WILL HE KISS ME?

WILL HE KISS ME?

From Chicken Soup for the Romantic Soul

Will He Kiss Me?

Kissing is a means of getting two people so close together that they can’t see anything wrong with each other.

René Yasenek

I met Chris on a double date, only I was with his best friend. Chris of course was with his old girlfriend, Paula. As we sat at the restaurant, our eyes kept meeting. He had the most electrifying blue eyes I had ever seen. When he talked I got lost in the sea of blue. He had the kind of eyes that could make all the girls swoon. I knew I should not stare at this boy across from me—he was not my date. His eyes were like magnets drawing me back. Every time I looked at him I found him staring at me as well. I tried refocusing on my date but to no avail. I went home that night dreaming of those blue eyes and wondering if I ever would see them again.

A week later, Chris called. Oh, how my heart started racing. I got so excited I had to sit down. When he asked me out, the only thing I could think to ask was “What about Paula?” He responded, “What about her?” He then went on to tell me that the two of them were over. Nonchalantly I agreed to go out. In reality, I was so ecstatic I could hardly contain myself.

Saturday he arrived right on time. He came in, sat for awhile and chatted with my mom. I couldn’t take my eyes off him the entire time. I thought it was so sweet how he talked and listened to my mom, smiling and laughing with her. I was dancing on cloud nine.

Chris was a gentleman all evening. He opened my car door, offered his arm for me as we walked and always ushered me through the door first. When he brought me home he walked me to the house and greeted my mom. I fully expected a kiss at this time, but instead he said, “Thank you for going out with me tonight. I had a good time.” Wondering what was wrong, I responded,“I had a very good time too.” I thought may be he wanted to make sure I had a good time before we kissed. But he said goodnight and left. I was bewildered. What had gone wrong? Half of me thought he didn’t like me and that would be the end of it. The other half giggled at the thought of such a gentleman and was excited about the prospect of where this could go.

Monday I was standing at my locker when Chris came up behind me and gently touched me on the arm. I was very surprised to see him since we had never seen each other at school before. The school is huge with three floors and four different wings. There are so many students, it is impossible to know or have seen even half of them. But here he was, he had sought me out. I was very excited, and my heart raced as he asked me to go to a basketball game on Saturday. After he left I was so flustered I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to take from my locker. I closed it and floated down the hall. I’m sure I had a faraway look on my face, along with a silly grin. I didn’t have the right book for class, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was Chris.

Saturday arrived and I was a bundle of nerves. I wanted our date to be perfect. I drove my mom crazy that day, with questions about my clothes, my hair, makeup and what I should say and how to act.

Chris was right on time to pick me up. He came in and again exchanged pleasantries with my mom. He was so polite and nice, and he genuinely had an interest in my mom and the conversation.

We arrived at the basketball game, and walking across the parking lot, Chris took my hand and held it until we reached the building. All the while my heart was racing. His hand, firm and strong, engulfed mine. I could sense his strength, but he held my hand with such caring and gentleness. He made me feel safe and protected.

When he took me home that night I was sure he would give me a kiss. But again he just thanked me, and we departed. I couldn’t believe it—again no kiss! What was wrong with me? Was I imagining something between us that wasn’t there? I was very confused and frustrated. I talked to my mom, and she said, “I think he is a gentleman.” I responded, “Okay, but does that mean he likes me?” She shrugged her shoulders and winked at me with a smile on her face. I was so bewildered. I had never met anyone like Chris before, and I really liked him. But I was not certain how he felt about me.

The next week I didn’t see Chris until Wednesday afternoon. He found me on my way to lunch. He asked if I knew how to bowl. Sarcastically I thought, Bowling—this guy doesn’t like me in a romantic way at all. I responded unenthusiastically, “Yes, I’ve been on bowling leagues before.” Suddenly his face lit up. “Really!” he said with excitement. “We need another person for our team. Someone dropped out. Can you come tonight?” I shrugged one shoulder and said, “Sure,” feeling disappointed that we were never going to be more than “just” friends.

We went bowling that night. Our team won, and I really enjoyed being with Chris. Several times that night our eyes met, and I searched for some kind of a sign that he might still like me.

When he brought me home, he walked me up to the front door. I thanked him for inviting me to join the bowling league. As I turned to go inside, he gently touched my arm. I stood there looking into his dreamy blue eyes. He cupped my face in his large gentle hands. We searched each other’s eyes for what seemed like a lifetime. Then as if we could read each other’s minds we embraced in a long, passionate kiss. I was intoxicated with the aroma from his leather coat. I breathed deeply to savor the moment. Oh, at last, the kiss I had dreamed about. It was better than I had imagined. I was swept away. It was worth the wait. I knew in that instance there was a bond between Chris and me that would last a lifetime.

To this day I still savor that first kiss with Chris. That was nearly twenty years ago, although it seems like yesterday. I can still smell the leather of his coat. Sometimes I even take his coat out of our closet and breathe deep into it, relishing the memory of that first kiss. As for Chris, he can’t figure out why I want to keep that coat around. It hasn’t fit him for years.

Margaret E. Reed

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