The First Time I Touched a Girl

On the day the drug film was to be shown in Mr. George's science class, I took my assigned seat at the rear center cluster of desks, directly across from a girl named Maria. She was at least a head taller than I was, with a few freckles, and long brown hair that covered most of her face. Like all the girls in my seventh grade class, she wore skirts or casual dresses over a contrasting leotard. She was not especially pretty or popular, not that I had any right to evaluate her. She never smiled, and for however many months she sat directly across from me I don't remember us ever speaking. Her face seemed to be in a permanent scowl, and like most girls, she looked at me with pure hatred.

But as scary as Maria was, she was nothing compared to the drug film. Even the opening credits made me nervous. The screen was filled with psychedelic colors that bubbled and whirled into each other, as if a rainbow were being cooked in a lab until it suffered aneurisms. Then, the title of the film, LSD: Trip or Trap? appeared luridly across the screen in bold, slanted letters. Maybe it was the color...