The Kiss

I was deathly afraid my mom would say “war-sh.” It was annoying enough that she seems to work in talk of washing into conversation, but for her to use the Iowan slang, “war-sh” instead of the normal "wash" terrified me. (I’m not sure why though. I’ve found out since many moms say this except for ones from New York of California). I was fifteen and I was waiting for my first date, James, to pick me up and war-sh was all I could think about. My mom hovered in the kitchen making dinner while I waited with my face pressed up to the window in the living room. I racked my brain for topics to steer clear of: dishes, clothing, b.o. I was sweating so the b.o. might be a problem. I imagined James walking into my house meeting my dad who was half watching the Cubs game.
My mother pulling meatloaf in the shape of our high school mascot, the Trojan, out of the stove. “Hi James. Beth you better war-sh up!”
And my brother wearing his Michael Jackson glove, “Hey James. What’s your favorite Phil Collins song?”
Okay, I would not allow this to happen. I was not going to expose the ususally hidden strangeness of my family into the open. My Dad would probably lop off the trojan’s head to have him bring home for left overs. I made a quick phone call.
“Hey mom. I’m meeting him at the Tivoli!” I called to her.
She popped her head out of the kitchen looking a bit disappointed. “All right. Ten o’clock. I’m waiting up.”
I waved a quick goodbye happy to take any contingencies she set.
The Tivoli movie theatre was only four blocks away. Meet me in front, he said. Everyone would see us there. I turned the corner there he was. Long, blonde hair. Cigarette in hand. He hadn’t seen me yet.
“Hey!” I yelled a bit too loudly. He turned toward me as he flicked his cigarette to the curb. For a moment I was completely mesmerized. The way he looks at me…into me.
“Let’s go in,” he said.
His fingertips tickled my palm as he dropped the ticket into my hand. I headed to my usual seat in the 22nd row when...he quickly grabbed my arm.
“Why don’t we sit here?”
Fifth row from the back.
The back.
A place reserved only for… for lovers.
“Ok,” I said. I sat in my seat afraid to look at him. The only guy I’d gone to the movies with alone was my Dad. This was decidedly different. I had no idea what to do. Then as if mocking my panic the light suddenly faded to black.
Oh God it’s starting, I thought to myself.
James grabbed my knee. “Kinda a chick flick, but it should be good.”
Don’t panic, I thought.
And the movie began. I experienced the movie as a berage of color, sound and movement. My eyes fixed, unfocused on the flicker of film and the rattle of the projector filled my ears. All I could think the entire time was how I could still feel his hand on my knee. Those words went through my mind like on a digital screen: His hand is on my knee, his hand is on my knee, his hand is on my knee!An imprint forever left on my virgin skin, only touched before by mom medicating a scrape. My mind searched for a way to preserve that moment. A rush of anticipation filled me. I left my hand hanging over the armrest less than 2 centimeters away from his. My body pulsed with a tingle I only had felt before when I used to play with He-man and She-ra. My body was the epicenter, feeling the quake start to rumble.
“Beth, you ready to go?” He said.
The credits were rolling. The lights burst on unmasking my blushing face .
“Let’s go. I’ll walk you home,” he said.
We walked and we talked the movie and about Nirvana and The Pixies and school. Mental note: Buy those tapes tomorrow. He didn’t treat me like everyone else. We reached the front of my driveway
He leaned in.
Oh God, what do I do, I thought. Do I open my mouth? What do I do with my tongue? My shoulders tightened. Relax, Beth, relax. Here it goes…his lips touched mine…
Suddenly we were falling…weightless, a million miles an hour through phantasmagoria. There was nothing else, but us. He was familiar and sweet. I couldn’t feel where my body ended and his began, like we were dipped in bronze and we have finally come to life. Our lips hummed together. Our breaths in unison. I felt the warmth of our bodies curl around us, pressing us closer and closer until my skin sheds a layer of innocence and--
“I had a great time tonight,” He said.
“I had a great time too. Bye. Goodnight.” He walked down the block, his long blonde hair catching the snowflakes that were starting to fall. The air tasted fresh and new or that could be the junior mints he had during the movie.
True to her word my mom had waited up for me. She didn't press me for detail just went upstairs relived her daughter was home and finished the "war-sh." I sat in the kitched eating the left over trojan head and replayed the kiss over and over. He leaned in…a wave crashing on the shore, he washed away my lips like footprints left on the sand and I was submerged.