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You decide your first kiss doesn't count. Then you decide your second doesn't either. Then your third. Then your fourth. And even your fifth. Then you start to notice a pattern.
You are the leaves at my feet.
You are the hum of electric heat.
I kept myself away,
But I'm starting to like the pain.- hum by tigers jaw
1.
As a ninth grader, spin the bottle feels more like an obligation than a fun game to you. It's more like a right of passage that everyone's teenage self has to go through just for the sake of doing it; one of those things that you look back at as a parent of three and say to your eldest teenage child, “You know, when I was your age...”
It's like those type of things.
At least that's what you get from all those books you read and those TV shows you watch.
So Marielle beckons you to come closer inside the circle and you don't really have much of a choice so you do, wedging between her and a boy wearing a blue beanie that covers his dark curly hair.
You think he's cute and he smiles at you so you smile back.
The game kicks off, and everyone, all young and mostly inexperienced like you, cast obvious glances at each other, the thought of them kissing multiple people making them restless and jittery.
It becomes the boy beside you's turn to spin and it lands on you. Your stomach does a flip and you're not sure if it's the anxiety of potentially making a fool of yourself that gets your heart squeezing and your brain racing, or if it's because he's considerably attractive and you're going to be kissing him.
You don't have enough time to think about it because he reaches over to you and leans all of the way in. His lips are slightly chapped against yours and it's more of a press than an actual kiss. Then he pulls away, the sound echoing in your ears, and you notice he has brown eyes like yours.
He smiles at you again and you smile at him again.
You get asked if you want to spin again, but you can feel him staring at you with that smile on his face and you're too busy wondering why you don't feel anything to give a verbal answer, so you shake your head and sit back in your spot.
They continue the game and the boy who is once again beside you covers his hand over yours at one point. You do nothing to make him stop, but you don't acknowledge it either. Marielle notices this and coos beside you, and you at least have the decency to blush.
(You don't count this as your first kiss.)
2.
You're pretty sure Lauren wants to kiss you.
You notice how she always stares at you, notice how the flicker of her eyes, the bite of her lip when she talks to you.
You do nothing about it.
She has the same exact look in her eyes tonight when you kick off your first tour. You still don't know how to feel about it, but you and the girls are joking and laughing in the front lounge and Lauren says something particularly funny so of course you have to kiss her cheek. Your kiss lands on the corner of her mouth and you can feel the hitch in her breath. You don't look at her.
Dinah spills some nacho cheese on the table of their new bus and everyone shouts a simultaneous, “Dinah!” as they rush to get some paper towels. Lauren gets some cheese on her hands and she moves to wash them off in the bathroom.
It's hardly a conscious decision, but you decide to get up after her, no one else noticing because of all the commotion.
She's in the middle of wiping her hands dry when you walk into the bathroom, closing the door with a soft click.
She barely has time to get a sound out before you kiss her, pinning her against the wall because it's not a hard feat considering the bathroom is only a little more than three feet in width.
She tastes like nachos and you don't care because you probably taste like them too. There's a hint of something invisible yet untoward on the tip of your tongue, but you don't bother finding out what it means.
But Lauren is the one who pulls way and you can sense the statement in the draw of her brow and the set of her jaw before you actually hear it.
I don't like girls. “I don't like girls.”
You've already steeled your nerves against it, but it still stings, a needle threatening to dig its way through your ribs to make its fatal mark.
You don't let it happen. “Okay.”
You walk out of the bathroom and into the lounge faster than you think you're walking, but everyone is still yelling at Dinah and you find acting fairly easy.
(You don't count this as your first kiss.)
(Five months later you find Lauren kissing a girl that isn't you, and you realize the needle was poison-tipped and already making its way into your bloodstream.)
3.
Austin Mahone was crowned the Cutest Heartthrob by some generic pre-teen tabloid magazine with the front page of an obscure Disney star on it, and you're pretty sure that it should be, like, an honor or something that you and him are talking, or whatever you're doing with him is called.
He invites you into his tour bus and you straighten out the white skirt that the girls helped you pick out because Dinah insists that, “It's so totally a date,” so you just went along with the entire thing, letting Normani and Dinah and Ally help you pick your outfit and fight over who gets to do your makeup.
Austin wastes no time once you reach the back lounge, closing the door behind him and hovering above you with a smirk. You back up, but not enough that he doesn't stop moving forward.
“Is this okay?” He asks you, hands on your hips, the tone of his voice suggesting confidence and bravado more than genuine consideration.
You tilt your chin into what he takes for a nod, so he leans in and kisses you. He smells like too much cologne and teenage boy; a combination that makes your eyes tear up and scrunch your nose, but you resist. He uses too much force and he kisses too hard, using teeth and tongue, clumsy and just too much for you.
He's just too much, and you decide that's the reason you feel nothing.
(You don't count this as your first kiss.)
4.
You know four, maybe five, chords on your guitar, but you still think it's an accomplishment considering you're, well, you. You absentmindedly pluck at the D string of the borrowed instrument, exhaling boredly through your mouth.
You're in the middle of humming and pretending to strum along to the chords of a song that you don't know when Jacob enters with a creak of the dressing room door.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” you say back. “What brings you here?”
“Oh, I'm just checking to see if you're putting that guitar to good use or if you're just slacking off,” he says with a grin.
“Well, I'd hardly call it putting it to good use if I only know four chords courtesy of YouTube,” you joke, strumming on the open strings with your thumb.
Jacob takes a seat beside you on the black couch and he says, “Okay, show me what you got so far.”
“Okay, well, this is a D, right?” You put your fingers on what you suspect are the correct strings and frets and you strum, looking up at him for approval.
He nods. “Yep, now, show me an A.”
You play the A chord and he nods once again.
“Okay, what about a G?” You notice he's moved closer to you, but you don't say anything about it.
“Uh...” You bite your lip in concentration as you try to recall the placement of your fingers.
He's moved even closer now, his thigh against yours, but you still don't say anything about it.
“Here, let me show you.” He moves his left arm around your narrow shoulders to touch the back of your hand, the one against the guitar neck, and his right arm moves around in front of you to gently guide your fingers to the right place.
His chest is flush against your shoulder and you can feel his breath against your cheek as you consider which way you want to turn your head: left or right.
You decide to turn to the right, and Jacob does the rest of the work.
He kisses you slow and tentative and he tastes like spearmint gum. He smiles into the kiss and you can't help but smile too; you're aware that you both are probably smiling for different reasons.
You know that Jacob smiles because he's kissing you, smiles because the guitar is still on your lap and you can't fully turn to face him, smiles because he thinks it's perfect, you and his slightly uncomfortable position only adding to the unique element of what he thinks is an unforgettable kiss.
You smile because you were right. You smile because your heart isn't beating any extra beats and your chest isn't squeezing within itself. You smile because this was your predicted outcome, because the poison hasn't settled in any further.
(You don't count this as your first kiss.)
5.
Dinah thinks you have a crush. So do Normani and Ally. Lauren said she couldn't care less in her own Lauren-y way that doesn't really sound rude because you know how she's like. You don't notice anything off.
You and Shawn have struck a deal with each other: you teach him Spanish while he teaches you guitar. You both have worked out a schedule to where you teach him and he teaches you every off day, so you're both speaking Spanish one day, and playing guitar the next.
He comes by to your bus to pick up where you left off on Tuesday, when you taught him how to pronounce food correctly because you believe that you have to start with the most important subjects first.
The girls greet him as he steps inside and you ask where Lauren is, just in case she'd like to help with tutoring him, but they tell you she's nowhere around. Come to think of it, you realize she's always missing whenever Shawn's here.
You shrug, leading him inside the back lounge and shutting the door at Dinah's not-so-subtle “get it”s with an awkward laugh. You pretend not to notice the pink coloring his cheeks.
You in fact don't even get through the first five words of your lesson because Shawn cracked a joke so funny that it made you laugh so hard that you doubled over, one hand clutching your sides and the other one on his shoulder. You can't even remember it anymore, or how funny the joke actually was, but you know that it was hilarious and you can't stop what you've started.
You're barely aware of when you nuzzled your head against the crook of his neck, but it's there and when you pull away with happy tears in your eyes, you see him looking at you with a familiar look in his and an open-mouthed grin on his face.
He kisses you and it doesn't catch you off guard even though you were still calming down from all your laughing. You think his lips feel nice and you can taste the laughter on them. Not his laughter but yours, anyways.
You still feel nothing except for the vacuous space in your chest that your fit of laughter made room for with nothing to take its place.
(You don't count this as your first kiss.)
6.
A game changer: Shawn is sick and he can't make it to your lesson.
So you find yourself with nothing to do for the first time in weeks.
The thing is that you want—need—something to do because you know it leaves you less time for thinking; less time for thinking about things and people and stuff and the real reason you and Shawn haven't kissed since that one time.
A game changer: Lauren is at the tour bus when she usually isn't at this time of day. You notice it.
“Hey, Lo,” you greet as you sit down beside her on the same couch Shawn kissed you at. “How come you're never usually here around this time?” You make it sound innocuous, like the question isn't loaded.
All she does is shrug, saying, “Dunno, I don't really keep a schedule.” She doesn't meet your eyes. You notice it.
You weigh the possibilities of pressing on and leaving it alone.
A game changer: You don't leave it alone.
“I don't like Shawn.” It comes out of your mouth before your brain has the chance to process it.
Lauren tilts her head and furrows her brow like she doesn't know how it's even remotely related to her even though she does. A hum of acknowledgment comes out of her mouth, but you find yourself wanting more, wanting a bigger reaction.
A game changer: you lean in first and she meets you halfway, eyes fluttering close.
Lauren's lips are soft and she smells like vanilla and tastes like strawberries and what you've figured out is an underlying bitterness of how impossible this situation is.
A game changer: you like it.
You unwillingly pull away and look up. Her eyes are so green and you think it's a pleasant change from all the brown you've been seeing.
A game changer: you want this to count as your first kiss, but you're aware of the repercussions that inevitably come with it.
The poison picks up where it left off those few years ago. It reaches your heart in a matter of seconds.
(You don't count this as your first kiss.)