A Definitive Guide to Boys (a novel)

RULE 2: THE PINK-FLOWERED INCIDENT

Here lies Bella Rose Richardson's dignity

In her sixteen years of existence, Bella Rose had never felt so humiliated. As she came to a stop inside the building, the incident replayed in her mind over and over like an old black-and-white movie. She covered her face in embarrassment and wished the ground would swallow her whole.

It was pink, it was flowery, it was embarrassing, humiliating, excruciating, and agonizing, and—"You're late, B," Nicole greeted her with a scornful look. Bella stared blankly at her, nodded, and continued walking toward an empty seat.

"Where were you?" Nicole began. "You said we were going to the café before class started." They sat at the front of the room near the window on the third floor for their second class, English."Right... Café... Before..." Bella Rose repeated as if in a trance.

"Umm... hello?" Nicole waved her hand in front of Bella, trying to snap her back to reality.

"What?"

Nicole let out a deep breath and sat in the seat next to her. "First day, café, before school starts? Ring any bells?"

Bella had promised, but she had somehow forgotten after everything that had happened. "Oh yeah, right... Café. We can go after class if you want?"

Nicole stared at her, clearly unimpressed. "Yeah, guess so. Anyway, there's this party at Paulo's house on Friday, and I was thinking—"

Bella tuned her out as she talked about what to wear and who would be there. She looked around the room as students shuffled in, filling it up. Okay, good. That p*****t isn't here.

"So, what do you think?" Nicole asked enthusiastically.

"I... think... it's great," Bella replied, unsure of the question.

"Umm... where's Stacy anyway?" Bella asked, changing the subject.

Nicole took out her compact powder, checked her reflection, swabbed a fresh coat of lip gloss, and said, "Cafeteria."

"Oh, okay."

Bella had to bite her lip to fight the urge to tell Nicole what had happened earlier because the thing about Nicole Scheuer was... she wasn't much of a listener.

What she was, though, was the Junior Prom Queen. Everything about her screamed beauty queen. With her snow-white skin, red plump lips, gorgeous blonde locks paired with a cheerleader's body, she was the living embodiment of a perfect girl.

"Do you think I need to get my nails done for the party? I mean, that new hot student is going to be there," Nicole asked while checking her nails right in front of her face.

"Your nails are already perfect as they are."

Nicole flashed her perfectly white teeth. "Aww... you are such a good friend."

"Hey B, you're up early?" Stacy said sarcastically as she entered the room, food in hand. It was amazing how such a lean, slim figure like hers stayed that way when she ate a ton. She sat beside Bella's table and started munching.

"I got up late, but I promise I'll make it up to you guys," Bella replied.

Nicole, Stacy, and Bella had become friends in their sophomore year when Bella started to reinvent herself. They were the first friends she ever had who helped her tremendously with understanding relationships.

"Unbelievable you're late, Bella Rose!" chirped the girl in front. Slinking into English class, Bella Rose eyed the twenty students: some settled, some restless. Sinking into a far corner, she ignored her friend's chatter about first-day tardiness jinxing the year.

You can say that again.

She wasn't really focusing on what her long-time friend was ranting about because of the incident at the school fence. I definitely regret investing my feelings for him.

"Are you even listening?" the girl snapped her fingers at her. "Earth to Bella, hello?"

Bella Rose blinked and finally looked at Leslie's annoyed face. Leslie was one of her closest friends in school. They'd known each other since sixth grade, which made them inseparable and practically sisters, except they looked nothing alike.

Leslie had more of a round S-line body with almond-shaped eyes and short, curly brown hair, while Bella was more pixie-like with small features and jet-black hair that gently waved to the middle of her back.

"I am. It's just... I... I had a terrible, bad, nightmarish morning."

"Why, what happened?" Leslie replied with a raised eyebrow. "Please, please, please tell me this has nothing to do with your guy handbook again?" she added with a sour face.

Embarrassed, Bella buried her head. Leslie prattled on about her "handy guy guidebook" – a relic of a bygone romance. Bella envisioned her own, a self-made masterpiece of cut-out articles promising boy-charming brilliance.

Six years after her first, disastrous love letter (and viral video of the subsequent faint), Bella was "cured." No more trembling confessions, her guidebook assured success.

With delight and belief that the guidebook would help her find her true love, she kept it well-hidden inside her bag at all times and used it whenever she needed to. Among other things, it taught her what her hairstyle should be. Boys practically loved long-haired girls, hence why she kept her hair that way.

But her meticulously crafted guidebook had one glaring omission: how to handle a totally-majorly-earth-shattering incident. And yes, she triple-checked; there was nothing in her book that could help her with that kind of situation.

"I told you it doesn't work with every guy you just randomly meet," Leslie added.Bella let out a deep sigh and thought about starting a page on "What to do in a totally-majorly-earth-shattering situation" for her guidebook.

"You okay?" Leslie turned serious. It amazed her how easily Leslie could read her emotions. Bella Rose pouted and made Leslie promise not to laugh.

Leslie had been by her side through her ups and downs, kind enough to go with the flow when it came to Bella's wild ideas about how true love works and getting advice from old cut-out pieces of a magazine instead of listening to her. So, Bella trusted Leslie enough to tell her what had happened with the guy and her skirt.

"Hahaha... you... he... hahaha," Leslie burst out in a deep, loud, hearty laughter that filled the classroom. Everybody started to look their way in confusion, wondering what was going on, but Leslie didn't mind. She was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes.

Bella Rose raised her eyebrows at Leslie with her lips pressed tightly together.

"I'm sorry. Sorry... I really am," Leslie replied, trying to hold her laughter. "Okay... okay... okay... I'm good. I'm sorry," then she burst out laughing again. Bella rolled her eyes at her.

"You actually... what did he do... did... after you... haha... after you... pfft... slapped him," she said while trying to control her laughter.

"UGH. I don't know. I don't want to find out." Bella mumbled. "It was embarrassing.""Do I even know this guy?" Leslie chuckled.

"No, yes?" Bella thought for a moment. "I don't think so. I-I don't even know if I know him."

Scarred by her public prom-night confession to her 37th "true love" last year, Bella cautiously navigated feelings for Caleb. Two months of friendship convinced her this time was different, so she poured her heart into a song performance - a public confession in disguise. But, as fate would have it, Caleb vanished after the dance, leaving Bella with just a memory (and a bruised ego).

"Oh my god. What if he totally knew who I was?" Struck with horror, she started begging Leslie to help her find the guy and think of a good way to apologize to ensure he wouldn't tell anyone about the incident.

"Please... please... please... I've already lived through the humiliation of being tagged as the girl-who-got-dumped last year. I don't need another title like the one who has undies in pink."

"You've had thousands of crushes every month and never had any problems confessing to each one of them consistently. You've practically confessed to half the guys in school," Leslie said matter-of-factly. "Don't you even at least recognize who it was?"

"I don't have thousands of crushes," Bella retorted. "And I didn't confess to all of them."

"Uh-huh..."

"You probably won't understand, since you haven't been in love."

"I did too!" Leslie gasped. "For your information, I had a guy I really liked before. But it didn't end well; he turned out to be a frog."

"That's not true," Bella countered. "He liked you, but you didn't like him back because you said he smelled like an old sock that hadn't been washed for weeks."

"Okay, enough about me," Leslie said, raising her hands in defeat. "What do you know about love anyway?"

"I know tons!" Bella said, feeling good about herself.

"Besides what's written in your handbook?" Leslie added, crossing her arms.

Love is when you feel full even if you haven't eaten in days, Bella remembered.

"Yep! I know tons!" Bella replied. She started rummaging through her bag, looking for the guidebook. "And for your information, this book knows a lot more about love than you and me.""Yeah, right," Leslie said, rolling her eyes. "Like the time you used it to check whether your true love of the month was the one..."

"Exactly!" Bella agreed.

Leslie let out a deep sigh. "Uh-huh."

Bella was still ransacking her bag, unbothered by Leslie's response. "Now, now, where did I put it?"

She swore she remembered putting it inside her bag last night after taking notes from one of her Korean drama favorites, but she had already pulled out all of her stuff and turned her bag inside and out. Still, no handbook. Oh no.

"It's not in here..." she muttered. "IT'S NOT IN HERE!"

Eek!

There was a bit of commotion outside the classroom. One of their classmates, Melissa, known as the President of Affairs (aka gossip), ran full speed into the room and brought out the biggest news of the day. "There's a new hot transfer in 401!" she shouted with delight.

"Here's the dish," Melissa continued as she walked inside the room with such confidence.

"He's a fourth-year transfer from Reale Academy—where the hot and rich guys are—5' 10''—perfect—super friendly—according to the welcoming committee—into sports—so hot—and totally A-V-A-I-L-A-B-L-E." Another round of shrieks with delight, only this time all the other girls joined in, including Bella.

All the girls started to gossip and daydream about the new hot transfer, while the other guys in the room hissed and grumbled. Leslie knocked some sense into Bella. "Hello? You in there?""Oh my god! Did you just hear that? A new transfer? I bet he's a total hottie since he's from R.A. We should totally check him out." Bella rambled.

"I can totally use him on how to befriend a hot transfer student without being too obvious." Her eyes glimmered with excitement. Leslie cringed.

"You should really have yourself checked, Bella," Leslie replied. "And... I guess it's better not to find your handbook?" she added.

"OH. MY. GOD!" Bella exclaimed, shooting up in her seat. "We need to find it!"

As soon as she said it, a guy entered the classroom, and the whole class suddenly turned quiet. Everyone stared at the student standing outside the door in total shock.

The student looked displeased and almost ready to rip anyone's face off if they were within two feet of him. He had a bandage on his left hand and one on his shoulder, making him look like he was ready to beat up anybody who locked eyes with him. But the most chilling thing that made him scarier was his face. It was red as a tomato with a vague handprint, as if he had been slapped hard recently.

"Is there a Bella Rose here?" he said in a menacing tone, holding up a thick, handmade book.

Oh god, no.