The first time I kissed a girl, was on a breezy summer day, before my junior year of high school. I invited a friend of a friend over to watch a movie or two, and we ended up just chilling on my bed talking. I can distinctly remember the way that the sun shinned through my window, a light breeze filtering through the sheer laced curtains. Her dark brown hair was splayed across my bed, as we chatted about junior year, our soon to b classes, and life. The topic about boys and crushes came up, and at that time I had already began questioning my sexuality. I didn’t talk much on the topic, I let her go on, as I nodded my head. She stopped talking and a silence fell around us, enough that we could hear the small chirping of the birds outside. I turned to her, shocked to see that she was also looking at me. Her eyes were a light brown, almost hazel, round and so expressive. I felt so ugly under her gaze. Nothing had prepared me for when she leaned over and kissed me quickly on the lips. My eyes had widened, and I sucked in a breath. She pulled away, her eyebrows scrunching up. She was so close that I could see the small splattering of freckles on her nose, and the gold tint of her eyes. I wanted to kiss her. So I did. It was everything I thought it would be and more. Our lips fumbled a bit from nerves and excitement. But we slowly found a groove. I remember when I felt her tongue on my upper lip. My heart had been beating wildly. Without realizing it, my hand had found its way into her soft brown hair, massaging it. Something quiet escaped her mouth. A moan? A sigh? I couldn’t register as the sound of my heart pumped loudly in my ear. The kiss went on for several more minutes, our tongues becoming more sure and abrasive. Then it stopped. She pulled away, got up from my bed, and walked to my desk to grab her phone and keys. I was still on my bed, wanting to ask her what had happened, what it meant. But I couldn’t get the words out. She muttered a quiet “I have to go, sorry” and left my room. I stared at the ceiling in shock, belief, and a little bit of anger. We never talked about it the next time we saw each other. Some of our friends noticed how awkward we were around each other and tried to coax something out, but neither of us said a word. She started dating a guy at our school. I will admit I was jealous. But I knew that it would never work, if there was even anything between us, no matter how much I wanted it to. She was running, and I was stopping.
