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“That’s just not true,” Erin said. She tried her best to look and sound offended—indignant, even. How dare you, she hoped her face was saying. How dare you question me, or my integrity, or my life choices.
“Right then. Go on, tell me who it was,” Michelle said, crossing her arms over her chest. Her homework was sitting beside her, undone, the pencil threatening to roll off the edge of the bed. She had abandoned it a while ago, choosing instead to focus on the dating life (or lack thereof, she would note) of her best friend. “If it’s not true, as you claim, then tell me.”
Erin scoffed. “Well, you know, I’m not one to kiss and tell.” She could feel Michelle and Orla both staring at her, though she was pretty sure Orla wasn’t paying any attention whatsoever to what was actually happening.
Clare, from her position on the floor, looked up at Erin with wide eyes. Like the others, she had given up any pretense of reading, more interested in what was going on with her two friends. Seemed like none of them had an appetite for reading Michael Longley tonight. “Really, Erin? You wouldn’t tell us?”
Even James’s pencil had stopped moving across his notebook, though he at least did her the courtesy of not looking up from the paper and pretending not to pay attention to their conversation. She wasn’t sure she could handle all of their eyes on her.
“There’s was, ach… well, you know. John Paul, of course—”
Michelle snorted. “Aye, that doesn’t count, Erin. It was your cheek. Any girl who hasn’t been kissed on the cheek by a fella by your age definitely has something else going on.”
“—and, well. Let’s see. Someone that you all wouldn’t know. A friend of… of…” She struggled to come up with someone that none of them would know. Derry was so fucking tiny, she was sure that any name she invented would eventually lead to them talking about the brother of so-and-so or the cousin of the girl up the road.
Maybe she could turn the whole thing around. Say that her da had given her a peck on the forehead or her granda or something. Orla would back her up with a few affirming words about how, yep, that had definitely happened. Michelle might protest, and Christ, it would be lame, but at least it would stop this line of questioning from continuing.
“A friend of who? Inventing a fella over there, Erin? Because imaginary boyfriends don’t count, either. If it’s not a real fella it’s not a real kiss.”
“Fine! If you want the truth, then no. It hasn’t happened yet,” she said. “I have yet to, you know, actually kiss or be kissed by someone. But that’s my choice, Michelle! I haven’t wanted to kiss anyone, and have not been in any situations where someone that I wanted to kiss me could actually kiss me. There have been plenty of times that someone has wanted to kiss me and I just haven’t felt the same desire.”
“Catch yourself on,” Michelle muttered, rolling her eyes.
“Except at Jenny’s party,” Clare pointed out. Erin shot her a glare that she hoped conveyed all of the fire of Hell. Clare seemed unfazed, however. “I’m pretty sure David Donnelly was kind of into you, and you ignored him the whole night.”
“Well, not the whole night,” Erin protested weakly.
Michelle nodded. “The whole night. Sauntering about, following James like the prick was going to start riding Katya in the middle of Jenny Joyce’s kitchen. David Donnelly could’ve had a sign that said ‘Begging you Erin, ride me’ and you’d’ve ignored him. That was your chance.”
“Maybe she didn’t want to kiss David Donnelly, Michelle,” James said. Erin winced. She knew he was trying to defend her, but of all the arguments to use, he had to choose the one that was the absolute dumbest pile of shit she’d heard.
“Aye, right, Erin Quinn doesn’t want to kiss David fucking Donnelly. Don’t know what world you’re living in, dicko, but it’s not the real one,” Michelle said.
Orla blinked a few times, as if she had been sleeping with her eyes open and was just startling herself back into being awake. “We should help Erin,” she said dreamily. “We should help her achieve her goal of being kissed by some fella before she dies.”
“I’m not planning on dying anytime soon, Orla,” Erin said, alarmed. “I would hope I have a few more good years left before this becomes some kind of an issue.”
“Orla’s got a point,” Michelle said. “If you aren’t going to get yourself kissed, Erin, then we need to get it done for you. We’ll find you someone to kiss you so you can get it out of the way.”
“Before you die,” Orla added.
Erin stared at her. “Again, Orla, I’m not going to die.”
“You never know, Erin. That’s what we thought about Toto, too, and look where he is. Gone.”
“Because mammy gave him away! Toto is still alive, Orla. And I think I could outlive a dog.”
Michelle shrugged. “Maybe you’d die of boredom. I mean, look at what you’re doing tonight. Another night of homework and group study isn’t exactly the height of excitement, Erin.”
“You’re here too, Michelle,” Clare said. “We all are.”
“Only because I had a feeling someone was going to need my help tonight,” Michelle said. “Little did I know that she would need so much help. It’s a pity, really. So old, and so little done with her life.”
“I can hear you Michelle,” Erin said, picking up Michelle’s homework and throwing it at her. “Now get your work done so you can get the fuck out of my room.”
“What about him?”
Erin glanced up at the boy Michelle was conspicuously pointing at. He luckily had his back turned to them, but even from their distance and his angle, he looked alright. A little scruffy, maybe. And what on earth kind of a shirt was he wearing? Really, how could she ever kiss someone with such little regard for dressing well that he chose to wear something like that to the mall? Didn’t he know it was a palace to be seen? A place where other people were?
She scrunched up her face. “Are you serious?” she asked, somewhat disgusted. “He’s got, you know, holes in his jeans, Michelle. And his hair looks like he hasn’t washed it in at least a month.”
“For fucks sake Erin. You can't find fault with literally every fella in fucking Derry. You just need to get your first one out of the way so you finally get the good stuff.”
“Can’t we move on from this already?” James asked sharply. “It’s been a week. I don’t think you’re going to find someone for Erin to… I just don’t think this is going to end up well.”
She looked up and caught James’s eye, smiling slightly to show her appreciation. “Thank you, James. I agree.”
“Seems to be the only fella in Derry you find agreeable at the moment,” Michelle said. Erin saw James’s face fall slightly, and he looked a bit panicked. She suspected he wasn’t used to Michelle saying anything vaguely nice about him. “But I guess James doesn’t really count, anyway. He’s a Derry Girl now and all. And before that, he wasn’t even really a fella.”
Well, at least that didn’t last long.
“Seriously, Michelle?” James sighed. “You were the one who said that to me in the first place.”
She snorted. “Didn’t think you take it as some kind of rallying cry, now did I?”
Erin reached over and grabbed a fry off of Michelle’s plate, watching the two of them. Clare had stayed behind at school, having joined an actual extracurricular in order to appease her parents after their many, many mishaps and also impress any future schools that would want to see her actually doing something with her life, apparently. And Orla had disappeared before they even made it here. Erin suspected she had gone to replenish her seemingly never ending stash of candy, or gone home to watch a show with their granda, or just vanished into thin air.
Michelle and James had started on a full out argument. Or, rather, Michelle had started laying into James, and he was trying desperately to defend himself against the unrelenting verbal sting of his cousin. Erin was so glad that Michelle had stopped trying to find someone for her to kiss that she didn’t dare step in, either to help James or help Michelle. If they forgot she was here, then she wouldn’t have to spend another afternoon evaluating and discarding half of the population.
She picked up another fry, her mind wandering. To be honest, she was kind of shocked at how hard it had been for Michelle to find someone she thought was a ride. She was usually quick to find someone attractive, even in spite of some less… desirable qualities, like having a girlfriend or boking on her shoes or having never spoken to her at all. Not that she was boy crazy, or anything. She had taste. And self respect. But, she had to admit that even a year ago it might have been easier.
Come to think of it, it had been a while since she had felt the butterflies in her stomach that usually accompanied one of her crushes. She tried to think about the last time she had been positively giddy upon seeing a boy, and the only thing she could come up with was James’s face after he decided he was staying in Derry, or his slicked back hair and huge smile when he had come to pick her up for prom. She thought harder, and the only things coming to mind were memories of her friends, their adventures and mishaps and nights spent together, laughing and teasing and fighting and talking.
“Oi, Erin!”
Michelle’s voice made Erin blink, and then she realized she had gotten totally lost in her thoughts. She also realized that she had been kind of staring at James while she wasn’t paying attention.
“Are you two finished?” Erin asked, quickly looking over at Michelle. Her staring didn’t seem to get noticed, thank Jesus. “I stopped paying attention once you started listing insulting names that could apply to him.”
“‘Course we are. There are only so many words in the English language that could possibly apply to James,” Michelle said. “Though I could start in another language. James, what other languages do you know?”
“Miss Quinn, what could possibly be so important in that note on your desk that you felt you needed to read it in class?”
Erin’s entire face warmed significantly, and she looked up in horror at Sister Michael standing in front of the class. Maybe, she hoped, maybe there was another Miss Quinn in class. Maybe someone new? Someone she hadn’t ever noticed before but sat right behind her, and also had been looking at a note?
“Whatever it is must be so consequential that the whole class would benefit,” Sister Michael continued, and Erin felt sick to her stomach.
“No, Sister. Not at all. Nothing important here,” she said quickly.
Sister Michael crossed her arms. “Oh, I disagree. Stand up and read it to the class.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary, Sister,” Erin said.
“Miss Quinn.”
The ice in her tone made Erin stand up, and she opened the note she had crumpled with shaking hands. She could see Michelle’s grinning face out of the corner of her eye. She had never hated anyone more than she hated Michelle in this moment.
“The note, um, starts with a word that I don’t think I should say, so I’m just going to skip that,” Erin said, trying to keep her head high despite how much she wanted to melt into her seat and die. Motherfucker, the note started. “We are finding you a... good looking person after school today. Have it on good authority some, um… some very attractive, well. Attractive males will be—”
“I will stop you there, Miss Quinn,” Sister Michael said, and Erin could have cried in relief. She wasn't sure how she was going to edit the rest of Michelle's note, which got progressively dirtier as it went on. “I actually can’t tell if it was more painful for you to say that or me to have to hear it. Sit down. And no more passing notes in my class.”
Erin crashed down into her seat, her head falling onto her desk with a light thump . She was sure her face was still scarlet, and whatever illness had come over her was ravaging her body. Her knees were shaking.
She glanced up at Michelle through the gaps in her fingers.
Her friend had the gall to be grinning back at her, making kissing faces at her while Sister Michael went on with their lesson.
She was going to murder Michelle.
“I can’t believe it’s come to this,” Michelle said dramatically. Erin, laying on her bed with her head hanging off the edge, glared at her friend. She wondered if her glaring, being upside-down as it was, would actually have the impact she wanted it to. Not that Michelle cared at all if Erin glared at her, or protested, or hit her with something, or really anything.
She was never going to fucking let this go.
“If you can’t find a fella to kiss you, then I guess it’s going to have to be me.”
Erin sat up quickly, turning fast. “What was that, Michelle?”
“You heard me. You won’t kiss a fella, so if we are going to get you past this, I guess I’m going to have to be your first kiss. Once you’ve had one, the rest should be a lot easier. That’s how it worked with me. I won’t like it, but I’ll do it.”
“Like hell you are,” Erin said hotly.
“If any of us was going to give Erin her first kiss, shouldn’t it be me?” Clare asked, and Erin spun to look at her as if she had stabbed her. “At least I like girls.”
Michelle frowned. “You haven’t been kissed, either, Clare. It would be like the blind leading the blind up here. Neither of you would have any idea of what would be happening, and I don’t want to see that.”
Erin gaped at Michelle. There were so many things wrong with her assessment, she didn’t even know where to start. “What makes you think you’d be watching?”
“We have to make sure it actually happened,” Michelle answered. “You’ve already proven yourself a mouth, willing to make someone up just to throw us off.”
“She’s right, Erin,” Clare said, and Erin gasped. She wanted to say Et tu, Clare? as she clutched a hand over her heart. The nerve of her so-called friends, coming after her like this. She had rights! She had boundaries! There are some things friends just shouldn’t be watching!
Michelle carried on like Erin wasn’t reacting at all to their conversation. “Anyway, it can't just be me and James who have kissed or been kissed. That’s just weird.”
“And why’s that?” Erin asked.
“Who’s to say I haven’t been kissed?” Orla asked. Michelle’s response to Erin’s question died on her lips as they all turned to look at Orla.
James was the first one to speak. Possibly the only one brave enough to actually ask her about it. “Have… have you?”
Orla shook her head. “Of course. Granda and Uncle Gerry and even me own da, I’m sure.”
“That’s not the type of kissing we’re talking about, Orla,” Clare informed her gently.
Orla shrugged. “I know. I just don’t see what the big deal is. It’s all just kissing.”
“I agree with Orla,” Erin said. “What does it even matter? It will happen when it happens!”
Michelle opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then paused. Erin waited, her mind coming up with every possible argument Michelle could make. Maybe she would say something about Erin being behind, romantically speaking. But just because she didn’t make out with every boy that crossed her path didn’t mean there was something wrong with her. She was just a romantic at heart, and she just hadn’t found the right fella yet. Maybe he wasn’t even from Derry. Maybe she would find him somewhere else. Like Belfast. Or Donegal.
Or London.
She glanced over at James, who was looking at her with a mixture of laughter and sympathy. She smiled back at him, ever so briefly.
“You want to get kissed, right?” Michelle asked, finally.
Erin was taken aback. “I… yeah. Of course I want to be kissed, Michelle. I just want my first kiss to be, you know. Special.”
Michelle rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t have to be special, Erin. No first kiss is ever special. You just do it to get it over with so you can start riding anyone who tickles your bits.”
“Michelle!” Clare exclaimed, her eyes wide. “Keep it down! What if Erin’s ma heard you?”
“As if she doesn’t know what it’s like to get a ride,” Michelle said. “I mean, Erin exists. So does her sister.”
“That’s it!” Erin said. If her ma even caught wind of anything they were saying in here, she would be grounded until the day she died and then she would never be kissed. Or graduate, or leave Derry, or do literally anything with her life. Her ma would literally outlive her just to make sure she never escaped from her room. “Out ! All of you, get out. We’re done for tonight, I will see you in the morning for school. Including you, Orla.”
Orla, who had picked up Erin’s diary and settled down in her favorite corner to read it, scowled. “Fine. But I’m keeping this.”
Her friends gathered up their stuff, packing bags under her strict supervision.
“I’m only saying—” Michelle started, and Erin swatted her arm.
“Shift it,” she said, pushing Michelle out of her room. Clare followed Michelle out quickly, and Orla waltzed out, Erin’s diary still in her hand. She would have to deal with that later.
“Sorry about Michelle,” James said quietly as he gathered the last of his things.
“You don't need to apologize for her,” Erin said. “I’ve known her for too long to be surprised.”
He laughed a bit. “Still,” he said as they walked out of Erin’s room and toward the stairs. “She’s been out of line lately, with all the focus on you. She shouldn’t be pushing you to get kissed if you’re not ready.”
Erin sighed. “It’s not that I’m not ready. I mean, it would be nice to kind of get it out of the way. I feel like I’ve built it up to be this big thing. Maybe Michelle’s right. Maybe it doesn’t need to be special.”
She pulled the door open and he reached over her head, holding it for her while she walked out ahead of him. Erin could hear Clare and Michelle walking down the street, talking loudly as they went.
“You know,” James said, and for some reason the tone of his voice made her stop and look at him, “if you really want to get it out of the way, and if you felt comfortable with it, I could, um. I could kiss you.”
“What do—”
“It’s just, I am a boy. And I have been kissed before, so I like to think I know what I’m doing.”
She stared up at him. He looked nervous, and she could swear she saw a bit of a blush on his cheeks that was definitely deepening the longer that she eyed him. She would be lying if she said that he wasn’t cute, or that the way the soft light of her front door lit up his green eyes wasn’t enticing.
“This was a bad idea, I see that now,” he said quickly, looking pointedly away from her face. “Please forget I ever said anything and please don’t tell Mich—”
“Would you really want to?” she asked. Her own voice was softer than she expected it to be.
That shut him up quickly. He looked down at her, appearing as astonished as she felt. She wasn’t even sure what had come over her, to be honest. But once he suggested it, she wanted it.
He glanced around for a second, turning his head quickly over his shoulder, in the direction of Michelle and Clare’s voices.
And then he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. One of his hands found its way to the small of her back, and the other was warm against her face, the tips of his fingers in her hair.
Butterflies exploded in her stomach.
Erin closed her eyes and kissed him back. Her hands were on his waist, steadying her as he pulled her a little closer. She rocked into him, rising to the tips of her toes so she could get closer to him and his lips.
When he pulled away, she was breathless. She wanted to touch her lips, which were still tingling a bit. Is this what kissing felt like? Is this why people like it so much? All she wanted to do was do it again. And again.
She looked up at him. James was smiling softly at her.
He then quickly turned, rushing off to catch up with his cousin and Clare. She watched him go, and her hand did go to her lips then.
She wasn’t sure exactly what she was expecting, but Christ.
Michelle was definitely wrong when she said no first kiss was special.