Third Time's the Charm

The bass is pounding and beer sloshes over the rim of my cup as I bop, up and down the waves of sound. I try to take a sip, but the cup is still too full and with the jostle of bodies around me, more beer drips over my hand to the floor. At least it's not on my shirt. My nice shirt that I put on for my first real party.

Not making that mistake again. Parties are dirty and sweaty. No one warned me about this, and the school parties have always been nice and clean and carefully supervised. But this is a scouts party and I'm sixteen, so I'm finally allowed to drink beer and go home after midnight. So far, I haven't tasted much of the beer and I just have a sticky hand, the floor similarly sticky under my shoes.

"Don't look," Soraya says, "but Adam is looking at you again."

"He has such a crush on you," Lotte giggles.

"You think so?" Nobody has had a crush on me before and I don't know how to feel about it. There was Stijn in kindergarten, but I never liked him back, and we were five anyway. I'm much older now and I actually know what a crush is. Adam is nice, cool. He told me my hair looked good when I cut it and he asked me to be his dance partner in PE and high-fived me when we did well.

"You should dance with him," Lotte suggests. "Maybe he'll even kiss you. Oh my god, can you imagine? Your first kiss, Astrid!"

I bite my lip and glance back. Adam is talking with his friends. He's good-looking. Nice. Fun. And still – "Do you think I should?" I ask Soraya. "Dancing? And, and kissing?" The idea of kissing him makes me nervous. What if I get it wrong? What if I don't like it? I don't know what the big deal is. It's just lips and mouth and tongue. Why would I want to kiss him – kiss anyone – when I don't even want to drink from his cup? We'd exchange even more spit and bacteria if we kissed.

Soraya stares at him as well, as though she's deeply thinking if Adam is the right guy to get my first kiss. "It's a good moment. He likes you a lot and we're not at school."

"Yeah, don't have your first kiss at school," Lotte chimes in. "You could wait until it's a slower song and then you can put your arms around his neck! That'd be so romantic."

My paper cup dents under my fingers and I take a quick gulp before I spill more beer. It's bitter and I don't know if I like the taste, but it's the cheapest alcohol. It's empty very quickly and I let it sink in while the music pulsates through my body. I don't know how fast alcohol works when I've only ever tasted a sip of wine at Christmas before, but I already feel looser. Less nervous.

"Let's go to the bathroom. I want to wash my hands." I hook my non-sticky arm around Soraya's elbow, who does the same with Lotte. I press closer to her as we push through the cloud. Her arm is warm and soft and much more muscled than mine, even though Lotte is the only one of us who does a sport, and she does gymnastics. A crowded party is not made for our line of three, but I don't let go, even when we're standing in line, cups thrown into the large thrash bag on the wall.

"Maybe you should braid my hair after we've gone," I muse. "I don't want to be all sweaty and smelly from dancing if he kisses me." I discreetly try to sniff my armpit. It might already be a lost cause, but I like it when Soraya braids my hair. She always runs her fingers gently over my head, separating the strands, and whenever she brushes my neck, a tingle runs down my spine.

"Maybe he likes your smell and he'll want to smell your neck when he's kissed you." Soraya leans in and sniffs my hair. "Your hair smells nice."

"Soraya!" Lotte yells. "That's gross. Nobody likes the smell of sweat. I think a braid would look nice. Maybe Adam will want to kiss your neck."

I shudder. Spit and tongue on my neck? "That's not any better than him liking my sweat. That's like he's licking my sweat!" It's a mystery to me why anyone would ever want a hickey. It's just gross and ugh. I shudder again.

"But it's sexy," Lotte argues. "If Amir wanted to kiss me, I'd lick the sweat of his neck."

"Ew! You don't need to tell us that!" I swat at her, but Soraya is between us, so I'm just flapping my hand in the air.

"Okay, but when Adam kisses you, I want to know how it was. We need to know what it's like to kiss a guy. Every detail."

"I'll tell you," I promise. "But don't be weird about it. I'm telling you because you're my best friends, okay? And I'm not going to lick him or anything gross like that. Just a kiss. If he wants to kiss me."

"Of course he'll want to kiss you," Soraya jumps in. "You're very kissable. I'll give you a nice French braid."

I smile at her in thanks, but I don't know if 'kissable' is something I want to be. Are there boys who look at me and want to kiss me? Does Adam look at me and want to kiss me when we are talking or when we were dancing? Will he be thinking about kissing me while we dance now? Dancing is okay. Dancing is fun. But if I imagine a boy feeling desire for me – if I imagine Adam picturing a kiss with me – I feel weird. I don't know if I want that. What if he imagines more than kissing?

That thought tastes sour like bile, and I swallow it back down. Adam is nice. I'm here to have fun at my first party. A first kiss is exciting! Lotte wants to have her first kiss, but a boy likes me. It's not every day that someone likes you, it's romantic, it means I'm special. And it's not any boy, but a boy who is kind and fun and has a nice face. I shouldn't be so nervous about a first kiss.

While Soraya braids my hair, I wonder what it'll feel like, kissing Adam. Will his lips be firm or dry or soft? I didn't put on any lipstick, but maybe he uses lip balm. Do lips have a natural flavour? We'll bump our noses, I bet. Soraya's fingers are tangled in my hair, twining. Will Adam brush his fingers through my hair? Will my scalp tingle? Will I get goosebumps from kissing? I have goosebumps now, even though it's hot in the room from all the bodies pressing together, sweating under the lamps. Adam has the first hints of a beard, so that might prickle. I've never liked that when I kiss uncle Kristof's cheek, but maybe it's different if you kiss on the lips? If it's a guy you like, and not an old man.

Soraya pulls strands back behind my ears and I suppress a shiver. It almost tickles, but it's too firm for that. I could sink into these sensations, as if she's hypnotising me. Sometimes when we hang out, I'll sit on the ground and she'll sit on the back and I'll lean back against her legs, while she strokes my hair and we talk. I always feel less stressed afterwards, warm and almost floaty.

But it's not just the two of us right now. Soraya finishes off my braid and holds the end tight. "Do you have a hair tie?"

"I have one," Lotte says, and she takes one off her wrist.

Now I'm all presentable to go out dancing and seduce Adam into kissing me. He's still talking and drinking with his friends. I exhale slowly.

Lotte pushes me between my shoulders. "Go on," she hisses. "Ask him."

"Good luck," Soraya says, and she smiles when I look back.

"Hey," I say, coming up next to Adam.

His face lights up. "Astrid! I didn't know you were here."

"I am." I don't look at his friends before I lose my nerve. "Would you like to dance?"

"Dance with you?"

"Yeah."

"You're not expecting me to do anything difficult, right?"

I chuckle. He still hasn't said yes. "I can't do anything difficult."

"Great. Sounds good. I, uhm ..." He looks down at his cup and then around for a place to put it.

"Give it here, you idiot." Karel snatches it from Adam's hand. "I'll dump it in the trash. Go dance."

Adam grabs my hand and we move into the dancing crowd. At first we don't really dance like a couple. I'm just improvising moves that match the music while watching him do the same. But gradually we move closer, nudged by the crowd that would separate us if we didn't do so. Adam is looking at me, and I try to be sexy and seductive. I'm not sure what is sexy to a boy, but I try to move my hips and twirl my skirt and pout my lips. When I jump, my boobs jiggle in my bra, but that feels uncomfortable, so I stop doing it.

"You look really nice tonight," Adam says.

I blush and stare somewhere beyond his face. "Thank you. You too."

When I look back at him, his hand hovers above my shoulder. "Can I?"

I swallow and nod because I'm not sure my mouth can form words right now, when my lips and tongue feel heavy and swollen and tense in anticipation of a kiss. Adam's hand lands on my shoulder and it's warm and heavy. I wish I hadn't worn a sleeveless shirt because half his hand is touching my skin, and that feels like too much. Skin on skin is intimate, and this hand on my shoulder is the prelude to his hands on my waist or my hips or other places on my body. But I don't want the rest of my body involved in a kiss with him. I just want to have my first kiss, nothing more.

So before Adam can do anything else, I grab his shoulder for balance and push up on my toes. Our lips bump, short and dry, but when I want to lower my heel, Adam's tongue sweeps out, licking my mouth. I gasp, and now his tongue is in my mouth. It's wet and too big and I don't want it in my mouth. It's like a ... a slug. I almost gag in disgust.

I break the kiss and try not to swallow. I want to spit everything out and drink something to wash away the sensations and wipe my mouth, which is wet from spit. Adam looks happy and pleased and a little confused.

"Sorry," I blurt. "Cramps."

Adam frowns. "Cramps?" His face hasn't changed, but I can barely look him in the eye. Being near him is sending me pulsing sense-memories of that kiss, and I want to be far away.

"From standing. On my toes." It could almost be true. I shake my leg and stretch my foot, hopping onto my other foot. I can't stand still when I want to run. Adam reaches out and I stumble back. His face creases and my heart clenches. He's a nice guy, he really is. I wouldn't mind a date with him. We could have fun. But my stomach tightens with dread at the idea of another kiss.

"Sorry," I say. I don't want to hurt him, but I can't stay here. "I think I drank too much. Toilet." And then I turn and rush to the bathroom. I pay no mind to elbows and cups and now my shirt is dirty. I hope it doesn't stain permanently. It's only when I see the queue that's no shorter than an hour ago that I realise this is not going to give me the escape that I want. I don't see Adam in the crowd behind me, but if he wanted to talk, he could find me here easily. I'm going to need more distance, because I don't want to explain what happened. I'm not sure I even know.

Outside, the night air is chilly and I shiver without a jacket. I'm lucky it's not raining. Down on the grass field, there's a group of older people smoking and laughing. I can still hear the music inside, spilling out the open doors, but the safety of my friends seems far away with these strangers nearby. I head the other way and stick to the shadows, hugging myself.

A giggle escapes, sounding almost like a hiccup. I'm teetering on the edge between crying and laughing. What the hell was that? That's not how you act when you kiss someone, Astrid! I don't know whether that means something's wrong with me or Adam's a really bad kisser. So bad I'm definitely not willing to try again.

I think that means something is wrong with me. Or that I don't like Adam very much. But I do! I have every reason to like him. And yet. Maybe I'm a late bloomer. Maybe it would be better without tongue. I don't know. Even if I knew how to explain that to Adam, my stomach turns over if I imagine another kiss, no matter how chaste.

"Astrid!"

I turn and Soraya is standing in front of the doors. Lotte steps outside and joins her in calling for me.

"Here," I reply.

"What happened?" Lotte blurts out. "I thought everything was going well."

Soraya puts a hand on my arm, just above where I'm still cupping my elbows. "You're cold. Don't you want to go back inside?" I shake my head and she steps closer, throwing an arm around my shoulder. She's also wearing a T-shirt like me, but her hand is still warm and my other arm presses into the side of her boobs and the warm hollow of her armpit.

My head drops and my chin touches her collarbone. I want to rub my cold cheek over her shoulder and bury my face in her neck. "I'm fine," I mutter. It doesn't sound convincing.

"Did he say something? Or do something?" Soraya asks.

"I will go inside right now and knee him where it hurts," Lotte threatens.

I crack up. "No, he was nice. It's not his fault. I think I hurt him more by running."

"So why did you run?" Soraya sounds genuinely curious.

"It's stupid. But I didn't like it."

"The kiss?"

"Everything. His tongue and his stubble and his hands and just doing it. It was awful. I never want to try that again."

"Maybe he's just a very bad kisser," Lotte suggests. "Jessica told me that her first kiss wasn't very good, but it got better once she started kissing guys with more experience."

"I don't know." I can't imagine Lotte's older sister running away from a kiss. She never hesitates to say what's on her mind, even more than Lotte, and she's not shy about sex stuff. She literally was the one to sit us down and have 'the talk' last year, but less awkward and way more detailed than our parents ever would have done. "I don't have any experience, so maybe I'm the bad kisser and that's why it was bad."

"I'm sure it was not your fault," Lotte assures me. It's sweet, even when I can't believe this was Adam's fault. He did nothing wrong. "You'll get better at it."

"But I don't want to do it again. I don't want to kiss any guy again." Saying it out loud makes it true. Now that I know what it's like, kissing has lost the little appeal it had.

"Maybe you should just become a lesbian." Lotte laughs. "I bet girls are better kissers."

I laugh too. I love my friends so much. "I should have just kissed one of you for my first kiss. So I wouldn't have this trauma now."

Lotte holds her hands up. "Not me. I'm saving mine for Amir."

"You're such a romantic."

"What about it?" Lotte poses coyly. "Don't pretend you're not secretly a romantic. You also wanted your first kiss to be with a guy you liked."

"And look how that turned out." I gesture at the three of us shivering in the night air, hiding in the shadows instead of having fun inside. "Wish I could redo that."

"You can have a first kiss with a girl," Soraya says. "I don't mind."

I turn on her, my eyes widening. "Really? But it's your first kiss, too."

"I don't need to save my first kiss for someone. It doesn't need to be 'a thing'." She shrugs as if it's no big deal at all. Maybe it isn't. I've already had my first kiss, so it's no longer special. I can just kiss whoever I want, even if it's my best friend.

"You don't think it will be weird?" I try to imagine what it'd be like, kissing Soraya. Better than kissing Adam, but I can't pin down any details beyond that vague shape of 'same but better', beyond the warmth of her body and her arm still currently pressing me close. It must be cleaner. Less invasive. More comfortable. There's nobody else I trust as much as Soraya.

"It's not weird if we don't make it weird."

"You're just erasing the memory of that bad kiss," Lotte joins in. "So you're better prepared next time. It's like practice, it doesn't count."

I look at Soraya, who gazes back at me. In the shadows, her dark brown eyes seem black and serious. She's not smiling, but she seems calm, as if this is really no different from hugging or braiding my hair. "I can't believe you really would kiss me. You don't think it'll be weird because we don't like each other like that?" I'm protesting, but I've already latched onto the idea. What's one more bad kiss tonight? It's my first party. That's the right moment to make weird choices. At least it'll be with my best friend.

Soraya huffs out a breath that I feel on my cheek. "If you keep asking, you're making it weird."

Lotte giggles. "It's not a big deal. I think it's a good idea."

I nod, and then I nod again and again. "Okay." My voice comes out too loud and my heart beats insistently in my chest. "Okay." I dislodge Soraya's arm. "We're doing this." I laugh. "How –"

Soraya puts her hand on my shoulder. "I'll just – Okay?"

"No tongue. Just – short. It doesn't need to be –" I want to say 'good', but that's not right. I want this to be better than the kiss with Adam. I don't want to stop, because I feel light and full of possibilities. But I don't want it to be ... too much. Something that takes or demands. Something that taints our friendship. "I just want to know if it's Adam or me."

"I'm not going to try anything," Soraya huffs. "I don't know what I'm doing more than you. If I tried anything fancy, I'd just do it wrong and make it bad for you."

"Okay. No bad kissing." I close my eyes and lean forward. I blindly reach out and my hand lands on Soraya's chest and I slide to the side, grabbing her arm. I purse my lips. I'm ready now, but the kiss doesn't come yet. Am I doing it wrong? I flatten my mouth, try to smile and open my eyes and that's the moment when Soraya's nose bumps into my cheek and her lips press into mine for two full seconds. Her lips are chapped and her nose is colder than my cheek and I shiver, gaze caught on a pimple next to her nose, her eyelashes barely visible on her brown skin.

Soraya leans back and her hands fall to her sides. I shiver again, from the cold and ... something. I don't want to be alone. Even a single step seems too far. For a fraction of a moment, our dry lips had stuck together and that seemed like a sign to keep kissing. But it's over and we can't redo it.

"That was much better," I blurt. "You're softer." I touch my lips, erasing the phantom kiss I could still feel.

Soraya giggles and wraps her arms around herself. "Yeah?" She licks her lips and I wrench my gaze away. What if she had kissed me with tongue? Would I have liked that too? My stomach clenches at the mere thought, but what if? I didn't think any kiss could be okay, after Adam.

"Of course she is," Lotte says. "She's a girl. And she's not some uncultured swine that tramples all over you."

"Adam is not a swine." I sound strangely dispassionate to my own ears, disconnected from my body. My thoughts and feelings seem to move slowly, only just within reach.

"But he's not a good kisser. You liked this, so it wasn't your fault that you didn't like it. He was doing it wrong."

"It was his first kiss, too, I think. Maybe I should apologise for running away." I don't know if I can muster the words tonight to do that. Not if I don't want him to try again. We'll need to break up, when we never even went on a date.

"You can do that later," Soraya says and I nod in relief. "Do you want to go back inside? Or do you want to go home?"

I hesitate. I want to go back. It's my first party and I want to have fun, maybe have another drink than beer, dance with Soraya and Lotte. But if we go inside, Adam or his friends might see me and approach me and I don't know if I can deal with that. I'm jittery, tense. My head is full of cottonwool and I want to put on soft pyjamas and curl up in my bed and put on music, so I can stare at the ceiling until I fall asleep.

I shake my head. "Home. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Lotte counters. "We can go to other parties when this whole mess is behind us and you can ignore all the stupid boys."

I laugh. "Yeah, I don't think I'm kissing anyone for a while." I glance at Soraya. "No offence."

"I'll call my mum," she says. "She'll be happy that she won't have to stay up late."

***

At 8 am on Saturday morning, I'm wide awake and dead tired. I've slept, but only in fits. My brain keeps churning, but I can't form any clear thought or feeling. Somehow, I've had two first kisses in one night. One was awful and the other ... I don't know what Soraya's kiss means. Did I like it? Was Adam a bad kisser? Can I like kissing or do I hate it? Do I only hate it if there's tongue involved? Do I only like it if it's a girl? Can I sit next to Soraya and not think about it?

I can't even stop thinking about it now, when I'm all alone and there's nobody who thinks I should kiss anyone. I didn't mind kissing Soraya, but I'm not sure kissing is for me. It was nice, but so is cuddling, or Soraya braiding my hair, or lying on my bed together for hours and listening to music without saying a word. I want that moment, but I don't need the kiss. But what else could I want? Everyone likes kissing.

"Hey," I text. "Are you awake?" I put my phone screen-down on the bed and close my eyes, but it's barely been a minute when it chimes.

"With my eyes closed and still in bed. You're up early."

I type and retype a response. "I couldn't sleep."

"Too fired up?"

"Kinda. Thinking." When the text bubble pops up, I quickly add: "You wanna hang out today?" The text bubble disappears and I wait. It can't have been long, but it feels long. My best friend shouldn't be making me so nervous.

"Sure," pops onto my screen. It doesn't calm my nerves.

I lie in bed for another hour, until my parents wake up. It's plenty of time to beat my Candy Crush score and not nearly enough time to come to any different conclusion than a big question mark. Standing under the shower, I look down at my body and try to feel something. Whatever other girls feel when they look at men. Desire to kiss. Desire to touch and be touched.

My mind stays blank. Even if I stick to holding hands, to snuggling up close or hugging, there's no boy to fill up that blank space in the image. If I try to imagine anything else, kissing with tongue, someone touching my boobs or down between my legs, that too becomes a blank spot.

I close my eyes and let the water stream down over my face. What if I imagine a girl? I draw up the image of a girl, with short dark hair, a nice smile. Someone I could like. She steps closer to me, kissing me. Her mouth opens, as if she's sucking on my lips, and her tongue wriggles into my mouth. The image slips away and I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter. Her hand reaches out, touching my boob, and her other hands slips down my side, over my hip, to my inner thigh.

My foot slips and I hit my elbow against the wall before I can steady myself. Yeah, it's not better if it's a girl. It's not even neutral-nice like Soraya's kiss. Now that I've had the image in my mind, it's hard to shake it loose and I feel dirty. I can't kiss a boy without wanting to vomit, but I can't be a lesbian either. What does that say about me?

I hurry through breakfast and I'm glad mum and dad don't question why I'm quiet and not talking about last night. They probably think I'm hungover, when I barely had one beer. But at this point, I just want to get to Soraya's house and put my head on her shoulder and maybe we'll talk, when I can pull a sentence from the mess in my head.

It's raining and the ten-minute bike ride is enough to plaster the hair against my forehead that sticks out from under my hood. The water also seeps into my shoes and I breathe through the urge to cry. Soraya must have been waiting by the window because she opens the door before I've even had the chance to text her.

"Do you need a towel?"

I consider, dripping onto the floor of the hallway as I take off my jacket and shoes. "Maybe? Can I borrow some socks from you?" I hold up my foot, where the top half of my sock down to my heel has darkened in colour from the water.

"I'll get you some pants, too. You're not keeping those on all morning until they're dry."

Soraya's dad brings me a mop and I climb up the stairs to the bathroom on my bare feet, without leaving a trail of watery footsteps. Soraya has brought me loose pyjama pants and thick fluffy socks and a washcloth and towel. I look at myself in the mirror for a moment, before I leave. I've worn Soraya's clothes dozens of times, and she mine, but it feels weird now. An intimacy I don't deserve.

Soraya is sitting on her bed and I stop in the doorway, looking at her. She's put on socks that match with mine and her curls hang loose and uncombed around her face. "Why are you waiting over there?" She pats the bed. "Sit."

I sink down with enough space for a full person between us, but on second thought, I shuffle closer until we're sitting arm to arm as we usually do. Soraya has a dozen pillows on her bed, but my upper back and head still lean against the wall. I stare at the star mobile hanging from Soraya's lamp, slowly swaying and coming to a standstill after I set it moving by walking through the room.

Music starts playing and Soraya puts her phone down on the bed. I close my eyes and lower my head to her shoulder. The corner of it digs into my neck, but I uncoil, hand slipping down from my lap until it rests between our thighs. I could fall asleep like this; I'm tired enough for it.

"Are you feeling weird about the kiss?" Soraya's voice sounds loud so close to my ear and I gently bump my head against her shoulder before sitting up. If we're talking about this, I want to see her face. Maybe we can make this quick. Soraya is being casual, so I just need to get over myself.

I draw my knees up and rest my chin on them. It puts my eyes somewhere around Soraya's neck, which is perfect until she does the same and I can't avoid her gaze that is now level with mine. I lower my eyes and pull on the hem of a pant leg that rode up and now exposes my skin to the air.

"I don't think I want to kiss any guys. Or anything." I look through my lashes at her face. Her dark brown eyes always look too serious and sad for her soft and round face, the kind of cheeks that are made for smiles. I want to spend an hour untangling her uncombed hair that sticks to her face, but I don't think I'll get the chance. She doesn't seem angry that I used her and that I'm making it weird, but it's still weird between us and it's my fault.

"Who says you need to?"

I shrug. "Nobody?"

Soraya looks at me, but I can't hold her gaze for long. It feels very naked. She reaches behind her for her phone and pauses the music. Not looking at me, she says: "I'm never going to kiss a boy. Not even going to try."

"Really?" I straighten up. "Why not?"

Soraya shoots me a look. "Because I'm a lesbian, duh. Why else?"

"Oh." I deflate. Soraya keeps looking at me, as if she's waiting for something, and then it clicks. "Is that why you wanted to kiss me?" Soraya huffs and doesn't reply. "You like me?" I ask, but I already know the answer to that too.

"It's fine if you don't like me," Soraya offers. "We can stay friends."

"Wouldn't that suck?" If she likes me, it seems cruel if I would ask her to braid my hair, if she would lie with her head on my chest and I would draw patterns on her back. I'm not sure I could do that, but I don't want to stop. Putting distance between us would be like cutting off my hand: I could live with it, but I'd need to learn how to function all over again. I would always know what it's like to have two hands.

"Not staying friends would suck more."

I nod. "Yeah. I don't want that." I put my knees down and crawl closer. I still want to lie on Soraya's bed with her and listen to music for hours. Maybe it would be okay if it's her. If it's anybody, it's her. Kissing wasn't so bad when it was her.

Sitting back on my heels, I'm taller than Soraya and she looks up at me with big eyes. I know her face better than mine and I don't want her to look sad or resigned. I want her to smile, to look at me every day so I can never doubt how much she likes me, even if we don't say a word.

"What are you doing?" she asks and it comes out slightly breathless.

"Do you think you can be a lesbian if you don't want body stuff? Sex. Or tongue kissing. But I like hugs." Hugs, and maybe kisses like the one we had, and everything we already do. I would very much like more of that.

"Huh?"

"Maybe we should kiss again. I think we should try."

"But you don't like kissing." I laugh at Soraya's confusion. She's cute like this. She's always cute. Right now, it seems obvious what I want to do. Easy and nice and not bad at all.

"But I like you. I think. Or love you. If you can do that when you don't want ... all of that. I like being close to you."

"Oh. I like that too." Soraya's lips slowly curve into a smile. I think this is my moment.

So I lean down, and kiss her.

***

Author's Note: This story is actually inspired by a true story. When I was 16, I went on an exchange to Italy with some other people from my school. One of the Italian guys liked one of the girls from my school and he was very sweet about it. When we were on a trip somewhere in Italy, he bought a rose from a street vendor and gave it to her. She wasn't sure if she liked him like that, but at some point, she decided to go for it and during our free time on that trip, she kissed him. And afterwards she came to her friends and our teachers because she hadn't liked the kiss. I'm no longer sure about the details of why. I'm also unsure how that progressed to the next point, but she kissed one of her friends (very chastely, barely more than a peck) then and she commented that she liked that better. I don't know if she's actually queer, but it was a nice moment for closeted queer me. I can also relate as an ace person who likely wouldn't like kissing.