It was the summer of ‘06 and shit was liiit. Okay, I’m lying, shit sucked. At least in my 13 year old head, but looking back those were definitely “the good old day” or whatever. I was post-pubescent and horny as fuck but like most 13 year old girls in Southern California, I was question my sexuality heavily. I knew I liked boys, with their cool hair and band tees but girls confused me. I idolized them, constantly seeking reassurance that I was cool or cute. A self consciousness I picked up on from my ever so introverted mother, but I digress. I knew that beyond idolizing them, I found women beautiful. Not necessarily in the sexual way I desired men but in the way that the “body is art” and women’s curves intrigued me.
So when the coolest girl in our grades boyfriend (who was OBVIOUSLY, the coolest guy in the grade) broke up with her and she befriended me, I couldn’t help but be ecstatic! I had a few cool friends at the school already, somehow, but this girl was next level. The wild child you imagine from the movie Thirteen with a complicated home life and the clothing to match. She was grudge meets punk rock and I ate it up, enviously staring as she’d apply the makeup my mother never let me wear. Despite my obvious infatuation with her and my mom’s hesitation in fueling our friendship, we became inseparable.
Between all the weekend sleepovers at my house to talking on the phone, I felt accepted and sometimes... even a tiny bit cool. Thanks to her, I had gained some new friends and even a boyfriend, but it came at a cost. We hung out at my house a lot, which probably doesn’t sound like a problem to most, but my parents were stricttt. Mainly because my mom was paranoid I’d get raped, a fear I much better understand now. But because of this, my step brother was also, on most occasions, part of the picture. This caused some animosity because he, like I, was also infatuated with her. I mean fuuuck, who wasn’t?
We were quite the group, for real. Me, a sassy young ginger with a little “too much weight” and way too much boob. Her, a blond with teased hair (think scene kid, racoon style meets KISS), a lot of boob and lips she’d cover in concealer so it’d almost look like she had none. (Which now seems odd as an adult but so it goes *insert spirit fingers*) Then there was my brother, the handsome troublemaker that everyone at school knew was a dickhead but still secretly wanted to kiss. Lastly, was our guy friend/my ex boyfriend who I’ll call Juan. He was beautiful (another testament to my knowledge that I liked boys) with long, curly hair that everyone, even my mom, insisted on touching and a stoner personality that matched. We had a few other friends but this, THIS was the main crew ATM.
Eventually summer rolled around and we had a lottt of time on our hands. I mean, A LOT! My parents worked all day and because I was “responsible for my age”, I was often left in charge of watching my siblings. Which, unspokenly included my older brother. One afternoon everyone gathered at my house, knowing my parents would be gone all day and I was kid free (a funny thing to say when I myself was a kid). The 4 of us plus another girlfriend from the neighborhood all gathered in the kitchen as we discussing the forbidden subject, kissing. Now, don’t misunderstand me, this was forbidden to me but not to anyone else (aside from the other neighborhood girl who was a little more on the angelic virgin side).
As everyone swapped stories I panicked, knowing soon it would turn to me. Seconds later, everyone turned and my friend, the girl I essentially loved, asked, “So I know you are dating ________ right now, you guys have kissed right?” I could feel my face turn red immediately, what was I supposed to say? “No..” I muttered, “I don’t know how and I don’t want to do it wrong so we just haven’t..” My friend nodded and my brother started laughing behind her. “Pussy”, he mumbled at me. This made me furious. I wasn’t scared, per say, I just didn’t want to fuck up with my boyfriend. Is that so wrong?
My friend noticed my discomfort and quickly came over to whisper, “do you want me to teach you?” My face, somehow, got more red but that didn’t stop me from quickly nodding my head “yes”. She turned around and immediately ordered everyone to leave the kitchen, as if they couldn’t simply peek back in once we started. (which of course, they did *insert shrug and hair flip emoji*) My girl friend from the neighborhood was in charge of keeping them in the room, but due to her scaredy cat type ways she was unsuccessful. As they fucked around in the other room, plotting on ways to witness the kiss, I stood in the kitchen with my friend.
With my face was in her hands, she moved closer to me. “Are you ready?” she whispered, her lips nearly touching mine. So close I could not only smell, but taste, her gum. It was wintermint. “Yeah” I replied shakily, still in disbelief she was about to be my first, intentional, tongue kiss. Gently she touched her lips to mine. I was certain her concealer lipstick would rub off on me and maybe it’d look good on me too, but there was no time for these thoughts right now. I needed to focus on the kiss.
After a moment of peck style kissing, she separated my lips with her lips and slid her tongue ever so slightly into my mouth. When I didn’t seem entirely thrown off, she kept going. Slowly putting more and more into my mouth until we were able to twist our tongues around one another. Almost as if they were playing “Ring Around the Rosie” or whatever that game is where you’d hold hands and spin until you fall. I didn’t know if this was right or wrong but I was committed to following her lead.
The entirety of our kiss must’ve been about 45 seconds but it felt like 5 minutes. A solid first experience, disregarding the fact that I loved her and wanted to kiss more. When we walked back into the living room you could tell everyone was upset, well, except Juan who thought it was hot. His words, not mine. My brother pouted in the corner, childishly crying to himself. Asking the gods for answers on why she hadn’t kissed him. My friend from the neighborhood was also upset for reasons unbenounced to me and within minutes had stormed out. I was blown by their behavior. I wasn’t about to let their shocking reactions ruin my experience. I had kissed the coolest fucking girl in school, dude! Fuck them.
The next day when word hit the street, ie the middle school cafeteria, people were furious. Primarily my boyfriend. I thought I had given him a gift of sorts by relieving him of the duties that are teach someone to kiss. Or so I told myself in an attempt to convince brain I hadn’t actually cheated. It was obvious he didn’t agree. I wish I could remember the extent of it but I can’t. I do however remember him holding me against the wall of the Vince's Pizza Place so hard I had bruises. Just as I remember my step dad walking up to him when he saw and telling him, “I don’t care if you’re 14, touch my daughter again and I’ll fuck both you and your dad up.” He was livid but not as livid as he was about to be.
Although my dad has broken up the altercation, he still didn’t know what caused it and like any parent, he was dead set on finding out. He asked and asked but through my tears I kept repeating, “it’s nothing, just a dumb fight.” After enough of this claim, my parents gave up. They still didn’t know the truth but were beyond trying to pry it out of me. “She’s 13, how serious could it be?”, I heard my mom whisper one night. She was right, it wasn’t serious at all, at least to me. That being said, I still wouldn’t dare tell her. She was a newly found Christian, the holiest of mother’s, the blocker of all channels that were Disney. I knew she couldn’t handle it.
A month or so had passed and I thought I was in the clear. Largely the girl and I’s friendship has fizzled out as she found a cool new dude and no longer needed to tote me around on her side. A harsh reality but so it goes. I had since moved on to re-pursuing Juan, his godlike hair still got me inexplicably moist and therefore, I needed to claim him. My finessing was coming along well, especially since he was still frequently over at our house. Only to find out things were about to halt for quite some time, thanks to my dumb fucking brother.
As soon as I walked in the house, I could sense I was in trouble. My mom was obvious and deliberate in her reaction both emotionally and physically. A warrior known for planting emotional time bombs and occasionally, stabbing my step dad with a fork. My initial hope was to pray it was my brother, as often times it was. But the look on my moms face screamed something different. I could tell before she spoke that I, in fact, was the accused. It took mere seconds for me to notice the plethora of items strewn across the counter. The oh so apparent incriminating evidence to this so called crime scene.
“Fuuuuuuck,” screamed the voice in my head, “FUCK!” On the counter laid a number of porno mags, a stolen camera and a few other items I can’t remember but I’m fairly certain involved stolen cash. These were my brothers belongings, but they had been stored in my room. Nervously, I glanced from the items to my mom, unsure why exactly she thought these belonged to me. I mean, I’m no genuine but it seemed prettttty obvious this was his stash. “Don’t worry about what’s on the corner, we know that’s not yours..” immediately a wave of relief washed over me. “But your brother mentioned something interesting, didn’t he?” my mom asked, hinting at my dad to respond.
He didn’t speak. My mom quickly picked back up with, “He told us that you kissed a girl?! So that’s what you’re doing now? This is what’s been happening at all your sleepovers and behind closed doors?!” She was mad, so much so that little piece of spit hit my face. I don’t even know that it was the thought of me being gay as much as, the thought of me having sex under her roof PERIOD. As she screamed I stared at my brother. My body rapidly filling with rage. I couldn’t help but imagine the ways I’d beat his ass once we were alone.
It took my mom over an hour to finish lecturing me, a few weeks to quit bringing it up and a couple months for me to get off “grounding”. In part, for kissing the girl but also for aiding my brother. It felt like a losing battle. I couldn’t seem to make anyone understand my logic but the truth of it was, there probably was none. I couldn’t help but imagine how mad she’d have been if she walked in on all the other stuff we’d done. Like when she painted a large butterfly across my breasts and then helped me wash it off. Stuff like that. As time passed, my family forgot what happened. Leaving us to graduate and go on to what we’d soon find out was true suffering, High School.
Moral of the story, kiss women and live your fucking life. Oh and, try that “ring around the Rosie” tongue trick on your dudes dick, I promise you’ll thank me later.