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Alvin blinked. The cafeteria went quiet around us in that special way cafeterias did when teenagers got a whiff of adult drama in the air.
Alvin placed a dramatic hand to his chest. “That sounded aggressive, DeeDee.”
“It wasn’t.” I sighed.
“Disappointing.”
“Just… shut up and come on.” I waved a hand in front of us and Alvin followed me out of the chow hall, skipping like he’d won something. I ignored him all the way to the rec room.
The building was empty except for the old vending machine in the corner that still had colas listed that didn’t exist anymore. I crossed to the storage cabinet near the windows and unlocked it.
Alvin leaned against the door, watching me. “If there’s a dead body in there, I’m going to be incredibly smug.”
“There’s no dead body, shithead.”
“A live one?”
“Shut up and come here.”
He did, though he kept glancing into the cabinet like he expected a corpse to fall out. I reached behind a stack of board games and pulled down the terrarium.
It was small. Clear plastic, with a ventilated lid and a layer of soil across the bottom. I’d added a piece of bark, a fake plant, and a tiny plastic skull I found with the craft supplies because Alvin always insisted that every spider deserved “a tasteful haunted mansion.”
I set the container on the table. Alvin stared at it. For once, he didn’t say anything. A dark shape moved beneath the bark.
His eyes widened. “Is that—”
“Yeah.”
“You got me a spider?”
“I didn’t get you a spider. I caught you a spider.”
He moved closer while trying not to look too excited. “You…” He pointed a finger in my direction before turning it on the makeshift cage. “Caught a spider.”
“That’s what I just said.”
“With your hands?”
I glared at him, and he glared right back at me. “Why do you make it sound so impossible?” I grunted.
“Because you hate bugs.”
“I hate bugs less than I hate you asking me a bunch of stupid questions.”
He tilted his head to one side and continued to eye me suspiciously. “Darius.”
“No, I did not use my hands. I used a plastic cup, a piece of cardboard, and several increasingly desperate attempts at not screaming.”
A grin spread across his face. “You screamed?”
“I did not scream,” I insisted.
“You absolutely screamed.”
“I made a controlled vocalization when one of them moved… unexpectedly,” I corrected him.
“Was it high-pitched?”
