The First Kiss
Contrary to a lot of teenage kids, Justin and I didn’t head straight for the bedroom; we were church goers and both virgins. Emily quickly informed me that I would be Justin first kiss. He was not my first kiss, but he would be my first high school boy kiss.
It finally went down in my family hot tub on a sweltering night in August.
“Hey Jess, where are your parents?” he asked while creeping my way.
“They went to a movie, but should be home pretty soon,” I replied.
Justin seemed more eager than usual to take a dip in the hot tub but I assumed he wanted to take a peek at me in my bikini. We’d only been dating a few weeks and I never suspected he’d have the balls to try and french kiss me so soon.
As I turned my head back in his direction, I could sense that something was fixing to happen.
He looked into my eyes, brushed back my hair, and proceeded to shove his tongue down my throat. GROSS!!!
Oh my God, I thought, how long do I have to pretend to enjoy this? Did I mistake the neighbor’s dog for Justin? When the kiss finally ended, I noticed a light on inside my house. I took this as my opportunity to get the heck out of dodge.
“They’re home,” I said jumping from the hot tub.
I rushed back to my bedroom. I was mortified and I wanted to break up with him.
The next morning I got a call from Justin asking to drop by my house after school. He wanted to give me a note. Great, I thought, I can’t break up with him until I at least read his note.
The note went something like this:
Jessica, I wanted you to know that I have started to develop very strong feelings for you. All I do is think about you. You make me happier than I’ve ever been and I’m so glad you spit on that guy at Opryland. I know we are young but I really think we are unique and unusual.
Love, Justin
Oh my God, he said love, does that mean he loves me? Now I was even more confused. My mom entered my room and noticed how deep in thought I was.
“Hey honey, how are things with Justin? He seems like such a sweetheart,” she said.
“I don’t know what to do mom,” I cried, “I like him so much but he is such a bad kisser.”
Mom had an interesting look on her face as she quietly listened. It almost seemed as though she was smiling.
“You can teach a guy how to kiss, honey,” she said, “what you can’t do is teach him how to adore you. And the chances of you finding another guy who adores you like Justin does are pretty damn slim.”
I knew in my heart she was right. I knew Justin was too awesome to throw away.
The next evening was a Friday night and Justin had called me, wanting to take me on a date. Over the course of our dinner, the letter was not mentioned, but it was definitely the elephant in the room. We had a decent time but I couldn’t help but worry about the moment the evening would come to a close. What should I do if he tries to kiss me again?
After we arrive at my house, Justin insists on walking me to my door.
“That’s okay,” I say, “it’s late and you don’t want to miss curfew.”
But Justin doesn’t stop and continues walking me to my door. I flashback to his slobbery, pointy, angry tongue pushing its way around my tonsils.
As he leans in, I take a breath, close my eyes and brace myself for the worst. Imagine he’s Brad Pitt, I tell myself.
Much to my surprise, it isn’t bad. The kiss is gentle, soft, and even sexy. I open my eyes for a peak. I have to make sure it’s really him. As our lips part ways, my knees are weak and I have butterflies in my stomach.
I feel ecstatic but also a little confused. What the heck happened? How did he get so good in just a couple days?
As we close the door and say goodnight I notice my mom waiting up.
“So, how did it go?” she asks.
“Where you spying on us?” I respond.
“Of course not,” she replies, “I heard his car drive up so I waited for you to come inside.”
“I’m so disappointed in myself,” I say, “I can’t believe I was ready to dump him over a silly little kiss.”
“It was that good huh?” she says while grinning ear to ear.
I thank her for the advice and excuse myself to my room. That evening before closing my eyes, I read Justin’s note one more time. This time it feels different and at 14-years-old I wonder if maybe, just maybe I might be falling in love.
Come back tomorrow for Part Four: Falling In Love
Pingback: The Justin and Jessica Chronicles: Part Four