Everyone seemed to have a story about their first kiss around the campfire that night. Yet, Susie was not sure if she wanted to share her story with the other girls.
“…and then he threw up all over me,” ended Kirsten with a disgusted look on her face. “Of course, that was the first and last kiss for us!”
“Worst. First kiss. Ever.” said Jo sympathising with her best friend.
The Year 12 girls were enjoying their first school camp of the year and as was inevitable, began sharing juicy stories around the fire. It had been Jo’s idea to change the usual truth and dare kind of games the girls normally played. And why wouldn’t she, thought Susie. After all, Jo always had great stories to share.
“Who’s next?” asked Jo breaking into Susie’s thoughts.
As Emma volunteered her first-kiss story, Susie wondered if she could somehow slink away unnoticed. She didn’t need any more reminders of her first kiss. Not that she was short of them. She could still vividly remember everything about it as though it happened just yesterday and not eight years ago. The scent of his musky aftershave filling her nostrils, the coarseness of his recently shaven face against her skin, the minty breath as he stuck his tongue into her mouth and the cheesy melody of ‘I want it that way’ playing in the background all intruded her senses till this day. She still couldn’t listen to the Backstreet boys without feeling nauseated. Although, truth be told, that might have had to do more with the music than its relation to her first kiss. The smell of mint made her dizzy and she couldn’t stand the scent of musk.
“Your turn Suze” said Jo interrupting her nightmares.
“First kiss, huh?” said Susie. “It’s pretty lame actually. Not worth talking about.” She hoped they’d let her off easy.
But they wouldn’t.
“It was with a guy I met couple of summers ago at Coffs. Danny. In his car. The only cool thing about it all was that he had a tongue piercing.” She smiled at all the oohs and aahs of the girls at the ‘tongue piercing’. “I can’t remember how long it lasted. Honestly!” she lied easily while trying to push away images of her bruised lips.
Fortunately for Susie, the girls got bored with her not-so-juicy story and moved on leaving her with her demons.
If only she could move on.
But it’s hard to move on when you have to live with your father every day.
(c) Sanch – Living My Imperfect Life
***I wrote this as one of my initial narrative pieces for one of my units. Not too pleased with it but figured I could post it here.***
Until next time,