S3E3: The Case of the Missing Lifeguard

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The bell at the front of the counter dings over and over, the culprit being the infamous Erica Sinclair, who has zero patience and zero tolerance for anyone who's busy with anything that isn't helping her immediately.

Neither Robin nor I are aware of her and her friends' presence, as the two of us are engrossed in the Russian to English book, while listening to the recording for the thousandth time through headphones.

Finally, the dinging breaks through the headphones. "I'll take this one." Robin tells me, then turns around with an annoyed sigh and puts her headphones around her neck.

Erica stares at her with a miffed look mirroring Robin's. She still dings the bell over and over in a rhythm, then smiles sweetly. "I'd like to try the peanut butter chocolate swirl, please."

"No." Robin says, her tone forced to remain nice. "No more samples today."

"Why not?" Erica demands.

"Because you're abusing our company policy."

"Where's the sailor man?" She looks around for Steve.

"Sorry, he can't help you. He's busy."

"Busy with what?"

"Spycraft."

I set the translation book down, along with my own headphones. "Speaking of spycraft, I'm gonna go see if the guys have made any progress. Think you can man the ship?"

Robin crosses her arms and side eyes Erica. "I think I'll be okay here."

The boys aren't hard to find, despite the two of them trying to be as inconspicuous and stealthy as possible. Steve's blue and white Scoops Ahoy uniform can be seen a mile away, and Dustin's bright yellow and green hat isn't exactly incognito, either. Both of them crouch behind a potted plant, Steve looking through some binoculars.

"You see anything?" I ask, crouching down and sticking my head between the pair. Both let out yelps of surprise and stumble away from me.

"Jesus." Steve clutches his heart. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack!?"

"How'd you find us?" Dustin asks.

"Believe me. It wasn't difficult." I grab Steve's binoculars and pull them towards my face, but the strap remains around his neck.

I try to focus on scanning the upper deck for anything suspicious, but it's hard when Steve Harrington's warm cheek is pressed directly to mine. Suddenly, my body feels like it's been supercharged. Every little movement Steve makes, I become hyper aware of it all; and every little movement of mine I'm just as aware of.

"Wow, uh... this is close," he says, his voice low and quiet. His breath tickles my ear. I feel him moving around until he escapes the restraint of the strap, leaving a cold gap of air between us now.

"I take it you haven't found anything," I say, trying to shake off my weird feelings.

"No," Dustin answers.

"What should I look for anyway?"

"Evil Russians."

"And what would an evil Russian look like exactly?" I ask, handing the binoculars back to Steve.

"Tall, blond, not smiling. Also, look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags, that sort of thing."

"Right, okay, duffel bags," Steve says, peering through the binoculars now. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me."

"What?" Dustin and I ask in unison, hoping he's found something.

"Anna Jacobi's talking with that meathead Mark Lewinsky."

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