It was a summer day. The hot sidewalk was burning my feet as I walked along it, barefoot, but too young to care or worry about the sensitive bottoms of my feet.

Today was my eleventh birthday. I was a preteen! I looked down at my legs as they were walking, a smile forming along my lips. They were freshly shaven and I felt like I could conquer the world.

As I walked by Ms. Jennings house, her chihuahua yipped at me and I responded with an earth shattering hair flip, my ginger locks glowing in the sun. Ms. Jennings called out to me, “Happy Birthday, Jennie-Anne.” I smiled and waved, continuing to treat the hot sidewalk as my runway as I made my way to the city swimming pool.

The swimming pool. I was going there a new woman. I said goodbye to the frumpy one piece I had worn previously and said hello to the new, light pink tankini from Target. My midsection was showing, my armpits were bare and I was ready to take this pool by storm.

I looked back at my mother who was trailing behind me. I had forgotten her existence during my Summer Collection Fashion Show on the way to the pool. She looked back at me with a lopsided and said “you look glowing, Jennie-Anne.”

I felt my teeth show, my mom giving me a rare compliment.

With my ego now soaring, I scanned to look for my friend, Gemma. When we made eye contact, she ran over and squealed. She was still ten and she had to be jealous of my bare midsection as she was in the dreaded one piece still.

“Jennie-Anne, OMG, you’re friggin 11!,” Gemma squealed at me. I responded with another earth shattering hair flip. I linked arms with Gemma and we made our way to the shallow end. I was 11 now. I was too cool to actually swim. I swayed my nonexistent hips as we walked to the stone stairs that led into the water. I looked at the lifeguard on duty who was a hot, blonde buff “dude” and licked my braces and entered the water.

I believed every set of eyes was on me. I looked at my mom who putting on tanning lotion and talking with Gemma’s dad. She saw me and smiled. I waved and waded while Gemma talked about how she could not wait to be 11.

Then it happened. I felt like a corkscrew twisted in my abdomen. I shrugged and thought that perhaps my body was just adjusting to being more womanly.

With a sudden urge to pee, I exited the pool and was met with snickers and giggles. I turned around, confused, and made eye contact as Jimmy Polanski hummed the Jaws theme. My mom rushed to me with a towel. She escorted me to the bathroom and we went home to allow me to wallow in my hormonal pool of embarrassment and puberty.