Fresh FIction Box Not To Miss
Jennifer Banash | Summer Lovin’
Uncategorized / July 15, 2008

I had my first kiss at summer camp when I was twelve. 

 He was tall, with amazing green eyes, deeply tanned, and had the kind of white blond hair you usually only see on toddlers and the body of a swimmer—lithe, sinewy, and ever so faintly muscled. His hair had a slightly green tinge from the excessive chlorine in the pool, which I now think is kind of gross, but back then I just thought it made him even sexier. I had drooled over him all summer long, looking away and staring at my feet whenever his green eyes moved in my direction, So when I noticed he was staring at me one night at dinner in the crowded mess hall, my heart jumped through my faded red polo shirt, and I thought I’d fall face first into the tasteless plate of mystery mush in front of me as he slowly smiled, then winked. He showed up at my bunk a few nights later and suggested that we take a “walk”–which we all knew was code for lets-go-to-the-darkest-place-we-can-find-and-make-out-until-lights-out. I remember walking with him through the darkness behind my bunk, the smell of the freshly cut grass, the sound of…