The night started settling in and the place started to get crowded. People started drinking more while others were tipsy already. Amongst them was a fellow classmate, whose experience with handling alcohol and going out until dawn didn’t give her the best reputation. I went up to her and grabbed a few more drinks and had a very brief chat. The music started getting louder, so loud I could feel my insides move. A while later a friend of hers came in impromptu, interrupted our conversation and snatched a kiss from her. My mind was still processing what happened when a mutual friend came in to share a smooch with the guy that came in unexpectedly. I was in shock, and it was conspicuous.
That was when it happened. That was when my friend picked her lips out and signaled for a kiss.
I felt awkward. I pointed at myself to make sure she meant me, and she did. I was a bit hesitant, but I knew deep inside that I’ve always wanted to kiss a girl. I didn’t want to leave her hanging though, nor did I want to give hints of my hesitation, hints that would make people question why I didn’t want to kiss her. So, I just closed my eyes, pouted my lips out and slowly went for the kiss.
And it happened, our lips met with a quick peck. I expected the taste of cherries or strawberries, my expectectations ruined by reality. She tasted like pizza, cigarettes, and a hint of alcohol. Not a taste you would want to have stuck for the rest of the night. That quick smooch left no effect on me. It didn’t make my heart beat faster, nor did it make me wanting more; it literally felt like nothing.
The young and naive me learned a couple of things that day. I learned that I shouldn’t raise my expectations, girls are not always pink and girly. I learned to to underestimate the effect of alcohol. Yet most importantly, I discovered that kissing a girl feels hollow, almost feels like kissing your own hand. But who knows, maybe it was because it was a quick peck…