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How to Keep a Boy from Kissing You

Page 7

by Tara Eglington


  Sara was on a roll.

  ‘What if Tyler is there?’ Lindsay cut in. ‘That’s not going to help my recovery.’

  ‘Guys!’ I felt frustrated that my idea wasn’t being met with unanimous positivity. ‘This isn’t about uncoordinated costumes or ex-boyfriends! It’s about spending time together in the exciting and dynamic world of theatre!’

  Jelena laughed. ‘Jefferson High’s drama department is hardly Broadway.’

  ‘Sara, I think you’d love it.’ I looked pleadingly at her. ‘Shakespeare’s plays always have strong roles for women.’

  Sara had a thoughtful look on her face.

  ‘So, Cass, Sara and I are in,’ I said. ‘Lindsay?’

  ‘Tyler’s not going to be involved,’ Cassie said. ‘It’ll clash with footy practice.’

  ‘I guess it’s a good idea,’ Lindsay said. ‘And hopefully distracting.’

  We all turned to look at Jelena. She was still blowing bubbles nonchalantly.

  This was completely frustrating. One word from her and she’d have everybody changing their minds again.

  I flipped to the ground in an Olympic-gymnast-takes-gold move. ‘Guys, Much Ado About Nothing —’

  ‘— is one of Shakespeare’s best comedies,’ Hayden Paris said, stopping as he strolled past. ‘Being involved in the production means a seriously good time. I’ve been looking forward to it for months.’

  I couldn’t believe that I’d forgotten Hayden was a member of the drama club. The prospect of spending more time in his presence made me want to drop the theatre idea altogether. But there was no way that an independent woman like me would turn down an opportunity because of a man. I’d just have to grin and bear it.

  ‘What’s going to be a good time?’ Scott Ryder said, approaching us, Alex West by his side.

  At the sound of Scott’s voice, Cassie took a quick, panicky breath. As she’d been munching on a chocolate chip cookie at the same time, her breath became splutters.

  Alex gave Hayden a cool nod. ‘Alex West.’

  I noticed that he looked Hayden up and down carefully, just like he had done to us last week, before deciding to come closer. Unfortunately you can’t fault Hayden’s appearance. Even I have to admit that. Last year he came second in our annual High School Hotties poll. Some of those who voted should realise that looks aren’t everything — what about his pain-in-the-neck attitude?

  ‘So, what’s going to be a good time?’ Scott repeated.

  ‘A party, right?’ Alex gave a confident smile. ‘I’m ready for that. Good music, good liquor, good-looking girls?’ He sent a wink in Jelena’s direction.

  Jelena didn’t return it, probably on account of her opinion that excessive facial gestures lead to the need for Botox at an early age.

  ‘No, not a party.’ Hayden frowned slightly, presumably unhappy about the ‘good liquor’ remark. He’s a member of SADD (Students Against Drunk Driving), and Alex, like all of us, was underage. But he didn’t say anything further. After all, who was to say that Alex didn’t take public transport after consuming alcohol? Not that I condone hardcore drinking. I’ve noticed that alcohol just seems to lead to embarrassing situations. I have enough of those already.

  ‘I haven’t introduced Scott to you,’ Hayden said, turning to my friends perched on the monkey bars.

  ‘We’ve already met Aurora, Jelena and Cassie,’ Scott said, waving at us three.

  ‘Lindsay and Sara,’ Hayden said, completing the group.

  Jelena, mid-conversation with Alex about some of the wilder parties at his former school — ‘and then we built a flying fox to launch ourselves over the pool’, he was saying — suddenly slid from the top of the bars gracefully and glided towards a picnic table, without looking back at us. This move is known as the Location Indication. When talking to a guy, to assess his interest in continuing the conversation you abruptly move towards a new spot. If he follows you, it means he’s into you rather than enduring your company out of politeness. Jelena likes this move because she says it makes you look like a leader, not a follower.

  Alex strolled after her and they sat down at the picnic table across from each other. Cassie, Lindsay, Sara and I, all clued in to the manoeuvre, joined them. Scott placed himself next to Cassie on the bench. With everyone crowded at the one table there was only a smidgen of room left for me at Cassie’s end.

  Hayden made an elaborate gesture of sweeping the bench with his napkin. ‘All ready, Your Highness.’

  I rolled my eyes but sat down. No-one wearing the nude heels that my mother had bought me on our ill-fated shopping trip would refuse a seat. The shoes were killers.

  ‘Hope you don’t mind if I sit next to you.’ He didn’t wait for an answer. Suddenly Hayden was squished up next to me, his elbow and knee touching mine. ‘We always sit near each other in class …’ he started.

  ‘Not by choice.’ I pulled my hair away from the side he was on.

  ‘… so I decided I’d better stick with what I know,’ he continued. ‘You know, in case breaking the routine brings on panicky feelings.’

  ‘Don’t you think this bordering-on-claustrophobic level of proximity is more likely to increase panicky feelings?’

  We were practically sitting on top of one another.

  ‘The soothing scent of your perfume is calming my panicky tendencies,’ he murmured in a low, mock-Mills-&-Boon-hero voice.

  I leant as far away from him as possible, virtually knocking Cassie into Scott’s lap. She blushed terribly. Oh well, she’d thank me later. No woman on earth would have complained about being in close contact with Scott Ryder. Unlike my situation with Hayden.

  ‘Vanilla, right?’ Hayden asked in a normal voice.

  ‘Vanilla what?’ I replied, distracted by Cassie’s embarrassment when Scott asked her a question. She had to ask him to repeat it, obviously distracted by their close contact.

  ‘Your perfume. Anything to do with Cosmo’s useful fact for the month of January that men associate the smell of vanilla with attraction?’

  ‘I’m worried about you, Paris. How many of those magazines are you reading? Is there something you’re not telling us?’

  I missed Hayden’s reply as I heard Jelena saying the last thing I’d ever expected.

  ‘We’re all getting involved in the production of Much Ado About Nothing. Everyone who has the tiniest shred of attitude will be there.’ She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

  ‘Attitude, hey?’ Alex raised an eyebrow of his own. ‘When’s the audition?’

  ‘Tomorrow afternoon. Are you thinking of getting involved?’

  Jelena’s tone was light, but I could tell she really wanted an affirmative answer from Alex.

  I couldn’t believe she was claiming my idea as her own. She hadn’t cared less about the play ten minutes ago. Jelena was going to have no problem running an international company if she was already so quick to take credit for other people’s ideas. I could feel a scowl forming on my face. I supposed I should have been happy that Jelena was now on board for the production, but I didn’t like the fact that her swift turnaround was probably driven by her realisation that the play could give her better access to Alex.

  ‘Well, as it seems that the most gorgeous girls at Jefferson High are involved, I’d better be too,’ Alex replied.

  A satisfied smile spread over Jelena’s lips.

  ‘Hey, Ryder. You into auditioning for the Shakespeare production?’ Alex asked Scott.

  Before he could form a reply, I spoke up. ‘Cassie’s going to be painting the backdrops. She’s a fantastic painter.’

  Cassie shot me a you’re-being-so-obvious! look. Little did she realise that guys are completely clueless when it comes to girls’ crushes. You could hire a skywriter to scrawl your feelings above your crush’s house and he’d still scratch his head and go ‘hmm’.

  ‘You paint?’ Scott’s voice was suddenly excited. ‘That’s so cool. I sculpt! Do you work in other mediums as well?’

  A co
mmon passion — this was so going to up their chances as a couple!

  ‘I like watercolours best,’ Cassie said, ‘but I also use acrylics and pastels. I’m thinking of trying oil paints but maybe that’s a bit ambitious at the moment.’

  At that moment, the bell sounded.

  Alex grabbed his bag. ‘Ladies, we’ll be seeing you at the audition tomorrow. Right, Scott?’

  We all turned to hear Scott’s reply. I had a feeling Cassie was holding her breath.

  ‘Without a doubt.’ Scott gave us a wave and headed after Alex.

  CHAPTER 7

  Death, Dragons and Dating in the Medieval World

  ‘Victims’ skin turned dark grey. Their lymph nodes swelled — sometimes to the size of an egg, sometimes to the size of an apple. Then the swollen lymph glands would burst!’

  Jeffrey Clark yelled the last word, making everyone in Mr Bannerman’s Tuesday morning history class jump. It was oral-presentation day and out of all the medieval topics Jeffrey could have chosen, he’d decided upon the Black Death.

  ‘Dead littered the streets — in doorways, on stairwells. No-one, not even priests, went near the hideous carcasses.’

  Everyone shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Even Mr Bannerman was grimacing slightly. I tried to ignore my increasing nausea as Jeffrey went into detail about the three forms of the plague.

  ‘The septicaemic form had close to a hundred per cent fatality rate. It attacked the blood system and meant a horrendously painful death within twenty-four hours.’

  I took several deep breaths. I was not going to be sick in history class. It was time to distract myself. I looked at Mr Bannerman, who was looking wide-eyed at the slides Jeffrey was showing of modern-day plague victims in Africa. There was no way he’d notice a quiet whisper.

  ‘I can’t believe Jelena used my idea to get Alex and Scott involved in Much Ado About Nothing,’ I whispered to Cassie, checking to see that Scott couldn’t hear me. He too was transfixed by Jeffrey’s slides.

  ‘I know,’ Cassie whispered back.

  ‘And all she said when I questioned her about it was, “It’s the end result that matters, Aurora. You were busy with Hayden —”’

  Hayden turned around in response to his name. I waved my hand in a this-doesn’t-concern-you motion. He mouthed ‘Sure’ and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively before reluctantly turning to face the front again. Seemed he was seeking distraction from Jeffrey’s presentation too.

  I continued my conversation with Cassie. ‘So Jelena reckoned she had to take matters in her own hands before the opportunity passed us by.’ I took a breath. ‘Then she acted like I didn’t want the best for you and her.’

  ‘According to Boccaccio, “Victims often ate lunch with their friends and ate dinner with their ancestors in Paradise,”’ Jeffrey quoted.

  Did he have to pay so much attention to detail?

  ‘You know me,’ I said to Cassie, distancing myself from Jeffrey’s world of disease, ‘I’m not one to hold an unnecessary grudge. What’s important is that we’re all involved in the production. Including Alex and Scott.’ I said the last sentence as quietly as possible.

  ‘He hasn’t looked at me since class started,’ Cassie whispered.

  ‘Cass, it’s hardly a romantic atmosphere in here.’

  Jeffrey was handing out photocopies of an artist’s version of the Black Death — which depicted hundreds of skeletons running amok in a village and greedily snatching up souls.

  ‘We really need codenames for said romantic interests,’ I mused.

  Cassie’s eyes were twinkling. She smothered a giggle and wrote something down on a scrap of notebook paper. She passed it to me and I unfolded it eagerly.

  DB — Dimple Boy (or Dimple Babe).

  We burst out into giggles, which we quickly muffled.

  ‘By the time the bubonic plague ended, one third of Europe’s population had died,’ Jeffrey finished with a flourish.

  There was a stunned silence from his audience.

  ‘Great job, Jeffrey,’ Mr Bannerman stuttered. ‘Very … ah, well researched. Aurora, you’re up! Our second-last presentation today!’

  Mr Bannerman looked relieved. Jeffrey’s presentation had obviously taken its toll.

  I gathered my notes and strode to the front of the room. I regard oral presentations as great practice for when I’m a wildly successful author and have to go on book tours.

  ‘Good morning, everyone! Today I’m going to discuss courtly love.’

  ‘Courtney Love? Isn’t she that angry chick who throws microphone stands into crowds? Wrong time, Aurora. This is medieval history,’ Jeffrey butted in.

  I took a deep breath. My job was to bring knowledge to the ignorant. Like Moses, descending from the mountain with the Ten Commandments. I had to be patient.

  ‘Courtly love was a system of admiration and courtship during the Middle Ages,’ I read off my index cards. ‘Just like we have rules for dating, like the timing of a post-date text, people in the Middle Ages had particular rules when it came to expressing their interest in someone. Courtly love was mostly practised by the aristocracy —’

  ‘Aristawhatnow?’ Jeffrey asked.

  ‘Noble lords and ladies,’ I explained. ‘According to courtly love, a knight,’ I pointed to a picture (props are key when educating the ignorant), ‘would form an affection for a worthy lady. This lady was often unavailable — either married to someone else or of a higher status.’

  ‘So it was unrequited love?’ Hayden asked.

  ‘Well, it was unrequited in that it was usually impossible for the man to marry the woman he loved. In medieval times, people didn’t marry for love, but for political or territorial gain,’ I replied. ‘So in order to explore the idea of love, a man would practise courtly love.’

  I’d been quite disappointed to find out the truth about medieval marriages. Just think, in a time when you had a chance to marry a real prince, you couldn’t say yes without considering all the respective parties and their concerns.

  ‘The knight would woo the lady according to the rules of courtly love.’ I pointed to a picture of a knight bowing to a lady. ‘He would write her love poems and songs, give her flowers and gifts, and perform ceremonial gestures indicating his regard for her.’

  ‘Bring on courtly love!’ cried Emma Grant.

  All the girls in the room let out a cheer. ‘Courtly love! Courtly love!’ they chanted.

  Ooh! I was starting a movement!

  ‘Oh man. What are they going to expect us to do now?’ a male voice moaned.

  ‘Yeah, this courtly love stuff sounds like too much effort,’ another guy complained.

  I craned my neck to see which two guys had spoken. They were so not future dating candidates.

  ‘One of the main principles of courtly love was that a lady would inspire a man to do great deeds to prove he was worthy,’ I continued. ‘A knight might conquer a country, climb a mountain or suffer intense pain, all the time hoping to win the lady’s favour.’

  The girls in the class sighed. What woman wouldn’t want to know that a man would do anything for her?

  I passed out a sheet of paper listing the rules of courtly love, reading a few choice statements to my audience.

  ‘Boys do not love until the age of maturity.’

  ‘Yeah! Like thirty!’ Emma piped up.

  ‘Like never!’ Kate Hanson cried.

  ‘Mr Bannerman, Aurora’s presentation is sexist,’ Jeffrey complained.

  ‘Someone not secure enough in his masculinity to handle a little criticism?’ Kate quipped.

  ‘Looking for signs of love, ladies?’ I asked. ‘It’s all here. A lover regularly turns pale in the presence of his beloved. When a lover catches sight of his beloved, his heart palpitates.’

  ‘It’s palpitating, it’s palpitating!’ Jeffrey cried, clutching his chest.

  Kate rolled her eyes. ‘Your heart palpitates at the sight of any female.’

  ‘And remember, everyo
ne, a true lover does not desire to embrace anyone but his beloved,’ I said. ‘So figure out who you love, consult the courtly love rules of conduct, then go for it. The possibility of living happily ever after is available to you all, even in our modern times!’ I finished triumphantly. You should always end a speech with a motivational statement.

  My audience broke out in applause, several of the female contingent whistling in approval. I sat down and Cassie gave me a high five.

  ‘Okay. Last up … Mr Hayden Paris!’ Mr Bannerman sounded cheerful again. My presentation had obviously lifted his mood.

  ‘Ready for an even better talk on courtly love?’ Hayden whispered to me as he got up out of his seat.

  I looked up in horror. ‘You wouldn’t dare. You know I claimed that topic.’

  ‘Watch me,’ he said calmly.

  I shot Cassie an outraged look. ‘He can’t do this!’ I hissed.

  ‘Morning, everyone.’ Hayden smiled his infuriatingly perfect smile.

  All the girls straightened up. Some people shamefully treated oral-presentation lessons as a perving opportunity.

  ‘I’m actually going to be discussing a topic very similar to Aurora’s.’

  Everyone whistled.

  ‘Did you do the courtly love research together?’ Jeffrey asked in a singsong voice.

  ‘Ooh!’ the room chorused.

  ‘All research was conducted separately!’ I cried, half-standing. Cassie tugged at my arm, pulling me back down.

  Hayden just smiled again. ‘I’ll be discussing medieval knights and the code of chivalry.’

  ‘Lucky for you,’ I muttered, and sat there with folded arms as Hayden went through the stages required to become a knight.

  ‘Knights began their training at an early age. At seven years old, a boy might be sent to a neighbouring kingdom to become a page. They were instructed on courtesy, cleanliness, religion and other vital concerns by the women of the castle. A page became a squire at age fourteen. When a squire was of age — usually between eighteen and twenty-one — he was made a knight. This involved a night of prayer in a church before swearing to uphold the chivalric code,’ Hayden explained. ‘He pledged to fight against injustice,’ he wrote the words on the board, ‘and vowed to treat everyone with kindness, act with honour, respect women and assist the weak and defenceless whenever he could. He had to be truthful and modest —’

 

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