Hannah Freedman

No Damn Fireworks

The summer before my freshman year of high school was coming to an end; to me high school represented a gateway to adulthood. The idea of picking your own classes, having free periods, going to dances where you had to bring a date, all of it was so daunting. As the summer ran out I felt as if I wasn't ready for High School, I wasn't a big kid at all. I was missing the one thing represented the pinnacle of adulthood to me: a first kiss.

My family had planned to take a cruise along the eastern coast out of Philadelphia and into Canada. Although the destination was less than ideal I was still mildly exited. This cruise would be an opportunity to be an entirely different me. I would meet a cute, mysterious, boy, get my first kiss, and be prepared to enter high school. As my family and I entered the boat I realized what kind of people take cruises to Canada: old people. I tried to stay optimistic as I watched white haired men and woman trying to find their rooms.

That night I went to a meeting for the teen group. The group coordinator had planned "getting to know each other" games. She divided the group of about 15 teenagers into two teams and began calling out challenges which we had to quickly bring to a table at the center of the room. "Someone carrying someone else honeymoon style!" Michelle cried. I quickly felt myself being lifted up and carried over to the slip of paper that was acting as a baton during the simple contest. As my feet touched the ground I realized that I had just been employed in a game wining move. The boy who had lifted me up was tall, blonde, with a face doted with acne. He smiled and said, "Hi, I'm Andy."

Andy and the other kids in the group became a tight clique. We spent our days meandering through the various floors of the large ship being disruptive in a way that only teenagers can be. We laughed too loud as we sat in the crowded lobbies and splashed in the pool intended for relazation. At night we would sit on the deck and watch the sun set over the never ending expanse of water before us. As I leaned against the railing watching the water pass bellow the boat, Andy wrapped his arms around me. My body tensed. Andy had been flirting with me for the past days but I ignored it. Truth was I didn't like Andy much; the boy who had literally swept me off my feet when we first met turned out to be a loser. He came on too strong. He was always quick with an inappropriate joke. Andy in no way resembled the kind of person I had envisioned receiving my first kiss from. Still, I let his arms stay, wrapped gently around me, mostly because I was too cold to stand there by myself much longer. The only think I really liked about Andy was that he liked me.

As the week continued I ignored the fact that Andy liked me. When he slid his hand onto my butt as we walked down the hallway one day I meerley gave him a stern look. Stern enough to stop him from touching me but not stern enough to put off his attention. One afternoon as me and some of the other kids hung out on sofas in the lobby of the large boat a girl who had become my best friend within the group whispered into my ear "So, you know Andy likes you." I nodded yes trying to be inconspicuous. "Do you like him?" my face turned red. I nodded again, this time no. The girl and I both frowned.

I was flattered that Andy had a crush on me. I was never the girl that got the guy. In fifth grade a friend of mine asked the boy I had a crush on if he would marry me at a booth at a school carnival. He said no. The only thing I really liked about Andy was that he liked me.

On the last night of the cruise me and Andy found ourselves alone. I had tried to avoid this situation as best I could. I didn't know where the other kids I had spent my week hanging out with went. All I knew was that Andy was going to try and kiss me and I didn't know what to do. This was not a situation I had experience with. He put his arms around me. I know he said something. He must have said something. I should remember this. My first kiss, my first kiss is supposed to be a memorable moment. He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. I closed my eyes the way that actresses did in movies. "This is it?" I thought. I wanted fireworks, I wanted romance. I wanted my fist kiss to be with someone I actually liked.

I quickly realized that a first kiss was not all that I had hyped it up to be. It made sense to me all of a sudden why my mom barely remembered her first kiss. I was proud that I had reached this milestone in my life. I felt as if I had joined a special club: the kissed club. All the same, I was ashamed of the whole situation. I shouldn't have let Andy kiss me if I hadn't wanted him to. Adults didn't do things they didn't want to, and I wasn't more adult for being kissed. I knew that kissing had to get better than the lousy peck I had received from Andy. I was sad that for this memory, which I had fantasized for so many years, would remain tainted.

When September arrived, all too soon, I was no more the smarter, no more clever, no more mature than I had been a month before, before I had been kissed. I was not Cinderella who suddenly turned from a maid to a princess. I was just like any other freshman: awkward, nervous, and juvenile.