Tuesday, March 17, 2009

First Kiss

The first girl I ever kissed was named Joy Rush*. How cool is that? I'm not sure her life was all that joyful, but she was beautiful and whatever else elementary school kids think is hot and she was my girlfriend from grade three all the way through grade six. Sixth grade was when the kiss happened.

I rode my Schwinn Stingray (look it up, young people) to her aunt's house, where she was babysitting after school. She gave me a little gin and grape juice -- my first cocktail -- and we sort of chased each other around the house until we suddenly found ourselves face to face in a doorway. That's when it happened. Three seconds or so, no tongue, and it was glorious. I remember it better than anything else that happened that year.

I only saw her outside of school a couple more times. We ended up in different schools the next year and I lost track of her. I heard she got "in trouble" a couple of years later. I caught wind of a vague rumor that she may have passed away some years ago. She always seemed destined for a harder life than mine.

For all of the trouble and heartache in our futures, she was my Joy and my Juliet for that one innocent, timeless moment. Via con dios, Joy. I won't forget.

*Her official name was Roberta, but everyone called her Joy.

No comments:

Post a Comment