Stranded

c r a s h a n d b u r n

Dear readers, (when and if there are any!)

This is my first 'proper' book on Wattpad. It would be a dream come true to get some reads , but more importantly comments! Having read lots of popular stories on the website, I was amazed by the enthusiasm of devoted readers on some of my favourite books. I love the idea of having readers who are so hooked that they can't wait for your next instalment.

I'm very excited about this plot, and I have loads of ideas, but none of the plans for my story are concrete, so I'd love to hear what your opinions are as you read. I like the idea of giving my readers the freedom to choose the direction of the story as it's written. Chapter by chapter!

I just love writing, and I really hope that some of you can share in the joy of this with me!

Love,

Clara x

1. Crash and Burn

"Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats and securely fasten your seat belts. We are experiencing some minor turbulence."

It certainly didn't feel minor. The plane appeared to be dodging an invisible enemy. It swerved at dramatic angles through the sky, tossing Olive's insides around like a garden salad.

She sneaked a glance at Michael. He hated flying, and intense discomfort was clearly visible on his face. 3 months ago, she could have been the one comforting him.

Olive sighed and closed her eyes, imagining running her fingers teasingly over Michael's knuckles, whispering words of encouragement whilst hiding an amused smile. Maybe they could even have crept into the plane toilets and...

But no. He had Ella for that now.

Olive's eyes flew open again and she trained her gaze back to Michael and the girl perched on the seat neighbouring his. She smiled bitterly as Ella grabbed an organic face wipe from her Greenpeace bag and dabbed at her boyfriend's clammy forehead, cooing repeatedly like a traumatised wood pigeon.

Jesus, that girl was annoying.

Michael muttered something in an irritated tone and dismissed Ella with a wave of his hand. She scowled and turned her head with a flourish, making a point of looking away.

Well, at least they were fighting again. That was something.

Olive felt a sharp tap on her right shoulder, and she turned to meet the mocking, green-eyed gaze of her neighbour.

"I'm sure he's not worth it", murmured her smirking companion, gesturing first to Olive and then to a scowling, ashen-faced Michael. Olive was surprised by the confidence of the stranger. He must have been watching her.

"No. He's certainly not," she replied with a grimace. The boy's eyebrows knotted in confusion.

"Then why-"

Olive's stomach somersaulted as the plane lurched suddenly to the right.

"Woah," she exhaled, before reaching to clasp her neighbour's hand like it was a subconscious reflex.

She expected the stranger to jerk backwards in disgust, but his hand flexed and then tightened around hers. It felt good. Natural, even.

Though her eyes were squeezed shut during her moment of queasiness and embarrassment, she felt sure she could hear a deep chuckle coming from her companion.

It was Olive who pulled away once the plane righted itself. Sorry," she gushed nervously: "Not a very good flyer."

Ignoring her, the stranger turned and looked out of the window. There was silence for a short while, and Olive tried desperately to calm the furious blush on her face and neck.