The Street Party
The best day of my life
The bass drum pounded and the lead guitar riff ripped through the audience as we three looked through the coming dusk. From our vantage point on the hill, the green laser light from the stage played across the swell of the crowd as their heads rose and fell like a Mexican Wave in time to the music.
We each held a plate of food we snaffled from the tables down below. Little triangle sandwiches, sausage rolls, a slice of cake, the usual fare from the August street-party that marked the penultimate week of our summer holidays.
We laughed and joked and bobbed our heads to the music as we had done from our favourite spot since we could remember. We discussed our favourite TV shows, the latest chart music, and we were all looking forward to going back to school. Somehow, for me at least, getting my new school uniform and favourite trainers was so exciting. Still, the street-party was the most exciting part of our summer and we were enjoying every minute.
From behind there came a giggle that made us turn around. Three girls walked down towards us, their plates, empty, still in their hands. With a giggle and a toss of their hair, they threw the plates at us and took off running.
The night was still and calm, and the plates had found their playful marks. We took off after the giggling threesome, smiling and laughing ourselves. To be truthful the chasing was fun, but I for one was nervous about the catching. I wasn’t quite sure what was to happen then. This was a new game and a whole new world for my 14-year-old self.
When I was close Julie stopped and turned around smiling. Her long dark hair bobbing to the side, her dark eyes twinkling, making my breath catch in my throat. I reached out tentatively and touched her hand and she leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the lips. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again she was gone, running after her friends, only the scent of her perfume was left behind.
My friends nudged each other and chuckled at me. They hadn’t got a kiss and privately I believed the entire scenario was planned so Julie could kiss me. I smiled and walked down the hill towards the dancing crowds. This was already the best day of my life.
That night we stayed in my friend’s tent, in his grandad’s backfield. It was a boys’ night out, after all. We finally went to our home for the night when the music finished. It must have been 11 pm by the time we zipped up and got into our sleeping bags for the night.
I feigned nonchalance when John and Pete started to joke at my expense.
‘She must have taken pity on you’ John laughed and slapped me on the shoulder.
“Yeah, she gave you a sympathy kiss,” Pete giggled.
I just smiled,
“Jealousy is an awful thing lads, jealousy is indeed an awful thing.”
I played it straight-faced but inside my mind raced, my heart ached and on my lips, I could still taste her strawberry lip balm.
That night I twisted and turned and sleep barely found me. I lay in my sleeping bag, staring at the tent’s canvas ceiling, replaying Julie’s smile and kiss over and over in mind, to the accompaniment of the gentle snores of my friends. It was the best sleepless night I can ever recall.
Many years later, when summer days turn to dusk and the chart music of that summer plays on the radio, my mind often rolls back the years. The fair smile of sweet Julie, my first strawberry kiss, and my first love. Oh! to be 14 again.
