A Hay Bale First Kiss
Let's rewind to the early 2000s when low-rise jeans were all the rave, caked-on make-up was the norm, and Brat Summer was all year round! It was 2005 and I was in my final year of high school. For context, you know how every Hallmark movie takes the big-city gal back to her small town? Well, those kinds of small towns are exactly where I grew up. I had known most of my graduating class (only 50 students) my whole life and even though I wasn’t close with everyone, we all knew the gossip of each other’s lives.
I was a shy teenager. If a guy looked at me or even spoke to me, my face would turn multiple shades of red. I would even struggle to talk. Don’t get me wrong, I had guy friends but, honestly, it was easier to friend-zone every guy I was close to. It was safer. It meant there was no room for me to be rejected. Besides, a guy in my graduating class once told me, “You are obviously the ugly duckling in your family.” Compared to my beautiful older sister and charismatic younger sister, I couldn’t disagree.
“Self-confidence wasn’t my strong suit and when someone affirms your insecurities, it cuts deep and clings to your soul. I was also a devoted Christian, which meant I wasn’t going to parties or really doing anything that normal teenagers were doing.
I didn’t feel like I fit anywhere or with anyone, so I just did my own thing.”
Bringing it to the present day for two seconds, I sometimes feel like I missed out on the teenage life growing up in a conservative home and mindset. I feared being rejected by God and the Church so much that I never allowed myself to be a kid. I focused all my energy on never making a mistake—perfecting perfectionism and being a chameleon. Somedays, I wish I had just allowed myself to relax and be a kid—to mess up, explore, and do stupid things. To grow from those experiences.
But that’s neither here nor there because we can’t change the past. We can only move forward.
Time to get back to the story…
Even with all of this distance I had put between me and the guys while growing up, I still had crushes. Obviously! Sometimes multiple crushes at the same time.
“But there was one particular boy who I liked. I can’t really remember what it was about him, but I do remember him being my first kiss. Though, I’m not sure you could call it a kiss!
Let me explain…”
It was Safe Grad! For those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s a time when the graduating class chooses a random and secluded place to get drunk and celebrate graduating. The word “safe” comes from the parental guidance. If I remember the rules correctly, your parents had to be present if you wanted to drink and you were underage (I think). In my small town, I don’t know who partied more—the teenagers or their parents? So, most parents were present and most people (except me) were drinking!
Our Safe Grad was hosted on a farm outside the town, and we used the barn as a bar and dance floor, while there was a campfire outside with hay bales. I still giggle thinking about this scene! I’m sober as can be and everyone around me is drunk, relying on me to watch their drinks. All I remember was having fun, dancing with my friends, and just enjoying life as a kid (for once) before adulting took over.
As the sun started to rise and the drunken escapades of the night were wearing off for everyone else, I sat on a hay bale with my crush eating the doughnuts that were just brought out.
“I don’t remember how long we were sitting there or even if we were talking to each other, but then suddenly, out of nowhere, I’m being dipped over the hay bale.”
My legs are up in the air and my crush’s hand is holding my head as he squishes a doughnut between my lips and his. After what felt like forever, he flipped me back up and continued eating what was left of the doughnut while I sat stunned at what just happened.
There was sugar all over my face, and as I wiped it away, a classmate sitting on the other side of the campfire said, “Well, you just ruined lady and the tramp for me.” I don’t remember much of what happened after that, but my crush disappeared for the rest of Safe Grad and my dad arrived to pick me up not long after the sun had fully risen.
As luck would have it, my crush didn’t remember this moment (or he chose never to discuss it) and we continued on with our lives in the same roles we always played—me as the shy, avoidant friend and him as the unknowingly crushed-on friend.
To this day, I can’t eat a doughnut without thinking of my ridiculous first kiss.
“And, by the way, my real first kiss was one for the books. Hand on neck, slow anticipation, passionate, and long-awaited. But that’s a story for a different day!”
Editor’s Note: It’s been 19 years since I crushed on that boy, and I never told him. The likelihood of him reading this is very small, but on the off chance he happens to get this far and is curious if I’m talking about him, then to clear the air… yes, bus buddy, it was you!
