My First Crush

For the next week or so I am going to write about some of my first intimate experiences.  My goal as a writer is to try something new for me, which is writing about a subject with a different type of detail.  While much of my writing pays specific attention to intimacy it is seldom, if ever explicit.  I am going to go a little further out of my comfort zone by writing more explicitly.  I have written explicit material before I just typically don’t share it.  This will be something new for me and my readers.  I am going to start with something simple.

When I was eleven I developed my first real crush.  I had lived next door to Brian since the day I was born.  Our parents had been friends since before either of us was born and we spent a lot of time together.  My mother often babysat Brian and his older sister when his parents went out and his mother babysat me and my brother when my parents went out.   He was one of my earliest friends.  His parents divorced when we were both seven. His mother took her children and moved to Texas. 

Soon after Brian moved away my family moved to a small lake front community about thirty minutes from my hometown.   Though our mothers kept in touch I soon forgot about my friend.  I lived in a new place with new friends.  The summer before I was to start sixth grade, my mother informed that Brian and his family had moved back to California and would be coming to visit in a week or so. 

I wasn’t particularly excited about him coming to visit.  I had new friends and I had become aware of boys.  I didn’t like any one in particular, I just liked boys.  My friends and I spent a significant amount of time discussing which boys we thought we were cute and which ones we thought liked us.  We were prepubescent girls just entering a whole new kind of awareness.   We knew boys were cute. We knew we wanted to spend more time looking at them and talking about them, but none of us had the slightest clue what lay beyond that.

The following Friday, Brian, his mother and sister showed up in the evening.  Brian’s sister, who was two years older than I was.  To me she looked like a grown-up.  She had developed breasts and acted as though she was somehow in charge of me.  We were less like friends now but rather she regarded as an annoying little sister whom she needed to educate.  My mother informed me that we would be sharing a room.  Evidence of puberty and the change in our personal dynamic reminded of a Judy Blume novel.  I had no boobs and hadn’t got my period so she was an adult and I was just a girl. 

Brian had changed considerably too.  He was much taller.  He had hit a growth spurt earlier than most boys our age and he was cute.  I didn’t remember him being cute.  I was suddenly embarrassed that I ever took a bath with him.  I blushed at the thought of it. I blushed again when he said hi and greeted me with a hug.  He gave me a funny look.  My mother ordered us all to go to bed.

When we got to the room Brian’s sister dropped her unicorn duffle bag on my bed and informed me that she would be sleeping in my bed and that I could sleep in it with her provided I didn’t wiggle around, or I would be sleeping on the floor for the duration of her stay.  I promised not to wiggle.  She began to undress to get ready for bed.  I had never seen a girl roughly my age with breasts and I felt uncomfortable when she took her bra off and tossed on the floor.  I looked down at my feet.  She looked at me and said, “Oh Gawd Teri!  You’ve never seen boobs before?”  I blushed and climbed under the covers while she finished changing into her nightgown.  She climbed into bed with me and asked me if I had had my period yet.  I told her I hadn’t and she rolled her eyes.  At that point I actually wanted to sleep on the floor.  She sat up in the bed and looked down at me.  “Do you have a boyfriend?” she asked.  “No,” I answered blushing at what I thought was an absurd question.  “Have you ever kissed a boy?” she inquired.  I giggled and shifted uncomfortably in the bed.  “No.” I answered.  “I have a boyfriend and I have kissed three boys,” she righteously informed me.  “I kissed boys when I was your age.”  “Do you like boys, yet?” she pressed.  “Yes,” I answered.  “What boy?” she asked.   “I don’t know.” I was beginning to become more uncomfortable with this line of questioning.  “Do you like Brian?” she inquired.  “No!”  I almost screamed my answer. She said, “Well Brian has kissed girls.”  I rolled on to my side and pulled my blanket over my head.  She laughed and scooted down into the bed. 

The next morning I got up before my roommate to avoid any more interrogation.  I had no desire to spend any more time with the woman of thirteen than I had too.  When I made my way downstairs my brother and Brian were eating breakfast.  I sat at the table and poured myself a bowl of cereal.  “My sister is a brat, huh?” Brain asked but it was more of a statement.  “She is okay.” I said shrugging.  “Liar,” he said laughing and punching me in the arm. “All she talks about is boys and her stupid boobs.”  The table erupted with laughter. 

After breakfast the three of us went outside to play.  That afternoon my younger brother had a friend over to play so it was just me and Brian, just like the old days.  We walked around the neighborhood.  Went and sat on the dock near my house and stuck our feet in the lake.  We hit each other and teased each other.  Everything felt like it did when we last saw each other three years earlier.  When the sun started to set my mother called us in for dinner.  I sat next to Brian.  As our parents talked Brain continued poking and pinching me. I tried to smack his hands away and then I bumped the table.  “Will you two knock it off?!?” Our mothers screeched and glared at us in unison.  We both fought to contain our giggles. And then it happened.   Brian took my hand under the table and slide his fingers between mine.  I felt all of the color rush to my face.  I felt lightheaded and jerked my hand out of his.  He looked at me and smirked.

After dinner I went and sat on the back patio, thinking about what had happened at the table.  I smiled to myself.  I did like holding his hand but was confused about why I felt the way I did while it was happening.  I felt nervous.  I felt all tingly and my stomach felt funny when I thought about Brian.  A few minutes later Brain came out on the porch and pulled a chair next to mine.  He didn’t say anything but took my hand again.  We sat outside for what felt like an eternity holding hands and not saying a word to one another.  When my little brother came outside Brian let go of my hand.  When I reached out to take his he smacked it away and went in the house.  I glared at my brother, tears welling up in my eyes.  After a long moment of casting eye daggers I went in the house to go to bed. 

I wanted to hold Brian’s hand and my stupid little brother ruined it.  As I was just beginning to doze off my bedroom light came on and I sat up squinting against the glare of the light trying to see who had come in.  It was Brian’s sister.  “Are you going to sleep?” she asked.  Without a response she stuck her head out into the hall and said, “She is sleeping Brian.”  “No I’m not. He can come in.” I was instantly jolted back into full consciousness at the mention of his name. “Oh, okay.” She shrugged and opened the door wider for Brian to enter.  Brian made his way around to my side of the bed and sat on the edge of the bed.  His sister sat next to me.  Brian and I just looked at each other.  I blushed and looked down.  He pushed my shoulder playfully.  His sister looked from her brother to me and smirked.  “I think Teri is tired Brian,” she said. “No I’m…” I began to respond but she continued.  “You should give her a kiss goodnight and let her go to sleep.”  I looked up at her in absolute terror.  I wanted to die.  I looked back at Brian horrified.  He shrugged and leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the lips. My stomach started doing flips and my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest.  Brian looked slightly confused about what had happened as well.  He looked at me for a moment then put his hand on my cheek. He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine again.  His lips parted slightly and his hand moved from my cheek to the back of my neck.  He smiled with his mouth pressed against mine and then kissed me harder.  My skin was on fire.  Every part of my face was tingling.  I was frozen. 

His sister put her hand on Brian’s shoulder and pushed him away from me.  “Okay Brian, go to bed.” she ordered and pointed at the door.  Brian glared at her in defiance.  “Mom!” she yelled.  Brian hopped off the bed and quickly moved toward the door.  Once through it, he turned and said, “Goodnight.”  I smiled but was still too stunned to say anything.  Brian shut the door my mind still racing.  “Go to bed Teri,” his sister said, turning the light back off. 

I didn’t sleep at all that night.  All night I tossed and turned, thinking about Brain and our wedding.  Halfway through the night his sister ordered me to the floor and I thought about sneaking into my brother’s room so Brian could kiss me some more.  I decided I could wait until morning.  As soon as the sun came up I went to my brother’s room but it was empty.  I ran down stairs to find Brian and my brother eating breakfast.  I sat down next to Brian who didn’t say a word to me.  I brushed my hand against his and scooted closer to my brother, I was heartbroken.    Brian was leaving that afternoon and all I wanted was to kiss.  And I knew in that moment that I wasn’t going to get a chance.

The rest of the day, Brian avoided me.  If he and my brother were playing Atari and I tried to join, they went outside.  When I went outside, they went to my brother’s room.  I went into my room and sat on my bed and cried.  When it came time for Brian to leave my mother came and knocked on my door.  She told me they were leaving and asked me to come say goodbye.  I refused to go downstairs even after being threatened with punishment for my rudeness. 

Brian’s sister came back to my room a few moments later to say goodbye.  She looked at me for a moment and then sat down on the bed next to me.  She put her arm around me and I cried.  “Do you love my brother?” she asked.  “No.  I hate him.” I responded.   She pulled me closer to her and said, “That is what boys do.  They break our hearts.”  She gave me a squeeze, said goodbye and left the room.  

At eleven I thought I had done something wrong and would spend the bulk of the remaining summer trying discussing, with my friends, what I did wrong and how not to do it again.  It is funny how a crush in elementary school can become the pattern for how you behave in adult relationships.   The basic scenario doesn’t change much.  Boy likes girl. Girl loves boy.  Boy isn’t emotional available.  Boy gets what boy wants.  Girl is sad.  Some things never change.   

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