I pulled my brand new white dress out of my tightly packed suitcase and flattened it out across the hotel bed. I scavenged through my belongings, searching for my brand new hot pink headband with white polka dots. It matched my dress perfectly- or so I had thought at the time. My roommates and I were beyond excited for the dance that night. More than four-hundred miles away from home, in Washington, D.C., we counted down the seconds until the buses arrived to take us away. We were going to the dance. The one every one’s been waiting for. I sat quietly in the back of the bus, anxious, not knowing what to expect. Some of my friends joked near by about something my boyfriend had said earlier, but I payed no attention. I just looked out the window. Waiting. Once we arrived, one of the teachers snapped some pictures and lead us in the right direction- to the dining hall. Dinner was long. Too long. He sat at the table across the room. I could feel him there, but he was no where to be seen. The food was disgusting. I lost my appetite as soon as I saw my plate of what I thought I had ordered to be chicken.

My friends and I posed for many more pictures, talked about how excited we were, and laughed along with the bar tender as complimented our dresses. I just wanted dinner to be over. I wanted to dance. The beautiful bay windows behind me looked out across the water. I swear the sunset was a million shades of orange and pink. I looked around for him. Still nowhere in sight. The teachers scrambled us up, told us to push in our chairs as neatly as possible, and lead us into a separate, yet attached, room where the DJ stated the music. At first, everyone was just standing around, waiting, until they all gradually clumped into the center of the dance floor. I had no idea what to do. Looking around, I caught his eye. He smiled sweetly. I walked over to him- my friends still close by, and began to dance. After a few moments I realized that he was barely moving at all. I was dancing by myself. I look up and he was busy talking with some of his friends. I was very offended. I made up some excuse to leave the room, and walked over to my friends. When he got anxious, asking questions about why I didn’t want to dance, I told him I just felt uncomfortable and I wasn’t a fan of dancing anyways. This was a total lie.

I was so embarrassed. I tried my best to avoid him as much as I possibly could that night, but he just kept showing up. Every time a slow song came on, I would peek around the corner from the room with all the comfy couches and see him looking around vigorously. Scanning the crowd. He could not find me anywhere.

Meanwhile, I went to ladies room to take a look in the mirror and make sure my make-up hadn’t smudged, as if I wasn’t embarrassed enough already. The bathroom was full of girls trying to fix their dresses, re-do their hair, and wash their faces of sweat from all the dancing. I remember just standing there. Looking around. Looking at how beautiful everyone looked. All dressed up. I looked in the mirror. The flower in the center of my dress had fallen off, my hair had come un-done, and my shoes were squishing my feet so tight you could see blisters the size of meatballs. I felt disgusting. I rushed into the bathroom stall and locked the door behind me before anyone had the chance to see what a wreck I was. I quickly tried to repair my hair with no mirror in sight. Too many bobby-pins to count. I kept dropping them. All over the floor. I was a mess. I wanted so badly to look beautiful for him.

Finally, I slipped out of my shoes and put my hot pink polka dotted headband back in my hair. Once I was sure everyone had left the bathroom, I unlocked the stall and stepped out, immediately looking to the mirror. When I was finally pleased, I walked out of the ladies room and back onto the dance floor. I heard the DJ calling a “shout out” to my name. One of my friends thought it would be funny to draw attention to my already horrible night. Mortified, I ducked down behind one of peers and slowly made it to the other side of the room.

A slow song came on, but before I could get out of my hiding spot, I felt a hand grab the top of my arm. “There you are.”

He pulled me close to him, but I immediately bounced back. We danced for a while. As the song began to end, he took my hands in his. He leaned in really close. He kissed me. Although it probably only lasted seconds, it felt like a century had passed before I opened my eyes and saw his big blue eyes shining back at me. I was in shock. I had no idea what to do or say. I just stood there. Frozen like a statue in the snow. Then I ran. I ran away from him as fast as I could. I stopped at the first person I knew. I had to tell someone. It was my first kiss!

I immediately ran back to the bathroom. I was so excited to tell everyone what had just happened, but as soon as I walked through the door, I saw a girl sobbing. She looked mortified. One of the guys had upset her while she was dancing. I did not want to be self centered but the words just blurted out of my mouth, “WE KISSED!” Everyone looked at me like they did not care whatsoever and went back to the crying girl. I got over the fact that no one cared as much as I did about an amazing first kiss so I gave up and tended to my friend. Once I found out what happened I immediately went up to the boy who had made her this upset and screamed and yell at him. I’m pretty sure I smacked him a couple times as well. I told him to stay away from my friend and that he had completely ruined my entire night, “I hope you’re happy”.

After all the drama had subsided. I decided to get up the courage to find him once more. The dance was almost over and everyone began to leave for their buses. I caught his eye and he came over to me to say goodnight. He went in for another kissed, but he missed my lips by a long-shot. He ended up kissing me somewhere to the right of my nose. I laughed. He was so embarrassed that he just completely walked away.

The rest of the field trip we did not hear the end of it. Our kiss was the only thing anyone was talking about. At first I was embarrassed, but after a while I learned to like the attention. At the end of eighth grade I dumped him and he cried the whole summer before high school. We did not date for a long while, but now we are back together again and happier than ever. I will never forget my first kiss. I’m lucky it was with someone who will never forget either.