My First Kiss: Part 1

The husband and I had an anniversary this week, and there is a story to tell. Writing it has kept me up at night, and it's much longer than it should be, but it's done. Actually, in many ways it is just beginning. There are three parts because I think the length deserves three posts. Rewind back nine years before you begin to read. Hope you enjoy them.

Part 1, the rejection:

It’s Friday, finally. I shut my car door a little too quickly—on accident, I think. I just can’t take this stupid situation any longer. I am the one who’s embarrassed. I am the one who has to explain myself to the entire student body. Wasn’t he the one who got rejected? Shouldn’t that put him in the hot seat? I thought I would be nice—not tell anyone about what happened, not even my sister Bambie. I’m always too nice. Then ‘nice’ always slaps me in the face.

I still can’t believe that I showed up to school on Monday morning to see Kram laughing his head off. “Is it true?” He asks me with a grin the size of Rainbow Bridge. “Did you really dodge Wonderboy’s kiss?” He snorts. “As he went in for the kill did you really pull his head to the side and whisper, ‘Never try that again Wonderboy!” Kram grabs his belly, swings his head back and laughs.

My face must have matched the crimson lockers. I didn’t understand. Why would he tell everyone? Why was it so hard to believe? And why was it so funny? Wonderboy was even laughing with the ACB boys just a few yards away. That boy has the confidence of a fox. Too bad he’s not as smooth as one.

He should have been humiliated—to just assume that it would be that easy to steel away my first kiss. His attempt was lazy. The execution was confusing. And before I realized what was happening, I was telling the boy that I adored, admired and maybe even (though I’ll never admit it out loud) loved that I never wanted him to try to kiss me. Good one MJ. You really are hilarious.

…But he must still like me. I can’t explain why, but he must. I have two dozen little roses in my room to prove it. And he did ask me if I would ever let him kiss me. “Maybe beneath a canopy of fireworks or in the middle of a warm summer rain, or really anywhere but in your driveway,” I told him. He must be willing to try again. Or maybe he’s just considering whether or not I’m worth the wait.

After the most ridiculous week of my life, I’m glad that I told the cheerleaders that I would help them decorate for the Sweetheart’s dance tonight. I don’t think I can take another mocking, “Never try that again!” joke from the ACB peanut gallery. And I’d rather avoid Wonderboy all together on the anniversary of the night I told him to never kiss me again. Yet, there’s no one I want to be with more. There’s nothing I want to do more than…kiss him.