Lynn kissed on me all the time in first grade. My mom gave me permission to kiss her once a day. There wouldn’t be any more kissing for a long, long time.
Ugggh. It was awkward, and, as it turned out, not what she wanted me to do, at all.
When I was in 8th grade, I developed a crush (as it turned out, an unrequited crush) on a girl in my class. I carried a torch for her all through high school. I would, on occasion, work up the courage to go visit her house; she was sweet and kind to me, but always only saw me as a friend (and I have to imagine that she wished I would give up on looking for more).
Anyway, in the summer between freshman and sophomore years of high school, I went over to her house; she was sitting in the backyard, suntanning. We talked for a while, and when I decided it was time to go, I snuck a quick kiss. She was surprised, and not in a good way. At least she didn’t slap me. :smack:
I never got kissed, but John Brocato punched me in the gut once. And it wasn’t because he liked me - it’s because he was a rotten kid.