Paper Lust

PAPER LUST

“Smooth,

Tangible,

Paper-thin secrets.”

JULY, SUMMER OF 2012

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DAVID

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“HAVE you ever kissed someone?”

My question hung over the air like a ticking time bomb.

As I let it hover in the atmosphere like a hypothetical proposition, my mind began reeling forward into a deep plethora of desires and adolescent curiosity. I opted to remain neutral after uttering the words from my lips, keeping an unfazed expression on my face. I patiently waited for Colin, who was sitting beside me, holding a magazine filled with nude women in front of him, to answer back. But the silence just went on…

For a moment, I thought, I’d made the wrong move. And I suddenly felt resentfully embarrassed by my question. Why did I even ask that?

Then Colin finally spoke up, clearing my thoughts, “Why? Got some chic in mind?”

I bitterly smiled at his words, feeling a little bit disappointed. Typical. But I can’t really blame him for thinking the way a young boy should at his age. I only sighed back, wondering how long I could keep up with this silly pretense of acting like a normal boy in front of him.

“No, I just thought I really didn’t know how to do it,” I said back with a shrug, trying to sound like it's a natural thing to even talk about it.

But as soon as I’ve said those words, I sensed Colin tensing up beside me. I could feel the weight of his heavy stare on the side of my face, probably shocked to find out I still haven’t kissed anyone before. I could have, in fact. But I just chose not to. I had decided to patiently wait for the right moment, like this one: the right moment with him.

“Do you?” I casually asked him again when he didn't say anything after, meeting those purest almond eyes that were staring right back at me.

“Do I what?”

“Do you know how to do it?”

He seemed to deeply think about it for a second, not daring to give me a reply right away. And after a few more seconds of hesitating, he shook his head no.

“Let’s do it.” I undoubtedly suggested it.

I don’t know if it’s caused by the taste of burnt-out nicotine in my mouth or the tangy sting of alcohol clouding my sense of reason, but I was suddenly feeling out of myself at that moment—as if I can do just about anything I’ve wanted. No regrets… No doubts.

Colin only looked at me as if I’d grown another head and dumbly asked, “Do what?”

I paused and gave him the most intense stare I could give for a fourteen-year-old kid and answered in clipped boldness, “Let’s do it. A kiss.”

And for the reason that he might turn weird and aloof about my bizarre suggestion, I impulsively leaned down towards him. No more speaking. Forget the whole world and that dumb contradicting voice shouting at the back of my mind… I just want to KISS him.

I DON'T CARE. I’ve always wanted to do this. I want to KISS Colin Keaton.

And so, I did.

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