Page 2 of The Kiss List

“Okay?"

"I mean, I should make sure that I get to experience that, right? Every girl deserves to experience that kind of first kiss."

She takes a sip of her soda. "What happens if you don't?"

“Duh! Then I’ll be a seventeen-year-old girl who’s never been kissed.”

“And that’s a big deal?” I can tell she’s trying hard not to laugh.

Why isn't she taking this seriously?

I glare at her. “Yes, it is. That’s like being an old maid in teenage years.”

“No, it’s not.” She finally lets out the laugh she was holding. “Who told you that nonsense?”

I fiddle with my short braids, suddenly feeling silly. “No one."

"Seriously. Who told you?"

"Fine. I heard it from a couple of seniors in the girls’ bathroom this morning. They were talking about inexperienced girls.”

They were so serious about it too, saying it was important for girls our age to explore stuff and experience things. I never even thought that a teenage old maid had ever existed, but what did I really know?

I'm not sure I wholly agree with them, but they got me thinking with that comment.

“Well, clearly, they don’t know what they’re talking about because it’s not true. There’s no such thing as a teenage old maid. Besides, that term is sexist. We’re not living in the fifties.”

“I know. I know. It’s just that I’m suddenly feeling pressured about it.”

“I really don’t know what’s the big deal, Maise. So you’ve never been kissed, but who cares? It’s not the end of the world.”

“Easy for you to say—you had your first kiss when we were like thirteen.”

“Fourteen,” she corrects me. “And it was just okay. There was nothing special about it. My foot didn't even pop or whatever. So you’re not really missing out on anything.”

“Please.”I roll my eyes. “We spent hours on the phone after Ken Adams kissed you. You were so over the moon you couldn't stop talking. So it was more than okay. I think the exact word you used was ‘perfect.’”

“I was fourteen. I didn’t know any better then.”

"Yeah, right. You dated him for like three months."

"Like I said—"

"Nope. Not buying it," I interrupt, popping more chips into my mouth.

"Fine. Believe whatever you want."

I pout. "It's not just that. Look at Angela Cornwell—she makes out with a different guy like every month. How does she do that?"

"So you want to be like her?"

"Heck, no. That sounds exhausting. I just need one kiss. That's it."

Well, one foot-popping kiss.

I only get one first kiss. So I have to make sure that it's perfect.

Maybe I should make a list when I get home? Like a list of boys that I think are good kissers? I have no idea how I can get even one of them to kiss me, but there's no harm in trying.

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