My first kiss was with Ben Newcombe. We were 11. I'm pretty sure it was his first kiss too.
We used to hang out on a bunch of sand dunes (or so we called them) near our respective houses. A bunch of sand had been dumped on a piece of swampy-ish land to compress the soil before building an ice rink on it.
We just thought the dunes were great for leaping off of.
Then, one day, we were sitting on top of one dune, chatting about whatever it is that 11-year-olds chat about, and Ben leaned over and kissed me. Full on the lips.
So I pushed him.
He wasn't hurt badly, but he did cry. I didn't mean to hurt him. I'm still not sure why I did it – it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
I found out years later that Ben is gay. I'm sure the first girl he kissed pushing him off a sand-dune didn't have anything to do with that though.