The Lifeguard (BxB)

Pierce Nolan

There it is. The homely scent of chlorine, the sound of whistles blaring, the faint sound of music echoing through the vast open space. My comfort zone.

My hair hasn't even fully dried from morning practice but what's the point really? It's just about to get wet again.

"Daniella, right?" I ask the girl covering the check-in counter today. She looked up at me with a slight blush on her cheeks and eyes widened.

"Uhm.. y-yeah. H-hey Pierce." She was able to stutter out. I give her my usual charming smile before signing the check-in log and walking past her.

After 4 years of coming here twice a day, you get to know the familiar faces. I have most of the check-in counter faces down. I was raised to be a gentleman. My mom would never let me live it down if her perfect creation did not keep up appearances. Not that I don't care about politeness or knowing who I see every day, I just grew up with expectations that never let me imagine the alternative. This oh so ingrained way of living has earned me the nickname "southern gentleman" amongst my team-mates. Well that and the fact that I came from Mississippi which has also provided me with my lovely southern accent that I have been trying to tone down now that I am in the midwest.

I guess I should give you some background right? Well not so much to tell really. My dad is your white collar average Joe, my mom a southern belle with a knack for politics. I have two younger sisters, twins, who are juniors in high school. We grew up behind the white picket fence in the suburbs where everyone gossipped behind closed doors but brought pie to the neighbors when they moved in next door. Does it sound like the 1950s? Well you would be right, and it may as well have been. All about appearances and keeping family business behind closed doors.

Hypocritical? Absolutely.

I guess I have some use for it though. I was one of those kids who went to swimming lessons with their stay at home mom because everyone in the mommy group was doing it and she couldn't dare be left out of something. Despite her selfish reasons, that class ended up changing it all for me. It's where I found my peace in the water. It was the quiet nature of being underwater where barely anything could be heard while the cold water provided relief from the Mississippi heat.

My mom was more than happy to accommodate my newfound interest in swimming. After all, it gave her something to brag about, kept me from being a "Shut in", and gave me a reason to keep my grades up in school while also keeping me busy in the summertime.

I didn't care about my mom's alternative motives to her unwavering support of my chosen passion. I won't stand here and pretend I didn't get more out of it than just "something to do." The sport gave individual chances to shine and be competitive, while also having a team. To be honest, most of my teammates in high school were jackasses. They would never let that show though, on paper they were clean as a whistle. Everything was done under the radar, behind closed doors, the kind of guys that had a no phone policy at parties so that nobody could ever risk their shit getting out. That includes hookups.

Now, to what you have all been wondering I'm sure. I'm sorry to dissapoint you, but I never kiss and tell. I was swim team captain in high school and worked hard. I naturally kept up my physique. That should answer your question. What happens are Greg Norris's house, stays at Greg Norris's house.

Now that all was 4 years ago. These days, though still discreet, I can let loose a little. Pretty much, as long as I don't get anybody pregnant, I can hook-up with whoever I want. What can I say, I'm a popular guy with needs. Swimming is my true love, but it doesn't exactly satisfy my friend down under if you know what I mean.

Knowing what I know from being a popular douche in high school, makes me incredibly protective of my younger sisters, specifically Elena. She follows in my footsteps, except with soccer. She's popular at school and no doubt gets invited to the parties that, whoever the new Greg Norris is, throws.

My other sister, Linda, is a copy and paste version of my dad in a female font. Yeah, I haven't mentioned my dad much, and that's because from my conservative, traditional, Mississippi town, the men are the breadwinners. The 1950s really never left there. He was not super involved in raising us, he just made sure there was money to put food on the table. He came to my high school graduation, and to state when I was the anchor for our relay team, but outside of that it was a cordial "how was your day?" At the dinner table and a lifelong history of calling him sir.

Linda, much like my father, is the analytical, logical, introverted sibling. She always had her nose stuffed in a book rather than playing with the other kids at the playground. She was on the school decathlon team, and always presented herself as neat and put together. My mom loved it. She had 3 kids that all had their own area of expertise and a so called "clear path" to success.

I always counted myself lucky that my dream seemed to be in line with my mother's, though for different reasons. For me it always seemed like an escape from the traditional ways in which I was raised. For my mother, it was a way for her to feel like she accomplished something in how she raised us.

I was right on track to get sponsorships left and right as soon as I finished school and went pro, working my way to the Olympics. Of course, who wouldn't want the golden southern gentleman from Mississippi? The one who was raised to avoid scandal like the plague and had an accent to make the customers swoon? Well that plan would get derailed real quick when I was forced to go up to no other than David Charleson.