The Spider Queen Page 2

  “Nope. Come on, I’m curious. Please show me.”

  Allowing him to see the spider sketch would be the fastest way to get him to leave me alone. Without further thought, I tossed the sketchbook onto the table and waited for him to flee.

  Chapter 2

  “You drew that?” he asked, sounding impressed.

  “Yeah.”

  “This is really cool.”

  I shook my head.

  “What?” he asked, looking up from the spider sketch. “It is cool.”

  “Yeah, I know it’s cool. I think it’s cool. You’re not supposed to think it’s cool.”

  He frowned in confusion. “I’m not?”

  “No. You’re supposed to think it’s weird and creepy—that I’m weird and creepy—and then you’re supposed to take your stuff and move over there.” I pointed to the farthest table away from mine. He looked where I pointed and then back at me, amusement stamped across his features.

  “Why am I supposed to think you’re weird and creepy?”

  “I just told you. I’m into spiders.”

  “Is that a real spider? Or one you drew from your imagination?”

  “It’s a cartwheeling spider that lives in the desert.”

  “Cool,” he said, pushing the sketchbook back in my direction. “That would be a sick tattoo.”

  I blinked. Maybe I wasn’t the only weird one at the table. “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Yeah, you like spiders. That’s awesome. Most girls aren’t into bugs.”

  “Spiders aren’t bugs. They’re arachnids.”

  “My bad.” He unzipped his backpack. “As fun as this conversation is, I do actually have to study.” He pulled out an organic chem book and flipped it open.

  “You’re pre-med?” I asked in surprise.

  He looked up at me and winked. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” He took the pencil from behind his ear and set it on the table. “You have plans tonight?”

  “Huh?”

  “Plans. It’s a Friday night, remember?”

  “Yeah, I have plans.”

  “You’re not lying are you, Spider Girl?”

  “Don’t call me that,” I hissed. “I have a name.”

  “Yeah?” he asked with glee. “What is it?”

  “Poppy,” I snapped.

  “Poppy, do you have plans tonight?”

  “Yes, Pre-Med, I have plans tonight.”

  “My name is Hunter,” he replied, blue eyes twinkling. “Thanks for asking.”

  I sighed.

  “Now, Poppy, please stop trying to engage me in conversation, I’m trying to study.”

  I put my ear bud into my ear and focused on my drawing. At first I had a hard time getting back into the groove of my sketch, distracted by the sight of Hunter’s bent blond head. But when it was clear he was actually studying, I lost myself again in the art. Before I knew it, I had completed the drawing of the spider and even whimsically drawn in a desert scene with dunes.

  “That looks awesome,” Hunter said.

  His voice startled me. My playlist had come to the end, and I’d never put it on repeat, so it was dead silent when he spoke. “Thanks,” I said, leaning back in the chair and stretching my arms over my head. I looked out the library window to see a dark sky. “Crap, what time is it?” I asked, touching the home screen of my phone. It was 7:15. Anita would kill me. I stood up from the table and shoved my belongings into my bag. I yanked the ear buds from my ear. “I have to go.”

  “Wait,” Hunter called. “I’ll walk out with you.”

  “No, it’s okay, I—”

  “It’s dark outside,” he said, gathering his possessions. He hoisted his backpack onto his strong shoulders, and I wondered if he was into sports. He was Anita’s type: cute and blond.

  “You don’t have to walk with me,” I said when we got outside of the library, the air cooler. “I have pepper spray.”

  “Then I’ll walk a few feet behind you so you’re not tempted to use it on me.”

  I finally gave in and laughed.

  “Ah ha, I succeeded.” He grinned. “Took you long enough.”

  “Anyone ever tell you that you come on really strong?”

  “All the time.”

  “You don’t think, maybe, you should do something about that? Or learn social cues?”

  “I’m aware of social cues,” he told me. “I just choose to ignore them.”

  I shook my head. “I’m this way. Down on Bull Street.”

  “Cool, I’m on Ashley.” We headed in the direction of both our houses, and I had to admit, it was nice to have someone to walk with, even if it was a guy who had more ego than sense. He was playful—and that wasn’t something I was used to.

  “So, Spider Girl, aside from spiders, what are you into?”

  “That’s pretty much it,” I admitted. “I spend a lot of my time studying. You?”

  “I’m on the soccer team.”

  “Nailed it,” I muttered.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Are you into sports?”

  “No.”

  “Drinking?” he asked.

  “Not really.”

  “Parties?”

  I shook my head and stopped on the sidewalk. “This is me.” I gestured to the pink house behind me. Anita and I lived on the first floor of a converted antebellum home. The slanted floors caused things with wheels to roll, but it was close to campus and we liked it because of its character.

  Hunter smiled and put his hands in his jean pockets. “I know you said you had other plans, but on the off chance they fall through or you’re not feeling it, my roommates and I are having a party. Fifteen Ashley. Blue house. Third floor. We’ve got a balcony. And we’re getting a keg of PBR.”

  “You really go all out, huh?” I said with a smile. I skipped up the porch steps. “Thanks for walking me home!”

  “Thanks for not using your pepper spray on me!” he called back.

  I laughed. “I don’t have pepper spray.”

  Chapter 3

  “You’re late,” Anita yelled at me the moment I walked into the apartment.

  I set my bag down and kicked off my gray ASICS. “The party is at nine. How many hours do you think I need to get ready?”

  “Well, you need at least an hour to shower, blow dry your hair, put on makeup, put in your contacts, pick out—”

  “Hold on,” I interrupted. “Who said anything about contacts?”

  “You can’t wear glasses to a Frat party.”

  I somehow held back an eye roll. “Why not?”

  “Because the boys will know you’re smart.”

  “You’re smart. I mean, not right now, you’re not acting smart, but you are.”

  “Of course I’m smart. It’s always better to be smart. But I’m not broadcasting it. Not upfront.”

  “Oh, I see, you reel them in with your looks and then clobber them with your big ole brain.”

  She snapped her fingers and grinned. “Exactly.”

  “Okay, but there’s a huge difference between us and that involves at least two cup sizes.”

  “True. But you have a great ass. I’d kill for your ass.”

  I looked over my shoulder, trying to see my behind. “Really?”

  “Really. And your hair is gorgeous.”

  “It’s brown.”

  “It’s shiny and healthy and long, and you wear it in a ponytail all the time.”

  “It gets in my way,” I muttered.

  “And you have green eyes. Like, moss green. No one has green eyes.”

  “Two percent of the world’s population has green eyes.”

  “Whatever.” She huffed out a breath of air. “Your eyes are one of your best features, but you can’t see them behind your glasses.”

  “I’m not falling for any of this, you know. I’m wearing my glasses,” I said. “I want to be comfortable.”

  “No tennis shoes.”

  “No heels
,” I shot back.

  “No hoodie.”

  “It’s forty degrees outside!”

  “No. Hoodie.”

  I glared. “I like the way I look, Anita. Why are you trying to change me?”

  Her stance softened. “I’m not trying to change you. I’m just trying to give you a little…polish.”

  Anita always looked impeccable. She had her honey blond hair cut and styled every six weeks, she wore mascara to the gym, her clothes emphasized her amazing curves, and yet she never looked like she tried too hard. I loved that about her.

  “I don’t want to be self-conscious,” I mumbled. “I’ll already be out of my element.” I wondered what would happen if I snuck away from the frat party and headed to Hunter’s house. It had been nice to meet someone who hadn’t seemed intimidated by my interests. The guy was pre-med, so smart women obviously didn’t scare him.

  “Hello? Poppy?” Anita waved a hand in front of my face. “You still with me?”

  “With you,” I replied. “You want the shower first?”

  “Sure. Go into your room. I already laid out three outfits for you to choose from. You’re bound to like one of them.”

  Before I could reply, the bathroom door closed. Sighing, I headed to my white, sparse room. I hated clutter and distraction. Anita’s walls were covered in magazine collages.

  Hard to believe we shared DNA.

  I discarded the dress and skirt options. But I liked the third outfit she’d chosen for me. Skinny jeans and a black sweater. Red ballet flats that belonged to her.

  Well played, manipulative cousin, well played.

  We were out the door at a quarter after nine. My hair was in a sleek ponytail, and I wore my glasses. I felt surprisingly comfortable. At the last minute, I added my light bubble coat. If I got hot, I could take it off. But knowing me, I’d be cold.

  Anita looked like a glamorous, untouchable goddess. Her long, blond hair was down and wavy, her makeup was demure, and her red dress was classy but seductive.

  “Whoever this guy is,” I said, locking up our house, “won’t stand a chance.”

  “That’s the hope,” she said with a red grin. She must’ve been distracted by thoughts of him because she said nothing about my non-stylish jacket.

  I turned toward the row of pastel-colored houses that were mockingly called “Frat Row.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Frat houses are that way,” I stated, pointing.

  “Party is this way,” Anita said, gesturing to the opposite direction. “It’s not happening at the Sig Ep house.”

  “So tell me about this guy,” I said.

  She linked her arm through mine and we walked. “He’s hot.”

  “Obviously.”

  “His name is Jonah. He’s a starting forward on the varsity soccer team.”

  “Nice. How did you guys meet?”

  She laughed. “We haven’t.”

  “What?” I dropped my arm from hers and halted. “You’ve never met him?”

  “I’m about to.” She tugged my hand to get me moving, but I remained still.

  “What is it you expect me to do?”

  “Run interference for me,” she replied. “Engage his friends in conversation. I just need fifteen minutes with him.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Fifteen minutes? That’s all it’ll take to ensnare him in your web?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Ensnare? Web? I’m not trapping him. Can we please get going? I don’t want to get there and have him already tanked.”

  “He sounds like a winner.”

  “Poppy—”

  “Best behavior, promise.”

  “Just hold in the sarcasm, if you can.”

  “That’s like asking me to hold my breath for five minutes.”

  “Just remember you love me and you want me happy.”

  “How is this guy going to make you happy?” I demanded. “You don’t even know him.”

  “That’s why we’re going to the party. So I can get to know him.”

  “Unless he’s already drunk,” I pointed out.

  “God, can you really be that cynical?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  We fell silent for a few minutes, but then Anita started up again. “If you would just give someone a chance, you might find—”

  “No. I’m doing this for you.” I threw her a smile. “See? Best face forward.”

  We trekked a few more blocks and turned the corner onto Ashley Avenue. I frowned. “What’s the address of this house party?”

  “Don’t remember. Blue house. Third floor.”

  The back of my neck prickled, but I held in my reservations. There was no way… “Fifteen Ashley Avenue,” I murmured when we arrived at a blue house with a third floor balcony.

  “Come on,” Anita exclaimed, gripping my hand in excitement and hauling me to the door of the side porch. She flew up the flight of stairs, not even her heels slowing her down.

  The third-floor balcony was congested with partiers holding red plastic cups. Somewhere inside the house, music blasted. Despite the cooler temperatures, girls were in tank tops and some of the guys were even in khaki shorts. Wishful thinking that spring would make an early appearance.

  “Come on, let’s find the keg,” Anita said.

  I trailed behind her, discreetly looking for Hunter. Part of me wanted to see him again—the stupid, hopeful part of me I could never manage to kill no matter how much I wanted to. The other part of me—the rational part of me—knocked my subconscious upside the head with the reminder that he’d probably disappoint me. Just like my dad had disappointed my mom for the entirety of their fifteen-year marriage.

  The keg was at the end of the balcony and a few guys flanked it. One held a sleeve of red cups, another had his hand on the spout.

  Anita flashed a brilliant smile. “Two cups please.”

  “Five bucks,” the dark-haired guy with his hand on the spout said. He glanced from me to Anita. “Each.”

  Anita opened her mouth to protest or flirt, I wasn’t sure which, when a voice behind me said, “It’s cool, guys. They’re with me.”

  I turned to find Hunter leaning against the balcony rail, red cup in his hand, a wide grin on his face.

  “Thank you,” Anita said as she innocently batted her eyelashes at him.

  “Yeah. Thanks, Hunter.”

  “You know him?” Anita asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “We met at the library this afternoon,” Hunter answered.

  “Intriguing,” she said, her eyes darting to mine.

  I shrugged. There was nothing to tell.

  “One beer please,” Anita said, turning back to the boys at the keg.

  “None for me, thanks,” I told them.

  “You want something else to drink?” Hunter asked. “There’s some soda inside.”

  “Thanks, but I’m good.”

  “She’ll have a Gingerale,” Anita interjected.

  “Anita, stop.”

  “When a cute boy offers you a drink, you take it.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed. She was destined to embarrass me.

  “She’s right,” Hunter said with a grin. “I am cute.”

  His comment made Anita laugh and despite myself, so did I. “Really working on those social cues, huh?”

  “Nope.” Hunter smiled at me. “So you made it. Didn’t think you would.”

  “Ah,” I said with a sheepish smile. “These were the plans for the evening. I wasn’t lying. Anita wanted to come. I had no idea it was the same party.”

  “You’re adorable when you’re nervous,” he teased.

  “Shut up.” I lightly shoved him, but he was six inches taller than me and didn’t budge.

  His face sobered. “Glad you came, Spider Girl.”

  “Spider Girl? Why does he call you that?” Anita pressed, watching our exchange with obvious fascination.

  “She showed me her sketch.” />
  Anita looked at me. “Sketch? What sketch?”

  “Ah—”

  “Her spider sketch,” Hunter interrupted. “It was pretty cool.”

  Anita smiled.

  “Hunter lives here,” I blurted out, wanting to get all the attention off me.

  “You live with Jonah?” Anita asked with interest.

  “Yeah.”

  “Can you introduce us?”

  “Depends,” he said.

  “On?”

  “If you can get Poppy to hang out with me during the party, I’ll introduce you to Jonah.”

  Anita begged me with her eyes.

  “Okay,” I said with a sigh.

  “Yay! Okay, Hunter, let’s go!”

  We followed Hunter through the throng of people on the balcony into the apartment. It was more spacious than it looked, but it was loud and crowded. And there was a haze of smoke in the air. I coughed.

  Hunter halted; Anita and I almost plowed into his back. “Fucking smokers,” he griped. He shot me a look. “Sorry.”

  I waved away his apology and then gestured for him to keep moving.

  “He’s over there,” Hunter stated to Anita. “Crap. He’s talking to another girl.”

  “That’s okay,” Anita said, tossing long, blond hair over her shoulder. She winked at me. “I got this.”

  “Should I introduce—”

  “Nah,” she said, beginning to dance.

  Hunter and I both stood by while Anita moved to the music, getting lost in the rhythm of it. She inched her way closer to Jonah and the girl he was talking to.

  “What’s she going to—” Hunter cut himself off when he saw Anita stumble and fall. Luckily, she was within arm’s reach of Jonah who caught her. She let out a breathless chuckle as their eyes met and held.

  “Dude is toast.” Hunter grinned. Looking down at me, he said, “Will you keep your word and hang out with me tonight?”

  “Okay,” I replied. “But can we go back outside? The smoke is killing me.”

  “Sure thing.” He took my hand and led me back through the party. My skin zinged from his touch and when he laced his fingers through mine, I had to stop myself from hyperventilating.

  “Hey, Hunter,” a beautiful redhead greeted, moving in front of Hunter, making him halt.

  “Hey, Kim,” he said. “Do you know Poppy?”

  Kim’s eyes slid to me and then dropped to our held hands. She sighed in disappointment. “Nice to meet you.”