Chapter 9
Everyone always thought Theo and I were dating, including me.
By the middle of high school, I had never kissed a boy, harboring grandiose ideas about setting and romance and perfection, and in the end, I got all three.
Theo was my first kiss. It was tenth grade, the spring musical, another terrible production (Oklahoma!) that the local choral society had put on the year before, so our school got all their sets and costumes for free.
As if any community needs two productions of Oklahoma!
in a lifetime, let alone back-to-back. Theo and I were Curly and Laurey.
It was the first kiss for both of us, which made sense for awkward, misanthropic me, but zero sense for the charming and gorgeous Theo, who was beloved by all in our school, even though theater kids weren’t supposed to be cool.
Once in the bathroom, I heard some older girls on the soccer team arguing about which one of them should take his virginity. “If he even is one still.”
“Oh, he is. You just know he is.”
For months we jokingly avoided the kissing parts, doing mocking high fives and exaggerated hugs every time the moment arose. I wanted to. Of course I did, but this was a good fifteen years before I knew I was allowed to initiate my own love life.
Finally, it was tech week and we hadn’t kissed. Mr. T pulled us both aside during lunchtime rehearsal break.
“Kids, you need to figure out this kiss thing. I don’t care if you do it or not, but you need to decide and then do the scene the way you’re going to do it. It’s called practice—”
I interrupted him. “It’s actually called rehears—”
He cut me off. “Figure it out.” He left us alone backstage.
“So awkward,” I muttered.
“Totally,” Theo said. We both stood there, silent.
The thing was, we were great together. We rehearsed on non-rehearsal days at my house.
We sparred with terrific energy—the chemistry was there.
I don’t think we knew what chemistry even was, but we knew we were good, and that we were especially good together.
There was just this one detail that we had been avoiding.
“So, um, I guess . . .” I stared at my shoes.
“Yeah.”
“Um.”
“Yeah.”
Nothing was happening.
“I’ve never kissed anyone,” I blurted out.
He looked genuinely surprised. “Really? I mean, me neither . . .”
“Wait, really?” This felt unbelievable to me.
“Yeah.” He looked embarrassed.
“We don’t have to,” I started. “Mr. T said . . .”
“But, yeah, I mean, for the integrity of the scene . . .” He looked at his feet.
“I . . . like . . . do you . . . like, do you not want to kiss me?”
“No! Yes! I mean, I do!” he said. He laughed nervously, then got quiet. “I just . . . I know this sounds dumb, but, like, it’s both of our first kiss. I don’t want to . . . Shouldn’t it be . . . nice? Like, special?”
I nearly cried with joy.
“Oh my God, yes! It’s so weird how he is, like, forcing us.” Our teacher absolutely wasn’t forcing us, but it seemed like an adversary might really ramp up the stakes.
Theo got serious. “But . . . the show. We have a responsibility to the show.” I nodded. “I love this.” He beamed. “Thank you, Mira. Can . . . Let me take care of the arrangements, okay?”
“Jesus, kids, it’s not a wedding.” Mr. T strode by us, the smug stage manager, Jessica, smirking at us.
“Meet me after school, okay? At the church by my house.”
“We’re going to kiss at a church?”
“No! I just . . . just meet me there, okay?”
I floated through the rest of rehearsal, through science and civics, and practically ran home.
I showered and put on my favorite blue dress that was the color of forget-me-nots and had tiny buttons all the way down.
I never wore makeup—but I panicked and put on too much blush.
I rushed out the door, calling, “I’m going out! ” to my parents, who didn’t respond.
Theo was sitting on the church steps, wearing a button-down shirt, his hair wet from the shower. He looked nervous. That relaxed me, somehow. I was going to kiss this boy. Finally, finally, finally. All I had wanted all year was to kiss this boy.
“Here.” He shoved a bouquet of daisies at me. “Sorry. I don’t know.”
I laughed and smelled them.
“Daisies don’t actually smell that good,” he said.
“No, I like them.”
“Okay, come with me.” He took my hand and led me down the street. We didn’t speak, both staring straight ahead, our mission muting us. Finally, we arrived at a hedge with a break in it. “Come on.” He smiled, pulling me down a tiny bramble path.
We emerged into a fairyland. There were tall, flowering trees, peonies in full bloom, huge swaths of wildflowers spilling onto the path. There was a tiny pond with a stone bench, but Theo pulled me onward until we stood beneath a huge, blossoming apple tree.
“What is this place?” I could hardly breathe. “I must have passed it a hundred times. I had no idea it was here!”
“It’s a secret garden.” He looked proud. “It’s kind of a neighborhood project . . . These two old ladies put their backyards together, and they have been growing it for years . . .”
“I love it.”
“I thought you would.”
We stood there, the branches brushing the top of Theo’s head. He had grown three inches over the summer and was now taller than me. “Should we . . . Let’s sit down?” He took a blanket from his backpack and spread it out.
We sat facing each other. My heart was pounding. I closed my eyes and waited.
“Wait,” he said. “Are you . . . ? Is this . . . ? Like, is this a good place for your first kiss? I have a backup if you don’t like this.”
“I like it so much,” I whispered.
“Is it . . . Sorry, I just have to ask. Is it okay with you that I am your first kiss? I feel like it’s a lot of pressure, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to . . .”
“I want to,” I breathed. I sat back on my heels and opened my eyes. “Wait, do you not want to?”
“No! Um, yeah. I want to.”
“Okay, good.”
“Good.” I leaned forward again. There was a long pause. He looked pained.
“What?”
“You sure you consent?”
“Theo!”
“Okay, okay, sorry, I just . . . I’m supposed to ask, right?”
“I mean, I appreciate it. But I think consent has been implied for, like, many hours here.” Weeks, months, years, if you wanted to get technical.
“Okay.” He took a breath. He closed his eyes.
I reached for his hand and gently pulled him toward me.
I lifted my face and kissed him. He seemed surprised.
We both opened our eyes and looked directly at each other.
Our mouths came apart for a second, but he closed his eyes again and kissed me this time, longer, more intensely.
His mouth was soft, if a little slobbery, but maybe that was how it was supposed to be?
All I knew was the boy of my dreams was kissing me in a secret garden while apple blossoms fell around us, and for the first time in fifteen years, my life was completely perfect.
“Get a room, Romeo!” We were interrupted by an old lady in rubber boots carrying a rake. She chuckled as she passed.
“Actually, it’s for Oklahoma!” I called after her, indignant. Theo burst into laughter. He hugged me tightly.
“First kiss!” He high-fived me. “Nailed it.” I was slightly concerned that we had reverted back to high fives so quickly after such notable progress, but I didn’t want anything to ruin this moment, so I smiled and slapped his hand. I wondered if we should kiss again.
“Wanna go get a slushy?” he asked, perfectly normal, as though nothing had happened.
“Oh. Uh, sure.”
Oklahoma! went as well as Oklahoma! can, especially when directed by a soccer coach. We kissed onstage each night, each night my heart exploded, and each night Theo hugged me tightly backstage.
“You’re so good,” he would tell me. “You’re the best.”
At the cast party at Smug Jessica’s house, Theo kissed Mel Donovan, the senior who played Aunt Eller but was lethally hot without the wig and the apron.
I watched from across the room as my world ended.
I chugged a large plastic cup of Goldschl?ger and warm Mountain Dew and threw up in Jessica’s mom’s dahlias.