Everybody loves a clown

I have to admit, not a lot happened on the "me and girls" front after that kiss on camp. In fact, it wasn't until some months later, after I had finished primary school and gone on to High School that I even came close to repeating it. The girl who had kissed me had pretty much abandoned the idea of hanging out with me, as soon as the other boys could walk with some kind of dignity again. But that was okay. Kissing was, it seemed both exciting and pretty disgusting at the same time. Especially if there were, as I had heard tell, tongues involved. I didn't really know why I did it, I didn't even like that girl particularly. It just seemed like the thing to do. Like on TV.

So high school arrived. A completely different life to the one I had known up until this point. I think primary school takes toddlers and turns them into individuals. High school takes children and turns them into adults. Mostly. The first thing to note about high school is that I knew all of one person there on the first day. It was both a curse and a blessing. I didn't have to be the same person I had been for the previous seven years, I could be whomever I wanted. Unfortunately, I turned out to be pretty much the same person, regardless. I once again found my own gang of misfits, and the one girl I knew found her way into the popular crowd.

Not that I minded. I had about as much attraction to her as I would have for a cousin or other such wallpaper person. There were plenty of attractive girls for me to try my luck at wooing. Of course, I had no idea how I got my first kiss, so could hardly improve on my technique. The only thing I was sure of was that I could make them laugh. Though I wasn't completely typecast by my earlier school experience as a class clown, I was familiar with the thrill of inspiring laughter in the class. Make 'em laugh, they leave you alone, for the most part. Of course, you don't want to take that too far and become the butt of the joke, you have to balance the clowning with some self respect. And there's nothing for your cred like being sent to the principals office.

So, I'd sit near the girls I liked, make them laugh from time to time, but not too much they got annoyed when they were trying to concentrate. Obviously, I was, along with pretty much every other guy in the place, attracted to the "hot" girls. The overdeveloped young ladies who were embarrassed at the attention their newly blooming bodies drew from the boys, and quietly hurt by the bitchiness of the girls still waiting to begin their own journey into womanhood. Still, despite my fantasies, the girls I chose to focus my attention on were not those popular types, but the quietly pretty ones, who did their homework on time, put their hands up to speak, knew all the answers. The nerdy girls.

And one in particular. She had long dark hair, always pulled back tight in a pony tail and big straight teeth and deep, brown eyes that flashed when she smiled at my jokes. She had exotically olive skin, despite being as Angloriginal as the First Fleet, and the most endearing dimples that appeared before her lips parted to talk or laugh. Not too tall, not too short, not skinny, not overdeveloped, not fat, not too sporty, not too dull, not too nasty. Just twelve years old, pretty much. But she was the first one I actually felt something for.

One day, I recall sitting in class and something changed, after which making her laugh and smile became more important than anything else. One grey wintery afternoon, waiting for a teacher to arrive for class, I made a joke quietly, leaning in to speak into her ear then sitting back on my chair. She laughed honestly, opening her mouth and rocking gently, as her musical laugh began loudly and tapered off. While a smile hung on her face, her gaze caught my eye and held it tightly. For the first time ever my stomach dropped away below ground level, and was dragged back up full of a swirling flock of starlings. I broke a sudden sweat, and my throat went dry as her smile flattened to nothing, but her eyes were still locked on mine when the teacher's voice broke the spell.

I had no idea what that meant. I was sick, but the sickness made me happy. I did not know what to do with that feeling except I knew I wanted more of it. I needn't have worried.