Love at Second Sight

Also by Cathy Hopkins

Million Dollar Mates

Paparazzi Princess

Catwalk Queen

Golden Girl

Super Star

Mates, Dates

Truth, Dare, Kiss or Promise

Cinnamon Girl

Zodiac Girls

First published in Great Britain in 2012 by Simon and Schuster UK Ltd
A CBS COMPANY

Copyright © 2012 Cathy Hopkins

This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.
No reproduction without permission.
All rights reserved.

The right of Cathy Hopkins to be identified as the author of this work has been
asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Design and
Patents Act, 1988.

Simon & Schuster UK Ltd
1st Floor
222 Gray’s Inn Road
London WC1X 8HB

Simon & Schuster Australia, Sydney

Simon & Schuster India, New Delhi

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

PB ISBN: 978-0-85707-550-5
eBook ISBN: 978-0-85707-551-2

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Typeset by Hewer Text UK Ltd, Edinburgh
Printed and bound in Great Britain by
CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY

www.simonandschuster.co.uk
www.simonandschuster.com.au
www.cathyhopkins.com

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Twenty-one

It all started on May bank holiday weekend.

It was Friday afternoon and I trooped out of school with my best mates, Effy and Tash. Despite the grey skies and threatening rain, they were in a sunny mood, unlike me.

‘Three whole days off to hang out with Dave,’ said Tash.

‘Three whole days to hang out with Mark,’ said Effy.

Three whole days for me to be Miss Tag Along
, I thought as they talked over plans on the way to the bus stop. It was the first bank holiday of the month and once again, I’d be the
odd one out.
All by myself
, as Bridget Jones sings in the movie.

‘Oh, and to hang out with you too, Jo,’ Effy added. ‘We wouldn’t leave you out.’

I tried to look enthusiastic. I knew I’d be included in any plans. They’re good friends and we all know the rules when dating boys: mates come first. Even so, it isn’t a ton of
fun going to the movies, all five of us, with me wedged in between two couples, not knowing where to look when they snog each other’s faces off. Then going for pizza and watching them feed
pepperoni to each other across the table while I sip my Diet Coke and try not to look like a sad loser. Or evenings spent at each other’s houses listening to music, while Mark and Effy or
Dave and Tash send slow smiles between them across the room as if to say, ‘Don’t we have something special here?’ while I, feeling left out, wonder what I’m doing to put
boys off and whether there’s something wrong with me because my relationships don’t last.

So, no. Another weekend of being reminded that I’m single is not my ideal, that’s for sure. Not that I haven’t had boyfriends. I have. I even made a list of them in my diary
one night when I was home alone to remind myself that I’m not a total reject.

Jamie

He was back in Year Eleven. I liked him a lot until a small problem came up. He was also dating Cheryl Wilson from Year Ten.

Also in Year Eleven. He was good company but as time went on, I realised that I paid for everything. Basically he was a cheapskate. I don’t get that much pocket money and
I thought it would be nice if he bought the cinema tickets once in a while, because it wasn’t as if he didn’t have any money, he just chose to spend it on CDs or computer games.

He was at the beginning of the Lower Sixth. He could be interesting and funny but was a bit of a dopehead. We didn’t last long because I got bored of watching his eyes
glaze over and listening to the rubbish he spouted when he was stoned.

I should really cross him off. He belongs more on a wish list than as part of my love life so far. I know he’s a total waste of time because loads of people fancy him and
I doubt he even knows that I exist. He’s the lead singer in a band called Minted. They’re a group from the Sixth Form at St John’s School for Boys who have become really popular
after a promoter turned up at one of their gigs last summer. Now their music is being played on the radio and I even saw them in a teen magazine last month. Finn is cute as hell, with girls lining
up for him. I met him when Effy and I signed up to be part of a team putting together a magazine called
Chillaxin
. There are six schools involved, all from around the north London region.
Finn’s the editor. Not that I knew that at the time. I almost passed out when Effy and I turned up for the first meeting and saw him there. So far, I don’t think he’s even
registered me.

Owen is the exception. He’s Effy’s older brother and is away at Nottingham university at the moment. We were a couple for a while, for a few months last summer in fact, but he always
felt more like my brother than my boyfriend. He’s a nice guy, very grown up for a nineteen year old and protective. ‘You’re perfect for each other,’ everyone said when we
were dating. ‘So many shared interests.
So
alike.’ And they were right. We could talk for hours about books and music, the world and how we were going to change it. We
did
have a lot in common, but someone who’s the same as me isn’t really what I want. Kissing him was like eating plain yoghurt. Good for you but bland. And he used to have a shiny spot on
the end of his nose which, though I know it was shallow of me, I couldn’t help but focus on whenever he puckered up and moved in. I just thought, ew, pass me the Clearasil. Not exactly how I
imagined true love’s kiss to be.

OK, so maybe a relationship isn’t going to be like a Disney movie, with a heart formation of bluebirds tweeting away in the background, but surely it wasn’t too much to ask for
someone colourful and exciting? And scorching hot. I wanted someone who’d burst into my life like a flame and challenge me. Make me think. turn my insides to liquid honey and make my toes
curl. Though that sounds like a case of E. coli. What I mean is, I want to
feel
something. A pull. A longing. Desire. I want Heathcliff from
Wuthering Heights
, wild and passionate. Or
maybe not. . . He was a nutter with mad hair and obsessed with Cathy’s ghost. Someone like him would be way too high maintenance as a boyfriend. Who else sounds right. . . ? Edward from
Twilight
– the most dangerous and charismatic boy in the school? OK, maybe not him, either. Someone who drinks blood for kicks is probably not the most suitable guy and, anyway,
vampires are so last decade. I can’t kid myself. I know exactly who I want and his name is Finn O’Brady.

No.
No.
I will not waste time on someone who has a line of girls after him. What would I be? Number sixteen? Seventeen? One hundred? Oh, I don’t know. No, I
do
know. I want
to meet my soulmate. I want to meet a boy who makes me feel alive like I’ve never felt before and who feels the same way about me – but I’m not convinced that’s going to
happen where I live in north London. Most of the local boys (apart from Finn) wear those falling-down jeans that show their bum cracks and Calvin Kleins.
So
not sexy, at least not in my
book.

‘I think I might stay in and catch up with some study,’ I said as the girls discussed going to a movie.

‘No way,’ said Effy. ‘Why don’t you want to come with us?’

I shrugged.

‘Because you’re a singleton?’

‘Ish. Look, I’m cool with it. You guys go. Have a good time.’

‘You don’t need to be single, Jo. You could have boyfriends,’ said Tash. ‘
Loads
of boys fancy you.’ She pulled her red beret out of her rucksack, put it on
and tucked her hair up into it. Her real name’s Anastasia, but we call her Tash. She has shoulder-length, Titianred hair that goes frizzy in the damp weather. ‘Bane of my life,’
she always says. She carries her beret everywhere in case of showers, which is a shame because I think her hair suits her curly. No-one’s ever happy, though. Effy has long, silky blonde hair
and she curses about it being so fine. My hair’s dark, dead straight and halfway down my back, and I’d love to have Tash’s waves, whereas she’s jealous of me and Effy being
able to just ‘wash and go’ without battling with the GHDs.

‘Yeah. You’re way too picky when it comes to boys,’ agreed Effy.

‘I just don’t want to compromise, that’s all.’

‘I don’t think you should, either,’ said Tash. ‘I think you should wait for The One.’

‘Oh, get real. I mean, we all want to meet The One,’ said Effy, ‘but until you do, you should get some experience. Practise your snogging!’

And so it went on as we waited for the bus. Same old Friday conversation. Same ole, same ole. It’s not that Effy and Tash aren’t romantic. They are. Way more so than me, in fact. Out
of the three of us, I’m the one with my feet most firmly on the ground. I’m planning on studying journalism (the main reason I signed up for
Chillaxin
), which means thinking
rationally, researching ideas, getting facts. Tash and Effy on the other hand are more keen on art and literature, so are encouraged to live in the realm of imagination and dreams. I’m right
brain, they’re left. Effy is an Aries and, even though I’m not as into astrology as she is, I can see that she’s typical of the sign and rushes into things at full speed with
great enthusiasm. Tash is a Pisces, the sensitive dreamer, and I’m Taurus. Stubborn, says Effy. I prefer to focus on the other qualities, like loyal, practical and sensual.