I sat alone, glancing furtively to the left, willing him to make the first move. I was shy; I always had been. He stood up and flicked his eyes in my direction. I quickly looked away but it had happened – our eyes had met for a split second.
He stood up and attempted to casually kick a stone away. He missed. He shoved his hands into his coat pocket and whirled around on his heel. He walked up to me, leaned over and pecked me on the cheek.
I felt that patch of skin burn and tingle. My face flushed and I coyly looked at the ground. I mustered up all my courage, rose from my seat, walked over to him, tiptoed up and gently brushed the corner of his mouth with my lips. I rushed back to my original seat.
My sister jumped off the adjoining swing and shouted, “YOU KISSED ANTONY SHIELDS! I’M GOING TO TELL MUM!” She jumped on her bike and peddled as quickly as her chubby little legs would carry her.
I focused on Antony’s face, feeling slightly sick and mumbled something about awful six-year old sisters, shrugged slightly and said, “See you at school tomorrow? Please don’t tell anyone?”
He stood there and said nothing in return. He just stared at me. I picked up my scooter and followed in the direction of my sister. I glanced over my shoulder just once and he was still stood there, watching me.
I caught up with my sister and, using the advanced knowledge that only a 10-year old older sister has, threatened to smash up her beloved her Sindy doll up and tear up her Twinkle comic if she didn’t keep her mouth shut.
To be fair, neither of them have mentioned it again. Ever! I have though – it formed part of my speech at my sister’s wedding. And mum never knew until then.
This post was written for a Valentines Carnival being held by Claire (@lolas_mum) over at "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly". I submit this to the "bad" category because I never expected my first kiss to be quite like that.