The First Kiss Lasts

Mouth agape, Blaise turned away.

‘It’s him. It can’t be. His family moved away. But I know it’s him. He’s back? Who but Dale could be so dreamy?’

She left the room. She couldn’t deal with the emotions welling up from who knows where? Blaise hadn’t seen Dale in at least a decade, since grade school. The summer before third grade? His family took him away and she never saw him again.

Until he walked into the first party of their senior year.

‘Wow. Here we are. All grown up.’

She never forgot the last time she saw him. The movers were marching in and out, filling the big van. They’d been best buds. Sat next to each other in class. Went swimming. Spent their free time together.

They heard his mother calling. ‘Dale! Time to go!’

It was tragic. They held hands for the last time ever. His mother called urgently. Dale hugged her.

He said, “I have to go…”

Their eyes locked. She couldn’t speak.

He kissed her. What a thrill! So tender, warm and deep.

She was so surprised. They’d never kissed before.

He broke away and ran around to the front of his house. Blaise broke down in tears. She couldn’t wave good-bye.

Her parents had no idea what happened. She heard them talking. ‘What happened to my baby? She’s sad all the time…’

Years passed and her grief ran its course. She became a normal girl again. She had friends… girlfriends. They had fun. They did girly stuff. Played with dolls, rode bikes, went skating. Listened to music…

She went on a few dates. Even kissed a few of them. Or rather, they kissed her. But none measured up. No one could kiss like Dale. When Dale kissed her, she’d stayed kissed.

Knowing she was only a kid then, Blaise gave up expecting that shivery feeling again. She decided kissing was not her thing.

You could understand why. After some of the geeks who kissed her, you’d keep lip locking on the back burner too.

There was Brady ‘Fish Lips’ Fischer. They met in sixth grade, and he was on her trail for a year. Then, in seventh grade, he cornered her against a locker at school. Wet and sloppy were her words to describe the disgusting experience.

Yes, he was a clumsy seventh grader, and a boy no less. Or is that redundant?

She learned evasive actions after that. Many tried and failed to make contact. She became anxious. ‘Is it me? Am I so irresistible? Or merely an unguarded, easy target?’

Blaise thought she looked alright. ‘Okay, I’m no raging beauty, but sheesh!’

In tenth grade, a kid named Dewey presented himself as Casanova’s heir. Only he kissed like he expected to catch the plague. Calling it a ‘peck’ would be grandiose and more than generous. Her nickname for him was Dewey, ‘the Decimal.’

Of course, Dewey was preferable to Plunger Paul. When Paul stuck his tongue down her throat, she feared he would steal her uvula. She told friends he was nice, but suffocation was not a turn-on.

Some guys would go straight for the hickey. To Blaise it seemed like kissing was all about numbers. She felt they had gun-slinger complexes, needing to notch their gun to boast their many conquests. Bragging rights were based on quantity. Quality never came up. Not even mutual pleasure. Just body count.

She couldn’t believe that in the third grade, Dale knew more about kissing than all these baby studs armed with breath mints and Chap Stick.

She never forgot Dale’s kiss. Her first.

Blaise’s friends insisted Dale’s kiss unfairly tainted those of more recent boyfriends. How could anyone’s surpass her memory of that innocent kiss glowing in nostalgia’s golden light?

Obviously, they couldn’t. And shouldn’t. That kiss wasn’t a hit and run. Nor a drive-by performed to rack up pissing contest points in a locker room. Let someone else inspire the champion.

Competition held no allure for her. Blaise had her memories. Even at that tender age she and Dale had shared something that these guys might never know. Blaise had no reasons to teach them. None had shown either the curiosity or inclination to learn.

Blaise didn’t consider herself to be expert or experienced in the ways of love. But she knew what she liked. And that one kiss would remain beyond compare.

No wonder she’d resigned from dating and kissing. She no longer expected anything resembling tenderness from a guy.

‘No more feeling like a fawn amidst ravening wolves. I’ve had it.’

But then Dale walked into the room.

‘Impossible!’

Blaise had to know. She needed to find out who this young man was. And if he was, indeed, her Dale, would he remember her?

The anticipation of meeting him again, regardless the outcome, was scintillating.

Holding a glass of soda, she found a vantage point from where she could observe this intriguing young man. She knew he must be her Dale.

The soda allowed her to hide if Dale glanced in her direction.

She watched him joke with friends, some of whom she’d known her whole life. He was reconnecting to people he knew before he moved.

‘He looks like Dale would. He knows the same people Dale would. I’m drawn to him the way Dale would draw me… Here goes…’

Prepared, or so she thought, for the worst, Blaise approached him as indirectly as possible. She greeted friends, shared a laugh, touched glasses with someone she hadn’t seen since spring. And then she found herself at his side.

‘No doubt. It’s Dale.’

She bumped his arm and looked up as he turned to her.

“Excuse me. I didn’t… Oh… Dale?”

His eyes widened in disbelief. “Blaise? Is it you? Where have you been? I’ve been searching for you.”

“I’ve been here. I never left.”

“Of course… I did that. But I had to. I was a kid.”

They laughed.

She said, “How are you? Visiting? Are you back?”

“No, I’m back. Weird huh? Senior year, being the new kid? Yet I know everyone. There’s Paul… and Jake. I saw Brady earlier. He hasn’t changed.”

“Believe it.”

“Is Dewey around?”

“Couldn’t say.”

“Anyway, how are you?”

‘Talk about loaded questions! Where do I start?’

“I’m good. Swamped with homework. Out of my depth. I guess we don’t have any of the same classes.”

“Yeah, I looked for you but…”

Suddenly, the air left the room. It felt like everyone had shut up. The music stopped. There was nothing to say.

Eyes glistening, Blaise tried to think. ‘Idiot! Say something!’ She didn’t know if anyone heard that, if she was speaking to herself or to Dale.

He looked at her, also searching.

Blaise said, “I missed you.”

He leaned in and kissed her. A bunch of the kids around them cheered and clapped.

They pulled away from each other, embarrassed.

Dale said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean… Do you have… are you…?”

“No… It’s okay. Really… You always surprise me.”

They burst into laughter and hugged each other like old friends would. More cheers and applause surrounded them.

She couldn’t shake the feeling. Blaise couldn’t slough off the unmistakable sense of having just kissed a book from someone’s dusty attic. She now had a new category for her dubious collection - dry and a little raspy.

She would never forget that first dreamy kiss. That book was closed.

She was free to find a new one, not based on a dream.