Cathy Hopkins - [Mates, Dates 05] (5 page)

‘Never mind,’ he said.
‘Thanks.’ Then he shuffled off.

I couldn’t help
feeling a tiny bit jealous. I do love Nesta - she’s a great mate - but it’s
hard sometimes, being the last one that anyone notices. I went back to join the
girls, who looked at me expectantly.

‘Wanted to know if you
were taken or not, Nesta,’ I said.

Nesta looked over at
the boy. ‘Really?’

Izzie smacked her arm.
‘We’re here for Lucy, not you. Besides, you have Simon.’

‘I know,’ she said.
‘But no harm seeing what I’m missing.’

‘Let’s try somewhere
else,’ I said. ‘Any ideas, anyone?’

‘How about Hampstead?’
said Izzie. ‘There’s always loads of boys there.’

‘Lead the way,’ said
Nesta, heading off towards the bus stop.

‘But please, let’s
just hang out, look in the shops and forget about the Mission,’ I said. ‘I
don’t think it’s going to work. It doesn’t feel right. I mean, so there might
be a boy who looks OK, but how am I going to approach him? Get a card with “Hi,
I’m Lucy and I’m available” on it? Besides, I’m always reading that the right
boy always comes along when you’ve given up.’

‘No,’ said Nesta. ‘You
have to make things happen.’

Izzie shrugged. ‘No,
Lucy may be right, Nesta. You can’t force destiny.’

‘Choice not chance
determines destiny,’ said Nesta. ‘You can’t leave everything to fate or the
stars.’

Oh, here we go again
with the conflicting advice, I thought. It’s amazing Nesta and Izzie get on at
all. They both think so differently about things. If Nesta said ‘hold on’,
Izzie would say ‘let go’. They never agree on anything. Chalk and cheese.
Still, it seems to work on some strange level. Opposites attract and all that.

‘What do you think,
TJ?’ I asked.

‘No harm in looking,’
she said. ‘It’s like window shopping. Good to see what’s on offer, but it
doesn’t mean that you have to buy.’

I liked that
perspective. It took the pressure off.

We caught the bus down
to Hampstead where everyone was sitting, sipping cappuccinos and enjoying the
sunshine outside the cafes that line the streets. After trawling the pavement
for a while, looking for an empty table, we finally ended up outside the Coffee
Cup. All the tables were full except for one that was occupied by a boy sitting
on his own and reading. He looked nice and there were three empty chairs next
to him.

‘Anyone sitting here?’
asked Nesta, pointing at the chairs.

The boy smiled and
said, ‘Nope, only me. And Jesus.’ He then pointed at the book he was reading,
which turned out to be the Bible. ‘Please, sit down. I’d like to tell you how
you can be saved.’

Izzie was all for it,
as there’s nothing she likes more than a discussion about religion and why
we’re here and stuff. But luckily Nesta had a better idea.

‘I really fancy ice
cream instead of coffee,’ she said, making a beeline for the ice cream shop
next door,

‘Good idea,’ I said
following her. ‘When the going gets tough, the tough need chocolate chip
fudge.’

C h a p t e r
 
5

Wish
List

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I decided I needed to
rethink the plan. Mission Matchmake had left me feeling more aware than ever
that I was single. Nesta and Izzie, however, weren’t ready to give up. Nesta
wanted me to go out boy hunting again in Kensington on Tuesday with her and Simon,
but I said I was busy helping Dad out at the shop. I didn’t want to hang around
with her and Simon, like a spare part. And I didn’t want Simon thinking I was
desperate. Because I’m really
really
not. Of course, Izzie heard about
my refusal to go out and came over to see me on Wednesday.

‘I don’t want to pick
up any old boy. I want it to be special, like it was with Tony.’

‘Then what you need to
do,’ said Izzie, ‘is to send a message out into the universe about what you
want, then you’ll attract it to you. You should do a wish list for a boy, then
wrap it in tissue, put it in a secret box and hide it in your bedroom.’

‘If it’s going to go
out into the universe, wouldn’t a billboard up at Swiss Cottage work better
than hiding a piece of paper in my bedroom?’ I teased.

She gave me ‘the
look’. The one our form teacher, Miss Watkins, gives when someone hasn’t done
their homework.

‘Trust me,’ she said.
She was always coming up with ways to make things happen or control your
destiny and stuff. She’s got one of those spell books at home, and when Tony
was coming down with a case of the wandering hands last year, she told me to
put a photo of him in the freezer to cool him down. I laughed at the time, but
maybe it worked after all. He’d certainly gone cold on me now.

I stretched out on my
bed while she took her favourite place on the beanbag on the floor. ‘OK, mystic
Iz. So what’s a wish list?’ I asked.

‘You have to write
down all the things that you want in a boy on one side of the paper, then all
things that you have to offer on the other side.’ She got up and found a pen
and piece of paper from my desk and handed it to me. ‘Start with how you want
him to look, then go on to personality - like funny, generous, that sort of
thing. Then emotionally and spiritually how you’d like him to be. The more
detail, the better. Leave nothing out.‘

Why not? I thought. I
had nothing else to do and it was better than being made to go out and trawl
North London like a saddo.

‘OK,’ I said, and
began to write.

My perfect boy:

Medium height, not too tall. Fit-looking. Nice
face.

‘Blond or dark?’ asked
Izzie, coming to sit on the bed next to me and looking at what I was writing.

‘Urn, don’t mind
really, as long as he’s quite nice-looking.’

‘Oh, go for it,’ said
Izzie. ‘Write drop dead gorgeous. Cute. Don’t settle for just anyone.’

Gorgeous-looking, cute, long eyelashes. With
nice hands and nails. Clean.

Well-dressed, with a sense of style. Interested
in fashion.

‘Now you’re getting
it,’ said Izzie. ‘Now his personality.’ I continued writing.

Reliable,
i.e., will phone me when he says he will.

‘Excellent,’ said Iz.
‘But what else? Just reliable could be a bit boring.’

Good fun to be with. Sense of humour. Really
likes me.

Honest. Doesn’t play mind games. Not afraid to
show his feelings about me. Intelligent. Ambitious.

 
Kind. Sensitive. Spontaneous. Likes animals.

‘Good,’ said Izzie.
‘Now do you.’

I turned over the
paper. ‘Um, don’t know what to put,’ I said.

‘Blonde, small, slim,’
dictated Izzie. ‘Am fab at fashion. Have my own sense of style. Am honest. Have
a great sense of humour. Am generous. Sensitive. Spontaneous. Am a great friend
to my mates. Am punctual. Sweet.’

‘Sweet? Eeeww.
Boring.’

‘No, it’s not. And you
are
sweet,’ said
Izzie
. ‘When you want to be.’

‘How about: Have
Wonderbra, will travel?’ I added.

Izzie laughed. ‘Have
inflatable bra, will travel.’

Nesta and Izzie bought
me an inflatable bra ages ago when I was fed up about being so flat-chested.
It’s on the notice board in my bedroom, pinned under a photo of me taken when I
was twelve.

‘Maybe I should put on
his side that he likes girls who have boobs like peanuts,’ I said.

‘Put: Likes petite,’
said Izzie. ‘Sounds better.’

I added that to his
side of the paper, then as Izzie instructed, I wrapped the paper in tissue and
put it in my Chinese box in the drawer in the bedside cabinet.

‘Excellent,’ said
Izzie. ‘Now let’s see when he turns up. It may even be on Friday. It’s Ben’s
birthday and his parents are letting him have a party at his house. He said to
invite you and Nesta and TJ. You will come, won’t you?’

‘Are Simon and Steve
going?’ I asked.

‘And Lai,’ Izzie said.
‘But there’ll be loads of other boys there. It’d be amazing if perfect boy
turned up.’

I laughed. She really
believed in her hocus-pocus.

‘Course, I’ll come,’ I
said. ‘It might be fun.’ I had to admit that a part of me was secretly hoping
that Izzie’s wish list would work. I had nothing to lose by going to find out.

All the girls looked
stunning at the party. Izzie was wearing a white peasant top, a denim ruffle
skirt and cowboy boots, Nesta was in a blue strappy slip dress and TJ was in
jeans, but she was wearing a fab turquoise halter-top.

I wore an outfit I’d
made a few weeks before. It was a tight red corset basque that laced down the
back and a black tafFeta skirt. And I wore a bright red lipstick to go with the
corset. I felt really good. Really in the mood for flirting.

‘You look amazing,’
said Izzie to me. ‘Sexy.’

‘Thought I’d better
make an effort in case dreamboy’s here,’ I laughed.

‘You look like a
character out
of Moulin Rouge
,’ said TJ. ‘Really suits you.’

‘Thanks,’ I said,
doing a quick scan of the room. On first glance, dreamboy was nowhere to be
seen. There were loads of boys there, but not one who came close to fitting the
bill. There was a thin, dark-haired boy in the corner and I could see he was
eyeing me up, but I turned away. Definitely not my type, though it was nice to
be noticed.

As the party got
going, it soon became clear who was in a couple and who was single. In the
front room, someone changed the music to a CD of love ballads and some of the
couples got up to drape themselves round each other and smooch-dance. I decided
to go and investigate the rest of the house and practise my flirting, but every
room I went into seemed to be full of couples snogging. The front room, the
hall, the little conservatory at the back of the house, everywhere. The
singletons present mooched about from room to room trying to look as though
they were having a great time but I could tell that some of them felt like I
did. Like we had neon signs over our head saying ‘SINGLE’. The only person
there who seemed to be enjoying being single was Lai. So far, I’d seen him snog
two different girls, one in the hall and one on the landing.

‘It’s quality not
quantity,’ I told him when he came up for air between girls. ‘Do those two know
about each other?’

He grinned.‘Course
not.’

‘And don’t you ever
think about their feelings?’

‘Oh, get off my case,
Miss Prissy Knickers,’ he said. ‘Chill out. You take it all way too seriously.
You should be more like me. Enjoy. We’re young, we’re free, we’re single.’

‘I don’t want to be
like you. I do actually want to feel something for the people I snog,’ I said.

‘Why? You’re missing
out, I tell you,’ he said, as he spotted a small dark girl who looked a bit
lonely. ‘Anyway, got to go. So many girls, so little time.’

‘Seen anyone you
like?’ asked TJ when I went into the kitchen to get a drink.

I shook my head.

‘There’s a few more
boys upstairs. Why don’t you go and have a look?’ she suggested.

I traipsed up the
stairs behind her. A crowd of lads were in Ben’s bedroom playing a game on his
computer. I glanced over at them then shook my head.

‘No thanks,’ I said,
and turned to go back downstairs. ‘They all look like they’re up past their
bedtime. Way too young.’

It was then that I saw
him. He was coming in the front door and he was drop dead
gorgeous
. A
tingle went through me. Dreamboy most definitely, I thought.

It was Tony.

I drew back and sat on
the top stair so that he couldn’t see me, then watched him through the
banisters. There was someone with him. A willowy girl with long blonde hair.
She was very very pretty. He took her hand and led her into the kitchen. No
wonder he wanted to be free for the holidays, I thought. Free to go out with
her.

Nesta came racing up
the stairs a moment later. ‘Ohmigod,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, Lucy. I didn’t know
he was coming. Do you want me to ask him to leave?’

‘No. No. Course not.
He’d think I was pining after him,’ I said. Til keep out of his way. It’ll be
fine. How long has he been seeing her?‘

Nesta shrugged. ‘New
one to me,’ she said.

‘Well you can’t stay
up here all night hiding,’ said TJ. ‘Look he’s gone into the kitchen. Come down
and go in the front room and Nesta, you go and distract Tony.’

I followed them down,
but suddenly I wasn’t in the party mood anymore. What was the point of
practising my flirting on boys I definitely had no interest in? I could hear
Tony talking in the kitchen and laughing. Oh hell. What was I going to do?