Linda Gerber is a fantastic, funny, adventurous writer (you can gather all of that from her Death by Bikini Mysteries -- three madcap, action-filled novels in one big package which is perfect for summer reading!).
Today, she's Rocking the Drop with Readergirlz and Figment! And she's also sharing the story of her first kiss, which was... well, not like in the movies:
"He was older and more experienced; I was young and naïve. My first kiss was… memorable.
"It happened on a perfect summer night when the heat of the day had mellowed to a warm caress. Stars winked and twinkled in a cloudless sky, earthy smells of honeysuckle and freshly-cut-lawn floated on a gentle breeze. Or not. I really don’t remember those details. All I know is it was dark.
"Back in my old neighborhood, there were probably about two dozen of us who would get together nearly every summer night to play popgun, crack-the-whip, radar, kick-the-can, and about anything else we could come up with. Our houses were fairly close, so that when it was time for someone to go in, all our parents had to do was to stand on our respective front porches and yell. (Yes, this was before everyone carried cell phones in their pockets.)
"The accepted rules for The Yelling were simple: the first time you were called, you could consider yourself on notice. The second time was a warning. When a parent yelled for you a third time, it was time to move, or suffer the consequences.
"On the night of my first kiss, the group had been playing radar in front of my house. (Radar is one of those games that was a lot more fun in practice than it sounds on paper. To play, we would stand in the street and watch for cars. When we saw one, we’d yell 'Radar!' and dive onto the lawn, pressing ourselves flat in the grass so that the beam from the car’s headlights wouldn’t touch us. Yes, we thought this was the height of entertainment.) One by one, kids were called inside until there were maybe only four or five of us remaining.
"When my dad yelled for my sister and I the third time, we said our goodnights and started inside through our dark garage. To my surprise, one of the older boys followed us into the shadows. (He was a ninth grader, a year ahead of my older sister, and I was in sixth grade – still elementary school in our school district.)
"He grabbed my hand. 'Just a second.'
"By then my sister was safely inside. 'I have to go in,' I told him, and pulled away.
"'I just want to ask you something.'
"I glanced at my back door, fretting. After the third yell, my parents didn’t give us much leeway. I could either get inside or get in trouble. 'What?' I demanded.
"He moved a little closer – crowding my space so that I backed up a step. 'Will you go with me?' he asked.
“'I can’t go anywhere,' I said, exasperated. 'I have to go in.'
"He just smiled. 'No. I don’t mean go somewhere, like to Carson’s Market or anything. I mean go with me. Like, go steady.'
“'Um,' I said.
"He got close again, but I had run out of room to move away so stood with my back against the door and looked up at him warily.
“'Will you?' he asked.
“'Yeah, okay. I guess so.'
“'Then we should kiss.'
"I panicked. Until that time, I’d only ever kissed my mom and dad goodnight or that sort of thing. How did people kiss kiss? 'I don’t know how,' I had to admit.
“'Just relax your lips.'
"I made my lips go slack, and he smashed his slack lips against mine. It felt kind of clammy and weird. And his breath smelled funny. I was oddly disappointed. I mean, I hadn’t really given first kisses much thought before or anything like that, but I was thinking, This is it?
"After the lip-smashing had gone on for about a minute (or maybe more like ten seconds), I pulled back. 'Okay. I have to go in now.'
"And I did.
"(P.S. I am glad to report that although I really didn’t get the whole smashing lips thing back in sixth grade, I happily discovered the bliss of the kiss not long after.)"
Thanks, Linda! I think this is a classic first kiss, if only for its randomness! Anyone else have a story to share?