When I was in highschool, I fell madly in love with this one
girl. Her name was Millie Gardner.  My name is Hoppy
Spillie. I spent many days following her around, glancing at
her from time to time and, occasionally, even staring. I
guess that caution was not one of my stronger sides, because
she quickly noticed my long gazes and, out of courtesy, I
had to stop. Therefore, there was no hope in my poor heart
that she would ever turn her attention to me. She probably
thought I was some spooky, obsessed teenager. Apart from the
spooky part, she was right. I was quite obsessed with her
and the forced ending of my frequent looks at her was very
troubling for me. The only comfort I could find was a
single, yet very beautiful photo I had of her. She had on a
red, flowery dress, the wind was playing with her dark hair,
and she was smiling this charming, enchanting,
teeth-revealing smile. The photo was taken by my best friend
Billie, now a professional photographer. However, the need
for a live picture returned to me very quickly and,
semi-reluctantly, I started looking her way again.
Obviously, this was again noticed by her.

It was already the last year of school and I was running out
of looking-at-Millie time, which was increasingly
frustrating. A couple of days before the night of the
graduation ball, I found that, against all odds, Millie had
no date yet. Either way, I wasn't going to do anything about
it, because I just didn't have the guts. Imagine my
astonishment when Millie came along and very
matter-of-factly asked:
"Say, Hoppy, wanna go to the ball with me?"
If you tried to count the human-defined feelings that were
running through me at that moment, you would spend a year
counting, so I won't go into it now.
'Thank god I'm living in this wonderful, modern world, where
girls can ask boys out! Oh, thank god for civilization!',
were my exact thoughts.
The fact was, Millie Gardner, a goddess, had asked me out on
a date - a real, genuine date! Later, I found out that
Billie had told her about my little obsession, and that she
found it quite romantic. I was thinking and feeling so many
things at the same time, that I even forgot to answer her.

"Well?", Millie inquired impatiently.
This time I was quick to answer:
"Yes, definitely!"
She smiled adorably, walked away, and left me as happy as
I've ever been.

On the ball night I picked her up. I don't remember any
specific details from the date, because the more significant
thing happened towards the end of that date. I am, of
course, talking about that kiss, that startling, amazing
kiss. It was a perfect ending to a perfect night. For some
reason, I thought of a popular, teenage clishea:
"I will never wash this mouth again!"

Five years passed without me washing my mouth. An ugly
pimple grew above my lip because of the dirt. I graduated as
an average student, never went to college or university, and
got a job as a clerck at a local convenience store. During
those five years I hadn't heard from Millie, so when I saw
her walk into my store, I was somewhat surprised. She
blushed, looked down at the floor shiely, and finally lifted
her eyes and greeted me. She hadn't changed much and was
still incredibly beautiful. We talked about this and that,
and then she asked:
"How did you get that nasty spot above your lip?"
"Remember our kiss? I haven't washed my mouth ever since", I
answered.
You could tell she was impressed, a wide smile spread over
her face. She said it was so-o romantic and forced me to
promise her I'd wash my mouth and take care of my pimple. In
return, we would go on another date.
Before long, my highschool fantasy became reality and we got
married. She even agreed to change her surname. We were
happy, living modestly and loving each other. At some point,
we thought about having kids.

One day, out of the blue, our marriage hit an iceberg.
Millie was having lunch with my best friend, Billie. Their
conversation yielded somehow from the topic of the weather
to how Millie and I got married.
"You know, Billie, it was so romantic, he didn't wash his
mouth for five years since I kissed him."
"Well, I wouldn't jump to conclusions so quickly if I were
you, Hoppy was never a particularly clean person. In fact,
he never even cared about personal hygiene."
As Billie said that, Millie became very pale. He wondered if
he'd said something wrong but it didn't seem so. He was
quite surprised by her reaction but said nothing to Millie.
Billie's words troubled Millie:
'That bastard!', she thought ,'And he told me it was because
of the kiss.'
Every nerve in Millie was boiling, about to explode. She
hadn't felt so much anger towards anyone before.

A week later, I received an envelope from Millie, who had
moved with her mother by then. In it was a short note and a
long formal letter. The small note stated: "No longer will I
be Millie Spillie!" The long letter was from her lawyer.
Millie filed for divorce.