I wasn’t what you’d call “hot” in high school, but I had my fair share of boyfriends. However, it was never long before subtle suggestions of swapping my preferred polo’s for dresses, and Air Jordan’s for heels squelched the flames of adolescent love.
Needless to say, my romances were brief, because I was nothing if not self assured. So imagine my surprise when I met a handsome, 6’4, football player that drove a white Mercedes, and “liked me just the way I was.” Blissfully pessimistic, I was excited about the impending adventure, but expected little more than the status quo.
Valentines Day 1998 was our first official date. We cut out on some unmemorable movie in a frenzied need to satisfy our teenage hormones. And, there under the iridescent glow of the parking lot lights he kissed me. I felt butterflies. I felt my heart race. I felt a sharp pain in my mouth, followed by the metallic taste of blood! How had wounded me with our first kiss?
I opened my eyes in shock to find my gorgeous Adonis blushing, revealing a mouth full of metal, but something was amiss. He explained that his braces brackets were open, because he had ripped the wire out during a previous football game. He apologized emphatically, and said he understood if I wanted to go home. Instead, I leaned in for another closed mouth kiss, and whispered “its ok, I like you just the way you are! Mr. and Mrs. Kevin and Courtney McFadden, Durham