I wasn’t like everyone else. I didn’t play seven minutes in heaven, I didn’t have a disgusting boy that planted a smacker on me out of nowhere and run home with ‘cooties’. I wasn’t scared of boys, in saying that, I didn’t really want to kiss them or hug them or anything to do with them either. I loved my friends, more than anything really. It wasn’t until high school that I kinda of grew an interest in boys, but that’s another story.
I had a friend. We went to different schools initially. We met on the school bus, our friendship was based on bumping roads, silly jokes, and warm summer breeze.
It wasn’t long before I moved schools and I was at the same school as her. I moved from a private school to the public school system where she was. She was a year above me in school so I didn’t get to have classes with her or anything like that.
I would spend mornings, every meal time and after school with her. We were almost inseparable. Being best friends, we would often spend nights at each others house, having sleepover parties.
On this occasion, I was 8, she was 9. We were at my house, I lived on a property where my grandparents lived just up the hill, about 30 meters away.
We would often go up to my grandparent’s house while they were out during the day, play in their garden and just be kids, really. We decided this day, we would play families, we were in the garden and we created a home, we used some pot plants as like the kitchen area, a mossy area as the bedroom and where some plants hung over the railing, that was our door. This was all set up in a greenhouse types area.
We funnily assumed that adults had an accent, so we started talking with a posh and sophisticated kind of accent. She was the mum and I was the dad. I was going out to ‘work’ this day, Without even really thinking of it, we were just going off what our parents did, they were the inspiration and role model in this situation, so we kissed each other on the lips, goodbye, just like couples would.
I was nervous but it wasn’t scary, it was nice. I liked it. When I returned from ‘work’, we kissed again. It became easier each time. We finished our game and went back down home, but we didn’t really stop kissing. Before we went for a shower, we would kiss, then before bed, then the next morning. It continued the whole time she was at my house for our sleepover.
It didn’t continue through school or anything like that but in that moment, in that weekend, I realised how much I enjoyed kissing and more than that, I was liked kissing girls and found myself daydreaming about them, forgetting the existence of boys.