First Kisses and ACDC Woman

I am now going to begin a series of first kiss blogs. Is this merely a way to prove that I have indeed been kissed? 

Well, sort of…

What does this have to do with writing???

A lot. I’ve recently realized that while none of my characters are me, that I occasionally use back-story incidents( that I’ve manipulated a lot) of my life to fill out the back story of their lives. 

So, here is a story of one of my first kisses.

I was sleeping over JJ’s house. She was a Reagen Republican and I was the only fifth-grader in NH who liked Jimmy Carter. I loved Jimmy Carter, actually.

JJ’s mom was a nurse and she quilted, big crazy quilts with velvet in them and fluttery stitches, which was really cool. Everybody in JJ’s family was large and tall and rugged. Her dad was around seven feet tall. I felt like a short unhairy hobbit in their log cabin, which was kind of cool because I liked hobbits even if I didn’t like all their hair.


So, we were all hanging out upstairs, JJ, her fourth-grader brother named Eric, and me. We snuck downstairs for some apple pie and there in the middle of the living room was her big mama dancing with her huge father to a Kenny Rogers tune. I think it was “Lady.”

The one that goes, I’m your knight in shining armor and I love you…


“EW!!!” J.J. screamed and we all slammed up the stairs, totally disgusted by the thought of parents dancing.


After a long talk about how grosser than gross parents are Eric went, “I hate Kenny Rogers.”


“Me too,” I said.


“Who do you like?”


“ACDC,” I say, which was true, because all the cool kids in my grade liked ACDC because they had a song called “Big Balls.” I had no idea what that song was referring to because I was an idiot, but I liked to sing it at the top of my lungs in my bedroom while my mom was still at work because I knew it was somehow naughty.  


Eric looked at me in shock. “Cool.”


I nodded in a way that I hoped conveyed that I thought it wasn’t a big deal.


“I love ACDC,” Eric said.


JJ then called him a twerp and told him to go to bed. 


JJ and I hunkered down and read books. We had to read the Hobbit for English.

I’d read it before and was just skimming it because I was lazy. We finally shut off the lights. 


Maybe two minutes later JJ’s door slammed open and someone smashed through the pitch black room and threw his chunky boy body on top of me in the bed. He screamed in a huge, deep, scary voice, “ACDC WOMAN!!!”


And then he kissed me. Pow. Sort of on my lips, but mostly on air because my mouth was open wide and screaming.


JJ threw on the light and her brother leapt up and out of the room, throwing the words “I love you, ACDC Woman” over his shoulder.


JJ, horrified, gaped at me. “My brother kissed you.”


I nodded. “I know. I was there.”


She glared at me. “Shut up. You like Jimmy Carter.”


“You like Reagen.”


“My brother,” she declared, “should have better taste.”

How about you? Did ACDC ever get you kissed? Do you have weird first kiss stories? If you’re a writer, do bits of your past ever end up in your characters’ back stories?

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First Kisses

I was thinking about first kisses. And one of my first kisses was so traumatic… Like, um, really traumatic… So, traumatic I had to put it in the third person, but here it is ….

The Story

They bumble around a bit on the boat. Their parents party a dozen slips away. They kiss long, slow, the best fifth grade kiss ever and he says, “Let’s go to the back berth and lay down like we’re married. 
 
His thumb runs over a Band-Aid on her hand. Beneath it is a gash from a fish hook that stuck there this morning when she tried to cast. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she said as her dad took the hook out. 

The cut is still there, lying beneath.

 He moves his finger from the Band-Aid.

“Let’s go to the back berth.” He squeezes her hand like he did the first time they met and he’d built a sand castle and said, “I’ll be the knight and you’re the princess and I’m protecting you.”

 “Okay,” she’d said then.

 Now he wants to be the husband and she the wife in the back berth.
It seems a natural progression.

“Okay,” she says.

They get up, hand in hand. She nods at their shoes. Her mom worries about staining the maroon, velour upholstery that covers the boats back berth. Her mom worries about dirt on the carpet too and  she’d forgotten that and their shoes are still on.

“Sorry, my mom.”

“Yeah, right.”

He bends in half and unties her sneakers first like her mom used to when she was little. Back then she’d stomp her feet if it took too long. He takes too long. She doesn’t stomp. His fingers shake. Her fingers touch the top pf his blonde feathered hair.

She decides to marry him, as soon as they are of legal age

Which is what in New Hampshire? It’s thirteen with parental consent. That isn’t too long to wait.

 
He yanks off his own shoes, pulls her into the berth and they flatten themselves, stare at the fiberglass ceiling. His foot hooks around hers. His fingers sweat next to hers. They are just like grown ups, next to each other, next to each other in the night, just the same.
 

She smiles. He moves closer. Then … boom … plops his body on top of hers, weighing her down. His tongue pushes between her smiling teeth. She softens beneath him, heart pushing her on, a boy’s tongue in her mouth

Just like grown-ups.

Her hand reaches towards his hair, but the Band-Aid catches on his watch and rips off, reveals her unhealed cut, her wound.

Her knight, her husband, he doesn’t notice, just slides against he r… and then … and then …

He leaps away… groans. She’s alone on the berth in the night with her shoes off and he runs,

Hands rush to his zipper. He turns frantic, pulls on the zipper as she sits up, watching, mouth open and alone.

 He slams into the head and she creeps out of the back birth, creeps out and looks down on the floor by their shoes at the spiral of white wetness,

A spiral of something that came from him. What? Pee?

She wipes her closed lips with her fingers, steps back, stares at the closed door to the head.

A moan comes from behind it.

The cut on her hand begins to bleed and she wonders, wonders about things, what’s happened, why she’s alone, what’s on the floor, what’s happened. She wonders and wonders … just like grownups.


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