Part One - 2007
I keep my eyes closed, careful not to move a muscle until I hear the quiet click of the cabin door. If my roommate knows I’m awake, he’s likely to start talking about rocks again. The guy is nice enough, but terribly boring and annoying. Blake started scheduling us on opposite shifts to facilitate my avoidance strategy.
Working at my best friend’s resort has its perks. Blake Remington was my roommate during my first year at the University of Michigan. We hit it off, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. I’m from Ann Arbor, but I stayed in residence that first year because my mom wanted me to have the full college experience. I lived at home for the next two years to save money. Blake stayed at our house, his room and board providing some much-needed extra cash.
When Blake offered me a job at his family’s resort in Montana this summer, I jumped at the chance to get away from Michigan. Working as a lifeguard at an indoor water park sounded like a pretty cool gig.
My stomach grumbles, prompting me to drag my ass out of bed and hit the shower.
I’ve gotta get up earlier if I want more than a trickle of lukewarm water to wash myself in. How can they pump gallons of water through the water park, but fail to provide enough for the employees to take a decent shower? I shouldn’t complain. Remington’s treat their staff well.
I suck in deep gulps of air as I walk down the well-worn path toward the dining hall, the wood chips crunching under my feet. I’ve been here for a month, but I’m still not used to the mountain air.
After a quick cursory glance around the cafeteria, I head to the self-serve food station. A few other staff members are scattered at the long tables. A blonde chick with a great rack lifts her head and shoots me a seductive grin. I’ve worked with her a couple of times.
The lifeguards work in pairs, rotating around the various slides and attractions in the water park. I can’t remember her name. She always comes on to me, flaunting her big tits. But there’s nothing going on upstairs. I prefer a girl who can carry on a conversation.
I survey the hot food options, lifting the metal lids to take a peek at the contents. The last one catches my attention, offering up some kind of meat and egg mixture. I scoop a generous portion on my plate, grab a glass of orange juice and settle at an empty table. The mystery dish is delicious, delivering a taste explosion in my mouth with a bit of everything in it. Scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, bacon, sausage and ham pulled together with melted cheese and a hint of syrup.
I have to compliment the person who whipped up the tasty dish I just consumed. And I have a pretty good idea who it was. The same girl who bakes delicious cookies every morning. I deposit my dirty dishes in the bin and return my tray before heading toward the kitchen door.
The heavenly aroma of fresh baked cookies reaches my nostrils as I round the corner by the massive fridge and spot her pulling trays out of the oven.
“Did you make that yummy breakfast thing?” I ask in a low whisper.
She jumps, almost dropping the tray of cookies. When she spins around, her face lights up as she sees me lurking by the fridge where the chef can’t see me. Nobody is supposed to be in the kitchen unless they work there.
“Hi, Alex,” she gushes, her chubby cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. “I made it. Did you like it?”
I don’t know her name. I’ve never asked. Some of the lifeguards nicknamed her Bubba Chunks. She’s a big girl.
Big doesn’t accurately describe the blonde sous chef. The girl is obese. She limps when she walks, her massive legs rubbing together as her front ass sags over her thunder thighs.
I’m not a shallow asshole, but I could never fuck a fat chick. I mean, how would I even find her hole under all that blubber?
Okay. That’s harsh. Maybe I am a bit of a jerk.
“I loved it. What kind of cookies you got there, sweetheart?”
“Oatmeal raisin,” she giggles. “You want one?”
“How about two or three?”
“You got it,” she whispers, wrapping three cookies in a napkin and handing them to me.
“Thanks.” I wink at her before sneaking back the way I came.
I glance at my watch as I approach the employee entrance to the water park. The evening shift tends to be markedly busier than the day shift, and it usually goes by quickly.
I don’t mind the job, despite the monotony. There are worse things I could be doing for money than putting people on rafts and sending them down a slide. I’m not anticipating any big rescues in an indoor water park.
I turn to see Blake jogging toward me.
“Hey, man. What’s up?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that you’re working with Gretchen’s friend tonight.” His mouth breaks out in a sly grin. “I think you’re gonna appreciate that.”
“Oh yeah?” I punch in the security code and push the door open. “She hot?”
He follows me into the change room, leaning on my locker door while I change into my lifeguard shirt. “Just between you and me?” he says under his breath.
“Sure. I’m not gonna tell your girlfriend,” I chuckle, shaking my head.
“She’s not hard on the eyes, man. That’s all I’m gonna say.”
“Okay. I’m looking forward to meeting her. But isn’t she a high school girl?”
“She was. They graduated last night.” He tilts his head. “Remember? I went to Missoula yesterday for the ceremony? And I brought Gretchen and Shelby back with me this morning.”
“Oh right,” I laugh. “Sorry. I forgot. You must be pretty happy to have your girl up here. Must be nice to know you’re gonna get laid.”
“Oh yeah.” He grins from ear to ear. “You could get pussy anytime you want. There are all kinds of hot chicks working here that would be more than willing to service you.”
“Yeah, maybe. I haven’t met one yet that interests me enough to bother. And I doubt a little high school chick is going to turn my crank.”
“Shelby is a pretty cool girl. She’s smart. Going to Columbia. She’s gonna be an orthodontist.” He folds his arms across his chest, raising his eyebrows as he tries to marry me off to this girl I’ve never met. “She’s on the rebound too. Just broke it off with her high school boyfriend.”
“Okay. Thanks, Blake. I can find my own girlfriend. But I appreciate what you’re trying to do.” I slam my locker door shut and head down the hall toward the park.
“Have fun,” he calls after me. “You’ll be thanking me tomorrow!”