FIRST KISS
I am in 7th grade and my cousin invited me to her
house for the weekend. We are going to a
boy/girl party, my first boy-girl party.
I am nervous. I don’t know anyone and I don’t know what to expect. I am slightly afraid to go.
There are cigarettes offered but I don’t want to try
that. I am afraid to smoke. So I make up some lame excuse that works. I
am left alone.
Then a game of “spin the bottle” starts up. And I am afraid
of that too. But I have already said “no” to cigarettes. So I don’t feel
comfortable saying no to this activity as well.
I don’t want to seem like a complete dork. So I join the girls’ side of
the circle. And hold my breathe with each spin.
Each time the bottle stops, we screech in nervousness and
laughter. Heartless, judgment comments
about the boy or girl are made without edit. Our thoughtlessness camouflages
our own lack of confidence and our glaring insecurities.
The bottle finally points to me and I have to kiss the boy
with the long, blonde bangs. My heart races widely. There is a roar of laughter and I take the
position of a sprinter, ready to make a quick dash to the center of the circle.
Someone shouts, “you have to kiss’. And the boy starts to move towards me. I leap up and we meet in the middle. We kiss
and it is quick, hard and unpleasant.
Our teeth click together. But it
is now over. My first kiss. I have finally crossed that line. I can now
go back to my friends at school on Monday and show off a little.
“Oh yea, I’ve kissed boys before,” I can now brag with some
confidence. I am one step closer to the
world of adulthood.
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