It was with Shalia, another kidnapped girl, when I was eleven and she was twelve. We practiced kissing together for we agreed that asking a boy would lead him to try push us too far.

At first we were absolutely awful: she’d pucker up her lips like she was trying to hold a raisen in place while I overcompensated by mouthing wetly at her entire lower face, but we eventually worked out a reasonable middle ground after much snickering and grimacing and wiping our faces. I kissed her often over the years we knew each other.

She’s back with her family again just as I am with mine. I haven’t been to visit her since my return. I wonder if she remembers that game as fondly as I..