by Diana Raab

As a memoir writer, I do a great deal of reminiscing both on the page and in conversations with friends and family. Last year I entered my seventh decade and realized that I’ve created enough memories for a number of lifetimes. At this point in my history and the history of the universe, I am choosing to look at the memories that put me in the light. I’ve been reviewing all my happy and memorable moments and could not help but to reflect on my very first kiss, which happened when I was in sixth grade.

My first kiss was in the basement of my childhood home. I was twelve years old, and my parents were out for the evening, so I had invited ten other kids over to hang out. It was a coed group, and we made our way to my new stereo system with two speakers, which was hooked up in the basement. It wasn’t long before the idea came up to play spin the bottle. We had all played this game before. We began to sit on the floor in a circle. It was halfway through the school year, and I already had a crush on the cutest boy in my class. His name was Eric. He had curly blond hair, dimples, and the bluest eyes I had ever seen. Even though he lived around the corner, inviting him over seemed to be the best way to get within inches of him. Although we both could walk to school, his parents always dropped him off early because they were both lawyers and had to get to the office early.

With a certain amount of trepidation, I spun the bottle. It was the 1960s and a unique time in history. Our class was heavily influenced by the music of the time. We shared in the excitement of the Beatles appearing on The Ed Sullivan Show (1964), the songs of Jimi Hendrix, The Beach Boys, and The Rolling Stones. In fact, it was the song “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” that played when the bottle spun.

We sat in a circle, cross-legged, on the linoleum floor, and placed an empty glass Coke bottle in the middle. All of us, especially the girls, spent the first fifteen minutes giggling because, while we were excited to play the game, some of us approached the game with terror. What would happen if we had to kiss the ugliest guy? What if he gave us a wet kiss? Did we keep our eyes open or closed during the kiss? What would we do if a boy’s hands wandered down to unbutton our blouse? So many questions stirred around in my mind. These questions are no longer relevant today because, as far as I know, the game is still played today, but not with a focus on kissing. The focus is more on “truth” or “dare.”

I giggled as my eyes moved from one boy to the next. I teased them with my green eyes. Already inspired by the scenes created by Jackie Collins and reading her books under my covers at night, I was starting to understand some of the basics of seduction.

I was one of the more popular and gregarious girls in our class and had been told that I could probably get any guy I wanted, but the one I wanted played hard to get. My eyes made their way around the circle twice and then finally stopped at Eric’s. When our eyes linked, he tossed me a broad smile, displaying his deep bilateral dimples and the shiny silver braces that covered his teeth. I smiled back, my braced smile meeting his. We already knew how to flirt and tease to communicate our mutual interest. I had once read the best way to capture a woman’s interest is to make them feel you love them without really showing it. Eric seemed to do this naturally.

As luck would have it, the bottle slowed down and stopped spinning as it pointed to Eric. I wiggled in my spot as my long sandal strap got caught in the hem of my orange pedal pushers. I gently sat up on my knees to release it and then slowly crawled in Eric’s direction. I felt everyone’s eyes on me. I felt like I was moving in slow motion. With his eyes still fixed on mine, Eric scooted backwards out of the circle, acting like he was making room for me. I raised my pointer finger and motioned him toward me. He stopped and waited for my approach.

I continued moving toward him, closed my eyes, and placed my lips on his but realized that, instead of our lips touching, our braces did. Not only did they touch, but they also got linked together. While moving my jaw and chin to try to dislodge our braces from one another, we both felt impending danger. I saw that in his eyes, and my heart began to beat faster. There was silence in the room as the fear escalated. While moving our faces in opposite directions, we were unable to free ourselves. My mind raced at the worst-case scenario, and particularly what I would say to my parents. I had promised to have just one friend over while they were gone and here we were, a circle of friends playing spin the bottle. To no avail, Eric and I continued our attempts to remedy the situation, but it only seemed to be getting more desperate. I imagined us walking up the basement stairs, out the door and down the street to knock on the orthodontist’s door. My heart beat faster and faster.

Soon after, all our friends gathered around us, and they began to laugh nervously. They gently nudged our shoulders to release our mouths from one another’s, causing us to have mouth sores and discomfort. Essentially, the insides of our mouths were ripped to shreds, and we talked about how we would explain our new look to our parents. We laughed for about ten minutes and then glanced at the wall clock, which reminded us that my parents would be home momentarily. I sent everyone else home and Eric stayed with me in the basement. He took my hand, led me to the vinyl sofa in the corner, threw me down, and began kissing me. We quickly figured out how to kiss with braces.

Still in a daze, I heard my parents at the back door putting the key in the lock, signaling it was time for Eric to leave. Before I could tell him what to do, he leaped out of the basement window and onto the driveway. The events of that night were a hot topic around school for weeks and years to come.

Fast-forward to a number of years ago, when we celebrated our fortieth class reunion. Those of us who were there recounted the events of that night. The laughter ensued and we realized that no matter what stage of life we are in, the power of humor sustains us. In fact, as we grow older what really matters are kisses, love, and the memories that offer perspective and relief from the challenges of growing old.