Atlantis Riptide

Atlantis Riptide - Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Phenomenally Fumed

My. First. Kiss.

My heart tripped. Warmth flooded through my veins. My insides went soft and mushy. I wanted to lean against him. Forever.

Forever?

Suddenly, my body froze. What was I doing? My eyes opened wide  like the circus arena in the big tent. Being friends was one thing, but this—whatever this was—was not right. I barely knew Chase. He knew nothing about me.

I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him away. “I can’t do this.”

What I protested I wasn’t sure. The kiss? The friendship? Any kind of bond with another human being?

I twisted around and ran toward the path leading to the campground. I had to get away. To think. My breath came out in shallow pants. I tripped on the sand and fell to my knees.

I stood and scrambled up the small hill where the grove of trees broke the strong breeze off the ocean, and stared back.

Chase still stood in the same place, a thoughtful expression on his face. His hair blew in the wind and his arms dangled at his side. The flashlight beam focused on one spot of sand.

Shame flooded my veins, heating my body. I’d run away not like the sixteen-year-old I was, or the eighteen-year-old I pretended to be. I’d run away like a baby.

Not inconspicuous at all.

***

Swish. Swish. Swish. The scrub brush scraped against the blue concrete lagoon walls. Yellow caution tape circled the area saying “Keep Out,” but my boss had left instructions to go around and get inside. I’d clocked in before seven this morning to clean the lagoon before the inspection later in the day. While not big, the pool had a lot of wall space to clean. I was still fried about my boss nixing my day off, but I needed the money.

Even wearing a mask, the chlorine-like scent burned my nostrils and my throat had that raw, scratchy feeling you get right before a cold starts. My hands hurt from gripping the giant brush and my sandaled feet squished in the small amount of dirty water left at the bottom of the pool.

“Hello. You down there.” Sarah Fowler, owner of the Mermaid Beach Boardwalk, called from the other side of the railing. “Are you from the custodial team?”

No, I wanted to inhale a few fumes. “Yeah.”

“I’ve got something for you to install.” She glanced around and then held up a box. “We need to get it done before the inspection.”

We? I arched a brow. I couldn’t imagine Mrs. Fowler climbing into the empty lagoon and doing the dirty work. Not in her flowered dress and high heels. With her hair pinned up in an old-fashioned bun, she looked like a mom from a classic fifties sitcom.

“What is it?” I set down the brush, walked over to the ladder and climbed up.

“New safety cover for the up-flow filter.” She handed me the box and I caught a whiff of her heavily floral scented perfume. “Instructions are inside.”

“But I’m not a gadget gearhead.” The Boardwalk had a fleet of guys who ran around and fixed the rides when they broke down, which happened often from what I’d observed.

“Should be easy. Just tighten a few screws.”

“But—”

“I wouldn’t normally ask, but all the mechanics are busy and this needs to get done. We want this lagoon to sparkle during inspection. Wouldn’t want The Mermaid Beach Boardwalk to get a bad reputation.” She sounded like a cheerleader at a prep rally. “Thank you for helping out.”