The Not So Secret Life of the American Teenager

Maybe I was the one who left the trace
Was there a message written on my face
One little emotion so easily read
That you would know my love before a word was said...

Every Saturday morning for the past two months, I've been going to my local recreation center to get some exercise. I usually get there around 11:30 after the children's swimming lessons are completed. The pool is usually pretty deserted.  Me, a few granny types and occasionally, this guy who likes to yell, "Don't touch me" and "leave me alone" in random intervals. (Tourette's Syndrome, I believe.)

The lifeguards are young.  Teenagers.  Probably late high school or early college.  Boisterous, bubbly, energetic.  Attractive.  When did kids get so attractive?  What happened to awkwardness, acne and arms and legs that are out of proportion with the rest of the body?

Observing them while I do my pool exercises has become entertainment.  There are usually 3-4 of them there when I'm there, coming and going at different times.  

Over the course of the past few weeks, I've been watching a mini-romance try to develop.  

There's this female lifeguard who is a little on the chubby side.  She is friendly to the patrons but usually is reserved, sitting in her chair and observing everything going on around her.

Well, there's this male life guard who shows up, too. It's not his scheduled Saturday (as I've heard him say over and over) but he's there to "work on [his] skills."   He is attractive.  If I were 17, I'd probably be crushing myself.  However, I'm probably old enough to be his mother so I just appreciate the aesthetics of a young swimmer's body.

As soon as he shows up, the female lifeguard's entire posture changes.  She's more alert.  More talkative.  She offers feedback and encouragement to the male lifeguard.  She'll randomly blurt out things like "I finally went over to ODU to check out the dorms", "I went to a party at So&So's" or "I'm thinking of going to the oceanfront after work to do some surfing."  The male lifeguard will toss out his own, "Yeah, I'm a little slow today.  Went out with some friends last night, too."  or "If you need help, let me know.  You know I'm a master surfer."  He will then insert this self-mocking laugh.  Self-mockery. Aaah....  perfect.  That gets the female lifeguard to reassure him that he's probably very good. He protests lightly.  She giggles.  He'll shake water off of his shoulders, shrug a little and then continue his laps.  He has an excellent butterfly stroke.

Sometimes, they stand very close together, with the whole upper-body leaning thing that I picked up from some TV show or book.  Allegedly, if two people are into each other, when they talk, their upper bodies tend to pull towards each other without the two people even being aware of it.  Sometimes, they stand a little apart, with her fidgeting or touching something on her face or hair.  He will run his hands over his own arms and abdomen while talking to her.  Sometimes, they mirror each other.  She'll touch her face.  He'll touch his face.  You can probably guess what I read about the mirrored touching.  If there was some ice around, they'd probably be crunching on it. (You have heard the rumor that chewing ice is a sign of sexual frustration, right?)  :)

Yesterday, there were two more lifeguards there in addition to the two above -- another male and another female.  The entire dynamic was off.  The poor little lifeguard kept vying for the attention of the "just here to work on skills" lifeguard.  I could see her withdraw into herself.  She climbed into her chair and just stopped trying.  He didn't seem to notice.  He had another audience for his antics.  So, are they for her?  Or is he just someone who likes attention?

I am so interested in this because I have been that little lifeguard so many times in my life. I'm rooting for her, hoping that she will be more successful than I was when I was her age.

I wanted to pull her aside and offer up the wisdom that comes from 20+ years of trying to break out of the "notice me, dammit!" role.  However, I learned it the hard way and I know she has to learn it the hard way, too, in order to not self-destruct every time she misreads someone's signals (or in my case, she finds out that the target of her interest is gay, might be gay or is denying his gay tendencies).

For now, I wish her luck.  I look forward to my Saturday visits just so that I can go back in time and remember what it was like to be that young, that daring and that hopeful.