The end of February was coming. I liked Alex, liked him for a million little high school and college reasons. I liked our bus story, I liked the way he made me laugh, the way we could talk for hours and not get tired of each other, the way he sighed and rolled his eyes when he was joking with me, his long legs and curly hair, those blue eyes, and the immature innocence of a boy with a crush on a girl. The fact that I had never been kissed loomed over everyone’s heads during those winter months. Or so it seemed to me. My roommates and I had a wall completely covered with construction paper. It was a quote wall, but at the top we had written our names, and next to the names were little tally marks. I had zero tally marks. Lyndsay had two. Kalli and Amy had more than any of us combined. And that little blank space next to my name was a screaming reminder to everyone that I needed to be kissed, preferably before the school year was over.
One day, I came home from school disgustingly aware of the fact that I had procrastinated my homework for much too long. I sat on my bed and sketched for my interior design class for hours. I finally finished around 9:30, and was completely exhausted from the days work. And wouldn’t you know it, as a reward for my hard work, I received a text message from my favorite boy, asking me what I was doing tomorrow evening. Instantly, I knew it was going to happen. The kiss. Tomorrow evening, I would have a kiss from the boy I liked. I knew it, and I was terrified of it. But I told him I would love to go out with him. I was ready.
The amount of times I’ve written about this kiss has gotten a little out of hand, but who can blame me? A story like this needs to be told, over and over, because I don’t think the magic of a really good first kiss ever fades. The day of The Kiss, I was all over the place with nerves. To sooth myself, I talked Lyndsay into going shopping with me for a new shirt. (When big things happen in my life, I know that I deserve new clothes.) We walked all over the mall, but nothing compared to the little yellow t-shirt in a store I can’t remember the name of, because it isn’t there anymore. The thing is, I never wore yellow. Ever. Because my eyes have orange flecks in them, and yellow makes my eyes look, well, yellow. But gone were the days of being self conscious of this! I was getting kissed, dangit!
I went home, showered, did my hair and make-up, and put on my favorite jeans, new shirt, and white jacket. It was March 3rd, and the first warm day that Logan, Utah had seen in months and months. I remember sitting on the stool in our kitchen, nervously kicking the counter. My roommate made tater tots. I ate a few. Finally, Alex showed up. When he saw me, he got that look in his eyes. The look boys give girls when they almost can’t stand it. Can’t stand the way she looks, and the fact that she’s yours for even a few hours, and that good heck, you told yourself you’d kiss her tonight. So we left the apartment, climbed in his white jeep, and drove to dinner at Logan’s nicest Mexican place, Café Sabor. It was my first time, and I ordered the tortilla soup. He told me I looked nice, and we chatted easily as usual. After dinner, he took me to see the movie Confessions of a Shopaholic. This was a thoughtful choice, because my family had gone to see it without me, and he knew I was upset about that. We held hands, and at the end of it, he turned to me and said, “is it bad that I kind of liked that movie?” And I died a little, because why was he being so perfect?
It was the ride home, that was when the real nerves set in. And the way he casually drove past our apartment complex, and said, “Would you like to go on a walk?” Of course I said yes. I had come this far. Both of us knew we weren’t backing down from this. We drove to a little picturesque place called First Dam. It’s a pretty body of water, surrounded by mountains, with a lawn area and a dock going out into the lake. We walked onto the dock and stood together, looking at the moon. It got chilly, so he put his arms around me, and I laid my head on his chest. We talked. We talked for hours and hours. I know this, because his roommates came to spy on us, but left because it was taking too long. Occasionally I would lift my head up, and look at him, ready to give him an opportunity. But he was nervous, and so was I, so I would eventually tuck my head back into his chest and just breathe him in. Finally I looked up for real, determined to let it happen no matter how tired my neck was of looking up. He turned his baseball cap around backwards. I smiled. He said, “You look really good tonight.” I laughed and muttered, “oh thanks, so do you.” He smiled and looked at the sky. The stars, the moon, the blackness in between. Then looked down at me again, “I try really hard, actually.” That line from Juno, the one we laughed about in our many long talks. But I tried the cocky approach and said, “oh really? Because I don’t try at all!” To which he chuckled and said, “Oh really?” “Well, maybe a little…”I conceded. And then there we were, just smiling at each other. And suddenly he leaned down and kissed me. Softly, gently. I could barely function, a frozen statue, his lips on mine. I had always heard that the first time you kiss someone, it’s like an out of body experience, and the rumors were true. It felt like time stopped, and everything disappeared. And when he pulled away, the whole thing may have been three seconds long, but I laughed, and short “ha!” noise, and buried my face in his chest again.
And wouldn’t you know it, moments later we were talking like normal, and chasing the geese on the way back to his car.
When I arrived home, Lyndsay was waiting up for me, ready to hear the whole story. So we silently screamed with each other while my other roommates lay sleeping, and she ran over to put a check mark next to my name. It had really happened. A boy actually kissed me. My stomach was in knots, and for the rest of the night I kept waking up, agonizing over whether I was a good kisser or not. It’s a terrifying concept, you know.
A couple days later it was time for Spring Break. Alex and I said good-bye to each other, with my roommate Amy calling down the hallway, “I bet you’re too scared to kiss her again!” Which, he didn’t. We simply hugged and said our good-byes.
p.s. maybe after this i'll blog about wedding plans! ooh! how exciting!