Chapter 3 - The First Kiss I Chose Not to Give

After several months of that same under-the-table flirtation, and as the big quinceañera party date approached, my patience was wearing thin. I was still waiting for something to happen—something all my classmates had already experienced and that I had almost lived on that wall outside my house. But to my dismay, I found out—right in the middle of the party—that the man who made me feel like jelly with his emotional push and pull had a beautiful girlfriend he'd been with for years.

That night, after my heart shattered into a thousand pieces, I tried to comfort myself by thinking that must've been the reason why he didn't dare kiss me—he was trying to avoid stealing my first kiss, knowing there was no future for us. Yes, that man saved me from becoming "the other woman" unintentionally, and for that, I was eternally grateful. In every book I'd ever read, "the other woman" was always cruel, manipulative, and shameless—someone who got in between couples just to steal the man and make the heroine cry. And clearly, I didn't want to be that person.

So with a bit of sadness, I decided not to see him again and to focus on what I was genuinely good at: studying and reading.

Three years went by since the last time I'd felt anything for a man—at least involuntarily. I was now in the final year of high school, getting ready for the mandatory internships designed to give us a taste of what real job demands felt like. Thankfully, I was able to do my internship at a different institution, which somehow made me feel right at home.

There, we weren't allowed to wear casual clothes—we had to wear uniforms. But I have to admit, that didn't bother me. Unlike many of my classmates, I didn't alter my uniform to make it look like it came straight out of an adult film. No! Mine was the right length, down to the knee, and my bib stayed where it belonged: on my chest, not tucked under the skirt to create other visual effects.

At that institution, I had the chance to meet a teacher who was also a lawyer. Talking with him during breaks became the highlight of my day. I was deeply attracted to his brilliant mind; his eloquence allowed us to talk for hours. Even though I didn't have his level of knowledge, he listened to my opinions, respected them, and gently corrected me when he thought I was wrong.

In one of our many conversations, we stopped talking about politics, law, and school life and began discussing more personal topics: his life, my life, my aspirations. I started looking forward to school ending just so I could get to my internship and have more time to know this man who had me absolutely fascinated. And let me clarify—it wasn't his looks. He was an ordinary man, with nothing striking about his appearance. But the way he spoke, the way he expressed himself, the way he made you feel like the most important person in the world when he listened... that was priceless.

Okay, maybe that came with the job, but it also felt natural. Like we say in my country: "He had a certain something, somewhere... but he had me totally hooked."

It was almost the end of the school year, and thus the end of our internships. That day, I decided to put a little more effort into my appearance. I wanted his last impression of me to be a lasting one.

—Hi, good afternoon —I said with a smile as I stood in front of his desk, our usual spot for break-time conversations.

—Hellooo! —he replied, dragging the vowel, lifting his eyes to look at me. I was still in uniform, but I had put on some makeup—which I never did. I also wore a strawberry-flavored lip gloss that smelled and tasted amazing (yes, I tried it; it was impossible not to. I don't know how they made it, but it became a guilty pleasure because I kept licking it off). I'd also let my hair down, something I rarely did.

—You look beautiful —he said, as if the words had slipped out. He quickly lowered his head, but I saw him blush at his comment—. I mean... with all due respect.

—I know... thanks for saying it. I mean... I know you mean it respectfully —I replied, laughing nervously. Where did that silly laugh come from? Focus, girl! He's just a man, not a crush—. But I really appreciate it. I don't get compliments often, to be honest.

He looked at me in surprise.

—How's that possible? You're beautiful even in uniform. I can't imagine what you'd look like without it—

He immediately corrected himself, covering his face in embarrassment—. I mean... in regular clothes! Don't get me wrong, that's not what I meant.

—I understood what you meant —I replied, amused by his awkwardness. Yes, the phrase had sounded like a double entendre, but I let it slide—. You're the only one who's ever said something so lovely without an ounce of vulgarity, so... thank you —I added, nervously intertwining my fingers.

—And your boyfriend? Doesn't he tell you how beautiful you are? —he asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

—Honestly... I don't have one —I said. Immediately, he followed up with another question.

—And the last one?

—Honestly... and before you ask about the one before that... I've never had a boyfriend. I've never even had my first kiss —I laughed nervously—. Oh God! What did I just say? Earth, swallow me whole and spit me out in Timbuktu!

He looked at me surprised and smiled, but I couldn't quite read his expression. I wanted to leave quickly, but as I tried to go, he grabbed my arm.

—The students are leaving early today. In fact, the bell rang while we were talking, so they've probably already left. Want to walk with me to my classroom so I can put the chairs in order?

—Sure —I said, though it sounded more like an excuse than a request. His hand didn't let go of my arm, and he kept looking at me, while my heart pounded so loudly I could hear it echoing in my ears.

His hand slid down to mine, intertwining his fingers with mine as he led me to his classroom. We walked in silence, hand in hand, and that made me even more nervous.

—Go on in —he said.

I stepped inside and noticed that everything was already perfectly arranged. I turned around to tell him so, and we ended up face to face. He placed his hands on my waist and rested his forehead against mine. In that instant, an unexpected fear filled my chest. I knew he wouldn't hurt me. I liked him. But a part of me trembled—maybe it was a blocked memory, something from childhood.

—Let me be your first kiss —he whispered.

—Huh? —my heart hammered so hard, I thought I might faint if he weren't holding me. He, a brilliant, educated, confident man... was asking permission to kiss me. I looked into his eyes and saw hope in them, so I nodded, almost on instinct.

His hands slowly moved from my waist to my face, not even grazing my chest, and gently held my cheeks. With his thumbs, he softly caressed them. I tried to relax. I wanted this to happen. I really did. But when I saw him leaning in toward my lips... I looked down.

—I'm sorry... I can't —I whispered, barely audible. He, still cupping my face, kissed me on the forehead. He lingered a few moments, stroking my cheeks, while I rested my hands on his chest.

—Don't apologize. If you're not ready yet, no one should force you —he said, letting me go gently.

I stood on tiptoe, kissed him on the cheek, and walked away.

Much to my regret, the next day he was sent away on a trip, and I finished my internship a week later. We never saw each other again.

I wish I had recorded his words that day. Maybe I would've understood sooner that when someone says "no one should force you to do something you don't want to", they also mean you shouldn't force yourself.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***