First Kiss

         Water melted the awkwardness of my youth, smoothed the rough edges of this tomboy, and softened the scabs on my knees.  Suspended safely in the medium of its unprejudiced embrace, water molded me into something more graceful.  It gave me strength and confidence and, most of all, joy.  In the deep, cool waters I moved like a cosmonaut dancer, swirling, whirling, propelled from my hips like a dolphin--essentially Cool.  I imagined my ears were gills.

         I experienced my first kiss while I swam with an Indian boy named Glenn at Lake O’ Pines.  Glenn and his sister, Ann, were my friends, though Grandma did not like them.  Two unsupervised and unruly locals, Glenn and Ann were a blast.  I never met their parents though the brother and sister showed up at the Lake every day.  I envied and admired their freedom.  Grandma thought they were a bad influence on me. 
             
        Most of the afternoon crowd had gone home for dinner.  Glenn and I were the only swimmers out at the diving dock.  We dove in the calm, deep water beneath the diving board in search of treasure--lost coins, watches, jewelry.  The lake’s surface seemed studded with diamonds beneath the longer slant of the golden evening’s sunrays.  Glenn’s smooth, dark skin shone when he surfaced as though he were gilded with dollops of molten silver that slipped over his shoulders and down his smooth chest back to their source.  As we treaded in the deep water, Glenn asked me, “Do you know what it means to ‘make out?’”
         I was ten years old.  I had never heard that term.  I shook my head.  “Huh-uh,” I admitted.
         “It means to kiss,” he told me with a roll of his eyes.
         “Oh,” I replied plainly.
         We dove again.  I found a quarter in the muck and gravel.  Glenn hovered in the murky, green water just in front of me.  I tapped his shoulder and pointed to the coin between my finger and thumb.  His sleek, black hair waved like seaweed.  Small air bubbles escaped his lips when he smiled.  He nodded and gave me the thumbs up.  I gripped the coin tightly and used my free arm to pull myself to the surface along the steel leg of the dock. 
          Glenn and I surfaced at the same time smiling victoriously.  A quarter was a pretty big find.  I examined it then handed it to him to have a look.  He turned it in his fingers.  “Cool,” he said.  He stretched up and placed it safely on the dock with our collection of pretty rocks and a rusted wrist watch.  We hung onto the I-beam along the underside of the dock and he asked me, “So, do you wanna?”
         “Wanna what?”
         “Kiss,” he said.
         I shrugged my shoulders.  “Okay,” I said.
         He moved a little closer to me.  Our silky legs brushed against one another as we gently kicked to stay afloat.  He pressed his tender lips against mine, lingered a moment, then we parted.  “How was that?” he asked.
         I shrugged and nodded.  “Good, I guess,” I replied.
         When he smiled, so did I.  He was a beautiful boy.
         We pushed off of the piling and dove in search of more treasure.