Sheila Mant had been staying at the house on the river over the summer before she would be graduating high school. The Mants, with their games of softball, parties and constant coming and goings.

Sheila- The middle daughter at 17. She was out of reach to most of the jaded 20-year olds who would stop and gawk at her every time she laid on her diving board, and in general.

She had taken notice of a girl. Maybe younger than her. Everytime she was outside, that same girl was always there. She knew the girl was staring, but Sheila Mant was not one to care about the stares she had been receiving ever since she had hit puberty.

Once again, Sheila was out on the river directly infront of the rented cottage, sunbathing. Sitting upright with her arms wrapped around her tanned legs. Observing. Approachable to the male population nearby.

That little girl was there. Again. But Sheila couldn’t bring herself to care.

Idly trailing her hand in the water, she moved the board forwards towards the grass once more, getting off. She stood on the grass, observing the houses near her own. Perhaps that girl was a neighbor, a local maybe who was judging.

Or maybe she wasn’t. Sheila didn’t care. She never card much about anything. Fixing the straps of her white bikini, she simply grabbed the board.