The summer sun beats down on my family as we spend the day on the lake. My oldest brother, my mom, and I lather sunscreen as my dad and my second older brother refuse to layer. Day after day, my dad and brother don sun-kissed skin, brown as a brownie. They become darker and darker as the summer roles to an end.

My oldest brother and I find the strongest sunscreen but still end up burnt. We look like red raspberries as we gently rub aloe on our bodies. The smell of aloe fills the room as my brother and I lay, letting the aloe soak in. I waddle like a duck because the sunburn hurts. I become the slow steady turtle in the race to the end of summer. My second older brother doesn’t understand the pain, the pain, always burnt, never tan.