I haven’t told a story in a while, so I figured my ‘return-from-the-dead’ post should be it. This is a story every girl should remember, especially if they’re as lovey dovey as I have the tendency to be.
My first kiss didn’t quite happen the way it was supposed to. Yes, there’s a protocol for the way these sorts of things are suppsed to happen. The memory of a girl’s first kiss is supposed to last a lifetime, she is meant to be swept off her feet, and the kiss should haunt her for days after it’s happened. She’s supposed to want to tell her friends, and yes- look at the giver of that kiss differently from that day forward. Yea, I’m dramatic, but let’s go with it… ok? Right.
So, like I said, my first kiss didn’t appear to be any of these things. I wasn’t in love, it wasn’t at the end of a wonderful date filled with shy advances and ‘longing glances’, it wasn’t my birthday, it was certainly not Valentine’s day, and nope, he definitely didn’t tilt his head or grab my chin.
Well, he did grab something but… I digress. My first kiss was a display of five year-old ‘passion’. See, I had asked Mrs. Mensah’s permission to go to the bathroom, and all I was doing was walking there. The girls’ and boys’ bathrooms were adjacent to each other, much closer than any older kids (read teen) bathrooms would be, but I guess the administration hadn’t really bargained for testosterone to rear its eager head this soon in our young lives. So, I was going along my merry way, hoping to get to the restroom. All of a sudden— and this happened in a flash— all of a sudden, I was pinned against a wall and there was saliva on the area of my face below my nose. The wall pinning and saliva smearing happened simultaneously, just to help with your imagery. For a few seconds I was confused, then I looked to see who my ‘attacker’ was. Let’s call him Stephen Darko. Stephen Darko! What did this mean? What was he trying to tell me? Where did this go from here? I mean, could I still go pee… like nothing had happened, like my life didn’t just change forever?
After much thought and consternation, I had decided. The truth had to be told. I’m not proud of this, and I apologize to Stephen Darko, wherever he is. I went to Mrs. Mensah and shared what had happened. Yes- Stephen had kissed me, and I wasn’t sure what was next. In my defense, I felt bad when I heard Stephen’s five year-old butt getting acquainted with her cane.
Then I went home, my family had to know too. I told my brothers the news. ‘Stephen kissed me.’ (They should know who Stephen is, doesn’t everybody know the people in my class?) I guess I didn’t get as much attention as I hoped, so I lingered around as they asked questions. Yes, Mrs. Mensah had beaten him, no, he was not my ‘boyfriend’, actually, I didn’t know…
My brothers continued their conversation about their own more excitng lives. ‘This girl Nina was a virgin… bla bla.’ I heard a word I didn’t recognize.
“Virgin? What’s a virgin?” They hesitated. My brother Chris said, “A virgin is a girl who hasn’t done… anything with a boy.”
I quickly saw an opportunity to inject myself into their conversation.
“Then I’m not a virgin! Cos Stephen kissed me!”
… O__o
They had to agree.
