The only things I’m aware of are my irritation with my stepfather for his rules and the hopeless desperation that comes with facing the end of another friendship.
Not that Holt and I areanywhereclose to what Abby Nora and I were.
But I was finally risking getting close to someone as a friend, anewfriend—an attractive friend, let’s be honest here—and I can’t have him either.
He won’t stay. He won’t be my friend.
Because Roland doesn’t want him to be.
In the immortal words of every teenager to ever live, it’s not fair.
That’s what I’m thinking as I pull the shower curtain back, step inside, and come face-to-face with a big, ugly, too-many-legged spider dangling in the air.
“Aaahhhhh!”
It swings from the ceiling, swaying in the mist coming off of the faucet, getting closer to my face as I scramble to get back out of the tub and away from its creepy round body and weird-ass bitey mouth and the sticky web.
I hate spiders.
Hatespiders.
Know what I loved about the ship?
No spiders.
“Ziggy.”
“Aaahh!” I screech again.
I’m naked.
Completely, totally buck naked in front of a spider and now in front of Holt.
I yank blindly for anything to cover myself with, find the shower curtain, and spin inside of it.
There’s brief tension, then aclink!as the curtain rod gives way and clatters into the tub.
The spider.
Where is the spider?
Is it still in the tub? Is it on the shower curtain? Did it crawl up to its little secret lair in the ceiling?
Why does my body itch?
Is it on me?
Holt’s scanning my body, then the bathroom. “What? What’s wrong? Is it a mouse? Fucking mice. I took care of the mice last year.”
“Spider,” I gasp.
I’m turning in circles without enough room to turn in circles, looking for the spider, pulling the curtain and the rod with me.
It’s not hanging from the ceiling anymore.
Where the fuck did it go?
Is it in my hair?
