First Love

I remember the summer I turned 14 and discovered girls for the first time. The fateful night in question my friends and I were sitting upon a hill watching our favourite band through the coming dusk. From our vantage point, we saw the stage lights of red, yellow, blue, and green begin to flash rhythmically across the heads of the enthusiastic audience.

We each held paper plates of food that we had snaffled from the tables below. Little triangle sandwiches, sausage rolls, cocktail sausages, and cupcakes. I have to admit my adolescent hunger had me hunting out second and even third helpings.

This was our town's annual August street party marking the penultimate week of our summer holidays. We laughed and joked, discussed our favourite TV shows, the latest chart music, and our plans for the last few days of our holidays.

Three girls caught our attention as they walked towards us, still holding their empty paper plates. With a giggle and a toss of their hair, they threw the plates at us and took off running.

The night was still and calm, and the plates found their playful marks. We took off after the giggling threesome, smiling and laughing ourselves. To be truthful the chasing was fun, but I for one was nervous about the catching. I wasn’t quite sure what was to happen then. This was a new game and a whole new world for my 14-year-old self.

When I got close, one of the girls stopped and turned around smiling. Her long dark hair, bobbing to the side as it came to rest. Her round-framed glasses reflecting the light coming from the stage below. This single image was tattooed on my retinas and replayed in my dreams throughout that summer!

God, she looked so cool! My breath caught in my chest and my heart hammered so loudly in my ears I thought for a moment she might hear it.

I reached out tentatively and touched her hand and she leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the lips. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again she was gone, running towards her friends, only the scent of her perfume left behind.

My friends nudged each other and chuckled at me. They hadn’t got a kiss and privately I believed the entire scenario was planned so Julie, my girl could kiss me. I smiled and walked down the hill towards the dancing crowds. This had already been the best day of my life.

That night we stayed in my friend’s tent in his grandad’s backfield. It must have been 11 pm by the time we zipped up and got into our sleeping bags.

As usual, we talked before sleep took us. John and Pete started to joke at my expense.

‘She must have taken pity on you’ John laughed and slapped me on the shoulder.

“Yeah, she gave you a sympathy kiss,” Pete giggled.

I just smiled,

“Jealousy is an awful thing, lads. Jealousy is indeed an awful thing.”

I played it straight-faced but inside my mind raced, my heart ached and on my lips, I could still taste her strawberry lip balm.

That night I twisted and turned and sleep evaded me. I lay in my sleeping bag staring at the tent’s canvas ceiling. I replayed Julie’s smile and kiss over and over in my mind to the accompaniment of the gentle snores of my friends. It was the best sleepless night I ever had.

The next morning we awoke early to the sound of a quiet, hushed conversation coming from outside our tent. Slowly I unzipped the door and the three of us poked our heads out into the cool morning air. The hedge in front of us was shaking and Pete called out nervously,

"Hey, who's there?"

I had a good idea who it was but kept it to myself, my chest swelling with joy.

I quietly got out of the tent and popped my head over the top of the foliage and shouted "Boo!"

The girls jumped. "Oh, hi girls fancy meeting you here”, I said.

I smiled and tried to speak normally but to my dismay, I could hear a slight tremor in my voice.

Slowly, Julie stood and her beauty took my breath away once more. The two of us blushed madly. Behind me, the two boys were attempting to engage her friends in conversation, but my entire focus was on Julie.

Slowly I reached over and took her hand in mine and, inspired by the movies, I raised it to my lips and kissed it gently. I cringe now when I think of this, but at the time our teenage selves thought this was the most romantic gesture ever. I have never seen Julie smile so brightly!

Later that day I gathered my savings and my sister and I went into town. We were always close and she was my confidant. She had promised to provide her little brother with a lady's perspective on his romantic mission. Despite being grateful for her help, my sister laughed at me so hard I almost wished I hadn't asked her.

The next morning, more nervous than I had ever felt before, I approached Julie's front door. I rang the doorbell and Julie's older sister answered. She took one look at me and called over her shoulder,

"Julie, there's a strange-looking boy here for you".

She smirked at me then called over her shoulder again,

“Shall I call dad?"

My face went beet red and I started to shake a little. I was ever so pleased to see Julie come rushing down the stairs. She scowled at her sister before pushing her back into the house.

"I'm sorry about that, she just thinks she's funny".

She blushed herself when I handed her the boxed red rose that had cost me my savings. On the reverse, she found my handwritten note asking, "Can I be your boyfriend?".

I was taken aback when she immediately stepped forward, put her arms around my neck, and kissed me gently on the lips. At 14 I had somehow managed to get my first girlfriend and there wasn't a better feeling in the world!

Even now, many years later, when I hear the chart music of that era on the radio, my mind often returns to that summer. I am flooded with memories of that idyllic August street party when I met Julie, my first love. Oh! to be 14 again!