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🌊 : Chlorine, sunscreen, and the rhythmic sound of the diving board.
The concrete around the Miller Street pool was always ten degrees hotter than the air, a fact that Leo and Sam ignored as they sprawled on their towels. To anyone passing by, they were just two more poolside teens, part of the shifting summer scenery of chlorine-scented hair and melting ice pops. But between them lay a silent, competitive tension: they were waiting for Chloe. poolside teens
Sam was methodically peeling the label off a half-frozen sports drink, his eyes hidden behind dark aviators. Leo, on the other hand, was busy pretending to read a paperback that had been at the same page for forty minutes. Every time the heavy metal gate of the pool club creaked, their heads didn't move, but their focus shifted like magnets to a pole. They were fifteen, stuck in that strange middle ground where they were too old for the "cannonball" contests of the younger kids but not quite ready for the serious, low-voiced conversations of the adults in the shaded lounge area. 🌊 : Chlorine, sunscreen, and the rhythmic sound
🍦 : Blue raspberry slushies and half-frozen sports drinks from the snack shack. But between them lay a silent, competitive tension:
🎧 : A mix of distant pop music and the constant "no running" warnings from lifeguards.
Sam finally took off his glasses, squinting up at her. "Leo’s the one brooding. I’m just hydrating." "I’m reading," Leo corrected, finally closing the book.
