##The First Kiss

Brenda stomps across the turf with her trumpet. She’s one of many horns in the field, but she knows someone in the crowd is looking at her. Their performance is mediocre. A few students are lazy and barely making noise, and a few are aggressively declaring their space in the spotlight. The band director is shaking his head at the mess while the audience spaces out.

After halftime, Brenda runs to the bandroom to get into her normal clothes and drop off her instrument. A few people try to speak to her, but she brushes past them. Jeremy is waiting for her in the parking lot by his car wearing a thin coat and a . He opens the passenger door for her.

“So where would you like to go?” Jeremy asks.

“Let me think.” Brenda puts her finger to chin and ‘hmms’ loudly. “We should go to Hawaii. I want to experience the tropical island paradise.”

“The movie theater doesn’t pay me well enough for a plane ticket.”

“That’s a shame. I can’t be with a man who can’t enjoy the finer things in life,” Brenda giggles, “But I don’t know. Why don’t you decide. You’re the one with the driver’s license.”

“Alright, let’s go mini golfing,” Jeremy says.

“Wow, the theater really isn’t paying you well.”

“Life could be so easy if every teenager got a six figure salary at their first job.” Jeremy drives to Henry’s Bowling and Golf.

The clerk is bored and more focused on his phone. He hands Brenda the child sized club three times before grabbing the right one. Brenda takes the purple golf ball while Jermey chooses the red one. They proceed through the course bantering. Jeremy’s skill level is quite dreadful; he manages to reach the five point cap on every hole. Brenda scores two above par.

“That was awful.” Jeremy says as they leave.

“It was. You now have to wear the hat of shame.” She grabs a novelty hat from the gift shop and puts it on his head.

“You grab it. You buy it,” the clerk says. Brenda puts five dollars on the table. “Thank you.”

The two walk back to Jeremy’s car. Brenda looks at her watch and sees she has to be home in thirty minutes. Too soon to do anything, but too far to make the night feel worthwhile. Jeremy drives to her subdivision and stops under a streetlight.

“What’s going on?” Brenda asks.

“How often do you think about your future?” Jeremy replies.

“Unfortunately all the time with exams coming up. I try to focus on the immediate future. Like how I’ll probably be sitting on my desk because Mrs. Grant is weird,” she says.

“I think about my future a lot and your role in it.” He looks at her, and the streetlight illuminates his green eyes.

“Oh.” Brenda stutters. “I’ve thought about you a lot, but I don’t know if that’s just the standard for teenage romances.”

“I wouldn’t know. Never had one before.”

“Neither have I,” Brenda replies. Jeremy leans towards her.

“I think I know what I’m supposed to do during this part,” he says. Brenda moves towards him as well. Their lips meet over the gear shift, and the kiss is quite awkward. Jeremy wraps his hands around Brenda, but he accidentally pulls at her hair. Brenda bites her tongue and interrupts the kiss. Neither have figured out how to breathe while kissing and end up blowing on each other’s cheeks. When the kiss ends, they pull away and smile at each other.

“Thank you. I hope I get better at kissing,” Jeremy says.

“We both will. It just takes more practice. The first time is always a bit weird,” Brenda shrugs, “At least, that’s what my sister told me.”

“You asked your sister about this.” Jeremy starts the car and drives closer to Brenda’s address.

“Of course, I lied earlier. I have been thinking about us a lot and had to check with her to make sure it was normal,” she says.

“That’s good. I’ve asked my older brother for advice too.” He stops in front of her house. The porch light is already on. “See you tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Brenda opens her door but stays in the car. “Can I have my first kiss good night?”

“Absolutely.” They kiss one more time. Brenda walks away from his car practically skipping, and Jeremy drives away with a smile on his face.

r/AstroRideWrites