How to Convince a Boy to Kiss You

by Tara Eglington

  We all looked at her blankly.

  ‘God, I’m having serious doubts about allowing any of you fuzzy-headed people onto my campaign team,’ Jelena said, rolling her eyes. ‘School captain elections?’

  ‘The elections are starting already?’ Lindsay asked. ‘How can you run for school captain when you’re in Year Eleven?’

  Jelena stared at her. ‘You seriously know nothing about student government?’

  ‘Not all of us are wannabe Napoleons,’ Sara said.

  Jelena ignored her. ‘The changeover of school captains happens at the end of third term, when Year Twelve go into their study break prior to their final exams. Obviously the outgoing captain makes the graduation speech for their year and all that, but they don’t have time to be as involved in the day-to-day politics of the school. So that’s when the new captain starts to take the reins a little more, before the school falls entirely under their command the next year.’

  ‘Under their command?’ I raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Well, in essence,’ Jelena said, examining her ice-blue manicure. ‘There’s the usual tier of vice-president, treasurer, class representatives, etc., but the main power lies with the captain.’

  She noticed my expression. ‘Don’t give me that look, Aurora. I’m not talking about despotism. But the reality is, even in a democracy, that people want to be led by someone. They want someone else to make the decisions for them. If it wasn’t for the alpha students taking charge, this school would be in a shambles due to sheer laziness.’

  ‘Is Hayden running?’ Cassie asked me.

  I looked over to where Hayden had taken a seat with the other school-council members. He’d been on the council pretty much since we’d started high school and had organised plenty of charity days, assemblies and award nights over the past four years.

  ‘He’d be perfect,’ Sara sighed. ‘He’d look great on the electoral posters. Totally Kennedy-esque.’

  ‘Hey!’ Jelena hit Sara with her leather-bound Tiffany notebook. ‘You can’t be swayed by my political opponents’ hotness. You’re meant to be gunning for Team Jelena!’

  ‘Hayden isn’t running,’ I said. ‘He loves being on the council, but he thinks being school captain is too much on top of aiming for a ninety-eight-plus score in his finals.’

  Thankfully, I thought, as I was far too accident-prone to convey the poise and elegance that Jackie Kennedy and Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy had so naturally exuded. Politically savvy girlfriend material I was not.

  ‘What does he want the score for?’ Cassie asked.

  ‘International law,’ I replied. ‘You know, an extension of his whole James Bond, saving-the-world thing. Reassuringly, law comes with fewer evil villains and more job security than the life of an international spy.’

  ‘Okay, so Hayden’s out of the running.’ Jelena rubbed her hands together. ‘Brilliant. One less adversary to slay.’

  Sara looked at her uneasily. ‘You sound like you’re quoting from The Hunger Games. I’m not sure this is the greatest idea.’

  I pictured Jelena tearing towards the other candidates, scythe in hand, her piercing blue eyes steely.

  Jelena shrugged. ‘Hey, Obama said politics is a contact sport. It can get rough at times.’

  ‘Why now?’ Cass asked. ‘You haven’t run for class captain in previous years.’

  ‘I didn’t want to exert too much energy too early on,’ Jelena replied. ‘A true leader knows when to stay quiet and when to strike. Plus, this way I’m a dark horse. Our schoolmates know that I’ve been involved in organising everything from sports days to drama productions, but no-one knows my personal policies, so when I finally reveal my agenda I can blow everyone away.’

  ‘What are your personal policies?’ Lindsay asked.

  ‘You will see, my friends, you will see,’ Jelena replied mysteriously. ‘So, on to practicalities. Besides the duties I’d naturally expect my best friends to fulfil in the crucial phase ahead —’

  Sara snickered. ‘Duties meaning slavedom.’

  Jelena didn’t bother to correct Sara’s probably accurate assumption. ‘I’m thinking I’ll need two of you on a more or less fulltime basis during the election period. Aurora, I’m keen to use you because of your way with words. You know, Frederick the Great had Voltaire. Men and women in elevated stations need someone to keep them connected to the hearts and minds of the common people.’

  ‘OMG.’ Sara buried her head in her hands.

  ‘“Common people” isn’t exactly the most flattering term,’ I replied, trying not to laugh. ‘We kind of want the student body to think you’re of the people, not above them.’

  ‘You see!’ Jelena grabbed my arm. ‘You’re working your wordsmith magic already!’

  All flattery aside, I had to admit that Jelena’s enthusiasm was contagious. She was right: someone needed to lead the school in a positive direction. I hated to say it, but there was a lot of complacency amongst our student body. I’d seen Jelena’s take-charge attitude in action in her recent role as stage manager of Much Ado About Nothing and the production had been a spectacular success. A little tweaking of her tendency towards condescension and we would have a dynamic leader on our hands. She’d be sure to give us a memorable formal for one thing.

  ‘I don’t know about wielding words as masterfully as Voltaire, but I’m in,’ I replied, giving Jelena a grin.

  ‘Fantastic. You won’t regret this, Aurora. The schoolyard is a training ground for the boardrooms to come. An association with the school captaincy campaign won’t be overlooked by future employers.’

  The bell sounded to call us into assembly. But instead of following us, Jelena sprinted off in the opposite direction, towards the woodwork block.

  ‘That’s it, Jelena’s decided that Mr Quinten is a lacklustre principal and she’s leaving,’ Sara said.

  Knowing Jelena, she’d probably used her persuasion skills on the office staff to let her make more efficient use of the hour it usually took Mr Quinten to deliver the results of the latest soccer match, summarise the highlights of the autumn fair and run through the usual sprinkling of award-giving. In other words, she was probably heading off to sit under a tree in the courtyard and listen to a motivational podcast while giving herself a manicure, and checking the time off as a study period.

  ‘Okay, everyone, please take your seats!’ Mr Quinten’s voice boomed over the microphone as we filed into the auditorium. ‘First matter on the agenda — the upcoming school captain elections. I have the list of those campaigning to be our leader next year. Our first cab off the rank is Julie Rivers!’

  That wasn’t a surprise. Julie had been gunning for school captain since the day she’d learnt the word ‘leader’ in Year One. She had been school captain at our primary school, class captain in Years Seven, Eight and Ten, and was already captain of the Endeavour sports house. She and Hayden had served on dozens of committees together, ranging from deciding what colour to paint the new study rooms to how the proceeds from Waffle Day should be spent.

  We all applauded duly.

  ‘Second campaigner — our always-gives-it-his-all Matt Stevens!’

  Now that was a surprise. I would have expected Matt Stevens, Jefferson’s undisputed sports star, to spend his final year focusing on his goal of turning professional athlete. Last time I’d overheard him chatting during gym class, he’d been debating whether to focus on cricket, rugby or his new obsession, triathlon. You almost never saw him without a protein shake in his hand.

  ‘People, it’s time to get motivated!’ Matt yelled, doing a flying long jump over the two people sitting between him and the aisle. ‘On the field, in the water, academically, I’m all about results. Results are one per cent inspiration and ninety-nine per cent perspiration. And I can assure you, I’m gonna sweat for this school!’

  ‘Ew!’ Amber Jenkins, a couple of seats down from me, wrinkled her nose. ‘How is this school going to benefit from the liquid exuded from Matt’s armpits?’


  ‘I don’t think he means it literally,’ Anna Parrish, her best friend, whispered.

  Matt did a backflip in the aisle as members of the rugby team leapt up from their spots across the auditorium and ran towards him. They got into a huddle before busting out into a triumphant group air punch and yelling, ‘Get motivated!’

  ‘He’ll probably do squats while he delivers his election speech,’ Sara said wryly.

  ‘Okay, boys, exciting stuff, but let’s keep it for the official campaign trail, as we call it — there are several weeks ahead of us.’ Mr Quinten gave Matt and his team an indulgent smile as he gestured for them to take their seats. ‘Third candidate is … Jelena Cantrill!’

  The auditorium doors flew open to reveal Jelena looking illustrious in a flowing imperial purple gown, perched atop a Roman-style lectica — a chair with its legs lashed to long wooden poles that had been spray-painted gold. Four members of the rowing team carried the contraption, and Jelena, on their shoulders. They were accompanied by two members of the school’s orchestra beating out a rhythm on bongo drums, and Meg Frankel playing an oriental-sounding tune on her flute. All Jelena’s companions were dressed in white, including the chair-carriers, who were also naked to the waist. Smoke rose from scented incense sticks positioned on either side of Jelena. After pausing for dramatic effect, the party slowly and ceremoniously made its way down the aisle to cheers and whistles from the crowd.

  ‘OMG.’ Sara stared at the lectica. ‘So this is what the boys in my woodwork class have been working on for the past week.’

  I’d thought it odd when I found Jelena speed-reading Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra at recess last week, but her reason for studying Act Two, Scene Two was abundantly clear now. It might not be on a barge, but the golden lectica was certainly akin to Cleopatra’s ‘burnished throne’. As always, Shakespeare kicked butt when it came to epic scenes.

  ‘You’re meant to be gunning for Matt!’ one of the rugby guys shouted at the rowers carrying the chair.

  ‘Well, maybe if you made the rowing team feel more welcome we would be!’ Jamie, one of the rowers, shouted back.

  There was a longstanding and bitter feud between the rugby and soccer teams and the rowers, who weren’t considered ‘true athletes’ by the others.

  ‘Wow, I didn’t know Jelena was running. Now I have to choose between Matt and the Goddess,’ said one of the rugby team members, sitting just to our right. He looked torn at the prospect.

  ‘Matt’s a great guy, but man, I have to admit I’d prefer to watch Jelena give all the speeches for the next year,’ another team member replied. ‘I tune out for most of them anyway, but at least with her as captain we’d have something good to look at.’

  I was betting that although the rugby team had publicly pledged themselves to Matt, Jelena could count on a high number of secret votes from that sector.

  The lectica reached our row. Cass jumped up and down with excitement, clapping her hands in support. Lindsay was grinning. We all let out a cheer and Jelena tossed white rose petals our way as a tribute.

  ‘I’m cheering as her friend, not in support of the slavery tradition she’s re-enacting,’ Sara said after letting out a whoop.

  Jeffrey Clark bowed deeply as the lectica travelled past. ‘Thou shalt be my queen!’

  Jelena blew Jeffrey a kiss and he mock-fainted. Travis Ela caught him and heaved him back into his seat, simultaneously bowing in servitude to the lectica. There was no doubt that Jelena knew how to win over a crowd.

  The lectica reached the stage and the rowers lowered it to the ground. Jamie reached out a hand to help Jelena from her seat. She stood and the long folds of her dress fell dramatically to the ground. As she made her way to the microphone, the drummers and flautist stopped playing. Jelena raised her hands to command silence from the cheering crowd.

  ‘Seventy thousand, two hundred,’ Jelena uttered as the auditorium went quiet.

  ‘Is that a code?’ someone whispered in the row behind us.

  ‘This is all feeling very cult-like,’ Sara said, shaking her head.

  Lindsay shrugged. ‘This is high school, otherwise known as conformity central.’

  ‘Hey, at least she’s stirring souls,’ I whispered. This was the most enthused I’d seen our schoolmates since the day we’d won Ben & Jerry’s ice-cream pre-summer break.

  ‘That’s approximately how many minutes a year we spend at school,’ Jelena went on.

  A chorus of groans rang out across the auditorium.

  ‘Multiply that by six — the number of years we spend in high school — and that’s four hundred and twenty-one thousand, two hundred minutes of our lives spent at Jefferson.’

  ‘Classmates, I have a dream!’ Jeffrey shouted. ‘To live free!’

  ‘Mr Clark, this is Ms Cantrill’s speech, not yours!’ Mr Quinten looked uneasy. He was probably fearing a revolution.

  ‘As Jeffrey says,’ Jelena continued, ‘we all have a dream to be free. But for most of us, freedom will not come until we have our Year Twelve certificate. For some of you, that may be later this year. For my class, it’s late next year. For others, it may be closer to six years away.’

  There were more groans.

  ‘I can’t bear it!’ Travis mock-sobbed, his head in his hands.

  ‘But as your school captain, I could offer you an escape!’ Jelena cried, her voice triumphant. ‘We may be confined here at Jefferson for six hours a day, but I would transform the cage that encloses us.’ She paused for effect. ‘What I want to give you is a truly luxuriant high-school experience.’

  Everyone was quiet.

  ‘Yes, I care about amping up our charity work,’ Jelena said. ‘I care about ensuring the food choices available from our canteen give you the best chance for a hot bod.’

  That was met with a cheer.

  ‘But I also care about feeding your souls. Giving you moments of play and pleasure amongst the drudgery. That’s why I’m inviting you to a decadent event this Friday night, to give you a taste of what a year under my captaincy would be like.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll be under your captaincy anytime!’ Rob Nelson bellowed from the row behind us. Sara clutched her ears in pain. ‘You just tell me your bidding, baby!’

  ‘Not only will your senses be enthralled and your stomachs filled with food and drink, but everyone who attends the event will also have the chance to participate in one of my beneficial programs,’ Jelena went on. ‘I am offering three attendees the opportunity to take part in the Find a Prince/Princess Program™, run by the brilliant and visionary Aurora Skye.’

  What?

  Lindsay, Sara and Cassie all turned to stare at me.

  ‘I didn’t know your program was part of the campaign,’ Cass said.

  ‘I didn’t either,’ I whispered, not wanting anyone to overhear. I might be in shock, but I was still on Jelena’s election team and I didn’t want to suggest any lack of planning on her part.

  ‘I don’t know if it’s a good idea to take advice from Lethal Lips!’ someone yelled out.

  The crowd erupted into laughter.

  I wanted to hide under my seat. Instead I used all my focus to stare straight ahead and appear poised, as if Jelena unleashing my program on the entire school had been discussed and agreed upon.

  Sara craned her neck to see who’d yelled out. ‘It sounded like Daniel Benis,’ she said.

  Okay, so Daniel had been stabbed in the eye earlier this year during one of my Operation Stop Kiss manoeuvres, so he might be lacking faith when it came to my dating practices. Still, he didn’t have to share it with the entire school!

  Jelena gave Daniel a disparaging look. ‘If you know what’s good for you, you’ll do away with that ridiculous nickname. Aurora Skye is responsible for bringing together two of this school’s golden couples: the legendary TylerandLindsay, and our equivalent of Brangelina — Cassie and Scott.’

  A bunch of people turned to stare at Cassie. She blushed.

  Please, please, could
Jelena refrain from mentioning Hayden and me, I prayed silently. Just about everyone had heard about the lip-lashing, but what privacy I had left I desperately wanted to keep.

  ‘Evidently Aurora knows her stuff,’ Jelena continued, and I heard people murmur agreement. ‘Her program will be made public in a few weeks, but before then three lucky people will enjoy the benefits of her expertise, without the hefty price tag.’

  Hefty price tag? Sure, I had an empire to build, but I hadn’t planned to start by charging through the nose.

  ‘I offer you all the opportunity to see your school as you know it utterly transformed,’ Jelena finished triumphantly. ‘Thank you for your support and I’ll see you on Friday night.’

  She blew the crowd a kiss and took a bow. The auditorium curtains dramatically swooped closed. Mr Quinten, unprepared, had to leap off the stage to avoid being hit by the heavy red drapes.

  ‘Uh, thank you, Jelena,’ he said. ‘We hadn’t planned on speeches, but that one was very theatrical.’

  Jelena gave him a queenly wave as she made her way down the stairs to the auditorium floor.

  CHAPTER 6

  ‘Jelena, we have to talk,’ I whispered as soon as she sat down with us. ‘That was a fabulous speech, but roping in my matchmaking program?’

  ‘We’ll discuss details after assembly,’ Jelena said. ‘It’s confidential material.’

  ‘That’s what I mean! Only you guys knew about the program — I was waiting until the ideal time to launch it.’

  Jelena smiled. ‘Precisely! This is the perfect platform. There’s a new movement sweeping in, Aurora, and you’re a part of it.’

  ‘I know there’s going to be a lot of attention because of the campaign, but in terms of ideal timing I meant a moment when my dating foibles weren’t still fresh in everyone’s minds. You heard Daniel Benis.’

  Jelena rolled her eyes. ‘He’s just bitter you wound up with Hayden — everyone knows that. Anyway, let’s leave this till after assembly. I don’t want the masses having access to any of our brilliant ideas ahead of schedule.’