The Magic of First Kisses

My younger sister tells me she's received her first kiss. This leaves me less petrified than my father, more enthused than my mother, less murderous than my brother, and way more jealous than I should be.

Off the market myself for about 2 years, I am invigorated by her new, giddy feelings. And, as she cannot tell-all to any of the aforementioned members of the family, I am the go-to girl.

I am loving it. Her excitement brings back so many memories. I warn her of roaming hands and give her some great defensive strategies. I warn her of being too available, while avoiding games, which is a tough trick to master. And I warn her of ever going on a date unshowered, unshaved, and unaware. This brings us to the point where I'd like nothing more than to publish every detail of her heart-fluttering new romance, but sworn to secrecy, I cannot. (She is breathing a huge sigh of relief as she reads, while my family begs for more)

But I can talk about my own sordid lip-locking past. It all began at a Halloween party in the eighth grade. I was too mature to go in costume this particular year, (although in hindsight, I'd say some sort of devilish vixen could have bought me more time in the 70 Seconds in Heaven closet).

The Haunted Barn was terrifying and some kind of goblin did touch me, but I was standing too close to too many boys to notice. The Hay Ride was fabulous. I could tell that Karrie Grear was holding hands with somebody under her blanket, and my heart raced for her. Looking from side to side, I saw cold hands attached to cold boys, but none which I particularly wanted to help warm. Rats!

On to the living room for refreshments... and kissing games! The only moments of indoor kissing pleasure that I distinctly remember are these:

- During Spin the Bottle, it only came to me twice: once with a man who is now openly gay and once with a boy whose nickname was "pickle". No matter - I was so scared. I had just crammed down hot chocolate, caramel candies, and Doritos - not a good kissing formula! I did not know if I was supposed to use my tongue, nor how. And although I desperately yearned for a knock-me-off-my-feet "girl you've become a woman" type kiss, (the kind Jessica & Elizabeth Wakefield had been getting in my Sweet Valley Twins books), I was still a little grossed out by the entire process. Lucky for me, neither of these guys were much interested in swapping fluids either. Quick, sweet, brushes of the lips - and unlike my modest sister, I gave my mom every detail as soon as I hopped into the mini-van... She almost lost control.

- During 70 Seconds in Heaven, I was only locked in the closet once: with Camron Faulkner, but there was nothing romantic about this pairing as neither of us wanted to be locked in the closet together! We had been best friends since the womb! This was like brother and sister, and our sick-o friends wanted us to kiss?! Disgusting! So, he stayed on one end of the dark, cramped closet and I stayed up against some boxes on my end. Our so-called friends are counting down the seconds right outside the door, making smoochy sounds and giggling; so, we whisper a plan that when they get to "2", we hug - but not too closely - and when they say "1" and sling open the door, we pull away dramatically and wipe our mouths.

I don't know if that worked, but it was the longest 70 seconds of my life... especially since I'd really looked forward to 70 seconds with someone who would hold me up in his arms and kiss me like I deserved to be kissed - a deep, passionate embrace - locking lips as though the world were falling down around us!

Actually, I've never been kissed like that in a closet.

Maybe I'll suggest that to my sister. After all, at this point of my life, I'm living vicariously through her.