Instead of stories, he remembers all the girls from high school based on the size of their breasts.  But, even still, he doesn’t refer to them as breasts, only "boobs," "rack," and "busty."  He dated the fat twins—I thought for their boobs—but when I think about it, despite their rotund nature, their breasts were pancakes.  He tells me now I was the first girl to give him “wood,” and that’s not all: I was his first kiss.  I think it happened in our 6th grade classroom closet during lunch.  It wasn’t after lunch; I would have tasted that and remembered his smell because kids at that age only ate luncheon meats or wet tuna fish sandwiches.  I do remember his tongue: it had rivers running through it, deep lines, and it was wider than I’d expected, but he darted in there so fast, I will forever remember that kiss as “like a lizard.” 

The rest of this post can be found in my memoir.