Entangled (24 page)

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Authors: Cat Clarke

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #General

BOOK: Entangled
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And so there we were: me and my boyfriend’s little brother. Hanging out. Sitting in the library, chatting. Well, semi-whispering actually. The initial awkward weirdness disappeared sooner than I would have expected. Slowly but surely Devon came out of his shell of shyness. He had a lot to say, which shouldn’t have surprised me, but did. He agreed with me about Jane Austen, and hated both Brontës too. Our conversation was pretty much confined to books at first, but little by little we moved onto other subjects.

It turned out we felt the same about a lot of things. We talked about music and compared the worst songs on our iPods. He told me about a song he thought I’d like and we listened to it, our heads huddled together, one headphone each. Being so close, I couldn’t help but notice that he smelled really, really good. The song was beautiful.

My hangover was forgotten. And if I wasn’t mistaken, a slight flirtatiousness had crept into my voice, without me even noticing. He had a cute smile – a little bit crooked. I liked it.

The bell went, and I decided to skip history. Devon looked at his watch briefly but carried on talking. I wondered if he was missing a lesson too. He’d probably never missed one in his life.

We talked all afternoon and it felt like the most normal thing in the world. It had gone four o’clock by the time the librarian kicked us out. I packed my neglected copy of
Emma
into my bag. ‘Well, I suppose I’d better get going. I said I’d meet Sal in town after school.’ This was the first mention of either Sal or Nat. And the mere mention of her name seemed to break whatever spell we were under.

‘Right, yeah, I’d better get home … things to do, you know … It was fun though – talking to you, I mean. You’re different …’ Every ounce of awkwardness was back – and then some.

I nodded, not altogether sure what to say to that. ‘Yeah, well, thanks for this afternoon. You saved me from Death by Boredom.’

‘Any time.’ Devon smiled, but it was a slight, tight sort of smile. He looked me in the eyes for the longest time. I couldn’t look away; I didn’t want to look away. He was the first to break eye contact. He looked down and fiddled with the straps on his bag. If I hadn’t seen his lips move, I’d have hardly believed what I heard next.

‘What do you see in him?’

I don’t know what to think about Ethan.

He’s fading.

I’m starting to give up hope.

Hope. I’m not even sure what I’m hoping for any more.

What do you see in him?
The words were tinged with bitterness.

‘What did you say?’ I’d heard all too clearly, but I really didn’t know how else to respond.

Devon looked at me, his expression unreadable. ‘You heard me.’

‘Yeah, I heard you. But what kind of question is
that
?’

‘I’m curious.’

‘Curious?’

He nodded, a little less sure of himself now. ‘Yeah … I just wanted to know … Never mind. Forget I said anything.’ He turned his attention to the noticeboard we were standing next to and started picking at one of the drawing pins with his fingernail. Back to Devon, Master of Awkwardness. But I hadn’t imagined the bitterness in his voice, had I?

‘Devon, I don’t know what to tell you …’

‘You don’t have to tell me anything. Just forget it. Please.’ He still wouldn’t look at me.

‘I don’t mind, honestly.’ I paused, not knowing what he wanted from me. ‘Nat’s not like anyone else I’ve been with.’
Cringe. I sound like a right slag
. ‘He makes me feel good about myself. And I trust him.’

Devon looked up. ‘Do you?’ He asked the question ever so quietly.

I nodded.

‘You … love him?’ His eyes burned into mine. There was something beyond weird happening between us, and whatever it was made me hesitate before answering his question.

‘Yes.’

He closed his eyes for just a second, but it was long enough for me to notice his long eyelashes, just like Nat’s. ‘He doesn’t deserve you.’ The words were barely more than a whisper.

And then he turned and bolted away down the corridor before I was able to process what he’d said.

What the fuck? What the hell is he on about? Why would he say that to me?
I thought it was Sal he had a crush on, not me. I couldn’t wait to see what she made of it all. I briefly wondered if Devon was just jealous that Nat had a girlfriend and he didn’t. And then I felt mean for thinking that.

I hopped on a bus into town and texted Sal to say I was on my way. My phone buzzed straight away, and I was sure it was going to be Sal, making some sarky comment about me being the late one this time. But it was from a number I didn’t recognize:

‘Sorry about that. Pls don’t tell anyone – I was out of order. Sorry. D’

I had no idea how he’d got my number. Maybe he’d nabbed it off Nat’s phone? I wondered whether I should text him back, but since I couldn’t think of anything to say I decided against it.

I mulled things over for the rest of the bus journey. The idea that Nat didn’t deserve me was absurd.
I
was the one who didn’t deserve
him
. Any idiot could see that. Well, any idiot who knew the truth, anyway. Clearly Devon had no idea what I was like. I was sort of pleased.

I’d really enjoyed hanging out with him that afternoon – even more than I was willing to admit to myself. But why did he have to go all weird and spoil things? It was annoying.

I was so immersed in my mulling that I very nearly missed my stop. I jumped out of my seat and semi-sprinted down the aisle, accidentally clouting some guy round the back of the head with my bag. He swore at me just as I was about to say sorry, so I kept my apology to myself. Served him right anyway – he had an unusually large head.

I ran from the bus stop to the shop where I was meeting Sal. We always met in the same place when we were in town. It wasn’t as if there was much choice – there were only about three half-decent shops. Sal wasn’t waiting outside, so I headed inside. I was twenty minutes late, but that was pretty standard for Sal, so I knew she wouldn’t have been waiting too long – if she was even there yet.

The shop was busy and it took me a while to find her. She was in the lingerie section, holding two bras and staring vacantly into space. She didn’t notice me until I was right in front of her, waving my hand in front of her face.

‘Oh, hi.’

‘Hi, space cadet. What planet are you on right now? Hmm … Planet Va-va-voom, by the looks of those!’ I gestured at the bras. They were lacy and black and nothing like the underwear Sal owned. Well, none that I’d seen.

‘These? Er … yeah … I wasn’t …’ She started to put them back on the rail.

‘But you totally
should
. At least get this one. Ooh … and get the knickers too … Here you go.’ I held out the matching set and raised my eyebrows suggestively. The knickers were tiny.

Sal shook her head. ‘I don’t think so …’

I tutted. ‘Well why were you even looking at them then? That’s
proper
pulling underwear. Hey, you weren’t planning on going on the pull without me, were you? Cos that is just not on!’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just … I’d already looked at everything else in the shop about four times, cos you’re so bloody late. I’m not buying them … I mean, they’re not really
me
, are they?’ She looked so embarrassed I wanted to hug her.

‘OK, fair enough. Sorry I’m late, but I’ve got a really good reason. You won’t
believe
it! But first things first, you should
absolutely
buy this underwear. Even if you don’t want to wear it now, you’ll be thanking me when Mr Fabulous comes knocking on your door. Trust me on this one.’

Sal shook her head again, but I could tell her resistance was flagging.

‘You know I’m right. Every girl should have some kick-ass underwear at the back of her knicker drawer – just for special occasions … And you never know when that special occasion might be. Do it. By the power vested in me as bestest friend ever, I ORDER you to buy these.’

Sal rolled her eyes, grabbed the hangers from me and headed off to the cash desk.
Result
.

We left the shop, after a lot of muttering from Sal about not really being able to afford her purchases.

‘Soooo … aren’t you going to ask me why I was late?’

Sal obliged. ‘Why were you late then?’

‘Ah, all in good time, my dear. I reckon this kind of gossip definitely calls for a drink. What do you say? Might help the hangover – hair of the dog?’

Sal wasn’t sure. She looked at her watch and ummed and ahhed a bit.

‘Come on … you know you want to. We can celebrate your first foray into ooh-la-la lingerie.’ That comment got the withering look it deserved, so I tried one last avenue of attack. ‘I’m buying?’ That clinched it.

A few minutes later we were settled on a sofa in a bar I’d never been to before. I slipped off my shoes and tucked my feet underneath me, took a sip from my stupidly big glass of red wine and relished the moment. There was nothing quite like having a sweet morsel of gossip to impart. I could tell Sal’s patience was wearing thin, but that just made it more fun for me.

When I couldn’t bear it any longer, I launched into the story. ‘Guess who’s got a secret admirer?’
A sufficiently intriguing start
.

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