I once almost kissed her. Tessa Vincent. The cutest girl in all of my eighth grade.
I was walking down the hall, you see, and had to decide whether to go through the lunchroom or the library to get out to the soccer field for my PE class. Forever and a day shall I rue that decision. It wasn't until almost a week later that I realized my folly in choosing the path through the lunchroom.
Had I gone through the library, I wouldn't have slipped on that piece of salami. And I wouldn't have gotten a concussion when my head contacted the table. And I wouldn't have had to stay home from school for the next two days.
Instead Peter Morrison would have slipped on the misplaced meat. He would have fallen, and hit his head. And he would have been the one to miss school.
And on Friday, instead of siting in bed with a head ache, I would be in history class. And our teacher would decide to play a game of trivia. And I would be partnered with Tessa. And the last question would be something that no one else knew, but that I could answer and we would win the game. And Tessa would adore me, and would ask me to hang out with her after school. And then it would be me, not Peter Morrison kissing her behind the bleachers.
You see I really was so very close to kissing those beautiful lips, and had I only gone for the Library door, that is of course what would have happened.
By the way, did I ever tell you about the time I almost was elected school president? It happened that same year, when I was about to head home...