Tuesday, I wear my swimsuit to work under my clothes, planning on walking down to the beach during my break. No, I don't plan on snaking my way through the crowded side, I prefer the hidden side. There is a small, forgotten portion of beach on the other side of the large dock. It is a very shady place where I used to find a majority of my shells. Since the sun doesn't hit it very well, people have rejected it like some brace-face, chubby, pale, pimpled, four-eyed, thirteen-year-old girl. Nobody wants to go to the middle school dance with her—I speak from experience. I wasn't the most beautiful thirteen-year-old...