There Were Fireworks... Well sort of...

March 11, 2011
So I had a boyfriend before him, but the first kiss thing just didn't happen in the six days we were together. I was on boyfriend number two and it was our second date. He had just turned fifteen and my sixteenth birthday was only eleven days before. Yes, I do like younger men. Deal with it. I remember it just like it was yesterday and I’m sure I’ll never forget. He may be a far cry from intelligent, but that day he was my Romeo.

Even though I was sixteen, I wouldn’t be getting my license until three days after my SEVENTEENTH birthday. Needless to say, my mom had to drive me all the way to Brimfield for my boyfriend’s birthday bash. His name is Corey and at the time he was the sweetest, most charming guy I ever met. Boy, do things change. I labored all day to make myself beautiful because I had a feeling about what was going to happen that evening.

When I got to his house, there was another couple sitting on his brother’s bed in the room that they share; and the young man that would be my next boyfriend, his cousin. Within the next hour or so more and more people trickled in and out, and the sun was low but quite not ready to set. With nothing better to do, our group decided to take a short stroll over to the park.

As we walked his arm slipped across my back and onto my waist, it felt like my whole body tingled with warmth from being so close to him. I was exactly where I wanted to be. Before the park there was an old ramshackled baseball field we chose to continue our mischief. After all, what is a teen boy’s birthday without bottle rockets? Now this may not have been extremely smart, but we broke off all the sticks, lit them up, and chucked them either into the atmosphere or at each other. Let me just say now that no one was really harmed from the flames, only finger tips and one shoe perished.

A buddy of ours found a massive old rake in the dugout and decided that he wanted to write his name into the dirt. Everyone followed him, everyone except Corey and me. Sitting in the corner of the dugout, I embraced him and for the first time in my life; I was speechless. We halfway pulled away from the hug and looked in each other’s eyes. Slowly, we inched our way towards the other’s lips. Just like that, our lips were touching. And that’s all they were doing. You see, neither of us ever kissed anyone before. It took us a second to realize we had to pucker our lips for this to work.

Apparently all along his friends knew what we were doing. While we were too busy in our little moment to pay attention, they climbed onto the roof of the dugout. The second we pulled away from each other a handful of bottle rockets were thrown at us from above.

Just like that, everything changed; just like that I became captivated by the feeling of kissing. The entire night our lips kept touching again and again. Arm around me by the bonfire, in his friend’s garage jamming, and the legendary goodbye kiss I finally experienced for the first time that night. I don’t remember the last time I talked to that boy, but I do know this: I will never forget you Corey Jones.

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