Emma lay in her backyard, eyes tracing the slow drift of clouds. She was twelve, clinging to the tail end of childhood like the last leaf on a tree. Her world had always been simple — bike rides around the neighborhood, drawing chalk cities on the driveway, and summer evenings catching fireflies in jars. But lately, things felt… different. The air around her friends seemed to buzz with change, and she couldn’t tell if she was part of it or left behind.
Her best friend, Mia, had started wearing eyeliner and whispering about boys during sleepovers. They still laughed and shared inside jokes, but something intangible had shifted. Emma wondered if there was a secret rulebook everyone but her had read — a guide on how to grow up without getting lost.
That summer, the questions about herself began to follow her everywhere, like shadows growing long in the evening light.
One day, her parents surprised her with a family trip to the lake. Emma remembered the lake from summers past, a place of splash fights, sandy sandwiches, and cannonball dives off the old wooden pier. But this time, it felt strange.
She sat on the edge of the dock, feet dangling over the water. The lake reflected her face, but it didn’t feel quite like hers. Her hair was longer, her limbs felt awkward, and there was an odd tightness in her chest she couldn’t explain.
Her little brother, Noah, jumped in beside her, giggling as he tried to splash her. Emma smiled, but the water on her skin felt cold and unfamiliar.
“You used to love swimming,” her dad called from the shore.
“I know,” she mumbled, watching the ripples spread.
Why was it so hard now? Why did everything that used to be fun feel different? She envied Noah — how easily he could live in the moment, unbothered by the confusing swirl of feelings that had taken root inside her.
When seventh grade began, Emma realized the hallway that used to feel like a playground had transformed into a jungle. Her classmates were no longer kids but not yet adults, stumbling between two worlds. The rules were shifting faster than she could keep up — who you sat with at lunch, what music you listened to, the clothes you wore.
She found herself standing in front of her closet one morning, staring at the worn-out hoodie she had always loved. It felt too childish now, but the crop tops and sneakers Mia wore still felt too foreign. In the end, she threw on a plain T-shirt, feeling like she didn’t quite fit anywhere.
At lunch, Mia sat across from her, scrolling through her phone. She was different now — always glued to social media, her laughter quieter, more deliberate.
“You okay, Emma?” Mia asked, noticing her silence.
Emma shrugged. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
Mia gave her a knowing look. “About growing up?”
Emma’s heart skipped. “Kind of.”
“It’s weird, huh?” Mia smiled, but there was sadness behind it. “I guess we all feel like this.”
For the first time in weeks, Emma felt a little less alone. Maybe no one had the rulebook after all.
That night, Emma sat at her desk, sketching in her notebook. She used to draw happy little animals and flowers, but tonight, the lines on the page twisted into something else — a girl standing between two doorways, one leading back to childhood, the other to the unknown future.
She stared at the drawing, the pencil resting loosely in her hand. The girl looked scared but also curious. Emma realized she wasn’t stuck. She was just… in between. And maybe that was okay.
A few months later, on her thirteenth birthday, Emma woke up to a quiet shift inside her. It wasn’t a loud change — not the kind you could see in a mirror or capture in a picture. It was more like the moment before the dawn, when the night begins to let go but the day hasn’t fully arrived.
She stood in front of the mirror, brushing her hair. Her reflection looked back, familiar but different. There was something new in her eyes — a flicker of understanding, or maybe just acceptance.
Later that day, she rode her bike to Mia’s house. As the wind rushed past her, she let herself smile, feeling a little freer than before.
She wasn’t a child anymore, not exactly. But she wasn’t afraid of what came next.
Because between two worlds, there was space to grow. And Emma was ready to discover who she would become.