How to Keep a Boy from Kissing You Page 2

  After she left, Dad replaced just about everything in our Spanish-style house. Freedom Furniture’s profits must have soared that year, as every time the thought of my mum crossed his mind, we’d head on down there and load up on a new couch or lamp. Now, four years later, my mum had returned with a Spanish boyfriend, and Dad, now the NAD, was offloading everything.

  Despite the attentions of Snookums and Bebe, I was starting to feel a bit down after my disastrous date. Thankfully the phone rang.

  ‘So, did it go fabulously? You have to tell me every single detail, okay?’ Cassie cried before I’d even said hello.

  I sighed. ‘Does that include an unwanted kiss, an almost drowning and an ego-crushing run-in with Hayden Paris?’

  ‘What? I thought you guys were planning to go to La Bella Donna. How’d you end up at the beach with Hayden?’

  ‘The beach? All of this happened in my driveway!’ I briefly filled her in on the night’s unfortunate events, knowing her to be the soul of discretion. ‘Where were you, Cass? What happened to Operation Stop Kiss?’

  ‘Where was your text? I was watching out for it, but it never arrived, so I figured your date was a true meeting of souls.’

  ‘You never got my text?’ A feeling of horror ran through me. ‘Oh god. If it didn’t go to you, who did it go to?’

  It had been nearly impossible to see in the car, and I’d been trying to be discreet while Bradley jabbered on about astrologically favourable locations. I rifled through my still-damp evening bag. My mobile lit up with the words ‘One new message’.

  ‘Please let this be non-Operation related,’ I whispered as I pressed ‘Open message’.

  No such luck.

  Operation Stop Kiss? How about Operation START KISS? Oh baby!

  Great. Ryan Danfield, whom I’d brushed off two months ago because of his unappealing thriftiness (our finest dining experience was at McDonald’s), had taken my text as fresh encouragement. I’d only just managed to get free of his endless phone calls and emails.

  ‘Arrgghh!’ I sank back into my chair. ‘Why Ryan?’

  ‘Don’t worry, Ryan may be worryingly cheap but he’s harmless enough,’ Cassie said. ‘What was wrong with Bradley Scott? Bradley could totally take on Robert Pattinson in a hotness contest. And he’s deep — look how he’s always talking about destiny and the meaning of life!’

  ‘He got a little too deep when he claimed he was actively practising astral travel in the hope of achieving greater intimacy with intergalactic beings.’

  ‘What?’ I could hear the giggles rising up in Cassie’s throat.

  ‘Evidently I don’t hold much appeal if Bradley’s prepared to travel several light years to find a better match.’ I burst into laughter. ‘I wanted unique and I certainly got it!’

  Uniqueness is one of the qualities I deem necessary in a prospective partner, and I’m always really careful to make sure that potential candidates possess it before saying yes to a date. I’d said yes to Bradley Scott because he was always talking about the stars and the universe. Little did I know he viewed it as a galaxy-wide dating pool equivalent to RSVP.com. I’d been impressed that Daniel Benis wrote poetry, although I discovered later that this consisted purely of odes to his new Ford Falcon; and Ryan Danfield had seemed like the strong, silent, Heathcliff-from-Wuthering-Heights type until I realised the reason for his silence was a lack of activity in the cerebral area.

  ‘Oh, Cass,’ I said, turning serious, ‘I really am tempted to call off the search for a while. I think my soul mate is a long way from Jefferson High.’

  ‘Aurora! You’re always telling me that it’s only possible to find your true love if you put in the dedication, right?’

  ‘Right …’

  ‘So now is not the time to give up! You know what they say about frogs and princes.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘You fell right into the home of the frogs tonight — literally! Prince Charming must be within sight. He’s probably calling out for you right now!’

  I could almost hear something!

  ‘Cass,’ I said dreamily, ‘there is a sound.’

  ‘Do you mean that buzzing noise?’ she said.

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Oh, that’s just Andrew. Mum and Dad have left me in charge again, but there’s nothing I can do to stop him joyriding up and down our street.’

  Cassie’s brother recently saw Rebel Without a Cause and was so inspired he started up his own neighbourhood motorcycle gang.

  ‘I don’t know why your parents don’t just take the bike off him,’ I said.

  ‘They’re proud that he’s showing some leadership qualities.’

  Cassie’s parents are psychologists, hence the interesting parenting philosophy.

  ‘Oh no, I’ve got to run,’ Cassie added. ‘Old Mrs Barker’s yelling again — I think the guys just knocked over her wheely bin.’

  ‘Cass, first day back at school means the opportunity to meet Potential Princes. Remember to wear your best!’

  ‘Gotta go!’ she cried as the buzzing in the background got even louder.

  Thank god I’m an only child.

  Cass is the only person who knows my deepest, darkest secret; one that could make me the laughing-stock of our entire school. I’m sixteen and I’ve never been kissed.

  It all has to do with Sleeping Beauty. Yes, the fairytale. When I was five, I was completely obsessed with it — partly because the princess and I share the name Aurora, but mostly because of how romantic it is. A beautiful maiden, asleep in a crumbling, rose-filled tower, waiting for love’s first kiss. A prince fighting through a forest to get to her, then falling madly in love within seconds of beholding her. And then that all-powerful kiss — able to bring the princess back to life, to transform her, to awaken her. Even at five, I realised that locking lips was a very powerful thing.

  And so, ever since, I’ve saved my first kiss for my Prince. I’ve opted out of truth and dare, spin the bottle and all other high-school lip-orientated games, and ducked and manoeuvred my way out of a multitude of goodnight smooches. It hasn’t been easy. Most guys try to make a move on the first date, thus the creation of Operation Stop Kiss. The only problem is, my dedication to saving my first kiss for my Prince seems to be leading to no end of embarrassing situations.

  I groaned, thinking again of tonight’s near miss. If only boys would give you a bit more warning of an imminent kiss. A yell of ‘Incoming!’ or something.

  It was getting late. I fed Snookums and Bebe their evening meal, then traipsed back into my room. I reflected on my conversation with Cassie. As always, she’d restored my peace of mind and strengthened my focus, like only a childhood bestie can. Dating can certainly drag a girl down, especially if the pressure is on to set an example for others.

  I haven’t told you yet about one of the most important aspects of my life: the Find a Prince Program™ (FPP). It’s a self-help program for teenage girls that I designed myself. Over many years of negotiating the minefield that is the high-school dating scene, I’ve seen girls get their hearts maimed by boys left, right and centre. Consequently, I decided that any investment of my heart had to be soundly investigated beforehand. Call me calculating, but I want to invest my time and emotions in a guy who thoroughly deserves them. Aka a Prince.

  Now, many girls would probably get sarcastic at this point and say that the whole idea of Prince Charming is ridiculously outdated. However, my Find a Prince Program™ has nothing to do with glass slippers, poisoned apples or talking woodland animals. It’s about us girls valuing ourselves and saying no to guys who use or abuse us. Guys who play around with our feelings like it’s a form of sport. Guys who consider a relationship to be code for gaining a more intimate knowledge of our bra size. It’s about realising we deserve better. The FPP’s chief decree is that every girl deserves to be treated like a princess. And who better to do that than a Prince?

  A Prince:

  • Has Principles. He stands up for what he knows to be right
instead of going along with the crowd.

  • Recognises your worth. He understands how special you are and treats you with respect and kindness.

  • Possesses Integrity. He’s genuine with his feelings and won’t mislead you for underhanded or selfish purposes.

  • Never doubts that you’re the only one for him.

  • Is Constant. He stands by you through the sunshine and the shadows.

  • Possesses Endurance. He’s willing to overcome considerable obstacles to win your affection.

  This list might sound a bit full-on, but I don’t think any girl should compromise when it comes to how a guy treats her.

  That’s not to say we should lie around waiting like some damsel in distress. Part Two of the FPP is realising that a modern princess makes her own destiny. I always keep my eyes open for Potential Prince Candidates (PPCs) and take advantage of dates to assess a guy’s prospective princely qualities.

  So far, only Cassie and I are following the program, though I plan to take it to the next level once we’ve got results. It’s taking some time, which I put down to the often abysmal choices provided by high-school boys, who, sadly, have their minds on spitballs instead of soul mates. Hopefully this year, heading into Year Eleven, things would be more promising.

  CHAPTER 2

  The Glide-By

  ‘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, finding 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.