by Emma Slate
“Yeah,” I said with a nod.
Hunter’s hands didn’t leave my face. Instead, he leaned down, hesitated a moment, and then placed a kiss on my lips. It was quick, minty.
“Does this mean you’ll no longer ignore my calls?”
“Maybe,” I said with a teasing grin.
His answering smile was light and playful. Dropping his hands, he shoved them into his pockets. Hunter looked ready for a day at the country club. Khakis, button-down, pea coat.
Based only on looks, he wasn’t someone I would’ve considered being with. But appearances were deceiving, and he’d proven multiple times that he wasn’t just some frat boy, athlete stereotype.
“Why are you looking at me that way?” he wondered aloud.
I shrugged. “You surprise me. And most people don’t.”
“You think I’m special.” He swept me into his arms, lifted me off the ground, and twirled me around for a moment. Setting me down, he stepped back.
“I do,” I replied. “Thank you.”
“For what? Surprising you?”
I shook my head. “For not running.”
“Why would I run?”
I rubbed my hand down my arm in a nervous gesture. “I haven’t made it easy on you.”
“Someone hurt you in the past.”
I thought about it a moment and then nodded.
“Ex-boyfriend?”
“Father,” I clarified. “He left.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah…”
“We don’t have to talk about it. Not now.”
“Not a lot to talk about,” I said, striving for casual. “Pretty classic, text book case of abandonment. Nothing unique.”
“I like you, Poppy.”
“Even though I’m difficult?”
He smiled. “Says who? Your mother?”
“Oh, now you really do have me pegged.” I laughed.
“You’re not difficult. You just have your things. We all have our things. It is what it is.”
I cocked my head to the side. “What are your things, Hunter? Because you seem really well-adjusted.”
“I am well-adjusted,” he teased. “You’re so far out of my comfort zone. And when you showed up at my house party, you just…I don’t know. You’re just…yeah, I’m not explaining it right.” He sighed.
“We’re different. Have different interests, lives, hobbies, but meeting you made me want to jump out of my routine. And I think—” I swallowed. “If I let you, you’ll make me a better person.”
Hunter blinked blue eyes at me and didn’t say anything for a moment. Finally he said, “Well, shit. Yeah. That’s exactly how it is.”
We both laughed. Hugging him goodbye one last time, I forced myself away from him. Our date tonight couldn’t come soon enough.
“That was a nice little goodbye,” Anita said the moment I walked through the door.
“What were you doing? Standing by the window like a creeper?”
She pretended to look offended. “Just for a minute.”
“Well, at least you admitted it,” I said with a grin. I shrugged out of my jacket and hung it up and then kicked off my Vans.
“Nice hoodie.”
“Be quiet. Please.”
“You get any?” Anita persisted.
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t go to Hunter’s for a booty call.”
She snorted with laughter. “You said ‘booty call.’ You’re funny. You went to bed here, Poppy. But you didn’t wake up here. What time did you leave? Midnight? One?”
“Cool it, Detective.”
She held up her hands in supplication, but thankfully she quieted down.
“Did you have fun with Jonah?”
“Always.” She flashed a bright smile. “So. You’re wearing his hoodie, he walked you home, and from what I saw, you guys were looking really close.”
“You only spied on us for a minute, huh?” I asked, amused against my will.
“Put me out of my misery already! Are you finally giving Hunter a chance?”
I nodded.
She squealed. “You guys wanna double date soon?”
“Whoa. Slow down there. Just because you think Jonah’s the one—”
“Shhh!” She waved her hand at me and glanced at the closed door of the bathroom. “Jonah’s still here. Keep what I said on lock down.”
I saluted her.
“You’re not wearing your glasses,” she noticed.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
Before I could come up with a good lie, the bathroom door opened and Jonah strolled out in a towel.
“Hey, Poppy!” he greeted before striding toward Anita’s bedroom.
I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “He’s comfortable here.”
“Yeah,” she sighed all dreamy.
“I need to get moving if I want to make it to class.”
“Okay, but I want details of your night with Hunter.”
“There’s nothing to share,” I lied.
“You’re awful. There so is. And I’m not giving up until you tell me something. Anything.”
She followed me toward my bedroom, and I knew if I wanted to get her off my back I had to throw her a bone. “He’s a good snuggler. There. That’s all you get.”
“Not dirty enough!” she called with a laugh as I shut the door to get some privacy. I loved my cousin, but she could be relentless.
I turned toward my dresser and stopped.
There, on the vanity, was the spider in the cube.
Chapter 11
It was impossible.
I’d thrown the damn thing into the lake.
It was supposed to be underwater.
“No,” I whispered. “No, no, no, no, no.”
Fear wrapped its unyielding claws around my throat and squeezed.
Breathe.
I screamed.
My door burst open and Anita rushed in, wielding a bat. “What? What is it?” she demanded, looking around for a threat.
“I saw a Palmetto bug,” I lied.
She lowered the bat. “Shit. Yeah. Those make me scream too. Cockroaches that fly? Fuck all that noise.”
I let out a strangled laugh. “Right?” I glanced at her weapon of choice. “Really?”
“I grabbed the first thing I could. I’m good in a crisis.”
Jonah appeared in the doorway, dressed in real clothes. “You guys okay? You see a spider or something? Want me to kill it?”
Oh, the bloody irony, I thought miserably. I stepped in front of my dresser to shield the spider in the cube and gave Anita a pointed look.
“Uh, maybe I should fill you in on Poppy’s life.” She pushed him out of my room and followed him.
Closing the door, I leaned against it and stared at the cube.
Beautiful little liar.
“Okay, that’s enough,” I snapped.
Why did you try to drown me?
“What the hell is this?” I sank to the floor, pulled up my knees, and rested my head on them. Something was happening. Something I didn’t believe was possible.
I believed in science—there had to be a rational, logical explanation. Reason would get me through this.
You won’t find an explanation for this in a textbook.
“Hush, you.”
Great, I was talking back to it.
“You got a name, Spider?”
Don’t call me that.
“How can you talk to me? And why is your color darkening? Aren’t you dead?”
The spider didn’t reply.
“Just as I thought. I’m not going insane—I am insane.”
Not insane.
“Then what is this?” I demanded.
There was a knock on my door. “Are you okay? Who are you talking to?”
“I’m on the phone,” I called back.
Anita paused and then moved away. I held my breath and focused on the spider. “What is it you’re wrapped around?”
A black sto
ne.
“Not an egg?”
No, not an egg.
Somehow, I’d felt that the spider’s tone was full of gentle amusement. How could I sense that?
Oh God, I’m unraveling.
“You’re mocking me.”
Wasn’t my intent.
“What’s your name?” I asked again.
Try asking that question with your mind.
“Um…yeah, because this isn’t weird enough.”
Just try.
I formed the question but didn’t voice it aloud. The spider didn’t reply.
“Didn’t hear me, did you?”
No.
“Well, how are you speaking to me? Why can I hear you, but you can’t hear me?”
Picture a spider web. Place your question on a silk thread in your mind. Gently push it toward me.
“That makes no sense.”
You have no imagination.
“I beg to differ,” I snapped. “Aside from insanity, imagination is the only explanation. I wonder if I’m tripping.”
You do drugs?
“No.”
Then it couldn’t possibly be a drug-induced hallucination, could it?
“I’m sick. I have a tumor that makes me hallucinate.”
What is it about human minds? They have no explanation for something, and they immediately leap to a conclusion where they doubt their own perception of reality. You are not insane, you are not sick. Try again—picture the web. Close your eyes if it helps.
I took his suggestion. Shutting my eyes, I envisioned a spider web. White, ethereal. I took the words of my question, wrapped them in silk, and gave them a mental push.
An unseen force tugged on the silken swaddled question, pulling it away from me. And then my question disappeared into a black void.
Thane. My name is Thane.
My eyes snapped open and I said aloud, “It worked?”
It worked.
“Thane,” I murmured. I’d never heard of such a name. Can we try it again? I nudged with my mind.
Yes.
Excitement bubbled up inside me. I’d never blown off class before, but I planned on doing it now.
Give me a moment.
I’ll be here.
I slipped out of my room to see Jonah and Anita kissing by the front door.
“Later, Poppy,” Jonah said when he saw me.
“Bye.”
Anita shut the door behind him and turned to look at me. “Aren’t you going to be late for class?”
“I’m skipping it.”
She frowned. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Ah, I didn’t sleep well,” I lied. “I just need to lie down for an hour or two.”
“Okay,” she said, not looking like she believed me. She picked up her bag and hoisted it over one shoulder. “By the way, you left your cell phone on the coffee table. So you weren’t talking on it. Why did you lie?”
“You’re going to be late for class,” I reminded her, without answering her question.
“We’re not done talking about this. This is more than just sleepless nights, Poppy. And I’m no longer going to sit by and let you lie to me. Which by the way, you suck at.”
She left the apartment, leaving me to contemplate how to explain the unexplainable.
Are you coming back? Thane asked.
Shaking off my confrontation with Anita, I thought about Thane and this insane discovery.
How far does this connection go? Is it like a walkie-talkie that craps out?
Why don’t we find out?
Chapter 12
Borrowing Anita’s car, I drove forty-five minutes outside of Charleston to the swampy part of John’s Island while conversing with Thane in my mind. Our communication was not limited by space, apparently.
I parked on a hill overlooking wetlands. It started to drizzle, and I wanted to see outside, so I kept the car on, the windshield wipers flicking rain off the glass.
Why me? I asked again, for what had to be the tenth time.
Thane refused to answer. There were many questions he flat out declined to reply to. Why we could speak, why his coloring was changing, why he was in a glass cube.
My phone chimed. A text from Hunter. I shot off a quick response before setting it aside.
My turn to ask you some questions, Thane said.
Maybe I’ll answer them, maybe I won’t.
Fair.
What do you want to know?
Everything.
I laughed out loud. You can’t know everything.
Maybe not right away, he allowed. But eventually. In time. Start with your favorite beverage.
Sweet tea.
Favorite food.
Barbecue.
Really? He drawled in amusement.
Why is that a shock?
It’s not. But…it just reminds me that you’re different.
Different, I snorted. Right. I can talk to spiders.
Not spiders, just me. Tell me…why do you love spiders the way you do?
I don’t know. I’ve always been fascinated by them. Other girls would cry and scream and kill them, but not me. They didn’t scare me. They are stunning, misunderstood creatures.
Thane paused. Yes. We are.
What species are you? I asked. I sent a picture of you to seven different arachnologists and none of them could identify you.
I’m unique. Undiscovered by mankind.
Someone had to have discovered you, though, right? You’re in a glass cube looking like a bug pinned to a board.
Bug, he said in disdain. First of all, they’re called insects. Second, I’m an arachnid and I will not be lumped together with all the other critters humans loath.
Such contempt, I taunted. You don’t like humans very much, do you?
I like you.
Easy there, buddy. It’ll never happen.
No? He drawled. Why not?
Aside from us being two different species? That’s enough of a deterrent, don’t you think?
Perhaps, he sighed. But not everything looks the way you see it.
Uh, yeah, okay, Riddler. So how did you wind up in a glass cube?
I’m not going to answer that.
My phone rang and MOM flashed across the screen. I groaned. I hated my phone conversations with her, but if I didn’t answer, she’d keep calling. And then she’d pester Anita to track me down. Easier to deal with it head on.
“Hi, Mom,” I greeted.
“Poppy! It’s been so long since I’ve heard your voice!”
“It’s been two weeks,” I reminded her. “How was your trip?”
“Good, good. Vince says hello.”
“Hello, Vince,” I said back.
“Oh, Poppy! Italy was magical. I can’t wait to show you the photos!”
“Hey, Mom. I’m actually on my way to class. Do you mind if I give you a call later this week?”
“Okay, kiddo,” she chirped. “Study hard!”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, Mom. Love you.”
“Love you!” She clicked off, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
How’s your mother?
You heard all that?
Yes.
Did you listen on purpose or did you think about giving me some privacy?
I heard her because you let me hear her.
What does that mean?
It means that you have to actively shut me out if you don’t want me to hear.
And how do I go about making that happen?
Like anything else. You have to practice. Though I’d prefer if you didn’t. Why does your mother try your patience?
She’s not an easy person to love. Can we leave it at that?
Afternoon wore on and we moved away from discussing my mom. It was going on four o’clock when I realized I needed to get back. Hunter and I had plans to meet at six and I hadn’t yet showered. Everything had been forgotten in the midst of this new development with Thane.
Thane the Spider.
&
nbsp; Why can I talk to you in a way I can’t talk to anyone else?
You tell me.
Maybe because you’re not real? And you’re just a figment of my very active imagination. There’s a good chance I’ve been sitting in this car, carrying on a silent conversation with myself.
Maybe, he agreed.
That’s not helpful, Thane.
Sorry, Poppy.
I put the car in reverse and drove back toward Charleston. The rain lightened, but that didn’t make me any less vigilant. Charlestonians freaked out at the smallest bit of rain.
Are you ever going to tell me how you got out of the lake?
I climbed out, he replied.
Right. Because that makes sense. You’re trapped in a cube, and your legs are wrapped around a black stone. How the hell could you climb out of the lake?
Magic.
You are infuriating!
I turned down Bull Street and found a parking spot across the street from my apartment. Skipping up the porch steps, I had my keys in hand. The apartment was quiet, and I was grateful. It was easier to dodge Anita than to explain.
The falsehoods were piling up. I felt sick every time I told one, but the lies were easier than the truth—a truth she wouldn’t be able to stomach. Anita was dramatic on a good day. Anything I shared with her about what was going on would just escalate the situation.
I entered my room and looked at Thane. He was in the same position as he’d been in when I’d left—I’d flipped the cube over so he was upright, his legs still clutching the stone.
Crouching, I peered into Thane’s unblinking eyes. Are you dead?
How could we talk if I were dead? Amusement crept into his tone.
Can you see me?
Of course.
Why can’t you move? Or blink?
I heard him sigh.
Fine. I’ll add that to the list of questions I’ll never get answers to.
You’ll get answers, he promised, just not when you want them or expect them.
Typical.
I’m going to go take a shower. I would appreciate it if when I come back, you close your little spider eyes—or do whatever you can not to look. Just give me some privacy.
I heard him laugh.
All right, Poppy. All right.
Feeling better that a spider wouldn’t be leering at me, I headed to the bathroom. I showered quickly and then I ducked back into my room just as I heard the key in the lock.
Anita was home.
