Slow down.

 

Julie was a sophomore, and I had just started high school. Her last boyfriend had already graduated and joined the army. He was tall, rugged, and drove a white Trans-Am emblazoned with a blue firebird. My driving experience? Sitting on my grandfather’s lap steering his Cadillac. 

 

Don’t just jab your tongue in my mouth. 

 

Apparently, being good at trumpet hadn’t translated to being good at kissing. You’d think so many hours frenching a silver-plated mouthpiece would’ve amounted to top-tier tongue skills. Instead, I seemed to be strangling Julie’s supply of oxygen. 

 

Relax.

 

She grinned through chrome-colored braces, curly hair framing brown eyes, her fingers brushing the ruffles of my uniform. My cheeks still flushed from her rebuke, but I couldn’t stop staring at her lips or the delicate bra strap that peeked from her t-shirt. I spent so much time gawping at Julie that our band director had to stomp his feet on the metal bleachers to snap me back to attention.

 

Close your eyes. 

 

Julie was all I thought about. That night, on the football field, I started my halftime solo a measure too soon, confusing the entire section of trombones. They collided with tubas, who crashed into mellophones, creating a cacophony of clashing brass on the forty-yard line. I barely noticed. Every second, my mind wandered to Julie –-- her laugh, her skin, her spearmint breath.

 

Breathe.

 

When Julie got her driver’s license, we celebrated by going on our first real date –-- pepperoni and pop at House of Pizza. I wore a long-sleeved button-down (without ruffles this time) and borrowed twenty bucks from my dad. Afterward, reeking of garlic knots, we sat in her beige hatchback, me staring at her lips, when she said she was moving to Missouri.

 

Take your time.

 

For a long time, hope tricked me into thinking I’d spotted Julie's car kicking up dust on the dirt road to my house, and my stomach would flutter. That dust never settled. A few years later, while sitting with friends at another football game, I learned the beige hatchback married the blue firebird, and I wondered if she taught him how to kiss.