my last first kiss

July 28, 2007

Steve and I had started spending quite a bit of time together at camp.

One Saturday (a day off from campers), Steve and I walked down to the lake at sunset. Steve asked me if I wanted to go out on a rowboat with him. I spent every afternoon that summer putting kids in canoes, kayaks, and paddleboats, so I pointed out that no one ever went out in the rowboats because they had holes in them. He didn’t seem to mind that fact, and of course I wanted to go with him!

As we got into the boat in shallow water, we passed my friend Kristen and a couple other girls on the dock. They started humming “Kiss the Girl” from Little Mermaid, and I tried to quickly shush them.

Steve rowed, and I bailed every so often with a small bucket.

We talked about our jobs at camp, campers, our families, school. It was  the first time that he really opened up to me about his life. It got dark out as we were out on the water. The moon was up, and bats were low in the sky.

We were out on the water for a long time…. hours. At some point Steve stood up in the boat, and pretended to rock it from side to side. (Steve told me later that the rocking back and forth was to buy him time—he was trying to build up his confidence.) I stood up next to him. It had gotten cold, so we were freezing in our shorts, tee shirts, and life jackets. And then we kissed for the very first time!

Eventually we realized that the boat had drifted pretty far from camp, so we headed back to shore.

And that was the very beginning!