Dad takes her to the YMCA pool for the first time. Her door says, “WOMEN AND FAMILIES.” Dad says she should take her key and find her locker and he will meet her in the pool. His door is different.

Inside the changing room, she squeezes past women with saggy breasts and teens in pink sports bras. Everyone is very naked, and she is not sure where to look as she changes into her blue one-piece with yellow flowers.

She pads through a misty room of shower heads to reach the pool door. The sign above reads, “MUST SHOWER BEFORE ENTERING SWIM AREA.” She stares at the words and wonders if she must get fully undressed again out here in the open. Maybe if she is quick, she can push through the door and jump in the pool before anyone notices her hair is dry.

She hears the spigot behind her hiss and pour. An older girl, still wearing her red polka dot two-piece, has turned on the shower and ducks her blond head underneath the water. Amelia approaches the shower furthest from the girl and turns the lever. She sticks her head under the ice-cold water and counts to three before popping back out.

The pool is filled with screaming kids ignoring the ubiquitous “NO RUNNING” signs. She scans the area for her father but doesn’t see him. A group of younger children splash around near the shallow end steps. Adjacent, a dozen pillowy women raise their arms up and down in unison to the monotone voice of the water aerobics instructor. Amelia considers stepping in where the other children are playing, but is unsure. She never took swim lessons and her dad isn’t there to make sure everything is ok. Suddenly, she hears “Amelia!” from the deep end. He is waving his arms and smiling. His black hair is wet. She walks over and climbs down the metal ladder into his arms.

***

Months later, they have just finished swimming a few width-wise laps. Dad tries to teach her a front stroke, but she slips back into a panicked doggy paddle once her arms get tired. She sits on the ledge during a break and looks down at her body. She is puzzled to see her tummy protrude slightly against the spandex of her bathing suit. She never noticed this extra pudge, and immediately wonders if others have seen it. If her father has seen it. She jumps back into the water as soon as she can, barely remembering to pinch her nostrils shut.

In the locker room, she changes quickly, a habit she has turned into a scientifically-precise procedure. Bathing suit stripped down and underwear on within five seconds. Another five for t-shirt on, shorts on. After, she folds her swimsuit in her towel and packs up her other belongings at her own pace.

The hurry is unwarranted today; the locker room is empty. She exercises her freedom and approaches the full-length mirror that is usually thronged by teens applying makeup. She squares her body against the frame and lifts her t-shirt to above her belly-button. She cups her hand around her tummy and squeezes. She marvels briefly at the new piece of flesh before a flush of embarrassment overtakes her. The door creaks open and she scuttles back to her locker.

•

A friend accompanies her today. Maddie wears lipstick and a real bra. Dad drives, but stays out of the pool and lifts weights with the other men. She is old enough— nearly 13— to be unsupervised in the water.

She dreads being in the locker room with her friend. A field of tiny pimples has emerged on her chest in the past weeks, and she is certain she is a medical freak or dying of a mysterious pimple illness.

They change quickly and quietly, and soon they are in the pool where everything is perfect. They jump in the deep end and do somersaults and reverse somersaults and propel themselves off the sides of the pool with ferocious kicks. Maddie has a pair of goggles that they use to explore the shallow end, diving in between the legs of the Water Aerobics Ladies. One lady complains to the lifeguard, so they return to the deep end, wildly giggling.

A group of boys their age is at the other end of the pool. Maddie notices them first. She shows Amelia how to dip her head back in the water to smooth her hair away from her face.

“HEY! What are you doing?” Maddie shouts to them.

Amelia’s heart pounds. She wants them to swim up more than she has wanted anything. At the same time, she fantasizes about sinking deep into the water to remain unseen.

Three boys come over, disrupting the Water Aerobics Ladies’ rhythm. Maddie lights up, laughing at nothing. The smallest boy continues to play in the shallow end with colorful snorkel equipment designed for smaller children. His head goes under the surface for a few moments before tiny bubbles form and burst above him.

The boys have little to say once they are there. They start splashing. Maddie and Amelia splash back. After the game tires, a red-haired freckled one says, “Let’s cannonball!”

They swim to the side and push themselves up on their skinny arms. Amelia swims to the ladder. The first boy runs full-speed toward the edge and leaps without hesitation into the chlorinated depths. He pulls his legs up to his chest right before hitting the water and creates a giant crater in the water where his compact body breaks through. Before they have time to react, the second boy pushes the third into the pool. The third boy squeals before splashing into the water. The second boy jumps in after.

Amelia is scared. Maddie laughs and jumps. Her crater is smaller, but still significant.

“Come on!” they yell to Amelia.

She plods to the edge, takes a deep breath, and then leaps off the edge. She grips her legs close to her body. The water slaps her skin as she plunges through the surface. She forgets to hold her nose, and a rush of pain shoots through her nostril and into the front of her brain. Her eyes burn as her head emerges, and tears mingle with the dripping water. She kicks wildly until she is at the ledge.

She braces herself for teasing, but finds herself alone catching her breath. A shriek echoes across the pool. It’s Maddie. Amelia clears the water from her eyes, and sees the boys circling her friend. One darts towards Maddie and pulls her bikini top strap until it loudly snaps. She screams again and the boy snorts laughing. When she turns toward the culprit, another swims around her back and repeats the offense.

Amelia shouts, “Hey, STOP,” so loudly the entire pool freezes. The Water Aerobics Ladies all turn their swim-capped heads. The only sound is the refrain of “Ice, Ice Baby” from the aerobics instructor’s tinny speakerbox.

Later in the locker room after they have changed (9 seconds), Maddie whines, “What did you have to do that for?”

•

Summer begins. Dad takes her to the pool on Thursday nights after work. She invites Maddie occasionally, but is secretly relieved when her friend is too busy. Dad joins her in the pool sometimes, but sometimes he goes to the weight room and lets her splash and play by herself. He says he doesn’t want to embarrass her in front of her schoolmates.

She likes to swim laps. Her mind completely focuses on pushing her body back and forth through the cool water. Her favorite part is when she reaches the end of the pool, turns around, and kicks off the edge so she shoots in the other direction like a bullet from a gun.

After completing her third lap, she propels herself off the wall again, slicing effortlessly through the dense water. As her head emerges, she hears a gruff voice through the gurgling water lapping around her ears. “Hey, stop that!” She stands in the waist-deep water. A fat old man towers over her. He has a wet white beard and dark spindly chest hairs matted against his breasts. Water drips off the tip of his nose.

“The lanes are full. You have to move,” he barks.

She knows this isn’t true, but isn’t sure if she’s allowed to say anything. She doesn’t want to get in trouble.

He looks at her trembling body and the anger in his eyes dissipates into something she can’t quite name. It makes her feel strange, like he’s evaluating her. His gaze lingers on her chest where her swimsuit has begun to pull and stretch.

He flashes a toothy grin. “Well, that’s ok.” The water keeps dripping. She can’t tell now if it’s water dripping from his nostrils or snot. “You go right ahead. You take the right side, and I’ll take the left.”

Amelia obeys and takes a few steps into the lane. The thick water slows her down. As she is about to kick off the bottom of the pool into a front stroke, she feels something touch her rear. She turns around and sees his lips pull even wider. His teeth are yellow and rotted. “There you go, sweetheart.” She doesn’t say anything but turns around and swims toward the other end of the pool. On the right side, like she was told. She finishes one length, then swims to the ladder in the deep end and climbs out.

In the shower, she frenetically scrubs her skin. She wants to be back in her real clothes as soon as possible. She changes (8 seconds) and exits the quiet of the locker room into a cacophony of laughing children and yelling Moms. A basketball flies across the hall towards an unsuspecting coach, who dodges at the last second.

Her eyes scan the hall before she rushes to an armchair in the main lobby. She pretends to read a few children’s magazines while she waits for her dad.

•

The waiting area shares a large glass wall with the pool. The glass wall was constructed so parents could watch their kids swim from the comfort of a few faux-leather armchairs. Guests can see the entire pool— the deep end, the diving board, the steps to the shallow end, the swim lanes— from that waiting area.

Amelia has a new routine. Before she heads to the locker room, she walks to the waiting area and peers through the window-wall. Sometimes, then and there, she decides she’d rather exercise on an elliptical or watch the volleyball league that plays Thursday nights in the upstairs gymnasium.

This time, however, she will swim. She steps into her fraying swimsuit. The blue has faded several shades from the original royal. She can’t find the words to tell Dad she needs a new one. Yesterday, however, she decided that she will save up her birthday money to replace it. Her birthday is in a few weeks and she can buy the suit the next time Dad drops her off at the mall with Maddie. Maddie has a two-piece. Amelia hopes she won’t pressure her into buying a bikini. She remembers the pudge at her stomach and frowns. Maybe one of her aunts will go instead.

She squirms into the suit and tries to move the fabric around so the little yellow flowers don’t look so stretched. She rinses off and enters the pool. There are no lessons and no water aerobics today. An old woman slowly swims laps in the far lane. Two high school girls are hanging near the other edge of the pool, flirting with the skinny blond lifeguard. He chuckles at whatever they are saying. Their laughs echo across the empty space.

Amelia descends the stairs into the shallow end. She takes long, wide strokes across the pool, back and forth, relishing the freedom of an entire pool to herself. She holds her nose and flips into a somersault. She practices treading water and counts to 45-seconds as she wildly kicks her feet to keep her head and shoulders above the surface. Afterwards, she floats for a few minutes to regain her strength.

She swims back to the far end and swings her arms up onto the concrete ledge to support her body in the deep water. She can see through the window-wall into the empty waiting room. An employee wearing headphones vacuums on the other side, oblivious to the pool or anything else around him. She feels like she is on the inside of a snow globe.

She can overhear the giggles of the three teenagers, but not their words. She peaks back at them. The two girls are sitting on the edge, kicking their feet in the water. Both are wearing two-piece bathing suits and they look up to the lifeguard’s chair with brilliant smiles. One of the girls has wavy dark hair that trails down her back. Amelia wonders if he can see down their tops.

Through the window, she sees Dad walk by wearing the sweatshirt with holes in it. He doesn’t look her way. She wants to shout hi, but knows he can’t hear through the glass. Suddenly, her eyes sting and she wishes he would come into the pool so they could play catch with one of the beach balls.

Today, he wants to lift weights. He’s trying to make his arms look like those guys on the wrestling shows.

He went on a date a few days ago. He wore a button-up shirt and cologne and didn’t arrive home until late, even though it was raining hard and she worried he might have gotten into a car accident. She heard the front door creak open around midnight and Dad’s heavy footsteps in the kitchen. She went to sleep angry, but by morning she felt fine. He didn’t mention it and they ate their toast and jelly in silence. She prayed at night that he wouldn’t bring the new woman to the house.

The teenage girls shout goodbye and push themselves up to their feet. The lifeguard watches them slink off to the locker room. Amelia wonders if he has ever kissed a girl. Or if he kisses girls all the time. She imagines the three of them— the two teenage girls and the lifeguard boy— meet up after the pool closes and they all go to a movie. Maybe he kisses them in the theater parking lot. Or maybe he just kisses the one with the beautiful hair. Amelia pushes her wet hair behind her ear. She can already feel it start to frizz and she pats it down with the palm of her hand.

Eighth grade starts in two weeks. Over the summer, Maddie got a boyfriend. His name is Hunter and she met him at camp. They’re in love, she says, and real love is different than a crush. Amelia wants a boyfriend too, but she doesn’t know anyone who would like her. She wonders if the lifeguard thinks she is pretty. She is younger than him, but only by a few years.

A fantasy takes shape in her mind. She imagines what it would be like if suddenly her leg cramped and she dropped further and further beneath the water as she struggled with the pain. She would realize suddenly that she was too far down. An insurmountable pressure would bear down on her from overhead and crush her chest until her heart was on the brink of bursting. Just as her head grew fuzzy, an arm would reach around her back and pull her near-lifeless body to the surface. She would gasp for air. He’d lift her out of the water and lay her down on the rough surface beside the pool.

He would kneel beside her and gently lift her head to help her breath. “Are you ok?” he would whisper, and she would nod. He would smile, relieved, and lean down to kiss her.

She blinks out of her daydream. She wants him to see her. She wants him to look at her like he looked at the other girls, especially the one with the dark hair. She swims to the other end of the pool. When she reaches the shallow end, she walks up the slick stairs. She’ll dive this time. She struts on the side of the pool where the lifeguard sits. She tries to wiggle her hips the way the other girls do. Her breath catches as she passes underneath his chair, but she can’t bring herself to see if he’s noticing.

As she reaches the other end of the pool, she hears a voice behind her. “Uh, miss?” She turns around and he’s there. He has more pimples close up, but her heart pounds anyway. She smiles, remembering to keep her mouth closed. She’s been practicing for school pictures and knows it looks better with her lips together.

He opens his mouth to speak, then hesitates. He looks at his feet.

“Yeah?” Her voice shakes.

He leans his face close to her ear and lowers his voice to a whisper. “I, uh, I think you may need to go to the bathroom.”

Her eyebrows knit together. “Huh?”

“I think…uh…maybe you got your…period.”

He stands up straight again. He holds one of his arms with the other and shifts his weight to the other foot. She doesn’t understand right away, but then notices a warm feeling between her legs. She looks down and then back up at the boy, whose pimpled skin is flushing red.

She rushes to the locker room, past the “NO RUNNING” signs, and into one of the bathroom stalls. She yanks down her swimsuit and looks at the crotch. She can’t see anything against the wet fabric, so she touches the spot. Her fingers are stained dark red. She starts to cry before wadding up some toilet paper to put between her legs.

•

School starts. She has two crushes, but isn’t sure whom she likes more. Her dad asks her if she’d like to go to the Y. She says no. She doesn’t like swimming that much.

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