My first kiss moment occurred when I was but a lass of 15. Astyn B. was hosting an end-of-the-year party on her parent’s farm. (I don’t count the one inside the Kindergarten playhouse from Dylan or the time Tadd F. pinned me down in the gym in 3rd grade.) For most of the night I had been flirting with Josh P. as adeptly as any newly minted sophomore can (I’m sure he remembers my suave moves a bit differently). He was one of the taller boys with brown eyes that I thought revealed a very deep teenage soul. He had such style about him in his polyester Adidas shirt, which had a melted spot where the bonfire spark landed. It was one of a collection. GQ model material right there.