How to Keep a Boy from Kissing You (Aurora Skye Book 1)
How to Keep a Boy from Kissing You: Chapter 2

‘How do I look?’ Jelena asked.

Cass and I carefully studied her as the three of us stood by the school gate the next morning.

‘Amazing, as always,’ I replied, looking at Jelena’s long, sleek black hair, navy-blue eyes and alabaster complexion, features that have longing male gazes following her like children after the Pied Piper. Jelena has an exotic air that I’m convinced comes from her Russian ancestry.

Cassie nodded. ‘And you smell incredible.’

If we were ever in a blizzard with zero visibility, I’d be able to locate Jelena just by her scent — a heady mix of oriental lilies. Jelena likes everything about her to make an impact, including her perfume.

‘You’re positive?’ she said.

Normally Jelena wouldn’t even consider the possibility that she might look anything other than perfect (and with her looks, it’s completely understandable), but today was a crucial day. A day when an outfit could make or break a girl. The first day back after summer break.

Summer is a transformative time for any teen — just consider the movie Dirty Dancing — and there’s always a touch of uncertainty, a hint of fear, the essence of possibility in the air on the first day of the new school year. The entire social structure of a high school can revolutionalise itself in those short six hours. I knew that Jelena wanted to be dead certain that her social status was secure for another year.

Jelena possesses such fabulous qualities as confidence, never-ending energy and an innovative mind, but she has a bit of an obsession with being popular. Her goal is to be CEO of an international company in ten years and she thinks Jefferson High is the perfect place to practise using her influence. Ever heard of the phrase ‘an iron fist in a velvet glove’? Well, that’s Jelena. On many an occasion I’ve had to talk her out of implementing a system of serfdom. It’s thanks to her that our group is, as she puts it, ‘akin to reigning tsars’.

Jelena looked at me critically, gesturing at her formfitting cream dress. Attending a school where free dress was permitted meant the stakes were especially high. ‘Are you absolutely sure, stake your future on it, that I look like a teen queen?’

‘YES,’ I said. ‘And Cass, you look fab too.’

Cassie wore dark denim short shorts, a baby-pink top and a diamanté headband atop her fairest-of-fair blonde curls. Those curls, along with her fawn-coloured eyes, petite features and voluminous pout, would probably enable Cass to get away with murder. However, she’s as good as she is beautiful.

‘So let’s head on in,’ I said. I was dying to see what was new on the first day back.

‘I don’t know.’ Jelena arched a brow. ‘It’s important to build anticipation.’

‘Don’t you want to be the first to check out any new talent?’ I asked.

If there’s one word that motivates Jelena, it’s ‘first’. She views life as a battleground in which she must be the constant victor.

‘Let’s go,’ she commanded.

We clicked our identity rings together, a gesture left over from primary school but one we can’t help resurrecting every so often. The rings reflect how we like to see ourselves. Cassie’s ring reads ‘Angel’, Jelena’s is ‘Power’ and mine, naturally, is ‘Princess’. Hayden Paris happened to catch sight of the ring years ago and now refuses to call me anything else. Probably in the hope of embarrassing me. There’s no knowing what goes on in that disturbed mind of his.

We smiled at each other and stepped onto the school grounds. Jelena gave a satisfied smile as she did a perimeter scan. ‘Fantastic. There’s no-one capable of challenging our status.’

I rolled my eyes. I was scrutinising the crowd too, but for a different reason. There were a lot of new faces, most of which wore slightly terrified expressions. I think that if you’re in a socially advantageous position, you should use your power for good. I sent some of the more frightened faces a big smile. I noticed Cassie doing the same.

Cass and I met through a random act of kindness. This was way back in preschool when we found little Danny Freeman being terrorised by the school bully. Cassie comforted Danny while I told the girl to back off or her invite to my fifth birthday party was history. Eleven years later and Cassie’s still doing the comforting thing. She has this warmth that’s like a lighthouse beacon for unhappy souls. This can be both a blessing and a curse, especially romantically: Cass somehow winds up playing the role of Good Samaritan to scores of emotionally fragile guys suffering from hard break-ups. Unfortunately they almost always end up falling for her, and then she has to bruise their egos again by rejecting them (in the nicest way possible, of course).

I spotted Hayden Paris sitting amongst a group of guys underneath the big pine. Two of them were playing guitar. When Hayden caught sight of me, he sent me a cheeky grin.

‘Hayden’s looking at you,’ Cassie announced in a singsong voice.

I groaned. ‘Don’t remind me. He’s probably replaying the image of me sitting in that puddle again and again, like some sweet reverie.’

‘Hey, Aurora,’ Jelena said, studying herself in a pocket mirror, ‘remind me again why this red lipstick thing is so vital? I really think a nude shade is more flattering for my complexion.’

All three of us sported matching crimson pouts, and I was beginning to tire of Jelena’s repeated requests for an explanation. She just doesn’t like taking orders from anyone, even in relation to cosmetics.

‘It’s very simple,’ I said. ‘Almost everything sensual in life is red. Think strawberries, roses, the soles of those breathtaking Christian Louboutin heels. Isn’t the most fascinating girl in a movie or at a party always dressed in red?’

‘Like Miss Scarlett!’ Jelena cried.

I knew she’d use that example. Jelena’s insistence on always being Miss Scarlett when we played Cluedo had caused some pretty intense squabbles when we were younger.

‘Exactly!’ I replied. ‘Miss Scarlett — the name says it all. Red is the colour of love, the colour of excitement. Scientific studies have actually proved that red makes men more amorous! WHY?’

Talking about my Rules of Attraction always got me excited.

‘Why?’ chorused Jelena and Cass, getting into the spirit.

‘It’s a biological reaction. When we see someone we like, blood rushes to our cheeks and lips. The other person subconsciously reacts to this, replaceing us more attractive. So, by wearing red lipstick we mimic that physical reaction, and the guys around us connect it with passion and are smitten!’

‘I suppose Marilyn Monroe always wore red lipstick,’ Jelena mused, still taking in her appearance in the mirror.

‘What about Gwen Stefani?’ added Cassie.

I didn’t need to explain that in ancient Egypt, the only choice of lipstick was red. I had them already.

Cass, Jelena and I are really close, but we also have two other girls who make up our group: Lindsay and Sara. They joined us just as Jelena was putting away her mirror. Lindsay is petite, with wavy chestnut locks, dark eyes and year-round bronzed skin, which half the school is jealous of and attempts to replicate with Ambre Solaire with varying success rates. The other important thing to know about Lindsay is that she’s part of TylerandLindsay, which isn’t two businesses joined into one super company, but a couple that’s been going out for so long and so seriously that the entire student body views them as a single entity. I was surprised that Tyler wasn’t glued to Lindsay’s side. I looked around and saw he was sitting nearby. Lindsay was blowing I-can’t-believe-we’re-separated kisses to him and he was making a show of catching each one in his palm. Oh brother.

Lindsay’s identity ring will come as no surprise — it reads ‘Love’.

Sara was telling some long, involved story, as usual. ‘And then they told me that they were discontinuing that brand so I said, “Well, how am I going to manage without it? Youths with significant expendable incomes are looking to this pharmacy to provide different options!” And then he got all self-righteous and so I demanded to see someone more superior and —’

Sara’s ring reads ‘Diva’. Everything about her is dramatic — from her bright red hair to the way she handles situations. To get out of PE last year, Sara didn’t complain of PMS or a strained ankle; instead, she fainted and had half the basketball team carry her into the sick bay while the other half ran for water and smelling salts. It’s virtually impossible to keep up with her constant level of hysteria, so I tune out when she’s not actually experiencing a real crisis. I think most of us do, to tell the truth.

Lindsay had gone from blowing kisses to Tyler to sign language (‘I’, gesturing towards herself, ‘love’, making a heart out of her two index fingers and thumbs, ‘you’, pointing at Tyler); Cass was smiling at more nervous-looking students; and Jelena’s interest had moved to the area near the canteen.

‘HS.’ Her voice was loud and clear.

We had a Hottie Spotting.

‘Where?’ Cass glanced everywhere, not so subtly.

‘Don’t make it so obvious!’ Jelena hissed. ‘Twelve o’clock!’

We all looked straight ahead, to a group of guys from our grade. Amongst them were two new, highly attractive faces. The one on the left had sun-streaked blond hair and a wide grin that displayed dimples in both cheeks. Even from a distance, his baby blues were very striking.

‘Potential Prince,’ Cass breathed to me.

The guy on the right had something no other guy in the school had — a goatee. That alone was impressive. He leant against the brick wall, showing off his muscular arms to perfection. Every so often he’d run his fingers through his dark, perfectly styled hair.

‘Guy on the right looks potentially egotistical,’ I said.

I love the fact that guys now take a greater interest in grooming, but sometimes I think the whole metrosexual thing has gone too far. I want a guy who takes pride in his appearance, but won’t dive-tackle me for rights to the bathroom mirror.

‘Girl standing next to me obviously hit her head when she fell last night, because guy on the right is godly,’ Jelena replied.

‘Exactly — looking down on the rest of us mere mortals,’ I retorted.

‘If he’s conceited, he has every right to be,’ Jelena said. ‘Look at him! So, what do you think? Should we approach?’

Sara was still going on her pharmaceutical sob story, and Lindsay had obviously decided she couldn’t take the separation from her beloved any longer, as she and Tyler were now sharing a swing, so the three of us looked at each other and made a decision.

‘High heels?’ Cass asked.

‘Check!’ we all cried.

‘Time for the Glide-By,’ Jelena said.

The Glide-By, like the scarlet lipstick, is based on evolutionary tendencies — though it’s likely Darwin never saw this one coming! In the Glide-By, you wear an eye-catching outfit but pair it with LOUD shoes. This is because although a guy’s sight is his primary sense when it comes to attraction, you often need to combine the visual with sound to really make impact. Back in caveman days, men were trained to focus on their direct line of sight in order to spot prey. This evolutionary tendency is still part of the modern man’s make-up, so he might not pick up on your presence, no matter how gorgeous you are, if you happen to be slightly out of his line of sight. This is where the loud shoes are vital. They announce your presence. The minute a guy hears a loud sound, such as a pair of heels amongst the silent scuffing of sneakers, he will almost always turn his eyes towards it — an instinct from the days when responding to a sound could mean life or death for him and his tribe. Once his eyes are on you, the gorgeous outfit will have its desired impact. And, if your Glide-By is successful and he becomes smitten, he may even learn to recognise the exact sound of your particular heels in a crowd, the way penguins recognise a partner amongst thousands of identical birds.

We headed up the path towards the guys, our heels drumming an ancient arrival call. As we hit the spot five metres away, all eyes lifted from various hacky-sack games and skateboard tricks. The boys looked at us; we looked at them. There was this moment of intense silence during which we mutually evaluated each other. The Glide-By was running smoothly so far.

Just when it looked like we would attempt an approach, Cass, Jelena and I smiled simultaneously, turned abruptly and headed for the history and arts block. We could feel the gazes following us. The Glide-By was a success.

You should never speak too soon.

‘Hey, Princess!’ Hayden’s voice boomed out across the schoolyard, instantly destroying any intriguing after-effects of the Glide-By. ‘When am I going to get my jacket back?’

‘In medieval England, beer was often served with breakfast,’ Mr Bannerman, our history teacher, announced.

The thing I love about Mr Bannerman is that he knows how to make history come alive. His brain is always teeming with weird facts and curious characters that he’s dying to tell us about.

His announcement was met with loud cheers from the male students. Several guys punched their fists in the air.

‘Man, these historical dudes had it good!’

Jeffrey Clark waved his hand madly in the air.

‘Yes, Jeffrey?’ Mr Bannerman said.

‘Sir, I think I speak on behalf of the class in thinking it would be educationally beneficial if we held a medieval breakfast of our own. You know, someone brings pancakes —’

‘And you bring the Tooheys?’ Mr Bannerman finished.

‘It’s got to be authentic!’

Jeffrey Clark can be relied upon to disturb every class with his outbursts. However, he also supplies comic relief at times of extreme stress: i.e. on exam days or during slide presentations.

Mr Bannerman laughed and perched himself on the front of his desk. ‘How about you keep that one for your own time seeing as no-one in this class is legal yet? To get back to what one of you said before, these medieval dudes did not have it good. If you didn’t succumb to the plague, you’d probably perish fighting in one of the many religious conflicts that dominated the period. There was a great deal of bloodshed during the Middle Ages. Medieval Europe is our main unit of study this semester and we’re going to get down to all the nitty-gritty details.’

I love history. It has all the good stuff — intrigue, corruption, love affairs, characters full of good, characters full of evil. If I’d lived back then, I would have been the one watching everything and jotting it all down on parchment with a quill pen.

‘Now, I’m sorry to tell you, Aurora,’ Mr Bannerman said, as if he had read my thoughts, ‘with your statuesque height, you might have had trouble replaceing a husband, as the average man was only about five foot six.’

Okay, there would have definitely been some downsides to life back then.

‘She would have had to bend down to kiss him!’ Jeffrey yelled.

Now the whole class was laughing. Hayden Paris turned around in his seat and gave me a wink.

Hayden has sat directly in front of me for ten years now. I don’t know who came up with the idea of alphabetical seating, but if I had a time machine, I’d go back, ascertain their identity and then sue them for inflicting mental and emotional anguish. Maybe I could sue for physical pain as well, since I’m sure I’ve strained my arm as a result of all the years of hitting Hayden with a ruler when he’s too impossible to deal with. Which, if you know Hayden Paris, is just about always. I’m too mature and poised to use the ruler any more, so I have to rely on my wit.

Thankfully my embarrassment was brought to an end by the arrival of the new, blue-eyed boy we’d seen earlier this morning. He leant on the doorframe, sliding a lock of sun-streaked hair back behind his ear.

‘Is this the Year 11C history class?’ he asked.

‘None other,’ replied Mr Bannerman. ‘Hope you’re ready for bloodshed, Mr … let’s see … Scott Ryder.’

Blue-eyed boy smiled a confused but still delicious smile. Cassie, who sat on my left, could barely conceal a squeal of delight.

‘Scott Ryder!’ she whispered to me.

My guess was we’d soon be seeing that name scrawled on Cassie’s books.

While Mr Bannerman verified Scott’s details, Hayden turned around and leant his elbows on the front of my desk.

‘So, pretty soon I’ll be trumping you in history tests.’

‘Hayden, I beat you every week last semester —’

‘Not every week. We tied in that one about Charlemagne, remember?’

How could I forget? It had been so embarrassing seeing our names up on the board together, like an engagement announcement or something.

‘Whatever,’ I said breezily. ‘Why would I stop that amazing run now?’ I smiled in what I hoped to be a superior way.

Hayden just smiled back and stayed silent.

‘Well, WHY then?’ I demanded.

He shrugged. ‘Well, with all the dating you’ve been doing, you’re bound to get distracted. Drift off into Mills & Boon fantasies. Potent stuff. Naturally, your studies will suffer. As I’m not participating in the dating game, I think it’s safe to say that it’ll be top of the class for me all this year.’ He raised his chin in a smug gesture.

‘Paris, if I haven’t let your incessant ramblings distract me all these years, a date or two isn’t going to have a chance against my iron-willed focus. And,’ I added as a last retort, ‘you know nothing about my fantasies.’

‘No, I don’t,’ he agreed. ‘But knowing you, they’d be something highly original.’

I looked at him suspiciously. Was he saying I was a creative thinker or warped in the head?

Before I had a chance to reply, Mr Bannerman pointed Scott to the seat next to Cassie. All the girls in the class looked at her with envy. At least alphabetical seating was having a positive effect on someone’s life.

Mr Bannerman paced up and down between our desks. ‘Some interesting trivia to tickle your fancy before we get into dates and names —’

‘Dates?’ Jeffrey piped up. ‘Don’t get me started. I went to the movies last week with this brunette chick and when I tried to move into a bit of a pash she —’

‘Historical dates, Jeffrey,’ Mr Bannerman said firmly. ‘I don’t suppose you could tell me some? A little pop quiz maybe? Some interesting historical trivia to amaze your friends and relatives with? Maybe make that date a bit more intellectually stimulating, hmm, Jeffrey? Up your chances of a kiss?’

Jeffrey Clark wouldn’t be speaking up for the rest of the lesson.

‘The nursery rhyme “Jack jumped over the candlestick” was derived from a tradition in medieval England,’ Mr Bannerman went on, ‘that involved jumping over a lighted candle as a means of predicting the future.’

‘Sounds like one of Bradley Scott’s ancestors, huh?’ Hayden whispered to me.

‘You know, I’d assumed that an intelligent person like yourself —’

‘I knew you appreciated my intellect,’ Hayden said triumphantly.

‘— would choose to concentrate on higher matters than criticising my dates,’ I continued. ‘But I guess I was mistaken.’

Just then, the intercom announced that Scott Ryder was needed in the office. Cassie looked the picture of disappointment.

‘Don’t worry,’ I whispered to her as Scott headed out the door. ‘You have a geographically advantageous position for the rest of the year!’

We exchanged a discreet high five.

‘Now, a small assignment,’ Mr Bannerman said, pausing at the window. Everyone groaned. ‘I said small, people. We’ve got to get those sleepy brains buzzing again after such a long break. I would like you to research one aspect of medieval history that interests you and present it to the class next Tuesday.’

I already knew what I’d research. I wrote the words ‘Courtly love’ on my notepad in swirly script, then caught Hayden peering at it.

‘Courtly love? Sorry, Aurora, but I think I’ve already got that one in the bag.’

‘I think you’d better think again, because I’ve already claimed it,’ I replied.

‘You just said you’re not the Mills & Boon type and, technically, courtly love could be considered historical romance.’ He grinned. ‘As you don’t want to pollute your mind with any clichéd topics, you should probably leave that one to me.’

‘You, discussing romance? Ha!’

Hayden put on a hurt face. ‘I think I might be alright at it. After all, I’ve been doing a lot of observing lately.’ He gave me a significant look.

‘Observing?’ I repeated, curiosity getting the better of me.

‘Well, you keep accusing me of spying on your dates,’ he said, and shrugged. ‘So, technically, I guess I’m learning about romance firsthand. It seems kind of brutal, judging from the goodnight ritual I saw last night.’

My blood wasn’t boiling, but it was pretty warm. Despite that, I was not going to lose my temper. I was determined that this year Hayden Paris wasn’t going to destroy my composure.

‘But I haven’t seen the whole picture,’ he went on. ‘I was thinking I could sit in on the restaurant part of it; help you assess your dates. I would have given Bradley Scott a strike right off the bat.’

‘My dates are none of your business!’

‘If I’m doing the study, they are.’

‘Study something else!’ I hissed just as Mr Bannerman arrived at my desk.

I smiled. ‘Mr Bannerman! I have the best idea for this assignment —’

‘Aurora, I’m afraid I’m going to have to remind you that drawing on school property is not allowed,’ Mr Bannerman interrupted, looking serious.

‘What?’ I said. The last time I defaced anything was back when I was four, and my mother’s reaction to my mural on our dining-room wall had stopped me ever sketching on anything ever again.

I took a closer look at where Mr Bannerman was pointing. There was a heart drawn on the front of my desk. I struggled to read the scrawled black words inside it. ‘I love … HR?’ I guessed.

‘HP,’ Hayden put in helpfully. ‘I never suspected you had such intense feelings for me, Aurora.’

‘W-what?’ I stuttered. Then it dawned on me. ‘You!’ I cried. ‘You graffitied my desk!’

‘Nothing you can do will ever make me admit it,’ Hayden said as solemnly as someone can when they’re suppressing a smile. ‘Don’t worry, Mr Bannerman,’ he added, ‘it’s nonpermanent. Aurora can take advantage of the situation to get me alone at break and help me clean it off.’

‘You’re driving me crazy!’ I cried.

There went my composure. The whole history class turned to look at us.

‘A person can only drive you crazy if you give them the keys,’ Hayden said with mock serenity, like some sort of Buddhist monk.

‘You’ve stolen the keys!’ I yelled.

He just looked at me and raised his eyebrows.

The bell rang before I could kill him.