7:12 a.m. — My Bedroom on Willow Bend 🔍

At 7:12 a.m. in my upstairs bedroom on Willow Bend, I turned down the clock radio and pulled the half-finished mixtape from my portable cassette player. I had promised to make it for the new girl down the block before we met at the community pool, so I sat cross-legged on the carpet and waited with one finger poised over the red record button. The tape hissed between songs while sunlight striped my denim shorts, scattered magazines, and translucent plastic phone cord. When the kitchen wall phone rang downstairs, Mom shouted that it was for me, and I nearly tripped over my canvas sneakers racing to answer.

7:40 p.m. — Maplewood Community Pool Gate 🔍

At 7:40 p.m. beside the chain-link gate of Maplewood Community Pool, I held out the cassette just as the lifeguard began stacking the sun-faded deck chairs. My new friend tucked it into her canvas bag and grinned, saying she would listen tonight on her boom box. Chlorine clung to my damp T-shirt, quarters knocked together in my pocket, and our wet sandals squeaked along the concrete as we split a cold grape soda from the vending machine. Under the peach-colored evening sky, we agreed to meet again Friday and finish planning what to wear on the first day of school.