Pool Girl by Cassie Mint


Every night, I float on the pool.

And every night, he watches me.

The caretaker is scarred. Surly. He walks with a limp and barely speaks. Most residents in our building are afraid of him, but not me.

I want him closer.

Feeling his eyes on me every night at the pool–it brings my body surging to life. He may be older; may be brutish. May pretend he’s not looking at me at all.

But I know better.

The caretaker wants me.

And I’m tired of looking. I want his touch.

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