How to Keep a Boy from Kissing You (Aurora Skye Book 1)
How to Keep a Boy from Kissing You: Chapter 22

The next morning I woke in an upbeat mood. Life was a sweet prospect now that I knew I was in control of this afternoon’s event. I was dancing down the hall towards the door when the NAD stopped me in my tracks.

‘Aurora, can we talk?’ His brow was crinkled.

‘About?’ I pulled my handbag over my shoulder and reached for the door.

‘Dana called yesterday and told me you’d been disrupting her class.’

Ms DeForest had told on me? Some spiritually advanced soul she was. She must have gone directly from her class to phone Dad.

‘Not only that, but she told me that this has occurred before — both in her class and Mr Blacklock’s.’

Ms DeForest was keeping tabs on my classes?

The NAD let out a sigh. ‘I couldn’t believe it. I’ve never known you to be in trouble before.’

‘Dad,’ I protested, ‘it was completely unfair!’

His face softened. ‘I know that you’re probably going through a lot with falling in love for the first time. That’s natural.’

‘What?’ I gaped at him.

‘But even if your romance with Hayden is playing with your emotions, I still want you to give Dana the respect she deserves, both in class and here at our home.’

‘When have I not given her respect?’

‘Well, she seems to feel that you’re a little stand-offish —’

‘That’s only because she called me —’ I stopped.

‘She called you what?’ Dad looked closely at me.

There was no point getting into how she’d accused me of having a black aura. The NAD was infatuated with Ms DeForest and wouldn’t hear a word against her. Love truly was blind.

‘Never mind,’ I said. ‘I’ll be polite.’

‘That’s my girl.’

The NAD gave me a squeeze but I pulled away, annoyed that he was so willing to believe that I’d behaved badly.

Rehearsal was even more crowded than usual that afternoon. It seemed like half the school had volunteered their assistance for the day, not wanting to miss the much-talked-about liplock between Beatrice and Benedick.

‘Alright!’ Mr Peterman rubbed his hands together. ‘The time has come for the big moment! Yes, everyone knows what I’m talking about!’

Jeffrey feigned ignorance. ‘Could you remind us, Mr Peterman?’

I groaned from my place backstage.

‘The rehearsal of the kiss between Benedick and Beatrice!’ Mr Peterman cried. ‘So, Hayden and Aurora, please come on down!’

Mr Peterman sounded like the host of The Price is Right. I watched Hayden make his way onstage, waving good-naturedly at the catcalls and ribbing. I slowly slid off the stool, afraid that my shaking legs wouldn’t support me. Maybe I could just run out the backstage door.

‘Aurora?’ Mr Peterman called. ‘Kissing takes two. Please make your way to the stage.’

I took a deep breath and turned to the girls, checking that Tyler, who was embroidering Hero’s nightgown, couldn’t overhear. ‘Is everyone clear on their roles?’

‘There’s no way we couldn’t be,’ Jelena said. ‘You’ve been reminding us all day.’

Cassie elbowed her. ‘Don’t worry, Aurora. Everything’s going to go exactly to plan.’

Her words bolstered my spirit.

‘Ms Skye?’ Mr Peterman was now on the megaphone. ‘Hayden is waiting for you.’

I dashed onto the stage as fast as my shaking legs would let me. There was no turning back now.

‘Okay! We’re ready to go!’ Mr Peterman said, taking his place on the director’s chair.

I looked at Hayden, who was wearing a deep blue shirt and a slightly nervous smile, and my legs became even more jelly-like. To try to calm myself, I glanced at Cassie and Scott’s amazing set, which suggested the inside of a church. A stained-glass window stood behind an altar, with a font of holy water next to it. In front of Hayden and me was a long aisle. And an audience of at least fifty cast and crew, all wearing smug expressions.

‘Mr Peterman?’ My voice came out slightly tremulous. ‘Are all these people necessary? They’re heightening my performance anxiety.’

Mr Peterman swallowed a sip of guava juice. ‘My dear, if this is causing you performance anxiety, you’re really going to be in trouble on Friday when the house is packed. Don’t worry about today. It’s going to be very stop and start, as I’ll be directing you with the megaphone in order to build the most effective mood.’

Megaphone? Mr Peterman was going to be booming instructions like ‘Run your fingers through his hair!’ across the whole auditorium? This had to be the most embarrassing moment of my life.

‘Now,’ Mr Peterman said through the megaphone, ‘Aurora, you are praying in front of the altar.’

Thank god I was on my knees in this scene. If I’d had to stand, I would have collapsed. I suddenly found myself praying for real. Oh, please let me go unkissed …

‘Excellent, Aurora!’ Mr Peterman boomed. ‘Now, Hayden, Benedick is halfway up the aisle, looking with affection upon the beautiful Beatrice but not sure whether to approach her. Begin scene!’

‘Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?’ Hayden’s voice was gentle.

‘Now, Aurora, turn to him with desperate eyes.’

I turned my head slightly and looked up to where Hayden stood by the pews. My clasped hands shook slightly.

‘Yea,’ I answered bitterly, ‘and I will weep a while longer.’

‘Can’t we just get to the kiss?’ Jeffrey called out.

Part of me agreed. It was torture waiting for the moment when the plan would fall into place.

‘No interruptions.’ Mr Peterman’s voice was firm.

‘Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wronged.’ Hayden took another step forward.

I turned my back to him. ‘Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her!’

‘Passionately, Aurora!’ Mr Peterman said. ‘Beatrice is giving Benedick a clue here. This is how she wants him to prove his regard.’

Hayden dropped to his knees beside me and grasped my hand, which suddenly stopped trembling. For a moment I forgot about the fifty pairs of eyes in the audience. I was Beatrice in a church, with Benedick’s knee brushing mine.

‘I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is not that strange?’

Hayden’s voice was a mix of nervousness, resolve and a sprinkling of joy. I had to admit that he was a talented actor. A wide smile spread over his face as if he was relieved that he’d finally confessed, and I felt my own lips turning upwards in response. For a moment we were six years old again, grinning at each other in the sandbox.

‘Aurora?’ Mr Peterman’s megaphone brought me back to reality. ‘Your reply?’

‘As strange as the thing I know not,’ I stammered, looking down at Hayden’s hand in mine. ‘It were as possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you; but believe me not, and yet I lie not; I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing —’

‘What’s she going on about?’ Jeffrey yelled.

Beatrice was muddled up with feelings. Just like I was at that moment, minutes away from the start of Operation Stop Kiss.

‘Okay, Hayden,’ Mr Peterman boomed. ‘Place your hand on her cheek.’

Hayden slowly lifted his palm to my cheek, which was now burning. This was all too familiar.

I had to stay focused on the script. Three lines until the plan went into effect.

‘You have stayed me in a happy hour: I was about to protest I loved you.’ My voice shook slightly.

‘And do it with all thy heart.’ Hayden moved in closer and an odd expression crossed his face.

‘I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest,’ I said.

Hayden’s eyes flickered slightly. What was wrong with him?

‘Okay, Hayden, I want you to gather Aurora in your arms —’

The auditorium was plunged into darkness.

Screams echoed round the auditorium, but all I was aware of was the warmth of Hayden’s body as he held me in his arms and the funny feeling in my stomach.

‘Fire! Fire!’

‘Where’s the exit?’

Crashing sounds came from the seating area. I was glad I wasn’t down there.

‘I can’t smell any smoke, can you?’ Hayden’s voice was very close to my left ear. ‘It’s probably just a blackout.’

I restrained a giggle. I knew it wasn’t a blackout. It was Lindsay, flicking the switch at the fuse box while Sara kept watch for any teachers. Operation Stop Kiss was a success!

The idea had come to me in detention. If Ms DeForest had caused so much chaos by simply turning the light switch off in our interpretive dance class, then it would probably work just as well during the kiss scene. I felt terrible about sabotaging the rehearsal, but this was a dire situation.

‘Everybody freeze!’ Mr Peterman’s voice cut through the blackness. ‘I will not have anyone trampled to death during my rehearsal!’

Silence fell.

‘Jelena?’ Mr Peterman called. ‘Find the emergency flashlights!’

‘I don’t know where they’ve gone,’ Jelena wailed.

I knew she was lying, as I’d instructed her and Cassie to hide the flashlights right at the back of the storage cupboard. I was giddy with relief. There’d be no time now to rehearse our ‘big moment’, and the rest of the week’s rehearsal schedule was already squashed tight with other scenes. By the time opening night arrived, my admirer would have turned up or I’d have come up with another plan. I was safe! ‘Silence!’ Mr Peterman boomed. ‘We’ll light the candles.’

‘Candles?’ I repeated.

‘There are dozens of them set up for the church scene,’ Mr Peterman answered.

I hadn’t realised I’d voiced the question out loud. Why hadn’t Jelena briefed me on the props?

‘Mr Peterman …’ Jelena’s voice was strangled. ‘Do you know how many candles we’ll need to light this place up?’

‘Think of the waste of materials!’ I called in the direction where Mr Peterman’s voice seemed to be coming from.

‘There’ll be an even worse waste of materials if we don’t rehearse this scene,’ he called back. ‘Jelena, start lighting them now.’

‘With what?’ I could tell Jelena was stalling.

‘A lighter?’ Mr Peterman sounded like he was talking to an idiot. Poor Jelena.

Please don’t let anyone have a lighter, I prayed. If we didn’t have a lighter, there’d be no light. If there was no light, there’d be no rehearsal. If there was no rehearsal, there would be no kiss.

‘I’ve got a lighter!’ a voice called.

‘Me too!’

I bit back a groan. Did these people have any idea of the chain of events they were setting up?

‘Me too. We can’t let this scene go unrehearsed,’ someone added with a snicker.

Okay, obviously some people were aware.

‘Let there be light!’ Mr Peterman boomed.

Little flames appeared all over the room and the lighters’ owners, their faces weirdly illuminated, made their way up onto the stage. I pulled away from Hayden before our embrace became evident and people assumed we’d been ‘rehearsing’ in the dark. Hayden went to assist Jelena and Lindsay with lighting the long white candles by the altar.

‘What are we going to do?’ Lindsay mouthed to me.

‘I don’t know!’ I mouthed back frantically as the church aisle lit up with tiny little lights.

‘Everyone not involved in the scene, offstage!’ Mr Peterman said as the last of the candles was lit. ‘We’re running out of time.’

Hayden took his position next to me again. The candles twinkled all around us, enveloping the stage in a warm glow. Instead of stopping the kiss, I’d simply heightened the romance of the situation! I recalled ‘Do something right — go with candlelight’. Talk about irony.

‘Let’s go!’ Mr Peterman said. ‘Hayden’s lowering his head …’

We weren’t even going to run our lines through again? We were going straight into the kiss?

‘Ready, ma chérie?’

Hayden placed one hand on my waist and drew me near. His face slowly moved towards mine, and the scent of freshly cut grass surrounded me. He was thirty centimetres away.

Twenty.

Fifteen.

‘Stop!’ Sara screamed, leaping onto the stage.

Hayden’s head whipped around to her and I nearly collapsed with relief.

‘What is going on?’ Mr Peterman was incensed. ‘I said no-one else onstage!’

‘But this is important!’ Sara cried, standing above Hayden and me. ‘Look at this!’ She gestured wildly at the backdrop.

‘Yes, Sara, it’s a stained-glass window,’ Mr Peterman said with a sigh. ‘Hardly of vital importance compared with the rehearsal of this crucial scene.’

‘It is of vital importance,’ Sara said weakly. I could tell she was stalling for time. There had to be only about ten minutes of rehearsal left. ‘Look at this! Beatrice is about to kiss her love in a church! This window is a symbol of thousands of years of oppression of women by the Catholic religion! It’s just wrong!’

Mr Peterman rubbed his temples. ‘I don’t want to hear this.’

‘Of course you don’t!’ Sara cried. ‘You’re a man!’

‘Sara doesn’t mean to get personal, Mr Peterman,’ I cut in. ‘She’s just making the very valid point that the Beatrice– Benedick union is already under a black cloud and so —’

‘This kiss can’t happen here!’ Sara said.

‘No, can’t!’ I agreed.

Hayden was looking at us like we’d gone crazy.

‘Hayden, please place your lips over Ms Skye’s so she can’t talk any more,’ Mr Peterman said.

‘Well, I don’t know.’ Hayden’s eyes were twinkling. ‘I’ve learnt to always let her have her say.’

Mr Peterman held up a hand. ‘Hayden, I’m looking to you as my lead to complete this scene. You’re in love with this woman. What do you do?’

Hayden’s eyes turned serious. He lifted his hand and traced the side of my face, his touch like the whisper of a breath on my skin. He gently cupped my face in his palms, tilted my lips up and stared straight into my eyes. His pupils were dark and full of emotion, sending my thoughts spinning back to the question I’d asked myself yesterday. Could I kiss Hayden Paris?

Something inside me whispered yes, drowning out my protests that he was the bane of my life, that I didn’t like him, that my first kiss was meant to be for a Prince — the Prince who’d sent me the flowers and the poem and …

I couldn’t breathe. I was frozen, mesmerised by Hayden’s eyes, his full lips, the tiny distance between us that he was swiftly closing. Yes.

Then he paused ten centimetres from my lips and met my gaze. I saw in his eyes an unwillingness to keep going, and my senses came back to me.

There was no way that someone who didn’t want to kiss me was going to get my first kiss. Someone who was only acting out a scene in front of fifty pairs of greedy eyes. No. This whole ideal of mine had started long ago in my childhood, when I’d first heard the Sleeping Beauty story and had prayed for a Prince of my own. It was worth whatever I could do to save it.

Before Hayden could move any closer, and before Mr Peterman could butt in, I yanked my hands away — and knocked over one of the long candlesticks. Out of the corner of my eye I saw it fall and hit the font of holy water, which wobbled under the impact … and fell towards me.

I knew how heavy it was, having helped Jelena and two of her flunkies carry it onto the stage.

I let out a scream. Oh my god! I was going to be killed by a falling font!

As the huge prop bore down on me, Hayden threw himself over me and rolled us both out of the way. The font hit the floor with a thud that shook the whole stage, its water splashing out.

I lay flat on my back on the wooden slats of the stage, with Hayden pressed on top of me, sheltering me from harm. I looked into his eyes, which weren’t just hazel, I noticed, but shades of the most brilliant brown, green and auburn, like a late autumn leaf. But even more striking was the expression in them — fear and concern and reassurance.

I felt our heartbeats merge together. There was no time any more. There was no sound except our breathing. I felt the vibration of people leaping onto the stage to check if we were okay. I wanted to stay here, where it was safe, in the warmth of Hayden’s arms, breathing in his scent.

I reached up and touched the side of his face.

‘Oh my god! I was nearly killed!’ Sara shrieked.