My first kiss was with Jason Farley-Shaw in the November of my first year of university, standing in front of a college kitchen sink.

As much of a romantic as I was, I hadn’t given much thought to what my first kiss would be like. Looking back, that probably should have been an indicator of me not really wanting to kiss anyone, but years of films, music, TV, peer pressure, and my own craving for a big love story had brainwashed me into believing this was going to be something amazing, as long as I gave it a shot.

It was not amazing.

In fact, I hated it. I think I would have felt less uncomfortable if someone had dared me to start singing on public transport.

It was not Jason’s fault that it was not amazing. I didn’t have anyone to compare him to, obviously, but objectively, he was perfectly fine at kissing. He didn’t do it too deep or forcefully. There were no teeth incidents, or, God forbid, tongue.

I knew what sorts of feelings kissing was supposed to bring up. I’d read hundreds, possibly thousands of fanfics by this point. Kissing someone you like was supposed to make your head spin, your stomach twist, your heart speed up, and you were supposed to enjoy it.

I didn’t feel any of that. I just felt a deep, empty dread in the pit of my stomach. I hated how close he was. I hated the way his lips felt against mine. I hated the fact that he wanted to do this.

It only lasted for a few seconds.

But those were some very uncomfortable seconds for me.

And, from the look on his face, they were for him too.

‘You look like that was terrible,’ I found myself saying. I didn’t know what else to say but the truth by this point.

‘So do you,’ said Jason.

‘Oh.’

Jason looked away with a pained expression. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

‘Well, I fucked that up,’ I said.

He shook his head immediately. ‘No, it’s my fault. Sorry. Shit. It was the wrong moment.’

I wanted to laugh. I wished I could explain just how much it was my fault.

Maybe I should try to explain.

But Jason ended up speaking first.

‘I don’t think you’re into me,’ he said.

When he looked at me, it was like he was pleading. Begging me to tell him otherwise.

‘I … I didn’t know whether I was,’ I said. ‘I thought if … if I tried then I could make it happen – I just wanted to see if I could fall in love, and you were the person I thought I could fall for, like, if I tried?’

As I said it, I realised exactly the weight of what I’d done.

‘You … just used me as an experiment, then,’ said Jason, looking away. ‘Knowing full well that I really liked you.’

‘I didn’t want to hurt you.’

‘Well, you did.’ He laughed. ‘How did you think you were going to do that and not?’

‘I’m sorry,’ was all I could say.

‘Fuck.’ Then he laughed a horrible, sad laugh. ‘Why did you do this to me?’

‘Don’t say that,’ I said hoarsely.

Jason turned the tap off and studied his hand, comparing it with his other hand. It looked several shades redder than it should be. ‘OK. I think it’s OK.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah. I might go and wrap it in something, just to be safe.’

‘Oh. God, yeah, of course.’ I stood there awkwardly. ‘Do you want me to come?’

‘No.’

Fuck. This was all going to shit.

‘I’m really sorry,’ I said, not sure whether I was apologising for the burn or for the kiss. Both, probably.

Jason was shaking his head. It almost seemed like he was annoyed with himself, but nothing that had happened this afternoon had been his fault. ‘I … I just need to go.’

Jason headed for the door.

‘Jason,’ I said, but he didn’t stop.

‘I’m just gonna need you to leave me alone for a while, OK, Georgia?’

And then he was gone.

Jason didn’t deserve any of this.

Jason was …

Jason had real feelings for me.

He deserved someone who was actually able to reciprocate.