Read Online Entangled by Cat Clarke - Free Book Online
Authors: Cat Clarke
Tags: General, Juvenile Fiction
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“Oh, I’ve only known you for five minutes but of course I’ll have sex with you. It might make me like myself a little bit more and finally prove I’m actually worth something, instead of just being some freak who cuts herself in a pathetic attempt to get sympathy from people—”’
I slapped Sal square in the face, hard.
Sal was shocked, and so was I. I’d never hit anyone in my life. I walked away, leaving her standing there gawping after me.
I felt numb. How could this have happened? Our friendship was over – that was for sure. There’d be no coming back from this. All this time I’d thought Sal cared about me … and then to hear her spouting that poison?
I started to run. As fast as I could. Far away from Sal. Far away from everything.
But no matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t outrun my tears.
day 15
More dreams. Some that seemed to go on forever, and some that were just snapshots. There’s only one that I can remember clearly though; the others fade every time I try to focus my mind. Maybe I’ll remember later. I’m not one of those people who think that dreams necessarily mean anything, but I suppose I’m open-minded about the whole thing.
Last night I dreamed I was having sex with Nat. Everything about it was just right. His smell, his touch on my skin, the movement of his taut sinewy back muscles under my hands. We weren’t in his bed or mine – we were in Sal’s bed. The sex was good, maybe even better than it ever was in real life.
And then the old dream-morphing trick happened again, and suddenly it was Ethan on top of me. But it was still Nat too. A kind of Ethan/Nat hybrid of gorgeousness.
Afterwards, I lay with my head on his chest. It was definitely all Ethan now. His chest was so very pale.
I lay there for what seemed like hours. Until I noticed that I couldn’t hear his heartbeat. His chest wasn’t moving up and down the way it should – he wasn’t breathing. I bolted upright to look at his face. And he just smiled a peaceful smile at me and said, ‘What’s the matter, Gracie?’ I told him I couldn’t hear his heartbeat and I’d thought he was dead. He smiled again, shaking his head as if I was overreacting. ‘Maybe you’re just not listening hard enough? Listen carefully and you can hear the ocean.’ I pressed my ear against his chest and there was a heartbeat, faint but definitely there. And I could hear the ocean – the tide flowing in and out, in and out. I smiled.
And then I woke up – half horny, half puzzled. Dreams are tiring.
Something’s changed in me, I think. I can’t pinpoint exactly when it changed, but it definitely has. I’ve stopped questioning why I’m here. I just am. This is the way things are. I don’t know how it’s going to turn out, but maybe it doesn’t matter.
But I still want to know about Ethan. I need to know about Ethan. What does he do all day? Where does he sleep? Does he ever go outside? Is he happy?
I’m going to try to speak to him, properly. No more petulance, no more tears.
I start today.
After lunch, Ethan brought me some grey trackie bottoms and a couple of white vests. Some underwear too. Everything fits. When he handed over the neatly folded pile, I looked at him quizzically.
He blushed. ‘For when you exercise, I thought you’d …’ I thanked him, noticing a couple of black hair bobbles nestled on top of the pile. He’d obviously really thought about this. It’s only now that I’m wondering how he knew I’d started exercising. And how did he know that it wasn’t just a one-off?
It felt good to be out of those pyjamas for a while. Felt a bit like me again. It was good to get some exercise – to do something else besides remembering. Even tried to do some press-ups, before I realized that was a tad overambitious after hardly having moved for two weeks. I’m going to have to try to do a little bit more every day if I’m going to stay healthy.
Ethan came back later this afternoon. I was lying on
I slapped Sal square in the face, hard.
Sal was shocked, and so was I. I’d never hit anyone in my life. I walked away, leaving her standing there gawping after me.
I felt numb. How could this have happened? Our friendship was over – that was for sure. There’d be no coming back from this. All this time I’d thought Sal cared about me … and then to hear her spouting that poison?
I started to run. As fast as I could. Far away from Sal. Far away from everything.
But no matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t outrun my tears.
day 15
More dreams. Some that seemed to go on forever, and some that were just snapshots. There’s only one that I can remember clearly though; the others fade every time I try to focus my mind. Maybe I’ll remember later. I’m not one of those people who think that dreams necessarily mean anything, but I suppose I’m open-minded about the whole thing.
Last night I dreamed I was having sex with Nat. Everything about it was just right. His smell, his touch on my skin, the movement of his taut sinewy back muscles under my hands. We weren’t in his bed or mine – we were in Sal’s bed. The sex was good, maybe even better than it ever was in real life.
And then the old dream-morphing trick happened again, and suddenly it was Ethan on top of me. But it was still Nat too. A kind of Ethan/Nat hybrid of gorgeousness.
Afterwards, I lay with my head on his chest. It was definitely all Ethan now. His chest was so very pale.
I lay there for what seemed like hours. Until I noticed that I couldn’t hear his heartbeat. His chest wasn’t moving up and down the way it should – he wasn’t breathing. I bolted upright to look at his face. And he just smiled a peaceful smile at me and said, ‘What’s the matter, Gracie?’ I told him I couldn’t hear his heartbeat and I’d thought he was dead. He smiled again, shaking his head as if I was overreacting. ‘Maybe you’re just not listening hard enough? Listen carefully and you can hear the ocean.’ I pressed my ear against his chest and there was a heartbeat, faint but definitely there. And I could hear the ocean – the tide flowing in and out, in and out. I smiled.
And then I woke up – half horny, half puzzled. Dreams are tiring.
Something’s changed in me, I think. I can’t pinpoint exactly when it changed, but it definitely has. I’ve stopped questioning why I’m here. I just am. This is the way things are. I don’t know how it’s going to turn out, but maybe it doesn’t matter.
But I still want to know about Ethan. I need to know about Ethan. What does he do all day? Where does he sleep? Does he ever go outside? Is he happy?
I’m going to try to speak to him, properly. No more petulance, no more tears.
I start today.
After lunch, Ethan brought me some grey trackie bottoms and a couple of white vests. Some underwear too. Everything fits. When he handed over the neatly folded pile, I looked at him quizzically.
He blushed. ‘For when you exercise, I thought you’d …’ I thanked him, noticing a couple of black hair bobbles nestled on top of the pile. He’d obviously really thought about this. It’s only now that I’m wondering how he knew I’d started exercising. And how did he know that it wasn’t just a one-off?
It felt good to be out of those pyjamas for a while. Felt a bit like me again. It was good to get some exercise – to do something else besides remembering. Even tried to do some press-ups, before I realized that was a tad overambitious after hardly having moved for two weeks. I’m going to have to try to do a little bit more every day if I’m going to stay healthy.
Ethan came back later this afternoon. I was lying on
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