The smell of summer is the smell of burning leaves on hot asphalt. Every year, my entire family would gather in my grandmother’s tiny backyard and hang out by the pool. All 14 of us would be together everyday, for the entire summer.

The babies, as all of my older relatives called the youngest half of the nieces and nephews, started with me and went all the way down to my youngest brother, who is only 10. There are 2 other of my siblings, and 3 of my cousins between us, and still, after almost 17 years, I am still referred to as a baby.    
   

Being the oldest, I was often able to boss the other babies around: telling them where we ate, and when, when we went in the pool and whether we’d play torpedo soccer or dive for pennies. I was exceptionally good at telling them which leaves would be the best for burning.
   

We’d all scamper through the front yard, looking only for the dead, crunchy brown leaves that were few and far between in the hot summer months. After finding about 3 or 4 leaves a piece, we’d then gather on the blacktop driveway, the concrete absorbing any heat from the sun and scorching the bottoms of our bare feet. We threw the leaves down into a small piles and I would scrutinize each and every one to determine if it would make the cut. I distinctly remember my cousin Nora, who is 2 years younger than me, crying when I told her her leaf wasn't dead enough to catch on fire.
   

Nora and I have always been best friends, inseparable since birth. We would play mermaids in the pool together, and always asked my brother Raymond and our cousin Rory to join. Of course, they never wanted to play such a girly game. They’d only ever want to use the small toy water guns, filling them up with freezing cold hose water and grass, only to get scolded for spraying Addie or Dermott who were barely even old enough to sit up on their own at the time.
   

Once I had made sure every single leaf was perfect for burning, someone would rush into the small grey shed in the back yard to retrieve the magnifying glass. We’d build small teepees of the dry sticks and leaves to make small fires. My oldest cousins Ciara and Ryan— who are both 25 now—  would start off by holding the glass in such a position that a small hole would open up within the leaf and a thin trickle of smoke rose into the air. The unforgettable smell of charred leaves is permanently burnt into my mind and somehow always takes me back to the sweaty summers we spent by the pool.
   

If we weren't sitting in the driveway watching someone set leaves on fire, we were in the thick grass with a mostly deflated rubber ball, playing soccer. My sister Molly would spread 4 wet towels equally 10 steps apart on opposite sides of the lawn, 2 where the edge of the driveway and grass met, and the others closest to the neighbor’s hill. Being part of the youngest half of the cousins was always hard around the time it came to pick teams. I was always the last one to picked due to my small stature and inability to do anything remotely athletic. Tighe was always the nicest about it, he would pick me first if he was a captain, and always passed me the ball, even though he knew I would never be able to score. It’s no wonder why Tighe and I are closer than me and most of my other cousins. 
   

I remember one time, when I was about 10, my cousin Keegan found a giant june bug in the filter of the pool. He scooped it out using the pool skimmer, and put it on my head when my back was turned. The more I struggled to remove the bug from the tangles of my chlorine drenched-hair, the more Keegan made fun of me. Everyone has always favored Keegan to anyone else, except for me. I don’t know why, but we have never gotten along well. It’s probably because of the 6 year age gap or some other stupid reason neither of us are aware of. 
   

The smell of leaves burning always reminds me of the lazy summer days spent in the front yard of my grandmother’s house. I couldn't imagine not being close to my cousins, and some how, I know growing up with them by my side made me grow into a better person. Whether it was Matthew and Nolan showing me how to play goofy, or Cailin teaching me a new synchronized swimming routine, I was constantly learning different things from every one of my cousins. The summer days spent poolside with my cousins are my fondest childhood memories that will never be forgotten.