Just like in every pop song, we were seventeen and at the beach, one semi-chilly night in late August.
We had gone on several dates beforehand and it had felt very platonic. I had told my best friends that I think he just doesn't think of me that way. Mind you, this was my first ever "boyfriend", and I had been crushing on him for 2 years before he had ever talked to me.
Laying on SpongeBob and I love Florida beach towels, we were looking up at stars (as you do on romantic dates) and I can't for the life of me remember what we were talking about.
But, I knew when the kiss was coming.
I had told him that my nose was cold.
And he asked, "Do you want me to warm it up for you?"
My instinct was to laugh at him and say no, but I knew what he meant and after several moments, I said yes.
I hardly had enough time to panic or to change my mind about it before he kissed me.
And it was nothing like I expected.
We had both never kissed anyone before and I thought that it would be just a tiny little peck.
But it was a full-on open-mouthed slobber fest.
I got home that night and relayed the events to my ten-year-old little sister (who, I hope I didn't traumatize) and then proceeded to question my sexuality for the next week.
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