Tiny Little Fractures

Chapter Five

Jon and I spent every day together after we became friends. In the beginning, our friendship had just been because of the carpool chain. We spent the early morning ride to school talking at the back of the car of whoever was driving that day. My mom said she could tell right away that we were going to be close. Even when it was her turn to drive, I would hop into the backseat to sit with him instead of her or even Stephanie.

Jon and I didn’t have a whole lot in common when we were kids. He already knew he wanted to be a doctor. I changed my future career choice every day. Sometimes I wanted to be a movie star, sometimes I wanted to be a teacher. I liked to read a lot, and Jon liked to hear stories. He wanted to help people, and I liked the way his kindness rubbed off on me. We talked because we could. I just didn’t know I liked him then. He was a boy and I had just barely gotten over the fact that cooties didn’t exist. I wanted to be mature about our friendship.

The first kiss happened two and a half years after we met. By then I had already come to the conclusion that I liked him. In more than your average friendly way. I didn’t know if he felt the same about me, but on occasion he would make comments about me being cute. Back then when a boy called you cute he might as well have just admitted he was in love with you. I never brought it up though. Maybe I was too critical of myself even then, but I feared rejection just like everyone does. I still thought about it a lot, and I gushed over it when I was alone. Stephanie and I would giggle about it when he wasn’t around.

Our first kiss happened on a weekend when we decided to ride our bikes down to the beach. It was just the two of us that day because everyone was busy or grounded or couldn’t come out. It was a hot summer day and we had nothing better to do. The heat was rising by the second and by the time we reached the beach we were already damp with sweat and couldn’t wait to jump into the freezing ocean water.

Whenever people ask me about that first kiss they expect a cheesy romance. I guess it wasn’t really like that. Kissing is never what you think it’s going to be. Or the way movies make it out to be. Kissing is weird. Especially when it’s new. Sticking your tongue in someone else’s mouth isn’t really that romantic. Sure, all the other kids our age were doing it and the weirdest thing about kissing is that even when you know it’s weird you still want to keep doing it. But the truth is that back then I had never actually taken saliva into account and another person’s tongue didn’t feel quite the same way mine did in my mouth.

So after we cooled off in the water, we steered our bikes toward the boardwalk to find a snack bar. We both ordered sodas and then sat down on a low brick wall that separated the sidewalk from the sand. We faced the ocean. It was a mild day. The beach is always windy, but it felt nice and cool. The waves weren’t very big.

We were just twelve years old. Kissing was a new experience. And while it might have seemed exciting, on the other side of it we were unsure if we even wanted to do it. I’d wanted to kiss Jon since I realized my feelings stretched beyond friendly. But I was a kid. I didn’t understand love or attraction or romance. I just thought it was what you were supposed to do when you liked someone, but Jon was the only person I’d ever liked that way.

“I heard Jeremy made out with Emily Schuler,” I told him as we sat there sipping our drinks and watching the ocean. I was thinking about kissing. I thought about it a lot. He laughed at my sudden change of topic. It was that goofy smile that I grew to love so much over the years. His hair was curly and poofy and his arms were still slick with ocean water. His shoulders were turning red, and he was still gangly and adorable. I always imagined our kids would look like he did then. Of course I wasn’t thinking about having children with him at that point in time.

“I heard,” he said. “He told me about it.” He gave me that smile where his nose wrinkled and his teeth were exposed. Back then people used to make fun of him for it. It was a nerdy smile, but it was so real and genuine and years later it was my favorite smile in the whole world.

“What did he tell you?” I asked him.

“He said it was awesome.”

“That’s not what Emily told me.”

“What did she say?” I laughed and had to put my soda back down on the wall beside me before I choked to death.

“She said it was weird and that he drooled on her face.” He grimaced. It was almost like the smile in the way his nose crinkled.

“That’s sick,” he said. I shook my head.

“Poor Jeremy.”

“He said he’s been kissing since second grade, but that’s not true. It was his first kiss.” I smiled and lifted my large heavy soda again.

“I thought so. Emily said you can tell when boys have never kissed before because they slobber all over you.”

“Great. Now I’m not looking forward to it at all.”

“You’ve never kissed anyone before?” I inquired.

I should have known the answer to that question since we spent so much time together. But he was so adorable to me that I figured someone must have felt the way I did. He got very uncomfortable then. He scratched at his burning shoulders like he was nervous. His cheeks got pink with embarrassment.

“Who would I be kissing?” he countered as he looked away from me. “The only girl I talk to that much is you.”

“Well, you could kiss me if you wanted to.” And I instantly regretted saying it.

My heart began to pound in my chest and I got just as nervous and flustered as he did just seconds before. My palms started to sweat and I had to rub them against my denim shorts in the hopes that he didn’t notice. But he still had his head turned away from me.

“I don’t like the way your lip gloss smells,” he said.

My shoulders slumped in defeat. I turned away to pick up my soda again. That was my biggest fear back then. To be rejected. I was afraid that if he did kiss me it would be bad and he would run off and tell everyone I sucked at it. Jon wasn’t like that, and I should have known that. But at twelve I was very self-conscious and the only boy I had ever liked just told me he didn’t want to kiss me.

“Well—that's a shame,” I said in an attempt to make light of the situation. “Because it tastes great.” I went back to sipping my soda and pretending to be casual about it. I wanted to smack myself in the face for speaking up.

He quickly changed the subject and suggested we went back home. So we chugged our sodas and climbed back onto our bikes. The day was so hot that you could feel it sitting heavy in your lungs. But the sky was clear and it had rained the night before. The rain had washed away all of the smog and the humidity was palpable. It was exactly like the day we buried his casket. A perfect summer day full of warmth and sunshine.

I just couldn’t stop thinking about my mistake. We talked about anything but kissing as we rode side by side, but it was still at the back of my mind. “He doesn’t want to kiss you. He doesn’t want to kiss you. He doesn’t want to kiss you.”

I told myself to put on a brave face and just forget about it. So what if he didn’t want to kiss me? So what if I liked him? It was still innocent enough. Not just love yet. I just had a small crush on the only boy who ever really wanted to be my friend.

We reached my street first so we turned and rode our bikes down to the little blue house with the bright yellow door. My mom’s front garden was in full bloom and alive with bees and butterflies. We slowed to a stop at the end of the driveway. Then I hopped off of my bike as he stayed seated with his feet planted on the sidewalk.

“I guess I’ll see you later,” I said as I held my bike at my side. It still had tassels in the handles and a shiny pink paintjob with floral decals. My mom always went a little overboard on the girly stuff, and at that moment I was horribly aware of how girly and innocent I must have looked with my glittery bike and short cut bob.

“Alright,” he said with a nod as we stood there awkwardly, no doubt still dwelling on the stupid kiss suggestion.

But then he leaned forward and smashed his lips roughly against mine. I was caught off guard, but I closed my eyes and kissed him back. It was an innocent kiss. Just our lips against each other and no saliva or slobbering.

But Emily said it wasn’t a real kiss unless you opened your mouth. So I parted my lips with my heart pounding and he did the same. I like to think it was gentle and I was good at it right off the bat. I don’t remember there being any slobber, but it was still new and strange just like I described. I was probably bad at it, but he never said otherwise.

I didn’t have the right position down immediately. I didn’t know where I was supposed to put my head. We also didn’t have the rhythm figured out just yet, but it was another one of those things that just didn’t matter years later. Even though I remember thinking it was strange and weird, it was still exciting. I remembered the taste of my strawberry lip gloss and the way my heart was beating so fast I could hear it in my ears.

I was the first to pull away though, and he stood there with pink cheeks and a dazed expression on his face. He was pale even though we lived so close to the beach, but the boy could never tan for anything. And his skin always got pink. If it was cold his cheeks turned pink. If it was hot his cheeks turned pink. If he was embarrassed. If he was happy. If he was shy. But he still had the hint of that goofy smile on his face so I figured he was happy. Or maybe I was just hoping.

“I um—I guess I’ll see you later,” I said. Then I turned and walked my bike up to the house. My steps were hurried, but I didn’t want him to know I was rushing. He stayed right where he was at the end of the driveway. He watched me lean the bike up against the side of the house. Then I gave him a quick wave before dashing up the steps to the front door.

“Hey, Sam?” he called out when I pulled the door open and cool air from the air conditioner rushed out at me. I turned around to face him again.

“Yeah?” I replied.

“You were right. I does taste good.” I blushed and snorted with a nervous giggle. Then I just nodded and hurried in through the front door.

The next Monday on Doreen Day, Jon climbed into the back of the van where we always sat. He reached out to take my hand and I laced my fingers through his. I kept my eyes on my lap but I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. He leaned over and whispered into my ear and I got a full whiff of the scent that would linger on his pillow for months after he disappeared.

“Will you go out with me?” he asked. I nodded quickly.

“Yeah,” I’d replied.

I later heard from Emily Schuler that he told Jeremy our first kiss was magical.