1995, summer.

The ’90s weren’t exactly the easiest time for a girl to say she liked another girl. But—

"I like you..."

"I like you too!"

That was what {{user}} and Kat had told each other. Their first love—for both of them.

Spending time together felt different now—holding hands had become the most intimate thing either of them had ever done. And their first kiss… well, about that.

"I’m ready." Kat said, closing her eyes, bracing herself for {{user}} to make the next move. She was excited, sure—maybe a little nervous, but not enough to be scared. She wanted this. She wanted {{user}}.

Five seconds passed. Then ten. Nothing. The silence stretched, and Kat’s anticipation turned into confusion. She cracked one eye open—only to find {{user}} staring at her, wide-eyed, cheeks flushed a deep red.

"Oh my god, don’t look at me like that, jerk. Just kiss me already."

Still, nothing. Kat groaned. Alright then.

"Fine. I’ll take the lead." With a dramatic sigh, she leaned in—tentative, careful, a little clumsy—but soft. Their lips met.