i’m nine or ten in delaware visiting my dad’s family, at the beach. that was that aspiring age, trying to act at least like a teenager, remember? country bumpkin rose notices all of the girls in two pieces, triangle tops at that, and begs her aunt to take her to the surf shop to get a new bathing suit. she always took me shopping. of course she says yes, and we drive over there. i’m imagining some tie dye number, halter top, with strings on the bottoms. i find something similar, it was multi-colored rattle snake pattern, somewhat shiny. i run to the dressing room after checking with my aunt that it was a good choice. she says try it on. i’m kind of hesitant to strip behind this towel-curtain thing, but off come my soccer shorts and fundraiser t-shirt, on goes this stringy thing that really accentuated my prepubescent curves. it sagged, somehow. i remember turning and checking myself out from over my shoulder and seeing a nearly bare back. it was uncomfortable, vulnerable. i’m nine or ten. i go back to the beach with my one piece swim team suit.