Now I just have to make sure she knows it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
‘Sam!’ I fly into the flat, slamming the door behind me. ‘Are you home? Samira?’
I pause to listen but there is only dead air in the rooms around me.
Dammit. I so wanted to burst in, all dramatic-like, and confess my undying love for my best friend. Her getting home after me feels so much more anti-climactic.
Maybe I’ll hide outside until she gets back? I turn back for the front door, and suddenly, something flies at my face. I catch the familiar evil flicker of stupid massive wings, and I scream, knowing what’s coming for me. It’s the fucking daddy long-legs. It takes another run up, dive-bombing for my head and I run away full pelt, shrieking like a woman possessed. I can feel its hot breath on my neck as I throw myself down the hallway, its spindly legs grabbing at me, ready to bite my head off.
For a split second, I almost give in and let him take me. My death would be quick and painful. It’ll be what I deserve. My life flashes before my eyes, and the image of my beloved Sam helps steel me. I can’t die at the hands of this insect before I’ve told her I’m sorry and I love her – and then made her say it back.
I throw myself at the bathroom door, slipping inside and pushing it shut behind me.
I breathe hard, telling myself over and over that it’s okay. I made it. I didn’t lose my head to a daddy long-legs. I’ve lost my head to other evil males before, but not this time.
And then I hear the front door open and close. She’s home.
‘Sam,’ I yell, and there is a moment of silence.
Maybe it isn’t her, maybe it was the daddy long-legs letting himself out?
‘Liv?’ her familiar voice calls back at last. ‘Where are you?’
‘In the loo,’ I yell. ‘I can’t come out because the daddy long-legs is back, but I need to speak to you! I talked to Edward today and it made me realise some stuff. I’m so sorry. I love you so much, you’re my best friend and I’m really, really sorry—’
‘Hold on,’ she shouts, ‘I only heard about half of that. Let me get the stupid daddy long-legs out first.’
There is a kerfuffle outside the door, along the hallway. I try to mentally follow Sam’s movements, picturing her face screwed up with focus, holding the insect catcher aloft. She’ll be stalking that bastard right now, rescuing me like my very own white knight. Here she is, riding in to save me—’
There is a loud shriek and then the door flies open. Samlunges inside, kicking the door shut behind her and landing butt first with a thud on the bathmat. She pants hard, frightened and trembly. I stare down at her. ‘Oh my god, did he try to eat you?’ I ask. ‘I knew those daddy long-legs were bad. You see? I told you! Should we ring 999?’
She shakes her head. ‘It’s not the daddy long-legs.’ Her lip quivers. ‘It’s a… ladybird.’ Her eyes are wide with horror and now mine are wide with confusion.
‘You’re frightened of… ladybirds? Ladybugs? Those tiny little red bugs with cute little spots on their backs?’
‘They’reevil,’ she hisses. ‘They bite and pinch! And they have a toxic liquid they release – from theirleg joints. Did you know that? What kind of messed up creature has toxic leg juice? And it’s calledreflex bleeding. Is that not the most horrible thing you’ve ever heard?’
‘How did I not know that you were terrified of ladybugs?’ I ask, bemused. I offer her a hand. She takes it, standing up.
‘Don’t you remember that was what we kept fighting over at nursery school?’ she says, and I snort.
‘Dude, we were, like, four.’
‘We had a big fall out in Year One about it, too,’ she points out. A hazy memory jogs. A tiny Sam screaming about a book – one with a giant ladybird on the front cover. Us fighting over it. Me crying at home about the fight and the mean girl who hid my book.
‘God,’ I say, ‘our origin story was so Elphaba and Glinda.’
‘I’m Elphaba!’ we say at the same time. I only wanted to beat her to it.
‘Either way, it hasn’t really come up much as an adult. There seemed to be an awful lot more ladybirds around when we were kids. And you don’t really get them inside much these days, so it doesn’t come up in conversation.’ She glances fearfully at the door. ‘Why is it in here? How did it get in?’
‘I bet the daddy long-legs brought him in with him,’ I say. ‘I told you they’re calculating bastards. He was probably sick of you always beating him and made this plan to finally defeat you, recruiting your one natural enemy.’
‘You think?’ She regards me with fear plain on her face and I nod. Then a thought occurs.
‘Um, did you get the daddy long-legs out before you ran away to hide in here?’
