Read Online Entangled by Cat Clarke - Free Book Online Page B

a) I had dropped that girl like a particularly heavy brick and didn’t deserve her concern, and b) I’d lied to her about the pregnancy test. So my indignation was hardly righteous.
    I called no one, and no one called me. I was suffocating with loneliness. The pain was almost physical. I felt like tearing myself apart. I wanted to escape from my own skin.
    And then one night everything changed. I’d spent the evening in my room, drinking, trying to forget. Listening to depressing music. Being such a teenager . It even struck me at the time: I was a cliché, and not even a good one.
    I decided to get up off my arse and do something. I changed into my leggings and an old T-shirt, put on my trusty trainers and bolted out of the house. Running while inebriated: I can thoroughly recommend it. I flew through the streets. Yeah, there was a bit of stumbling here and there, but other than that I’d say the alcohol was more of a help than a hindrance. It wasn’t long before I felt that same rush that running always gives me. I could have run forever. It didn’t even bother me when it started to rain. I just pounded the pavement even harder.
    I didn’t mean to end up at Sal’s house. Not consciously anyway. But sure enough, that was where I found myself. Leaning against a lamp post, looking up at her bedroom window like some kind of crazed stalker. I stood there, trying to catch my breath, wondering what to do. I didn’t feel drunk any more, that was for sure. It wasn’t that late; Sal’s light was on. The curtains were drawn. I was so close to striding up to the front door and ringing the doorbell. I was torn. Part of me wanted to grab Sal, give her the biggest hug in the world and pray that everything could go back to how it had been before. And part of me wanted to grab her and shake her and shout and scream, ‘How could you say those things to me?!’ I wanted to do both of those things and neither of them. I did nothing.
    I turned my back on Sal’s house and slouched off down the street. Suddenly the idea of running all the way home didn’t seem so appealing. I felt sick, and just … sad. I headed for the nearest bus stop without a second thought. There was a boy there, sitting in the bus shelter in the dark. The light must have been broken. I sat at the other end of the bench; I didn’t have the energy to stand. I leaned my head back against the glass and closed my eyes. I breathed – in and out, in and out, trying to empty my head of everything. It was raining again. I could hear it pattering against the roof of the shelter, and the slick sound of car tyres on wet tarmac.
    I knew the boy was watching me. You can feel it sometimes, can’t you? With a sigh I opened my eyes and turned towards him. He looked away quickly – guiltily. And then back at me, to see if I was still looking. I was. He looked away again. And then back again! I treated him to my trademark eyebrow raise.
    He stuttered, ‘Sorry. I … Sorry.’ I said nothing, just looked at him. He was kind of hot. Scruffy, shortish blond hair, a bit unshaven. Nice strong face with a good straight nose. I couldn’t tell what colour his eyes were. Clothes-wise he was going for the T-shirt over a long-sleeved T-shirt look – it worked for me. Even in the darkness I could make out a pair of bright white trainers peeking out from the bottom of his jeans. I wasn’t looking him up and down, you understand. I took in this information in a millisecond (or maybe two).
    ‘Can I help you?’ I said, but not in a mean way.
    He looked embarrassed. ‘Er, no. Sorry.’ Then he looked away – again! He was a shy one all right. I closed my eyes again, not really caring if he took the opportunity to look me over. I wasn’t in the mood.
    I opened my eyes when I heard a bus pull up. The bright lights of the bus dazzled me as I approached the surly-looking driver. And realized I didn’t have my purse. Idiot .
    ‘I … Sorry. I seem to have left my purse at home.’
    The