Run Away Read Online Free PDF Page A

beer, anyway.”
    Kayla hungrily imagined bacon sandwiches dripping in ketchup, or even a full English fry-­up with juicy sausages . . . her stomach cramped with hunger. She leapt out of bed, instantly regretting the sudden movement as an invisible man attacked her skull with a hammer. She picked up the beer and sweat-­stained T-­shirt she’d worn the night before. She pulled it on despite the fact that it failed the sniff test, and shook Russia’s shoulders.
    “It’s food time. Food!” No response. She’d fallen back into a comalike state. “Wake up, woman.”
    “Leave my hangover and I alone,” Russia grumbled.
    R I C E S O U P . S I N C E when were either rice or soup acceptable breakfast options? While Kayla knew she was in no danger of fading away—­she had an Olympic swimmer’s appetite and the curves to prove it—­she feared she might be emaciated by the end of the first week if this was what they’d be living off. The soup looked like the vomit Francesca still had cemented in her hair. Russia turned her nose up at the greasy waiter.
    “I think I’ll stick to the coffee, thanks. Triple shot, plenty of cream.”
    “Make that two,” Kayla agreed. “Today is a hard day.”
    The rest of the Escaping Grey crew piled into the tiny, low-­ceilinged café, making it completely inaccessible to any other customers. The windows had obviously been cleaned rather haphazardly, still streaked with spirals of soap suds, and exhaust fumes from the road leaked in every time the door opened.
    Dave slumped dramatically into a spare seat. “Wow.” Kayla caught him exchanging a sly glance with Russia, who blushed and turned away. “What the bloody hell happened last night?”
    “Beats me. Do they sell sausage and egg McMuffins in here, do you reckon?” Sam looked around for something, anything, he could realistically eat for breakfast without throwing up.
    “There’s no Ronald McDonald to be seen, sadly. You’re welcome to sample some of this horse semen soup, though.”
    “Russia! That’s disgusting,” Bling said, without looking up from the smartphone she was deeply absorbed in.
    “Hey Sam, where’d you get a British newspaper?” Kayla asked. Sam was flicking through the same broadsheet Kayla’s dad bought every Sunday morning. C Y B E R T E R R O R I S T S L E A K I N T E L L I G E N C E A G E N C Y I N F O was the headline.
    “Little newsagent round the corner. Cost me more baht than the average house deposit. Won’t be doing that again.” Sam took a sip of the lukewarm coffee the tiny Thai waiter had just plonked in front of him, which Kayla had now discovered was more akin to dishwater. He grimaced slightly as it slid past his taste buds and down his throat. ”Cheers!”
    B U S P O L I T ICS: FUELING adolescent insecurity since the invention of the wheel.
    For some reason, deciding who sits where and next to whom causes an uproar regardless of age. Ralph, Thomas, and Francesca commanded the back row. Zhang Qiang sat at the very front next to Oliver, who had livened up after sleeping off his life-­threatening hangover. He was now faced with the daunting task of making conversation with a young Chinese girl who suffered from a crippling case of shyness. Which left Kayla, Russia, Bling, Sam, and Dave in the exact same position they’d all been in during high school: the middle of the bus, neither cool nor uncool.
    Apart from Dave. Dave was desperately uncool. But such was his appeal.
    Kayla grabbed a window seat. It was going to be a long journey, and she wanted to absorb as much scenery as she could before returning to smog central. Sam swung into the aisle seat next to her, landing on her left leg in a clumsy fashion that gave telling context to his wonky nose. She laughed. “Oh hello, you useless twat.” She instantly blushed. Is it too soon to take the piss out of him?
    “Excuse me, my name is Sam, if you don’t mind. I don’t know who this Useless Twat fellow is.” Kayla thumped