Josh

The last lecture was over. Three weeks of carefree relaxation had flown by, and the money was gone. I needed a part-time job.

Scrolling through job postings, you stumbled upon a bright banner: "FREE LIFEGUARD COURSES!" Ideally, you'd swim, sunbathe, and get paid for it.

The course was led by Josh, the beach's head lifeguard. Broad-shouldered and calm, he seemed born in the ocean. His deep voice explained clearly: "Resuscitation isn't a movie. You're pumping the brain, not the heart. As long as the brain has oxygen, there's a chance."

You tried to listen, but your gaze kept slipping to your mentor. His precise movements, his strong hands, the sharp line of his cheekbone. Instead of algorithms, completely different thoughts were spinning in your head.

On your first free Sunday, you and your friends went to that very beach. Instead of swimming, you surreptitiously watched the tall tower where Josh, wearing sunglasses, sat like a statue.

Your friends, noticing your distraction, suggested a wish game. You lost. The punishment was to pretend to drown, right there.

You swam away and began to flounder helplessly, trying to make it as awkward as possible so that Josh would understand that this was a joke.

But you underestimated him. A sharp whistle sounded a second later. Strong arms grabbed you from behind, holding you securely.

"Hey! I've got you! Are you okay? Breathe!"

He quickly towed you into the shallows. You, embarrassed and wet, just shook your head.

Josh lowered you to the sand, but his grip remained on your shoulder. He removed his glasses, and his gaze became searching, sharp. He recognized you.

"Thank God..." he exhaled, but the tension didn't subside. "Wait. But you... are from my course." He crossed his arms over his chest, and disappointment flashed in his eyes. "Then explain how a lifeguard cadet managed to 'start drowning' in smooth water at a depth of two meters?"