notes of jubilee

There he was. Bigger than life. In my room. With my parents' permission. My joy knew no bounds: I was the proud owner of a gargantuan Shaun Cassidy poster. It was so big that when I hung the poster on the back of my door, poor Shaun's legs were rolled up to just below the knees. Because what good was a life-sized poster if we weren't eye to eye?

Shaun and I had many truly amazing one-way conversations. He never criticized, never tried to "fix" whatever crisis I was going through and never, ever utilized selective hearing. He just casually leaned against the door and listened. To. Every. Single. Syllable. And that's allota syllables, dear reader.

He was in a word: dreamy.

It was after one of our many heartfelt tete a tetes that Shaun was there in his usual spot and I was lying on my back alternately gazing at the ceiling and at him, when it hit me. Full force. I swung my legs over the side of my bed and sat up. I dared not look away. Those understanding eyes drew me closer. How could I resist the strong pull of full-blown poster-sized puppy love? I was powerless. I tentatively stepped forward, closed my eyes and willed the fireworks to begin.

It's a good thing I had such low expectations.

Fireworks, not so much. What I did hear was my bottom lip thwacking back into place after sticking ever so slightly to the glossy image of the young heartthrob.

And then there was the taste of ink. Cheap ink. Not that I was acquainted with the expensive kind.

Well, the kiss wasn't exactly what I had imagined, although looking back, I am not sure what I had expected from an over sized piece of Pop paraphernalia.

But I certainly didn't hear any complaints.

And honestly, that was, hands down, the best part of all.

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This post was written for Scribbit's August Write A Way contest. And may or may not be a true representation of the author's first kiss. I'm just sayin'.