Entangled (11 page)

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Authors: Cat Clarke

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #General

BOOK: Entangled
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day 22

Ethan’s here. Every time I look up, he’s there, staring into space. He came in to take away my lunch stuff and then returned a couple of minutes later, just as I sat down to write. He seemed a little jumpy. I looked up at him expectantly. ‘Hi, again.’

‘Hello, Grace.’

I waited for him to say something, but he seemed reluctant to do so. I sat with pen poised, and he stood with his back against the door.

‘Do you need anything?’ I wanted him to say something – it was getting a little bit weird.

‘No. I … would you mind if I stayed for a while? I won’t disturb you.’

I hesitated, and Ethan continued, ‘I just want to be here.’

Now this
was
interesting. I didn’t really know what to say, so I just nodded dumbly. He said a barely audible ‘Thank you’ and settled himself on the floor in the corner nearest the door.

And so here we are, sitting in a sort of companionable silence. Ethan has his back to the wall, with his legs drawn up in front of him and his arms wrapped around them. His chin is resting on his knees. He looks like a little boy – a lost little boy. His feet are bare, his toes just peeking out from the bottom of his frayed jeans. Every so often he absentmindedly rubs his right wrist with his left hand, before going back to hugging his knees to his chest.

I wonder if I should say something, or go to him.

I won’t.

I can’t.

Sal and I got our exam results. Even with all that craziness going on, Sal had managed to blitz them. I did too. Neither of us was surprised – maybe just a tiny bit relieved, but that was all.

I saw Sophie in the school hall. She was talking to Devon. I had no idea that those two knew each other, but it was hardly surprising. Not to be mean or anything, but they were both sort of geeks. And I mean that in the nicest possible way. I tried to catch Sophie’s eye, but she was too busy leaning close to Devon, looking at the piece of paper in his hand. Those two certainly had nothing to worry about when it came to exams.

Tanya was holding court in a corner with her usual cronies. She saw me and waved me over. ‘Grace! You and Sal fancy coming to mine tonight? My folks are in Barbados and the house is practically begging me to have a party in it!’ A couple of years ago I’d have jumped at the offer. But not any more. It’s weird how things change.

‘Nah, can’t. Sorry, Tan. Got plans.’
Which don’t involve shagging some stranger in your parents’ bedroom
.

‘God, G. You’re so BORING! You never come out and play these days.’ She pouted for a moment and then laughed. ‘Whatever. Congrats on your results, anyway. Hear you aced them.’ I stayed and chatted for a minute or two before heading back to Sal. The idea of going to Tanya’s party appealed to her about as much as it did to me.

When we got outside, I texted Nat to tell him my results. I kind of wanted to impress him. He
was
studying medicine, after all. The boy had probably never had so much as a B in his entire educational career. Mind you, me neither (well, I’d had two, but who’s counting?).

We went back to Sal’s for lunch. It was cool to see her parents and little brother again. Sal’s family always seems so normal. It was nice to be a part of that for a while. They didn’t question the fact that they hadn’t seen me for a couple of months, which was a relief. God knows what Sal had told them. It must have been awful for her, trying to hide what she was going through. I don’t know how she did it. It’s easy enough for me, with a mother who’s nowhere to be found more often than not. I could probably have given birth to triplets and raised them at home without my mum noticing. But with two parents who actually
care
? And a nosey little brother too. That was seriously impressive.

Sal’s parents were dead pleased with her results, and seemed almost as happy about mine, which was sweet of them. They even cracked open a bottle of champagne in our honour. I made a mental note to call home later and tell Mum how I’d done. Of course, I’d probably have to remind her that I’d taken some exams first. Sal and I went up to her room to polish off the champagne and get ready. The plan was to have a
proper
night out – our first since the Badness had all kicked off. I was looking forward to it.

When Sal was finished getting ready I eyed her up approvingly. She looked hot, no question. I felt a twinge of jealousy, but no more than that. This was Sal’s night. I was determined that she was going to forget about everything that had happened. And not just cos I was intending on getting her blind drunk. Don’t get me wrong – I was
fully
intending to get her blind drunk, but the purpose of the evening was to have a laugh. And if Sal happened to get a cheeky snog from a fit boy or two, then all the better.

‘Jesus, Sal, you look amazing!’

She looked all coy. ‘You think?’

‘Oh yes. You’re going to be in trouble tonight.’

‘What do you mean?’

I laughed. ‘Don’t look so worried! I mean, you are going to be getting A LOT of attention … particularly wearing that top …’ She had
major
cleavage going on.

Sal hurried over to the mirror behind her bedroom door and quickly examined herself from every possible angle. ‘Do you think it’s a bit much?’

‘If anything, I’d say it’s not enough!’

‘I’m going to change it.’ She started to pull the top up over her head. I jumped up from the bed and pulled it right down again.

‘Don’t you dare! You look wicked. Right, we’re going. Come on, get your coat, love, you’ve pulled.’ I winked at her, and she looked at me sceptically, before reluctantly straightening her top and taking one last look in the mirror.

‘Grace, I’m not on the pull tonight, you know.’

‘Yeah, but you never know, Prince Charming might be just around the corner, or more likely propping up the bar. Never say never …’

‘It’s too soon, OK? I’m not ready for anything. You do understand that, don’t you? Please tell me you do, otherwise we might as well stay in.’

I sighed. ‘Yeah, I understand. That’s totally cool. You just let me know when you are ready though, cos I am going to find you an amazing boy. I can’t promise he’ll be as amazing as my one, but I’ll see what I can do!’

Sal was looking too thoughtful so I dragged her out the door, hoping to leave whatever bad thoughts she was having far behind us. We said a hurried goodbye to Sal’s family. Her dad wolf-whistled at us in that classic embarrassing dad way. Sal rolled her eyes at me, and we both laughed.

On the bus into town, I felt my phone vibrate in my bag. It was a text from Nat: ‘Hey, you! Big congrats, clever girl. Want to meet up and celebrate? x’

Sal was busy staring out the window as I considered how to respond. Tonight was supposed to be a girls’ night. It was about me and Sal.
Hmm. But maybe later on we could hook up with Nat … Sal won’t mind, will she?
She
was
dying to meet him. Well, I thought she was – I suppose I’d kind of just assumed. I texted back: ‘Thanks! Am tied up at the mo, but let’s meet at Bar Code at 9ish? xxx’

I felt a brief pang of worry before I hit send, but I did it anyway. I checked my watch. It was coming up for six o’clock now. Plenty of time for me and Sal to hang out before he arrived. Seemed like the perfect opportunity for them to meet. It was a much better idea than a proper, pre-planned thing. Spontaneity rules, right?

I decided not to tell Sal that Nat was coming later. I didn’t want her to be pissed off that I was spoiling the whole ‘girls’ night’ thing. I’d probably tell her after we’d had a few drinks. Or maybe I’d let it be a surprise. I wasn’t exactly sure why I hadn’t told Nat I was out with Sal. Perhaps I didn’t want him stressing about having to impress my best friend. And maybe I was just curious to see their genuine reactions to meeting the other. And what better way to get a genuine reaction than to spring a surprise on them? I silently congratulated myself on my cunning plan. What could possibly go wrong?

I forgot Ethan was here, he’s been so quiet. But now he’s humming softly to himself. I’ve heard that song somewhere before, I’m sure of it. What the hell is it? It’s driving me crazy.

I asked Ethan. He looked up me, sort of dazed, as if I’d woken him from a dream. I had to repeat my question.

‘What song?’

‘Er … the one you’ve been humming for ages.’

‘Oh.’

‘Well? What is it? You must know.’

He shook his head slowly. ‘I didn’t even realize I was doing it. Sorry. Was it bothering you?’

‘No, not really. It just sounded really familiar.’

‘I wonder where you’ve heard it?’

‘Well, you’re the one who was humming it! It’d help if you could remember.’ I was frustrated. I don’t know why; it was just a stupid song. Why did it suddenly feel so important?

‘I’m sorry, Grace.’

I sighed. ‘Fuck it. Who cares anyway? It doesn’t matter.’

‘Are you sure?’ Ethan was suddenly looking all intense.

‘It’s only a song. How could it possibly be important?’

‘Everything’s important, even the little things. And sometimes they’re the most important things of all.’

He got up and gave me one last meaningful look (well it would have been meaningful if I’d had a clue what he’d been on about) before he left the room.

That was about twenty minutes ago, and that stupid tune is still whirling round my head.

I want it to stop.

Another dream.

I was lying on my bed in my old house, flicking through the pages of a magazine. I vaguely heard Mum yelling that dinner was on the table. I ignored her for a couple of minutes, carried on reading. Then I heard Dad pipe up, ‘Dinner time, Grace!’ I knew I had to go downstairs, but I didn’t want to. If only I could stay in my room, everything would be OK. Another minute or so went by and Dad popped his head round my bedroom door. ‘Gracie, if you’re not at the table in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to start eating your roast potatoes. And then I’m going to start on the Yorkshire puds too …’ I looked up from my magazine, smiled and said, ‘No way! I’ll race you downstairs!’ Dad said, ‘You’re on!’ and disappeared from view.

Just as I was about to jump up from the bed, I took one last glance at my magazine. Except it wasn’t a magazine any more. It was a copy of the local newspaper. There was a picture of Dad on the front page. I tried to read the headline, but it didn’t make any sense. All the words on the page were just wiggly lines. They writhed like worms. I panicked. Why couldn’t I read it? I knew how to read. Maybe if I put my glasses on? There was a pair of glasses on the bedside table, but I didn’t wear glasses, so that was weird. I picked them up. They were Dad’s reading glasses, but I put them on anyway. One of the lenses was cracked. I looked around my room, and everything was cracked and broken and ruined. I was going to be sick.

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