It was a truth-or-dare dry brush of lips, scented with the warm beer and cigarettes that lurked in the breath behind our closed mouths. You and I stood, leaning across the rickety, scarred card table and bracing our palms there, our mouths touching in the middle while everyone else hooted and cackled and Metallica snarled into the smoke-heavy air.
"Our First Kiss,"
Booth: Vol. 2
, Article 2.
Available at: http://digitalcommons.butler.edu/booth/vol2/iss9/2