Share This Article
It’s 2018, I had just moved away from home for university and it’s the fresher’s week finale. At the ripe old age of 18, I was yet to have my first kiss. Determined to finally leave my teacher’s pet, no-boys-allowed persona behind, I decided that tonight would be the night to finally kiss a boy.
I marched to the on-campus club in my best dress, which, in reality, was a basic black playsuit. If you threw a stone in the club queue, you would hit at least 30 other girls wearing the exact same thing. Nevertheless, I thought I looked the shit.
Halfway through the night, and like any smart woman, I tactically made my way through the smoking area to suss out what I was working with. In what felt like a slow-motion scene in a rom-com, I felt a tap on my shoulder. A guy – and you can imagine my excitement here – looked me dead in the eyes and uttered what we all know as the ultimate uni pick up line: “Have I seen you in one of my lectures?” That was it, reaching my goal was in sight.
Fast forward to the end of the night, my new guy and I stumble out of the club, my hand clutched in his, and hang around outside of the venue with friends. My housemate and I had made a bet that if I kissed my guy, she would kiss hers. She gave me the side-eye go-ahead, and I knew what I had to do.
Thankfully the vibe was reciprocated, and the guy made the first move by taking an awkward step towards me. I blushed *Insert Debby Ryan meme here*. Accepting my fate, I closed my eyes, plunged myself directly towards his face and prayed for the best.
My lips were sealed so tight they practically formed a wall. My eyelids were competing against one another to see who could squeeze together the tightest. I felt the guy’s pointy tongue poking at my lips, trying to gain entry, but access was denied. It looked as bad as it sounds. In what felt like an eternity but actually lasted all of three seconds, I pulled away awkwardly while he stared intently into my petrified eyes. As I noticed his posture beginning to lean back in for round two, I giggled like a schoolgirl, trying to endearingly avoid repeating what had just unfolded, gave my housemate the eyes that read “help me”, and made my getaway. Not quite the storybook first kiss I was expecting. But (to my surprise) he did ask to date me the following day, so I must’ve done something right. Unfortunately, the feeling wasn’t mutual. We never made it to round two.
Enjoyed this article? You can listen to it here: