Entangled (10 page)

‘I didn’t mean it. Just because we feel differently about the whole sex thing doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.’ She paused. ‘You know, you said some pretty harsh things too.’

I pulled my hand away from hers. ‘Well, I was feeling pretty fucking defensive, wasn’t I?! It’s not every day I get blamed for someone getting pregnant, especially since I seem to be lacking the right equipment for the job!’

We sat in silence for a while. Sal had stopped crying and was picking at a hole in her jeans.

‘I had the abortion.’ Her voice was flat.

‘Was it awful?’

‘I don’t know. It was weird. It was a relief, I suppose. I thought it would all be OK afterwards, and maybe it would have been if I hadn’t pushed you away.’

‘Did you go by yourself?’

Sal nodded, and I felt some of the bad feeling between us slip away into the night.

‘I wish you’d have let me be there.’

‘So do I.’

We looked at each other and I thought that maybe (just maybe) it was going to be all right for us. Maybe things could get back to normal. I wasn’t going to forget the things she’d said. And she probably wasn’t going to forget what I’d said – or the fact that I’d slapped her good and proper. But maybe there was a chance to move beyond all that.

‘I’ve missed you loads as well, you know.’ We smiled shy little smiles at each other. ‘Come here, you.’ I grabbed her in a hug. Now it was time for me to start blubbing, and Sal blubbed right along with me.

Eventually, I pulled away and looked at her. Tear-shiny, puffy face. ‘Wow. I hope I don’t look as bad as you!’

Sal laughed. ‘Well, you do. Unless you think blotchy is a particularly good look …?’

‘I’ve always been quite partial to it myself! Listen, do you want to come back to mine. We can have a proper catch-up. It’s … It’s been too long.’

Back at home, I grabbed a bag of crisps and some salsa and we headed up to my room. Within a few minutes we were back in our all-too familiar positions – me propped up against the headboard with some pillows, Sal sitting opposite me cross-legged, food in the middle.

‘So … have you seen your favourite would-be stalker recently?’

Sal looked up a little too quickly. ‘I take it you mean Devon? Nah, haven’t seen him since … Haven’t seen him for ages.’

I was sceptical. ‘Really? What kind of rubbish stalker is he if he can’t even follow you around properly? He’ll have to give his night-vision goggles back at stalker school.’ Sal ignored my pathetic attempt at humour, and I felt a twinge of guilt about taking the piss out of Devon.

Sal munched on a crisp before casually asking me if
I’d
seen him. I thought for a split second that maybe Devon had managed to do a bit more than stalk Sal after all. And then my thoughts speedily bounced back to little old me, as per usual. I’d kind of wanted to keep the stuff about me and Nat to myself until I was feeling one hundred per cent about Sal. But I was up to a good seventy-five, and the comforting familiarity of the circumstances was hard to ignore.

I traced a finger over the pattern of the duvet cover, suddenly all coy. Not like me at all. But somehow this was different.

I cleared my throat and avoided eye contact. ‘Er … I have seen him actually. I’m sort of … well, I’m seeing his brother.’ I looked up shyly to see Sal’s reaction. Not the one of complete gleeful surprise I was hoping for. More like a head-nodding ‘Huh, interesting’ sort of look.
Disappointing
.

‘Really?’ That was the best she could do. I tried not to show that I cared.

‘Yeah. You didn’t tell me Devon had such a fit brother! Wanted to keep him all to yourself, did you?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. I …’

‘Sal, I was
joking
!’ Neither of us was laughing.

Then Sal said, ‘I’m really happy for you. Tell me EVERYTHING.’ I looked at her, trying to gauge her actual interest level, but it was hard to fault her. Her eyes were bright and her grin was firmly back in place.

‘Well,’ I started, with fake reluctance, ‘he’s just … great. I’ve only been seeing him a few weeks, but it feels, I don’t know, different. There’s something about him. I think I could fall in love with him.’ I paused. ‘In fact, I think I already have.’ I could not believe I’d just said that. But the words sounded right.

Sal looked at me disbelievingly. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

‘Er … no. Why is it so hard to believe?’

‘It’s not. I suppose it just doesn’t sound like you. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s great. I just thought you didn’t buy into all that love stuff.’

I shrugged. ‘Maybe I’ve changed. He really is different, you know. Those other boys were, well, they were losers, weren’t they? Nat makes me feel like I’m worth something. I didn’t think I’d meet someone like that. Part of me thinks that he’s going to realize what I’m really like and run a mile.’

‘You deserve this, Grace – someone to treat you properly.’

‘Whether I deserve him or not, I’m hanging on to him for dear life!’ We both laughed. ‘I can’t wait for you to meet him. You’re gonna love him – though not too much, I hope! The three of us should go out one night. It’ll be great. God, I hope you do like him. I’m sure you will. And he’ll definitely like you. You’ve got loads in common. Jesus, I’m wittering, aren’t I? Just tell me to shut up.’

Sal smiled, happy to indulge me. ‘You don’t have to shut up! So what is it that makes this one so special?’

‘I suppose it would be too lame to say “EVERYTHING”?’

‘Yes, that is
definitely
too lame!’

I sat back and thought a little. ‘He makes me feel giddy. He’s incredibly hot, but I don’t just want to have sex with him – I want to be his friend. I want to talk to him and find out what he thinks about things. And it feels like he sees something different in me … Maybe I’m not explaining it very well. He makes me feel good about myself. And I feel safe when I’m with him.’ I looked up at Sal, certain she was going to chuck a pillow at my head for being so cheesy, but she had a faraway, wistful look in her eyes. I suddenly realized that maybe this was the last thing she wanted to be talking about right now.

‘Sorry, Sal. I’m going to shut up now. Enough Nat chat! Let’s talk about something else.’

Sal refocused her eyes on mine and smiled. ‘I don’t have much to say, I’m afraid.’

I saw the opportunity to say something I felt needed to be said. ‘I know you probably don’t want to talk about this, but I just want you to know something. If you do want to tell me what happened and who you slept with, I’m here to listen. I won’t judge you, or think any less of you, no matter what you say. You’re my best friend and I love you. You can tell me anything.’

There was a bit of an awkward silence before Sal said, ‘Thank you. That means a lot. I just need you to understand that I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Fair enough.’ I shrugged, hiding my frustration fairly well. I’d sort of hoped that Sal would open up after I’d bared my soul about Nat. Except it wasn’t really the same thing, was it?

I wish I knew what time it is. I’m exhausted. Today has been dullsville. Ethan eventually appeared with my breakfast. He asked if I was hungry and seemed to be genuinely sorry when I said that I was starving (slight exaggeration, but my stomach
was
making some rather fetching gurgling noises).

After my breakfast had settled, I ramped up the exercise a bit. Two hundred sit-ups, some random stretches and running for (I guess) thirty minutes. It felt good. No wonder I’m so knackered though.

There’s not much more to tell about the Great Sal and Grace Reunion. After a couple more hours of inane chatter, and A LOT more of me mooning about Nat (despite my best intentions not to), Sal and I fell asleep. I woke up the next morning sprawled diagonally across the bed, still in my clothes. Sal was curled up at the bottom of the bed, her hair covering her face.

I sat up and reached for the glass of water I always keep by my bed, but my coordination was clearly a bit off and I ended up side-swiping the glass onto the floor. I swore loudly, and Sal woke up. She stretched, groaned a little and turned to give me a sleepy smile. In that moment, I’d have bet money that we were thinking the same thing. Something along the lines of: ‘Maybe things can get back to normal after all.’

Or perhaps that was just me.

day 20

Funny dream last night. I was in the bathroom, brushing my teeth. I bent down to rinse out my mouth, and when I straightened up and looked in the mirror, I saw Ethan instead of me. I looked down at myself, to confirm that I was in fact me. And I was. But when I looked at my reflection again, there he was, looking back at me in puzzlement. I reached out to touch the mirror, and the Ethan-in-the-mirror did the same. I touched my finger to my lip, and he traced his finger down his silvery scar. I wasn’t entirely freaked out. Some part of my mind just accepted it, and I carried on washing my face, brushing my hair, looking in the mirror pretty much the whole time. Mirror Ethan was wearing jeans and a green shirt that I felt I’d seen him in before. I was sorely tempted to take off my pyjamas, just to see if Mirror Ethan would do the same. But it didn’t seem the right thing to do.

I turned to leave the bathroom, and then quickly spun back round to face the mirror. I didn’t know what I was expecting to see, but it was still Ethan, looking like I felt – a little bit stupid and shifty. When I came back into the bedroom, Ethan was asleep in the bed, wearing my pyjamas. I leaned over him and listened to him breathe. His breathing was laboured. Suddenly he opened his eyes, scaring the life out of me. He whispered, ‘Wake up, sleepyhead,’ and reached for my hand.

And then I woke up. I felt a bit strange. Almost peaceful. Serene and accepting. The dream only came back to me later, after Ethan had been here. Before then, I’d just felt like I’d had a really good night’s sleep and I was somehow ready to tackle the day ahead, whatever it might bring. Even though I knew full well it would only bring three square meals, an enigmatic kidnapper and not a whole lot else.

When Ethan came in after lunch I was sitting at the table staring into space, trailing my fork back and forth across the plate. He perched on the edge of the bed, which was starting to become a regular occurrence. He said nothing, merely tucked his hands under his thighs as if to keep them warm, and then looked at me expectantly. I
did
have something on my mind.

‘How do you know what foods I like?’

Ethan said nothing.

‘Seriously, how come everything you’ve cooked for me or brought me is something I like?’

He shrugged.

‘I mean, I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful or anything, cos I am. I just think it’s kind of weird. You’d think that you’d have got it wrong once or twice. But there hasn’t been any fish, or broccoli, or nuts, or Brussels sprouts for that matter …’

‘Grace,
no one
likes Brussels sprouts.’

‘Huh. Good point, but still, you know what I mean.’

‘What do you want me to say? That I’ve been secretly spying on you for months, carefully noting down all your food preferences? Would that make you feel better?’ He was mocking me and I didn’t like it.

‘No, I just want you to tell me the truth. And it would be nice if you tried not to be too sarcastic while you’re doing it.’

‘We like the same things, Grace. Haven’t you noticed?’

‘Er … no. I haven’t.’ I sighed. ‘Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyway, does it? None of it matters.’

‘Don’t be like that. It all matters.
All
of it. When are you going to see that?’

Now I was getting really quite annoyed. Yes, enigmatic can be sexy, but it can also just be plain irritating.

‘Do you mind leaving? I’ve got stuff I want to do.’

‘If you say so, Grace.’ He didn’t seem to mind my rudeness. Just gathered up my dishes and left without another word.

After Ethan left, I thought about our conversation. There’s something I’ve noticed about the way he talks. He says my name A LOT. I think it’s a little strange. I mean, it’s normal to say someone’s name a bit, but saying it over and over again is kind of creepy. I wonder why he does it, or if he even realizes he’s doing it. I have this vague idea that maybe he’s trying to remind me who I am. In case I forget in this weird room of whiteness.

Dad used to say my name a lot too. I think he liked the way it sounded. Sometimes he called me Gracie-bear. It made me cringe, but I let him get away with it, cos it was just Dad being Dad. I think he stopped calling me that about the same time I went to secondary school. I didn’t notice or anything. I suppose he must have just phased it out – a small concession to the fact that his little girl was growing up. I’d give anything to hear him say it one more time. Or to hear him say anything. Or just to see him, sitting in his shabby old leather chair, frowning at the crossword.

I’d give anything.

day 21

Yesterday was pretty much a write-off once I got all maudlin. I cried and cried and cried. Ethan came in at one point. At least I think he did. It was all pretty blurry and hazy, but I think he sat with his hand resting on my shoulder while I lay sobbing on the bed. Or was that a dream? I can’t remember. Hmm. Losing touch with reality = not good.

I saw Nat a couple of days after me and Sal made up. I’d never even mentioned Sal to him before, which was a little bit weird, granted. But it was too messy to explain, and it didn’t exactly show me in the best light. And I definitely wanted him to see me in the best light (all soft focus and angelic … but not
too
angelic).

I hadn’t called or texted him after the thing with Devon. The ball was well and truly in his court this time. The waiting was agony. I’m not exactly the most patient person in the world. I prefer to go out and get things, rather than waiting for them to come to me. Plus, I’m never completely convinced that things are going to come to me anyway, so I like to make sure. But this time I was determined to wait. It was such a relief when he texted. I guessed that he and Devon must have sorted things out.

We agreed to meet in a pub in town after his shift. The pub was quiet when I arrived. Nat was sitting in the far corner, a pint in front of him, staring intently at the phone in his hand. His right leg was jiggling up and down under the table, and he was wearing the trainers he’d worn the night we met. They’d lost their shiny white newness. He looked good.

I walked over and touched his shoulder. He jumped a little, before jamming the phone in his pocket and standing to kiss me. His mouth tasted beery, but in a nice way. It had only been a few days, but I had missed kissing him. He got me a drink from the bar without me asking.

I took a sip. ‘Is this a double? Are you trying to get me drunk, mister?’

He wiggled his eyebrows at me. ‘Why? Would that be a problem?’

‘As long as you make sure to take advantage of me later, I’m fine with it.’ I leaned across the table and kissed him again. ‘So, what was so fascinating on your phone? It had better not be naked pictures of some other girl. Or naked pictures of some boy, for that matter.’ I mock-grimaced at the thought.

‘Maybe it was naked pictures of you.’

‘You don’t have any! And don’t try and say you took one while I was asleep, cos I know you’d do nothing of the sort. You’re too much of a gentleman.’

‘That’s what you think … Nah, it was just a text. Nothing important.’

I was curious about the mystery text, but I didn’t want to come over all psychojealousgirlfriendy, so I let it go. Nat told me what he’d been up to the last couple of days, while I listened, intertwining my fingers with his and generally gazing at him adoringly. Urgh. I HATE girls like that.

After a couple more drinks and a rather heated debate about the merits of various universities compared to others, I told him about Sal. I was so excited about them meeting each other.

‘Oh yeah, Devon mentioned some girl you were mates with.’ Nat didn’t seem all that interested, which kind of hurt a little bit. But I suppose it was fair enough. He wasn’t to know, was he?

‘She’s not “some girl”, she’s my best friend. We sort of fell out for a bit. It was just before I met you actually. Anyway, it was stupid, and everything’s totally cool now.’

‘Why didn’t you mention her before?’ Nat was looking at his pint glass, slowly turning it in his hand.

‘I dunno. Didn’t see the point, I suppose. I didn’t think Sal and I would ever be friends again and … I felt a bit stupid and sad about it all. And I didn’t want it to put a downer on how things were going with us.’

‘You could have talked to me about it, you know.’

‘I’m sorry. I should have, but let’s just forget about it. Sal’s dying to meet you, so we’ll have to sort something out soon. You’re going to love her!’

‘Sounds cool. I’m going to get more drinks in.’

While Nat was at the bar, I went through the conversation in my mind. So, he was a bit annoyed with me for not telling him. And he didn’t exactly seem wild about the prospect of meeting Sal. But he was a boy, and boys just don’t get excited about the same things we do. I was sure he’d be fine about it soon.

A bit later, Nat asked me why I’d fallen out with Sal. Maybe he
was
interested after all. I had no intention of telling him the truth – Sal wouldn’t have thanked me for that. I didn’t exactly feel happy about lying to him, but sometimes honesty isn’t the best policy.

‘It was stupid really. Just some ridiculous argument that snowballed out of control. And we were both too stubborn to apologize.’

Nat looked sceptical. ‘So it wasn’t even serious?’

‘Nah, not really. It seemed that way at the time, but it’s all in the past now.’

‘Man, girls are weird.’

I smiled. ‘Hey! Watch what you’re saying!’ I punched him gently on the shoulder. ‘Haven’t you ever fallen out with any of your mates?’

‘Yeah, I suppose. Sorry.’ He looked thoughtful.

‘Hey, it’s all right.’

‘Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking …’

‘What?’

He shook his head slightly and said, ‘Nah, it doesn’t matter.’ He picked up his pint and took a few gulps, then reached across the table and squeezed my hand. He gave me
that
look. ‘Listen, let’s get out of here. There’s no one home at mine.’

‘Thank God for that, cos my mum’s actually in for once. And although I’m sure she’d LOVE to meet you, I don’t think tonight is the night … considering what I’ve got in mind for you.’ I leaned across the table and brushed my lips against Nat’s ear, whispering the filthiest thing I could think of. It had the desired effect. I barely had time to grab my bag before he dragged me out of the pub.

Nat flagged down a taxi and we clambered into the back seat. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Managed to refrain from taking things too far, but it took more than a little bit of willpower. Plus, I wasn’t keen on the looks I was getting from the taxi driver in the rear-view mirror. The thought that he was getting a free show was kind of distracting. I pulled away from Nat and looked into his eyes.
Beautiful
. And he wanted me. He really, really wanted me. In that moment, I felt so lucky. And, in a weird way, sort of powerful. He was lost in his lust. It felt like I could have got him to do anything I wanted. Luckily for Nat, all I wanted him to do was me.

The sex was unbelievable. Nat was different – he was definitely the one in control this time. Made a nice change. Afterwards I lay beside him, my body pressed against his side, my left leg comfortably nestled between his legs.

I was happy.

This is getting harder. I want to put down the pen and tear up all this paper into tiny little pieces, throw them in the air and let them fall like snow. I could turn this room into one of those tacky snow globe things. A snow globe for a giant. Let the bath run and fill the room to the ceiling with water. I would drown, but that might be nice.