Promises

by Reitoa

I was nine and he was 13 when we made the promise to each other. He was so smart, so clever, so bright. But then, I loved him so my opinion was severely biased.

His blue eyes looked into my brown and made me melt. I was only nine but felt so incredibly grown up. He made me promise that when he turned sixteen, I would be the one to give him his first kiss. In return, he promised to give me mine at sixteen.

Agreeing readily it took me a minute to realise the fault in it. 'hang on,it wont be my first kiss, cos we would have already kissed'. He smiled at me easily. 'Your giving me my first kiss. Not getting.' I quickly understood and smiled warmly in return.

This was our promise.

The day of his sixteenth birthday was somewhat intense. I knew what was to come, that I would need to come through with his very first kiss. I desperately wanted to do this right first time.

My day had been wretched. I couldn't concentrate on a thing but our promise. Finally, school ended and I walked myself slowly to our meeting place, in the large paddock by the local high school he was now attending. The grass was incredibly high, but in the center stood a large oak tree. None but us knew of it and we had met there daily to since I was nine to hang out and enjoy our youth.

But today.. today would be the day I would no longer be just a childhood friend. Today, I would give him his first kiss.

I arrived first at the oak. I was glad of it because my heart was racing. I wanted to calm myself a little and work on lowering my racing heart beat. It slowed some until he stepped through the long reeds and stood but three feet from me.

'hey' I said timidly. I was shaking, nervous and about to wet my pants. He smiled at me in his easy way. 'hey' he said back. He came to me quickly taking my hand and led me to the largest root, sitting me down. He talked quietly of his day, how Toby, the new guy had mistakenly walked into the girls changing room after PE and had the girls up in an uproar. How Max, his best friend kept droning on about his newest 'love' - Marj Thompson. All the while he kept holding my hand. Were it not for that, I would have completely calmed down and warmed to the stories. But he'd never held my hand like this before, so my focus on it was intense.

'Mike' I squeaked. He stopped talking, I looked into his eyes preparing to say something clever or grandiose. 'Happy Birthday' I finally managed. His smile spread over his face, into his eyes. The warmth that radiated from there relaxed me. I didn't focus on his hand holding mine, just his smile.

Softly I pulled my hand from his and reached out to touch his face. It was surprisingly warm. His youthful cheek felt soft under the back of my fingers. He seemed not to be breathing and our eyes met. I stared into his dark blue eyes for what seemed like hours. We both still smiling ridiculously at each other.

His body naturally lent towards me as he slowly tilted his head closer. I withdrew slightly. He stopped. His unspoken question clear in his eyes. 'I'm going to do this right' I answered. 'I kiss you remember' His grin returned as he straightened up, waiting.

Satisfied that I was 'in charge', timidness yet again took me. I blushed and looked away briefly before telling myself off and focusing once again on his beautiful blue eyes.

Slowly I lent forward, inching closer little by little. Michael watched me get closer and closer until I was almost touching. I could feel his breath on my face. It was getting harder for him to breathe, my proximity being the reason for it.

Finally our lips met. His were soft and unmoving. Mine, well all I could hope was that mine weren't chapped. I'd closed my eyes and pressed just a little more as I kissed him. Our mouths closed in youthful innocence. My arms went about his neck as his snaked around my waist. We kissed long, our young bodies pressing against each other like our lips.

In preparation for this day I'd watched as many romantic movies as I could, paying careful attention to how the leading couple kissed. In my mind I visualized myself as the leading lady and Michael the leading man. I did my level best to emulate them.

Our mouths remain closed and somehow, I knew this to be wrong. This was not the passion I thought it should be. What was I doing wrong? And somehow, I knew. As I kissed him my mouth parted slightly and we could taste each other.

His response was instantaneous. Passion raged as our kiss suddenly deepened into something much more. No more was innocence, here in its place was hormonal drive.

I could feel his pressing need against me, it both excited and frightened me. He no longer thought, he acted, pushing against me as my body responded in kind.

Neither of us thought, we just felt and did what our aroused bodies commanded. What was meant to be his first kiss became the first time we made love.

I was twelve and he sixteen. It was meant to be innocent but became so much more.

So many years later I never spoke of my first time. I kept that memory to myself. I didn't want to share it with anyone. I told myself that I didn't want people finding out I'd lost my virginity at such a young age, what would they think? But truthfully, I just didn't want to share that memory with anyone. It was special to me and Michael. Only we two knew of it and I wanted to keep him to myself. Especially since only a year later, Michaels life was ended by a drunk driver one summer afternoon. But I have kept our first time secret too long.

Michael once told me, life was about remembering the moments that made you smile. The moments that made you laugh, the moments that encouraged you and gave you hope. He'd told me that life was about celebrating those special moments by sharing them as I share it now with you now. Our moments of first love, our first kiss that lead our first moment of passion, the first of many more in that year.

Remember and celebrate your moments. They are precious and beautiful things for they are the things that give life meaning.

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