In hindsight, the solution was obvious. They had sat there for nearly half an hour, staring up at the stars. She'd tried to figure out why he was so quiet. He'd picked her up at 7, right on time, survived her dad's "look of death", and taken her out on the river in his boat. Now, sitting on the little sandbar, the remains of their picnic sitting in the basket beside him, he'd gone silent. She wondered if she'd said something wrong, something that made him regret ever asking her out in the first place. Or perhaps he was bored; should she try and make conversation? Maybe he was just tired; work often made him that way. But, for all the time she'd known him (since they were 12) he'd never been so quiet as he was now. As he turned towards her, she braced herself for something bad; guys were never that quiet for no reason. Then, he shocked her. His lips touched hers and stayed there.
Oooohhh, so THAT'S why he was so quiet. Yes, in hindsight, the solution was definitely obvious.