A FIRST!
My First Snog
Snog = kiss with tongues
I went to a friend’s house party when I was fourteen years old. My friend’s mum was away for the weekend and my friend was being looked after by her seventeen-year-old sister. Of course a party ensued. Who wouldn’t take advantage of a parentless house as a teenager?
Really, it was the party of the seventeen-year-old, but my friend had been allowed to invite a few people along too. Of course, word got out amongst our peer group, and a few friends turned into a lot more.
The house wasn’t very big, but that didn’t matter at all; it was better for a party. It was packed. The fourteen-year-olds danced in the living room, and the seventeen-year-olds stood around looking cool in the kitchen.
There was a lot of alcohol around since some of the seventeen-year-olds were in relationships with eighteen-year-olds. It was the sort of alcohol that you could drink without it tasting like alcohol — Bacardi Breezers, Red Square, WKD, Reefs — basically alcohol in bottles with fizzy drinks added.
Everyone was pretty drunk, high on the freedom of it all.
I found myself sitting on the sofa with a young man we’ll name Chris. I sat next to Chris in science lessons at school. He was cute. He wasn’t one of the really popular kids. He was nice. I liked sitting next to him in science lessons. He used to doodle on my science book — a surefire sign that he liked me too.
Back to the sofa. The room was dark with a few flashing lights — perfect conditions for snogging. Hoards of people were dancing and snogging in the middle of the room.
Chris and I smiled nervously at each other. Our heads kept edging closer until we were close enough to bang our teeth together. I’m not sure if it was his first snog or not, but I certainly didn’t know what I was doing. We snogged. Someone screamed, “Ah, Chris and Elena are snogging!” and that ended things pretty sharply.
We both got up, embarrassed, and wandered off to find our friends. My best friend came over to me, knowing that this was my first snog, and asked me how it was.
“Wet” was my response.
Later on in the night, the party had ascended to the upstairs floor. There was less dancing now, and more people sitting on beds chatting. I was sitting on my friend’s bed, surrounded by my mates when my friend’s seventeen-year-old sister came in to report that Chris was being sick in the bathroom.
My friends completely shafted me and claimed that I would need to go and look after him since I was the one who had snogged him earlier on in the night. Only once, I wanted to say, but didn’t.
They insisted.
Mortified, I got up to go and see if he was ok, but by the time I’d stumbled over all the debris in the corridor, he’d already left the bathroom, and the party. I returned to my friend’s bedroom, tail between my legs.
Monday morning came round, and double science with it.
Chris didn’t do much doodling in my book. He was embarrassed that he’d been sick and I was embarrassed that my first snog has been so offensive that it had caused someone to throw up. It was more likely the alcopops, but try telling that to a fourteen-year-old girl.
