How to Convince a Boy to Kiss You

by Tara Eglington

  ‘Wow. Right out of The Notebook,’ Lindsay said.

  ‘A guy who stops the car to look at the stars.’ Chloe was grinning. ‘Who kisses me before I finish a sentence because he just can’t wait one second longer to have me in his arms.’

  She and Lindsay sighed simultaneously.

  ‘Okay, he’s spontaneous, loves nature and is highly affectionate. We can make this happen,’ I said, assuring myself as much as Chloe. ‘Any other particulars? Preferences on appearance?’

  ‘No, I just want an expressive soul; it’s intellect that makes me go weak at the knees.’

  We paid the bill and a very cheery Chloe headed off to her piano lesson, a hobby she’d thrown herself into following the break-up. I’d seen her passionate performance of a Rachmaninoff piece at assembly.

  ‘I really like her,’ Lindsay said as we walked home. ‘She’s done well not to end up cynical after what Max put her through.’

  ‘Yes, she has.’

  I had to admit, I was surprised that she hadn’t seemed more apprehensive about returning to the dating game. Maybe the year alone had taught her what she was looking for in a relationship. She obviously trusted Lindsay and me to help her achieve it.

  ‘I get the feeling she’s ready to fall hard again,’ I added. ‘But we have to be really careful to make sure it’s the right guy she falls for.’

  Fall. It was a funny word for it. You never knew if you were in for a slight trip or a plummet off a cliff.

  I stopped at the corner where Lindsay and I always parted ways. ‘Lindsay, what we’re doing is actually pretty serious.’

  She took in my expression. ‘It’s good that you’re taking it seriously, Aurora. That’s what matchmakers do. They know the magnitude of bringing males and females together.’

  ‘So do you,’ I said.

  I suddenly realised that after meeting with Chloe, Lindsay was highly invested in being part of the program. She knew what lost love felt like, and she wanted to spare other girls the experience.

  ‘So, now what?’ she asked.

  ‘I just have to wait for Hayden to finish up the dating database program, so we can start using the Chemistry Calculator to derive the matches.’

  I was thinking I’d actually give him a call — he’d be sure to have some tips for improving Jeffrey’s luck with the ladies. After Lindsay had headed off home, I pulled out my phone. I couldn’t wait to tell Hayden about Jeffrey and Chloe and what they were looking for in a soul mate.

  Wait a minute, I’d already got a message. A text from Hayden, sent just before school had finished.

  Hey, Princess, still thinking about yesterday. So happy you liked the necklace. Didn’t get a chance to tell you that my parents extended my grounding after we got caught on Saturday night. Am rationing the chocolate-chip cookies so they last me through to Monday, when I’m a free man again! Mum and Dad only let me have the mobile when I’m at school so don’t bother texting back — just wanted you to know I’m thinking of you. At least the grounding has got me working hard — should have the database ready for you to run tomorrow. xo

  Monday! He made it sound like it was right round the corner, not almost a week away! This coming weekend would be the second one we’d lost.

  Maybe I was being too impatient. After all, Sleeping Beauty had toughed it out for one hundred years before her Prince came along. I guessed I should feel grateful I would still see Hayden at school. But it wasn’t the same. I wanted time alone with him, so we could escape to a place where it was only us and we could say what we wanted to say without having to whisper. If only I could go to sleep and wake up in six days’ time.

  CHAPTER 13

  I sat in my window seat when I got home, repeatedly touching the delicate chain and the tiny x. It was as if I needed to convince myself that they were real and the moment under the archway had actually happened. I lost an hour before I even realised it.

  My mobile rang and I raced to answer, illogically hoping it was Hayden. Of course it wasn’t. It was Mum calling. We hadn’t spoken since I’d done a runner from the bridal boutique. Part of me wanted to let the call go to voicemail like I had the other two times, but I had to be reasonable. She was my mother. Plus, the longer I left things, the frostier she was likely to get.

  ‘Hey, Mum,’ I answered, bracing myself for a telling-off.

  ‘Aurora.’ Her voice sounded unusually warm. ‘I’m glad to have reached you. I wanted to apologise.’

  ‘You wanted to what?’

  The word ‘apologise’ generally didn’t appear in the Avery dictionary. The sudden turnaround was unnerving.

  ‘Apologise,’ Mum repeated smoothly. ‘I realise that my remarrying was quite big news to take in. It has consequences for your life, so I should have broken it to you in a more considerate way. The bridal boutique was meant to be a surprise, but I’d forgotten you’re not partial to surprises any more, for some funny reason.’

  I wanted to say that most people would have developed a distrust of surprises after their family unit had collapsed via an answering machine message, but I held back. I’d got an apology — that was as much as Mum was ever likely to concede.

  ‘I was excited, I suppose,’ she continued. ‘I’m still hoping you’ll be my bridesmaid?’

  I didn’t know what to say. I still felt overwhelmed.

  ‘I know you’ll be reasonable,’ she said. ‘Yes, there was an unfortunate breakdown of our relationship due to your father badmouthing me —’

  My jaw clenched. ‘Dad didn’t badmouth you. He didn’t even talk about you.’

  He hadn’t been able to. His pain had been so deep that he’d had to communicate it through his home décor decisions. It had taken me a while to realise just how shattered his soul was. In English, Mrs Kent had read us a piece by an Aztec Indian: Now I know/why my father/would go out/and cry/in the rain. The words had made my chest so heavy it was like someone had piled stones on it. I’d avoided the NAD for days afterwards, scared that he’d realise I could see his grief marked out in every new lamp or towel, or fresh coat of paint he applied to the walls.

  ‘It’s the same thing,’ Mum replied. ‘He passed his bitterness on to you.’

  What did Mum expect — that the NAD would chatter brightly about her good qualities while we struggled to understand her preference for an Ibiza beach over her family? I thought Dad had been almost superhuman in the way he’d explained it to me. Throughout everything, all he’d said was that Mum was confused. He’d left me to come to my own conclusions about her character.

  Mum let out a sigh laced with irritation. ‘Your father needs to get past all of that. It was four years ago. Life’s moved on.’

  ‘Things don’t just magically fix themselves,’ I burst out.

  I couldn’t hold back any more. Did she expect the NAD and me to just forgive and forget? Sure, I’d managed to go from never wanting to speak to her again to letting her back into my life, but that didn’t cancel out all the emotions I’d felt over the last four years.

  ‘I’m trying to fix things,’ Mum said. ‘Why do you think I came back to Jefferson?’

  ‘You can’t claim you’re here solely for me. A weekly catch-up is hardly worth shifting across the globe for.’

  Mum sighed again. ‘I’m starting slow. Neither of us is ready right now for a regular mother–daughter closeness.’ She paused. ‘That’s why having you as my bridesmaid is important to me. It’s an opportunity for you to share in a significant part of my life.’

  I had the feeling that being her bridesmaid was just another form of pleasing her, like the school play and the short-lived foray into modelling had been.

  ‘I don’t even know the groom,’ I said.

  ‘That’s why I’m calling. I want you and Carlos to meet as soon as possible. Tuesday night, to be exact. You can meet some of our close friends at the same time.’

  Even though her voice was upbeat, I could tell she was apprehensive about me meeting Carlos. After all, he’d been compl
etely unaware she had a daughter, even after a year of dating. But I didn’t feel like I could say no. I supposed I needed to develop some kind of relationship with my future stepfather prior to this whirlwind wedding.

  ‘I’ll text you the address, darling,’ Mum said brightly before I could voice my agreement. ‘See you Tuesday, 7 pm. Oh, and dress elegantly, please. Cocktail attire. Heels too.’ And she hung up.

  I stared at my phone. How could one call change my mood so fast? My daydreaming about Hayden had now turned into a picture of me sitting at a dinner table with Mum, Carlos and their image-conscious friends, feeling uncomfortable and being ignored. I also felt uber-guilty that I still hadn’t broken the guess-who’s-getting-married news to the NAD.

  I stopped myself from sliding into a swamp of self-pity. If I wanted to stay upbeat and focused on the Find a Prince/Princess Program™, there was only one option — to not think about Tuesday night till Tuesday night actually arrived. I’d meet Carlos, and then at least I’d be able to describe him if the NAD launched into a series of how, why and when questions. In the meantime, I would busy myself with the matchmakees. My skills were certainly being tested there. I had one resistant candidate, one candidate who’d been shunned by all the boys at our school, and a third whom no-one took seriously. I needed to do some serious strategising if this whole thing was going to have the outcome Jelena and I hoped for.

  I sat down on the carpet and began pulling my extensive collection of dating guidebooks out of my bookcase. I was on the hunt for information about how to make someone fall in love. I began marking pages with little pink note flags.

  ‘I need a creaky bridge,’ I said to Jelena when we met the next morning during recess to discuss my progress.

  Jelena, to her credit, didn’t raise an eyebrow. ‘Okaaay. Odd request, but you do have some novel tactics when it comes to set-ups. Can you explain why before I do my best to source one?’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, momentarily stunned at the range of resources Jelena apparently had at her disposal. ‘It doesn’t have to be an actual bridge. Just something that simulates the sensation of danger for the matchmakees and their dates.’

  ‘What happened to flowers and candlelight?’ Lindsay asked as she joined us, laptop in hand. She sat down at our picnic table. ‘We need danger now? This is more intensive than first rounds of The Bachelor.’

  ‘It’s from a famous experiment,’ I explained. ‘These scientists got a bunch of men to cross a river one by one. One half of the group crossed via a broad, low bridge over a calm section of water. The other half had to cross via a spindly suspension bridge hundreds of feet above jagged boulders and wild rapids. At the middle of each bridge was a gorgeous young woman — one of the researchers. The woman asked each participant to fill out a questionnaire and when they were done she gave them her phone number and said if they had any questions they were welcome to call her at home. Out of the thirty-two men who crossed the scary bridge, nine were attracted enough to the woman to call her at home, whereas only two of the men who’d crossed the stable, non-exciting bridge called.

  ‘The scientists concluded that being on the treacherous bridge had spiked the men’s levels of dopamine — the hormone related to attraction. The men believed their heart was racing not because of the risky activity, but because of the gorgeous woman. There’ve been lots of studies since that have proved that couples who do novel and exciting things on their first date feel more bonded and are therefore more likely to proceed to a second date. Adrenaline’s like superglue when it comes to couple bonding.’

  The theory had made sense to me the second I’d read it — the girls and I had always rated the severity of a crush by how dizzy and speechless the guy made you. Sara had once broken out into a full body rash when she’d unexpectedly bumped into one crush at her corner shop. Red and white dots all over your chest and arms = utter infatuation.

  Lindsay grinned as I breathlessly finished my explanation. ‘Wow, that’s pretty cool stuff. I suppose when you think about it, that’s how it works in action movies. Like Speed — Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock pash at the end of the movie and, really, how long have they known each other? All of a couple of hours.’

  ‘It’s the same with natural disasters,’ I added. ‘In any situation where fear or anxiety is heightened, the heart’s way more likely to be kickstarted.’

  ‘How about a deserted island?’ Lindsay said. ‘Like Harrison Ford and Anne Heche in Six Days Seven Nights.’

  ‘Okay, tornadoes, floods and desertion on a tropical island are beyond the scope of my powers,’ Jelena replied. ‘Unless …’

  Was she about to tell us she had connections to Richard Branson and Necker Island? After her six degrees of separation from the publishing house, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

  ‘Unless we create a virtual simulation room,’ she finished, looking thoughtful. ‘I could talk to the tech guys. We might be able to rig something up.’

  ‘I’ve always wondered if two highly compatible people would fall for each other if they were locked in a room long enough,’ Lindsay pondered dreamily. ‘I don’t think Sara would be up for it though.’

  I laughed, thinking of a very irritated Sara trapped in a room and surrounded by fake thunder and lightning. ‘There’s no need for us to go to those lengths, guys. I’m thinking of maybe arranging some dates at an amusement park — one that has super-scary rides. Or a ghost tour. They say even a scary movie can do the trick.’

  ‘Guys love scary movies,’ Lindsay agreed. ‘It gives them the perfect excuse to put their arms around you.’

  Jelena shook her head. ‘I’m not doing this half-heartedly. We need happy-ever-afters for Sara, Jeffrey and Chloe at the end of this thing. These aren’t exactly straightforward set-ups, and I’m not taking any chances with Jeffrey. We need authentic adrenaline, people in fear for their life. Creaky bridge it is.’

  ‘You’re really going to find a bridge?’ I stared at her, trying to think of local national parks and whether they had swing bridges.

  ‘You really want to make people fear for their life?’ Lindsay said.

  ‘So glad you brought this up, Aurora.’ Jelena pulled out her iPhone and began punching in notes. ‘It works perfectly with phase two.’

  ‘Phase two?’ I tried to peer at her phone screen.

  ‘You didn’t see Alex’s demonstration this morning?’ Jelena asked, narrowing her eyes.

  ‘Oh yeah, of course.’

  Alex had taken things up a notch following Jelena’s announcement on Monday. This morning he’d set up an obstacle course in the schoolyard and got guys and girls racing along monkey bars, sprinting between traffic cones and lifting tyres, all competing to win a brand-new iPod. Afterwards, he’d handed out free protein bars along with permission forms that would allow students to use the gym down the road during their PE period. Alex’s motto, ‘Let’s Get Real’, was stamped on the bottom of each flyer. He’d also put up posters all along the halls, their plain black background and red-lettered motto a stark contrast to Jelena’s romantic campaign.

  ‘Not to mention stupid Matt Stevens and his obsession with making boxing a PE sport.’ Jelena was virtually pounding her fingertips against her phone. ‘He’s saying he can get a former Olympian in for the first session.’

  ‘But sport isn’t your focus,’ Lindsay reminded her. ‘The Find a Prince/Princess Program™ is.’

  ‘I can’t ignore the male vote,’ Jelena said, making a face at the backs of some rugby players who were walking by. ‘If I do, I’m losing out on half the school. I need to focus on one-upping Alex — this gym thing is building momentum. Luckily, I know what appeals to men. Besides yours truly, of course.’

  I bit back a giggle while Jelena reached for her elegant silver A3-sized campaign folder. She pulled out a flyer and handed it to me with a triumphant smile. I read it out loud.

  ‘Think you’re tough because you break a sweat at the gym? How about a real challenge? Test your true grit and stamina with
activities like mountain biking, kayaking, canyoning, abseiling, tubing and more. Jelena Cantrill is campaigning to Take It to Another Level — a series of day trips and overnight camps where you can develop gladiatorial strength and have fun with your classmates at the same time.

  ‘Wow,’ I said when I’d finished reading. Jelena had really hit the mark appeal-wise: sports plus a pass out of school. Guys and girls would be clamouring to be a part of it. ‘That totally tops Alex.’

  ‘And you can see how it’s perfect for the Find a Prince/Princess Program™ too,’ Jelena said, taking the flyer back. ‘I just can’t wait for next week. The three of us are going to have the best time.’

  ‘The three of us?’ I got a sudden image of us riding rapids on tyre tubes, Lindsay holding on to her laptop for dear life.

  ‘Jelena,’ Lindsay prompted. ‘Spill.’

  Jelena smiled to herself. ‘I can’t believe how well it’s worked out. Sometimes my capacity for genius surprises even me.’

  ‘Jelena!’ Lindsay and I cried in unison.

  ‘Please let us know what we’re in for,’ I added, trying to stay good-humoured.

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Jelena sighed at our impatience as she pulled another document from her folder. ‘I’d already pre-booked a spot for forty students for next Wednesday. I’d assumed it would be mostly the school’s athletes, but now we can get the candidates along too. Like you were saying, adrenaline will totally make the heart grow fonder. Think of the fantastic media angle — I’ll have the campaign team video Sara, Chloe and Jeffrey as they tackle the obstacle course of love.’ Jelena smiled happily. ‘It’ll be love in the wilderness.’

  ‘Wilderness?’ Lindsay looked uneasy.

  ‘Okay, Ms Cantrill, where are you taking us?’ I grabbed the document from her hands, unable to wait any longer.

  ‘It’s a day trip, right?’ Lindsay craned to look at the paper.

  ‘OMG, impatient much?’ Jelena rolled her eyes. ‘No-one would ever have dared to snatch something from Napoleon like that. We’re going on a three-day high-ropes course next Wednesday. Think walking a tightrope ten metres off the ground — totally like crossing a creaky bridge!’