Free The Lifeguard by Deborah Blumenthal

comfort. I glance at the empty nail on the wall, the white space.
    Sorry , I feel like scrawling. Instead, I slip out of the gallery as quickly as I came in, sneaking glances behind me and walking down the street slowly and casually. Everything is the way it should be.
    “Sirena,” someone calls out. I stop short and turn, my heart thumping erratically. Who is that girl? I don’t recognize her. She’s waving, but then I realize it’s to someone farther down the street, not me. She calls out again, only this time I realize that the name she’s calling is “Rita.”
    I head to the spot where I left my bike and put on the helmet. I take deep breaths and look around casually. Is anyone giving me strange looks?
    Calm down, Sirena, You’re fine.
    But my heart doesn’t buy it. It’s still slamming. I hop on my bike and head to Aunt Ellie’s. As I’m pedaling home, I slow down momentarily as a loud siren closes in on me. Someone saw you, someone saw you, a voice in my head shrieks, keeping pace with my staccato heartbeat. I start pedaling faster and harder, refusing to turn around. The siren gets louder and louder. In my side view mirror, I see a row of flashing red lights on top of the police car behind me and I hold my breath.

fifteen
H ow could you do that, Sirena? Are you crazy?
    Whatever you do, don’t tell your aunt, don’t tell anyone, or you’ll get in huge trouble. Anyway though, I love the drawing you did of the painting. Do you know how much talent you have? I am so envious. I can barely write my name, I swear. I don’t know how you do it. Pilot is sooo hot. I showed everybody in the bunk. They think he looks like a movie star or a Calvin Klein model. Those sleepy, sexy eyes! Does he know you drew his picture? Does he have any idea?
    Listen, just a thought. Sneak back into the gallery again at lunchtime and return the picture. Take a picture of it first and then just give it back. Seriously, think about it. I don’t want my BFF to go to jail!! Do you know how totally horrible those prisons are for kids? There’s one in Louisiana that makes kids eat rancid food and doesn’t have air-conditioning and it’s over a hundred twenty degrees in summer! Kids have died there! Anyway, if you get busted, that will totally kill college, you know—you have to put that on the application!
    Nothing riveting on this end. Great bunk, except for one total geek who I’m sure will go to Harvard because she’s got a 2,000 IQ. And get this, she reads Silas Marner for fun and brought a set of the classics with her. I swear! We had our second co-ed baseball game and I got two runs, which I think impressed the hell out of a kind of snooty Brit named Geoff (Jeff in plain English) Whelan who’s kind of cute except for bad teeth. I will keep you posted. Report to me immediately on any more sightings or run-ins with BG (blond god).
    (P.S. I swear I’ve gained fifteen pounds. I look like a total blimp. I hate the carbs here!)
    Love you and miss you more than you can imagine!
    Marissa
    I was proud of the picture and I hesitated before I sent it. But I needed to show it to Marissa, if only to confirm that it wasn’t only me who saw something so ethereally beautiful and rarified in his face.
    Then there was the painting.
    I had never done anything like that before. If my parents found out they’d blame themselves, the divorce, the stress on me of being sent away from home. But it was none of that. It was simply a case of want, need, and no choice. I had to have it. It was as close as I’d ever get to him.
    Would I eventually be found out? Would the cops come knocking on my door and cart me off in handcuffs? So far, I’d been lucky. None of the police cars were chasing me. Every time I hear a siren, though, my heart jumps. I wait at the window until it passes before leaving the house, even though that’s totally stupid. I mean, if they knew it was me, wouldn’t they just come and get me? Why would they wait, to see if I took