Free Entangled by Cat Clarke

driver looked at me sceptically, even going so far as to use my very own eyebrow trick against me.
    I was indignant. ‘It’s true! Please. I need to get home. I’m cold, I’m wet. Come on …’ The driver just shook his head. He’d yet to utter a word.
    I felt a tap on my shoulder. Bus-stop boy stepped around me and stood in front of the driver. ‘Two singles, please,’ and I heard the jangle of money dropping into the money-collecting tickety machine thing. Without even a look over his shoulder, he hurried forward and up the stairs.
    The driver smirked. ‘All right for some.’
    I walked past him, saying nothing.
    I was so relieved. My legs were leaden. Maybe drinking and running hadn’t been such a stellar idea after all. I trudged up the stairs. The bus was half full in that irritating way – every double seat had a single person on it. I spotted bus-stop boy towards the back. Normally I like to sit as near to the front as I can. When Dad used to take me to the park I would run up the stairs as fast as I could, praying that the front seat would be empty. I liked to pretend I was driving the bus. I was very good at pretending.
    I slid onto the seat next to the boy and said thank you. He looked up and smiled, and for the first time I got to see his eyes. They were blue, and framed by the longest eyelashes I have ever seen on a boy. He was quite pale, and looked as tired as I felt. I suddenly realized what a sight I must look. I pushed a stray bit of hair behind my ear and tried to surreptitiously check out my reflection in the window. It was no good – he was in the way. No make-up and sweaty running clothes: there was no way he would be interested. And I wasn’t interested either. Who am I kidding? I’m always interested . It had been a crappy day, I was probably still a bit worse for wear and I was sitting next to a (sort of) fit boy.
    ‘That was really nice of you, paying my fare.’
    ‘No worries. I couldn’t just leave you stranded there, could I?’ He smiled again. Nice smile, good teeth (very important). ‘Not the nicest night for a run,’ he said. The raindrops streaked along the window next to him.
    ‘Yeah, it was a spur of the moment thing. Went out a bit too hard, I suppose. Need to pace myself a bit better next time.’ I shrugged.
    ‘Or bring your bus fare with you?’ We smiled at each other. Hmm, I like .
    ‘I’m Grace, by the way.’
    ‘Nat. Nice to meet you.’
    ‘You too. So do you make a habit of rescuing damsels in distress then, Nat?’
    He smiled a quick smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘I wish.’
    I waited for him to explain, but he shook his head and said, ‘Never mind.’ I let it go.
    So we talked. That is, I asked a lot of questions. And he answered them in a perfectly polite, friendly fashion. He asked me stuff too, but I could tell that he wasn’t that interested. I mean, he was kind of interested, but I wasn’t getting the right signals. Something was slightly off, and my radar was screaming GIRLFRIEND ALERT! GIRLFRIEND ALERT! So I asked THE question.
    Nat shook his head and said no. I believed him, but there was something a bit weird about the way he said it. I couldn’t put my finger on it, so I ignored it.
    Things I learned about Nat on the bus
1. He was nineteen.
2. He’d just finished his first year at uni and was home for the summer.
3. He was studying medicine (clever as well as pretty – yay!).
4. He’d bought the trainers that day and was embarrassed about their shiny white obvious newness.
5. He was working part-time in some crappy pub in town.
6. He’d spent three months last summer doing some kind of charity work in Nepal. Obviously the caring, sharing type.
7. He was yummy.
    He also admitted – very reluctantly – that he still hadn’t passed his driving test. Hence the need to get buses everywhere. He was embarrassed about that; he was really cute when he was embarrassed. His eyelashes made him look all coy and sweet.
    For the