Summer lasts really long! It lasts until I’m sick of its hit songs. I believe that I’m promised the summerness every year for my whole life because every year there is a summer. I know that it’s my right!

It’s too hot to care about much. People wear as little as possible. Oh, the time before structured bras and structured days! I wear whatever I want– there are no physical imperfections I want to hide. I have no responsibilities. Somebody will grill something for dinner. Money just appears when I want to go to the snack bar. I just be. I just go at any pace.

I fully immerse myself in the experience of hot weather because I’m a part of nature and not afraid of it. I have no aversion to high temperatures, because I’m too young to realize how much I’ve mistreated Mother Nature, so there is no guilt or feeling that she is getting back at me when the thermometer flirts with 100 degrees. I enjoy the heat until I’m ready to get soaked or go in an air-conditioned place or enjoy the afternoon thunderstorm’s resetting of the thermostat. If my lazy summer day includes a nap, I don’t even hear the phone because that’s not my responsibility.

I’m the last one in the pool when I hear equipment being set up and amp settings being adjusted. The promise of the near-future summers lets me imagine myself old enough to stay while younger kids with bright plastic under their arms whine their way to the station wagons. Before heading for my family’s station wagon, I stop and see how the pool becomes still and reflective. Small groups of teens cluster in pockets, cloaked in the thick summer night. I feel a strange tension, wondering what these older kids might be doing—what I will someday be doing.

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