Love Bomb (20 page)

I’ve pretty much made myself invisible by the time the bus arrives, and when I drop down into the seat next to Kat she doesn’t even look up. She’s staring into the tiny mirror she always carries somewhere about her person. At first, I think she’s just checking out the perfectness of her blonde, blonde hair, but then she grabs my arm and pulls me closer, hissing, ‘Look behind us!’

I peer back through the bus, ‘What?’

‘It’s
him
: Ollie “The Hug” Matthews. Oh, God. Don’t look! Look! No. Don’t look. OK. Look now. Soooo hot!’ I sneak a sideways glance at her. Just as I suspected, her mouth is half open and her eyes are all
big and puppy-like. She’s doing her ‘Sexy Lady Face’. She looks like Emma when she’s doing ‘a big one’ on the potty.

‘Don’t look at me,’ she says. ‘Look at
him.
’

And so I look. For once, I can see what she’s getting at. Ollie Matthews has got these kind, brown eyes, sort of tousled hair and shoulders that look a bit like
man
shoulders and his hands are …

‘Bean, are you listening?’ Kat snaps her mirror shut. ‘I think I need to be more realistic and forget about Year Elevens and focus on Year Tens. Also, well, maybe he’s
the one
? There was “The Hug”, after all.’

‘What? He said
that
was an accident.’

Kat snorts, ‘It didn’t
feel
like an “accident”!’

‘He thought you were his sister. You’ve got the same coat … that one with the birds on it.’

‘He. Is. So. So. Hot. Don’t you think?’ says Kat, ignoring my little slice of REALITY.

The Hug is listening to his iPod and looking out of the window in a, you know,
hot
type of way, with his eyes, which are open (
sexily
), looking at trees …
hot
trees covered in
sexy
green leaves. ‘Yeah, Kat,’ I say. ‘Ollie seems –’

‘Say it!’ Kat is gleeful. ‘Go on, say it. Say Ollie Matthews is HOT.’ I shut my mouth. ‘Say it say it say it!’

‘OK. I can see, from your point of view, that he could be described as … hot.’

‘Yes! He
totally
is.’ She grabs my arm. ‘Now tell me
everything
you know!’

I have a great memory. ‘Year Ten.’

‘I know that.’

‘Was in
Bugsy Malone
last year.’

‘Who was he?’

‘Bugsy.’

‘That’s good, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘More,’ she demands hungrily.

‘Rugby team.’

‘Mmmmm.’

‘Captain of the rugby team.’

‘MMMMM.’

‘Sang that song at Celebration Evening with his band.’

‘What song?’

‘
Do ya think I’m sexy?
’ I sing under my breath.

‘Bean. Don’t.’

‘OK. Sorry.’

‘More?’

I look back at The Hug. ‘He rolls his sleeves up, you know, all the time, and his arms are …’ I trail off. I refuse to use
that
word again.

Also by
JENNY McLACHLAN

FLIRTY DANCING

About the author

Before Jenny started writing books about the Ladybirds, she was an English teacher at a large secondary school. Although she loved teaching funny teenagers (and stealing the things they said and putting them in her books), she now gets to write about them full-time. When Jenny isn’t thinking about stories, writing stories or eating cake, she enjoys jiving and running around the South Downs. Jenny lives by the seaside with her husband and two small but fierce girls.

Bloomsbury Publishing, London, New Delhi, New York and Sydney

First published in Great Britain in March 2015 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

50 Bedford Square, London WC1B 3DP

www.bloomsbury.com

Bloomsbury is a registered trademark of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

Copyright © Jenny McLachlan 2015

The moral right of the author has been asserted

All rights reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher

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

ISBN 978 1 4088 5609 3

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