Short Story: My First Kiss

I remember it as if it were yesterday. The jumble of butterflies bouncing around in my belly. The sweat building up in my palms. The constant glancing at the clock above the classroom door. And the awkward smiles we gave each other across the room, knowing what we were planning to do after school.

The walk to our friend Kelly’s house was only about a mile, but it felt like it was on the other side of the country. The leaves had already begun to turn and litter the ground, while the chilly wind brought a reminder that the frigid Chicago winter would soon be upon us.

When we were far enough away from school where I knew we would be out of sight of the other kids, I put my Chicago Bulls Starter jacket around Aurora’s shoulders and took her hand in mine. She looked at me and turned away, but not before I could see her smile. That same smile that had caught my eye the first day of 6th grade a couple of weeks before.

Technically, this wasn’t going to be my first kiss.

I had kissed other girls before, but those had been hastily done pecks at the playground after accepting a dare. This was to be my first real kiss. The first intentional one on the lips. The first one where – gasp – tongues were likely to be involved! I had dreamt about this moment for quite some time, and it had gotten a lot closer to happening when Aurora agreed to be my girlfriend the week prior.

When we got to Kelly’s house, the butterflies in my stomach were in overdrive. We made our way to the basement and turned on the television. We sat next to each other on one of the couches, while Kelly and her dog Samson, a white poodle-lab mix, sat on the couch opposite. I remember Kelly trying to make jokes about what we were watching, and I remember trying to laugh and be relaxed, but I remember neither her jokes nor what was on the television.

After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, Kelly announced that she was going to take Samson out for a walk and would be back soon. To her eternal credit, she tried to be as calm and as normal as possible, as if everything about the situation was normal.

When I heard the door to the upstairs click, I knew the time had come.

Somehow, I was even more nervous than before. I suppose the reality of standing on this adolescent precipice had finally set in. My mind scrambled to come up with an excuse to get up and leave, anything to end this incredibly awkward moment, but I held fast and forced my head to turn towards her.

Aurora was petite for our age, her body still holding on to being a gangly kid. But she was beautiful, with long, wavy black hair and big caramel eyes. I could see the woman inside her, eager for her body to catch up with her brain.

Ironically, this is the part that I don’t remember very well. I think I said something silly, which made her giggle. I remember bumping teeth, which made us giggle even more. I remember her still cold nose brushing against my cheek, and tasting the remnants of the bubble gum she’d just had in her mouth.

While the physical memories of that moment are wonderful, it’s something else that lingers more strongly with me to this day. It was connecting with another human being at an intimate level for the first time. There’s a vulnerability in kissing, an opening up to another person that is equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.

Especially that first kiss.