The difference between giving a kiss and kissing someone. | Teen Ink

The difference between giving a kiss and kissing someone.

August 11, 2013
By stelladamore1718 GOLD, Longmeadow, Massachusetts
stelladamore1718 GOLD, Longmeadow, Massachusetts
12 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
l'amor che move l'altre stelle (the love that moves the sun and the other stars)


There is a distinct difference between giving someone a kiss, and kissing them. Now, I have no problem giving my wrinkly, old, great aunt Edna a kiss. But there is NO WAY that I would kiss her. Does that make sense? Like, I’d give my dog a kiss, I’d give my best friend a kiss, for pete’s sake, I’d give my brother a kiss! But I wouldn’t kiss any of them. That probably doesn’t make sense. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t understand it either. I’ll rewind for a second, maybe that will help.

It was just your typical Monday lunch time. The morning classes dragged on like getting behind someone on the highway who wasn’t moving any faster than your average sloth. Some homework was shoved in our faces too. Awesome, I really love taking more work home after a long day of the crap. His iridescent green eyes popped into my head every second I wasn’t glancing over at the clock to see if closing my eyes worked and time had magically past. LOL, well two minutes had past, forty five more? Challenge excepted. Periodically I’d nod my head in the direction of the teacher who was talking about.. well yeah, the teacher was talking.

Back to lunch. My eyes found the table where everyone was sitting, or rather, my version of everyone. Of course there were other people in the cafeteria, just none that mattered. In the inevitable social heiarchy of the school that the faculty refuses to believe exists, I fall into the category of nerd. As I’m sure you are very well aware, there are the populars, the average, the nerds, and the dorks. I don’t think I need to waste time explaining each group to you. Honestly, the kids here are your stereotypical, suburban town, rich kids. Some of the kids work their butts off to get into Harvard and impress their overbearing parents while the others are sleeping around or doing drugs. Okay, well thats not entirely true. But that does describe a decent amount of the people in Charles, Mass.

My friend Samantha was doing some sort of crazy thing with her fork while Thomas was trying to figure out the trajectory he would have to throw the apple at to land it with a swoosh into the trashcan. A nerds attempt at basketball, maybe? I shoved part of a granola bar in my mouth and brushed back a small portion of my pine needle colored hair. Yeah, that’s how I describe it. It’s brittlely and this awful brownish-yellow color. My skin is pale as a newly born babies butt and I have the build of a twig. This is part A of why he will never look at me. Now for part B, back to that convenient little list society enjoys enforcing upon humanity, he is not exactly a popular but close enough. In general, I don’t give a rat’s buttox about what people think of me but he is a whole textbook.

James is brilliant. Not like nerd smart, like legitamently brilliant. That’s how I know him, he’s in all of my classes. It doesn’t make sense, those unwritten social rules call for the more popular to lack intelligence. Yet, he understands things quicker and better than I ever could, while obtaining perfectly quaffed coal hair. Coal, that’s a good way to describe it, like it’s been set on fire, he’s carbon so I guess that would make sense (Nerd joke).

My train of thought was distracted by the fact that he was walking towards me. Wait what. Mallory(my best friend) eyes were bulging out of her heard as she nibbled on her petite orange carrot. Why was he…

“Maggie, uh..” his flawless raspy voice sounded like a symphony in my head. “Can I talk to you for a second?” His tanned hands were slipped into his front dark washed jean pockets. I stood up and quickly tried to smooth out my creased red shirt. Self conscious teenager, check. I exchanged a quick look with Thomas who I knew disapproved on all levels of speaking with anyone who wasn’t one of “the group”

“Yeah?” I managed to utter. I could converse with him when we were talking about sciences or history but just.. talking? There was no class that taught you how to have simple social skills. This was the one class I actually needed.

“What would you think if I took you out Friday night?” the words rolled off his tongue as if he didn’t have a care in the word. Did he just ask me what I think he did…

“My real name is Mildred.” It fell out of my mouth. I didn’t know what to do. And the second I said it, I was humiliated. “I uh.. just thought you should know that, you know, before you took me out and all..” I tried to cover my ass, it didn’t go very well. A brilliant smile spread across his face to unleash an army of pearly white choppers.

“I’ll just take that as a yes then. Pick you up at eight” He flashed that grin I love again, threw his car keys in the air, and spun away as they fell from above. What comes up must go down I figured. Just like me. My real name? Really? How could I not find one intelligent thing to say? Ugh.

“What was that about?” Mallory asked, ugh, here we go.

“He asked me about..” and here began the beginning of describing every detail of that humiliating yet impossible experience. No no no, that doesn’t happen. Haha this is a joke, the nerd girl doesn’t get asked out by a god like that, it just doesn’t happen.

Anyways, the next few days aren’t important. Actually, the date isn’t that important either. I mean, it was the best night of my life and all but thats no big deal, I have a much bigger problem on my hands now and it is the reason that this story exists. After our magical night of unicorns and castles, okay, dinner and a movie, he asked for my number. James Davidson asked for my number, yup, that happened. And we talk twenty four seven. It’s been weeks now, and it’s the most fantastic thing. We talk about science and math and god and all the things that make us tick… I’m getting off task here, once again, not important.

One day, he was texting me, and he told me that he was going to give me a kiss. The next day he was texting me, he told me he was going to kiss me. The night after that he told me he was going to give me a kiss, and the morning after that, he said he was going to kiss me, the story continues on from here. Do you see the problem here? What does that mean? He doesn’t understand why I’m so frustrated at him, and for such a brilliant kid! Like, hold the phone. This is the point I was trying to get across earlier. You give a kiss to just anyone. They’re having a bad day? Give them a kiss! Your cat died, give your ma a kiss! Your dog ran into a pole, give it a kiss! But you don’t just kiss someone. No. Kissing someone implies some sort of passion. Basically my point here is, if he wants to just give me a kiss, I’m just another living object on the face of this spherical planet to him. But if he wants to kiss me, then I am the planet. Why doesn’t he understand the fact that there is a distinct difference.

I talked to Thomas and Mallory about it, and they don’t see the big deal. So what? They said if he just wants to give me a kiss, that’s more than someone wants to give either of them. I told them they were wrong and that I’d give either of them a kiss, and it was the same concept, but they disagreed. I don’t like judging intelligence but sometimes I think that everyone around me are dumb asses.

Moving on, tonight is going to be the night of James’ and I’s third date. Do you know what this means? Well, according to Yahoo!Answers, the third date is the night of the first kiss. I’m freaking out. First off, problem A, I have no idea how to kiss! Samantha told me it was like puckering your lips when you taste something really sour but to me thats a bit of an oxymoron because the silly person that made kissing look like that obviously didn’t understand the fact that kissing is supposed to be sweet. Unless they were trying to parallel the two? No. There is no way they over thought it this much, I can’t over think it this much. And problem B, I still don’t know how he’s going to kiss me. What if our first kiss is him kissing me on the cheek? Does that just count as him giving me a kiss or could that possibly count as him kissing me? No it couldn’t. Cheek = giving someone a kiss. Lips on the other hand, that is definitely him kissing me. Tonight is the big night, life form or planet? I will find out where I stand.

He pulled up to the little white house on 67 Grandby lane in a midnight blue Chevy. I slid my little stick figure into the car and he grinned. His huge right hand grabbed my petite left one and he drove us to some unknown destination while a soft ballad played in the background. Did I mention that he loves to listen to classical music? Nothing is more perfect than he. Well except that tragic flaw he has… one day he’ll understand the difference.

We turned into the parking lot of a small coffee shop on the other side of town. “You said this was your favorite place, right?” His velvety voice rumbled. I nodded. Wow he remembered, impressive. I guess he of all people would though, he does have the memory of an elephant. How we spent our evening isn’t exactly dire to the story either. He bought us cinnamon danishes and my absolute and eternal all time favorite, black mocha coffee. He held my hand and we laughed and discussed our nerd things like usual, it was perfect. But thats not what I need to talk about. I’ll wrap this story up with the climax.

As we were exiting, the sky had turned as aphotic as the depths of the ocean and the weather was even more chilled then some of those Tumbler quotes. He turned and faced me.

“I promised you something”

I thought for a moment. What had he promised…

And then he kissed me. Right on the lips. There right in front of God and everyone. Woah.

For a moment, he looked taken aback. My face must have looked as blank as Jordan Crany’s history homework.

“That was me kissing you” he elucidated. Really? I’m not that dumb.

“ I’m aware..” I mumbled under my breath. He wasn’t generally one for condesention.

“No, I was clarifying. I kissed you, I didn’t give you a kiss.”

A broad and stupid smile spread widely across my face. Planet, I thought silently to myself.



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