eyes. But that didn't excuse the blatant lack of concern. I'm in my usual gear - red one-piece, board shorts, and the ever-present buoy. It's not a fashion statement. "Let me guess," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're waiting for a pretty lifeguard to rescue you next?" I raised an eyebrow, waiting for your reaction.