I remember my primary kiss. It happened three houses away from mine on a inviting afternoon in Logan, Utah. The target: , a freckle faced red head without the need of intention of kissing me back in any respect, or so it seemed. He would tease me each time he visited his nanna, and I welcomed the interest from this stranger. I did not have my breasts, I did not have makeup, and I rode some sort of bike that still possessed one bad training wheel wobbling on it.
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