The Kissing Game

The Petersburg Ninjas are curious about kissing, so they create a game.

The Kissing Game

By Stan Morris

Copyright 2014

 

“Why do girls like to kiss?”

I posed this question to Tyler and Douglas as we were gathering firewood.  I was ten years old at the time, and what I really meant was, “Is kissing yucky or dirty?”  By “dirty” I meant, “Is it cool?”  ‘Cool’ was the word the ‘Ancients’ like Tyler or Douglas used.  Of course, I and the other kids knew better than to call them ‘Ancients’ if they could hear us.  They always yelled at us and replied, “We’re still teenagers,” or something like that.

Tyler and Douglas exchanged glances, and I knew they were silently asking each other if this was a question they should answer.  I waited patiently.

Then they laughed, and Douglas said, “There’s nothing better than sucking on a girl’s juicy tongue.”

Tyler grinned and said, “There are a few things better.”

They laughed again in a way that meant they were not supposed to tell me what that meant, but I knew Tyler was talking about Gabby.

The story, according to a previous private conversation I had with Douglas, was that, at first, Tyler and Gabby didn’t like each other, and then one day they did like each other.  Douglas said that Mike, who had been the Chief of the tribe during that time, had trouble with them before and after.  I knew they liked to kiss.

“It’s fun to put your tongue in a girl’s mouth, too,” Douglas added.

That did not sound like fun.  We kids had been given stern lectures about sanitation, and putting my tongue in a girl’s mouth did not sound sanitary.

 

The reason I was asking that question was because of the Kissing Game.  It was summer, so we kids didn’t have to stay inside the Lodge during the day.  We weren’t allowed to go far, but we did have to gather firewood like everyone else in the tiny village of Petersburg, and sometimes we stopped and held a ninja meeting out of the sight of the ancients.  All the kids in Petersburg belonged to the Petersburg Ninja organization, so it was okay to have meetings, but sometimes, instead of talking about ninja business, we played games.

We were in the forest setting in a circle, one day, and Star brought up the subject of kissing.  She adored Gabby, and she resented all the time her older friend gave to Tyler.

“He’s always trying to kiss her.  It’s disgusting.”

“Gabby tries to kiss him, too,” Wanda pointed out.

“No, she doesn’t.” Star’s response was halfhearted at best, because she knew that Wanda was right.

“Lots of the ancients kiss,” Barry said. “John and Desi kiss a lot, and so does the Mayor and Jean.”  Jean was Mayor Howard’s wife.

“Once I saw Douglas kissing Gwen,” James, Sasha’s brother, said.

Sasha, who was eleven, didn’t say anything.  Her mother had been horribly mistreated by men when we lived at Eagle’s Retreat, and she didn’t much like men.  She had stated that she was never going to have a boyfriend.  I didn’t say anything, either.  It was a mystery to me why ancient people kissed each other, though I could understand why mothers kissed their children.  I could vaguely remember my mother kissing me when she was still alive.

“Maybe we should try kissing,” Jasmine suggested.

“We could make up a Kissing Game,” Barry added.

“That’s silly,” Star said, but we could see that her interest was piqued.

We discussed how this game would work and what the rules would be.

“I’m not putting my tongue in anyone’s mouth,” I said.

“Eww, that’s gross,” Jasmine said, pretending to gag.

Someone suggested asking the ancients for advice, but this idea was quickly voted down.  Eventually it was decided to find two small white stones.  We would put these in an old soda can that someone would have to sneak out of the recycle bin.  We would add darker stones to make up the number of ninjas, and then everyone would shake a stone into their hand.  We would hide the stones in our hands without looking at them, and then when we were ready, everyone would open their hands and reveal what color they had.  The kids with the white stones would kiss.

While this was happening, I was watching Sasha, who seemed to grow more uncomfortable by the minute.  I didn’t feel any better, but I didn’t see any way of getting out of the game.  We always did these things as a group.  It was our way of defining ourselves as separate from the ancients.

We met in the forest a few days later.  James, who was never suspected of bad behavior, had grabbed the can.  Barry had found the stones.  By then Star had grown enthusiastic.  She and Wanda were giggling and casting eyes at Barry, the oldest of us boys.  James looked interested.  Sasha looked unhappy, and I’m sure my face mirrored hers.  The can was passed around, and we took our rocks.

“Open your hands,” Star commanded, “and no cheating and no cheek kisses.”

Wanda and James had the white rocks.  They both shrieked in mock dismay, and then because they were sitting side by side, she leaned down, gave him a quick peck on his lips, and he giggled.  We passed the can a half dozen times before we had to stop and get our chores finished.  I saw Sasha sigh with relief when the game was over.  She had not gotten the white rock, and neither had I.

“That was so dirty,” Barry exclaimed, as we walked back to the Lodge.  There was a chorus of agreement from most of the ninjas.

That seemed to be the end of it, but two weeks later, Star pulled out the can and announced that we were going to play the Kissing Game, again.  After the can was passed around twice, Sasha excused herself to use nature’s facilities.  I took the opportunity to do the same, and I headed in the opposite direction.  We returned at the same time to discover some whispering going on that died as she and I sat down.

“We already got our rocks,” Star said.

She handed the can to me, and I palmed one.  I handed the can to Sasha who took the last rock.

“Ready?” said Star.  “Open your hands.”

We opened our hands.  Sasha had one white rock, and I had the other.  There was a chorus of giggles. I looked over at Sasha and saw her fair complexion whiten even more.  Looking around the circle, I realized that it was a total setup.  They had left the white rocks in the can when Sasha and I were peeing.

“Come on, Sasha,” Wanda said. “Kiss him.”

None of them except me could see that Sasha was on the verge of tears.  I was willing to kiss her, but I was not going to let Sasha be manipulated this way.  No one was making Sasha feel bad if I could help it.  I stood up.

“No!” I said loudly. “I don’t want to play this game anymore.”

I stalked away, not looking back.  I knew the group was not going to be happy about that.  I expected to be ostracized for at least a day or two and maybe longer.  I was right.

But that evening I was sitting, alone, on the grass not far below our cemetery.  I heard someone behind me, and when I turned I saw Sasha.  She sat down on the grass, next to me.  I waited for her to speak, but she was silent for a long time.

Then she said, “Kim, we agreed to play the game.  We have to kiss.”

I stared at her until it finally dawned on me that she meant we should kiss, right then.

I gulped and said, “Okay.”

Awkwardly we pressed our faces together and our lips met.  To my surprise, it did not feel weird at all.  It was somewhat pleasant.  We moved apart, and I wondered if she was blushing like me.

“I didn’t mind it,” I said.

“No.  It was… nice.”

“Let’s do it again.”

“Okay.”

It was much less awkward that time, maybe because she put her hands on my shoulders and steadied me.  Our lips pressed longer.

We drew away, and I said eagerly, “Let’s try it again.”

“No,” she said. “That’s enough.”

“Can we do it again, sometime?”

“Maybe.”

A year later I passed puberty, and soon I got up the courage to ask her again.  I asked quite a few times, and occasionally she agreed.

 

A few days after the Kissing Game ended badly, I woke early.  It was cold that morning, so I sought the warmth of the kitchen and found Douglas and Tyler frying pancakes.  They must have had kitchen duty that day.

“Morning, Kim,” Tyler said.

“Morning,” I mumbled, yawning.  I sat down on one of our white plastic chairs.

“Hey, I want to talk to you about something,” Douglas said.   I looked up, and saw that the expression on his face was serious.  “Remember that question you had about kissing?”  I nodded, still too sleepy to speak.

“I should have said that we don’t kiss girls if they don’t want to be kissed.”

“Right,” Tyler added firmly.

The last vestiges of sleep left me.  I stood up.

“Right,” I said, just as firmly.

Later that day they went hunting, and they asked me if I wanted go along.  I was delighted that they had asked, and I practically skipped as we hiked up the river.  It was the first time I had been allowed to join a hunting party, and I felt proud to be one of three men providing food for our village.