by Crystal Kupper,
As my 16th summer dawned, I had a few goals: earn some money at my assortment of part-time jobs. Pass driver’s ed. And get my first kiss.
Yes, at the ripe old age of 15, I still hadn’t been kissed. Thankfully (because who wants to be the last one?), three of my best friends also held that title. We made a somewhat odd wager over who would be the first one to leave the club. Typical teenage girls, no one bet on themselves, because each of us just knew we were the ugliest, most un-cool ones in the group.
Just a few weeks later, my childhood crush kissed me (right after I got out of driver’s ed for the day, in fact. Now that’s efficiency!). And I journaled the hecked out of the moment.
“The room suddenly seemed to get so quiet…I looked up at him, my own heart beating wildly…I thought I was going to melt…I had always thought I would think all this stuff before and during my first kiss, but I didn’t [Adult Crystal inserts: yes, deep thoughts like where do I put my nose? What if we crash teeth?]…I was kind of in dreamland [Adult Crystal again: obviously! Dramatic much?].
I’ll spare you the other eight pages.
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