Cricket just keeps providing us with interesting prompts. If you haven’t yet, you should give Slice Of Life a try. I am really enjoying it.
One of the prompts this week is – first kiss.
Oh, boy, this took me back……
I had two first kisses but the first one didn’t really count. It was with Robbie McDonald when we were both six and we kissed because Robbie thought it was the only way to make a wish come true. And Robbie had lots of wishes he wanted to come true, including a wish for a puppy called Pip that would love him best of all and one of those necklaces with the peace sign that all the hippies wore.
Our kiss was more of a peck and a giggle because despite his need for lots of wishes to come true, when it came down to it, Robbie was very embarrassed by the whole thing; and I had heard that kissing someone in a romantic way without being married to them was a surefire way to get to Hell fast. So the kiss was over before it had begun.
Turns out kisses didn’t bring wishes after all. Turns out Robbie had misinterpreted something his sixteen year old brother had said : ‘A kiss is like a wish come true.’ Turns out I wasn’t quite right, either, for neither Robbie nor I went straight to hell.
The next ten years was a bit of a drought when it came to kisses from the opposite sex. Lots of cute little ‘I Love You’ notes were exchanged, many he likes you or she likes you conversations were had, but it wasn’t until I was sixteen that I ever realised what a real kiss was like.
His name was Peter Brooks. He took me to the end of year dance, but he wasn’t the one that kissed me. Peter Brooks was shy with girls – everybody knew it. But he was a genuine, straight-up nice guy, so many of the girls considered him a catch.
His best friend was the school bad boy – Johnny James. Johnny was very much a love ‘em and leave ‘em type – sullen, uncommunicative, downright rude – so obviously, the object of every girl’s affection.
Johnny James and I hated one another. He had stolen my chemistry assignment from my desk, rewritten it and handed it in as his own work. He had gotten an A while I , in my haste to redo it and get it in on time, had done most of the equations wrong and ended up with a C minus.
‘I’m going to get you, Johnny James,’ I said to him one afternoon outside our lockers. ‘I’m going to sort you out for good.’
I almost didn’t go to the dance with Peter because of his association with Johnny James but in a perverse kind of way I hoped it would piss Johnny off. So I agreed.
Midway through the dance Peter asked me if I’d like to go out and get some fresh air. I knew what he meant to do and I was ambivalent but I thought it was probably about time the drought was broken.
Johnny James was in the garden drinking vodka straight from the bottle (even though it was an alcohol free dance). For some reason the sight of him alone, drinking in the cold night air, tied my stomach up in knots.
‘Here come the lovebirds,’ he sneered. ‘The perfect little couple.’
Peter ignored him, it was his way of dealing with Johnny’s moods. When I look back Peter ignored Johnny a lot.
Peter took my hand and led me further into the garden. He tried to kiss me. It was a kiss shaped by its extreme awkwardness. Noses, chins, elbows, all ended up in the wrong place. I remember there was a bit of drool but not much else.
‘You’re never going to get anywhere kissing her like that.’ Johnny James emerged from the shadows like a creature of the night and kissed me firmly and directly on the lips. It was a kiss memorable for its simplicity, it didn’t mess around, did what it was supposed to do. Its effects were long-lasting. I was transformed, awestruck.
Peter punched Johnny in the nose. There was blood. I cried. Johnny swore. I mopped up the blood with the tissues stuffed into my bra. Johnny saw me pulling them out and didn’t laugh, just gave me that look of his that said :’Why are you bothering with that?’ And that was that -the moment, the pivotal moment when I fell in love with a bad boy because he saw me pull tissues out of my bra and didn’t laugh.
Johnny and I went out for a year. He thought I was Emily Bronte. I thought he was James Dean. In our Senior year he moved to Melbourne because his Dad died and he and his Mum went to live with his grandmother. I never saw him again, my beautiful, surly bad boy. I might not recognize him if I saw him today in the street, but I will never forget the night he gave me my first proper kiss.
oooohhhhhh… So darn perfect…
What a fabulous post, Selma.
Okay, what is it with you chicks and the bad boys? Is it that they project an air of confidence, and you find that irresistable? It’s always amazed me how the bigger the asshole a guy is, the less likely he’s sleeping alone.
What an honest and funny slice of life! I loved the misunderstanding about wishes coming true. And I so understand the attraction to the “bad boy.” I too fell for a bad boy in high school but was not fortunate to have him move away. I really enjoy your stories Selma – your writing always draws me and makes me want more.
Aaahhhhh!!! That is all I can manage, my brain is too jet lagged but I had to come see your blog and see what was up!
“I mopped up the blood with the tissues stuffed into my bra.”
Now that is am imagine I will never forget!
Most Excellent story!!!
girl,, that whole bad boy thing,, i don’t see how you ever went for another type of man after you had something like that on your line… or maybe it was just girls like me that never got over them……
loved this kiss and tell…..
Sounds like an old John Travolta/Olivia Newton-John movie.
My first kiss was when I was 10. But it wasn’t that kind of kiss. Or maybe it was. I’ll blog about it soon.
I am full of admiration for someone who remembers her first kiss fondly. I made such a pig’s hindquarters of mine, I’d rather forget it.
Everyone deserves at least one transforming, awe-inducing kiss.
I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats.
(Loved it! Specially the bra-stuffing bit. Made me laugh.)
Never stuffed tissues in my bra. I can see that it is something I may have to start doing. You never know when you might need to mop up a mess. lol
Oooh Selma, my first kiss was with a bad boy too. We were in first year high school and had just finished our French class. He and I were the last two to leave. As I neared the door he pushed me against the wall and kissed me full on the lips. It came out of nowhere. He just as quickly turned and left while I remained against the wall thinking what the hell just happened?
Funny how we never forget that first real kiss. What surprised me was how gentle it was. He had such a BAD reputation, it seemed incongruous somehow. Thanks for the memory.
A great walk down memory lane Selma. A kiss and tell all eh!!! 😉
Isn’t it interesting how “firsts” stay with us, long after so many other events. Not always the best but being first…seems to put events and people in a special place to protect in our memories and hearts,forever.
I hope my memory holds out for some of the good ‘firsts’ that I remember. Other memories, I wish would disappear, once and for all. 😦
KAREN – oh, thank you so much. I did have a laugh when I wrote it. It seems like a lifetime ago, however.
RICHARD – it’s awful, isn’t it? I just don’t get it, either. It seems to be a universal truth that the badder a boy is, the more women want him. So many women I know have had a fling with a bad boy at some stage – almost like a rite of passage. However, most of us have come to our senses and have realised that good guys rule!
CRICKET – I loved the wishes part too. It is funny when kids misinterpret things, isn’t it? Thank you for your lovely comment.
TBALL – you’re back. Well, I can’t wait to hear about your adventures!
MELEAH – I don’t know why I bothered putting tissues in my bra – it just made them look all out of shape. LOL.
PAISLEY – the bad boys really are irresistible. I think we like them because we can see they are just lost or lonely.We think the bad attitude is just a front. And there’s that whole rock’n’roll/movie star thing. Aaaah, those were the days…..
CHRIS – there definitely is a movie-like quality to it. Much of my teenage years seem like snippets from movies. Some of them horrors. LOL.
ROSHAN – well, I would love to hear about that. Please don’t forget to blog about it….
TRAVELRAT – I’m sure you didn’t. Yet I know what you mean. There is a sense of awkwardness about the whole thing. I’m so glad those days are behind me.
JONAS – totally. I’m all for it. It would make the world a better place!
NAT – hahaha. The things we used to do, eh? I remember putting lemon juice in my hair to make it lighter. Trouble is, I was on the swim team and didn’t realise chlorine and lemon juice react badly with each other. My hair went green. Tissues in my bra, green hair. I was a mess!
ADAMSWIFE = so great to hear from you. I recommend the tissues technique. You just never know when they’ll come in handy!
GYPSY – what a story! Oh, I love it. It sounds like something from a novel. How wonderful.
GERALDINE – I know what you mean about the good vs the bad memories. It would be so nice if we had a delete button to get rid of the bad ones. But as my Mum always says: ‘The bad memories make the good ones even sweeter.”
Do I even remember my first kiss? I think not. I was engaged at the age of six, the promise sealed with a handshake and a Batman ring.
And I was boycrazed and kissed thereafter until Mulletman rescued me in 10th grade.
(Now I’m still mancrazed and kissed, but only by one man!)
I’m glad you responded to comments Selma because I was starting to worry about the silence. I know it’s a pain when you’re just having a couple of days off but it’s funny how quickly we get used to people’s habits and then worry when there’s a break from tradition. Good to see you on your rounds 🙂 Ignore me, I’m a worry wart from way back.
GROOVY – those promises sealed with Batman rings are unbreakable. Spiderman rings are forever too. LOL. So great to hear from you!
GYPSY – you are so kind I wish I could hug you right now. I do think you have some kind of sixth sense, though. You always seem to know when something is wrong. Truth be told I haven’t been too well this week. I had a severe attack of endometriosis. Had to call the Doc out and everything because of the pain and all the associated grossness. It is very draining when it hits. But to know you are there really helps. I mean it. You are very special XXX
I don’t think I want to know what that is, but it sounds pretty grim. Just take it easy, and get well soon … we miss you!
In lieu of the real thing I am sending you an endless supply of cyber hugs 🙂
….ah if only kisses were wishes! I loved that part of your story. I wonder why we always go for the bad boy type? We seem to want a take charge guy early in life, maybe dads need to get more involved. You do leave me wanting more of this story. You went out for a whole year, I bet you have lots more. Interesting read! I enjoyed it very much.
TRAVELRAT – it’s one of those ‘don’t ask’ types of things. But I am on the mend. Hurrah!
GYPSY – as Tina said – ‘You’re simply the best…..’
SHORT CHUTE ROAD – well, I am intrigued by your name, so I will have to come and visit you. I do have lots of stories about Johnny James. He was actually one of the kindest people I’ve ever met but he had trouble with authority. I often wonder what he’s doing now….I really appreciate the visit. Thank you!
What a cool story! Good for him not laughing at you for stuffing your bra! At least he had class, even with vodka rotting out his liver. I always felt sad for youngsters like that. I guess I always felt they didn’t quite have things together at home.
TEXASBLU – funny that the bra stuffing stuck in my mind as much as the kiss, isn’t it? Ha ha ha. Yeah, poor Johnny was a little bit lost. He actually was a really nice guy deep down.