It was that kiss that did it.
Blew away my misconceptions about lads,
About fancying them that is…
About wanting to be their ‘girlfriend’.
Tracey was trouble with a capital T.
Tall, tempestuous, a truant and a tease.
She cut a swathe through all the boys,
Discarded them like broken toys.
I was twelve, she was sixteen…
And a walking, talking living dream.
I was bored with secondary school,
I preferred dancing and playing the fool.
On that day she noticed me,
Said she’d teach me how to be
A femme fatale like she was.
The first lesson was kissing…