Sitting at the worn wooden table, with the lake behind me, I felt a fire running through me. My skirt was eager to be lifted up and the damp fabric of my sports bra outlined every curve of my body under the sun. Stretching my legs, I let my sneakers rest on the table, while my hips moved slightly, as if looking for a comfortable position. My fingers played over my clothes, sliding absentmindedly, knowing that each movement had the power of a magnet for whoever might look. The possibility of being seen, of attracting random glances, lit a spark inside me that not even the cool breeze could extinguish.