Lover Angel Spider

PART 1

JAYCE

Chapter 1

Charlotte, Sometimes

You’re with Gemi now, coming to you from The Ethereal Studio playing songs that touch the bruise. And when you’re touched in a place like that, naturally you want to touch back. This isn’t a show about healing. No, my dark gems. This is all about the ache. Nothing cures heartbreak like another heartbreak. And speaking of The Cure, how about “Charlotte Sometimes” with a special death day wish for all the Charlottes out there?

Remember. We all choose our own darkness. You’re listening to DARK WAVE where the darkest hearts find the deepest love.

“Okay, like, the most romantic marriage proposal ever?” I ask my date. Well, not a “date” exactly. . .

We walk off the path together. Spencer sweeps his flashlight over the rows of tombstones.

I love the smell of a graveyard after the rain. The perfume of flowers and heathers on old stone. Wet grass beneath the willows.

It’s not something most people would notice under the circumstances, but it’s there, ripe for the scented candle industry. Considering that Gwenth Paltrow vagina smelling candle, not the craziest idea, I’d say.

I’ve got Spencer’s full attention—most of it anyway. He’s playing it cool. His left hand dangles loose by his belt, fingers tapping his clipped walkie talkie as we stroll through the Echo Falls Cemetery.

I can tell he wants to hold mine, and I wouldn’t mind, except I’m standing to his right and my left wrist is still in this stupid brace that I made several useless attempts to match with my dress tonight.

What am I supposed to do? Break out in the Electric Slide and switch sides with him?

Or, I suppose I could just ask him to hold my hand, but I want to be handled. Delicately. Like, fine jewelry. And besides—a girl can’t make it too easy.

“Never mind,” I say. “Stupid subject. I’ll shut up now.”

“No, Jayce, I want to hear.” He turns his light towards me at a downward angle. “I’m enjoying the company. I didn’t think you were serious when you said you wanted to join me on my rounds tonight.”

We mosey past several plots.

“I suppose we could have gone the traditional route of dinner and Starbucks, but I don’t know. This seemed way cooler. Besides,” I bump shoulders with him. “Since you’re on the clock, you can’t skip out early on me.”

He raises a brow. “Like, that’s happened to you?”

“Yes. My senior prom date, actually. Ditched me right in the middle of fondue at The Melting Pot. Two years later and melted cheese sauce still triggers me.”

He clicks off the flashlight and holsters it. “All right. Hit me. Most romantic proposal ever?”

“Put it on your tombstone,” I gush, as he cocks his head.

I gesture like I’m delivering a Ted Talk. “Think about it. The very last thing you put into the world etched in granite outlasting your rotting corpse.”

Our footsteps crunch over leaves.

He adjusts his cap with the monogrammed Sentinel Security logo. “When I met you on campus, you didn’t seem so gothic.”

“I’m closeted—a goth, I mean.” I say, cheeks warming.

We approach a large monument, its surface worn with patches of lichen creeping along the edges. Etched into the granite, are the words GORMAN 1875-1925.

We stare at it, if for no other reason than the sheer scale, but the silence is getting awkward and we need an ice breaker.

“Hey, take my picture,” I pose in front, head in profile, hands, vogue, like I’m starting some InstanZ trend. “I’ll post it on my account.”

“Okay,” he smiles sheepishly, and snaps a few.

He still seems a little distant.

“Hey Spencer,” I say, disco pointing up and down while swinging my hips from side to side. “What song is this?”

He snaps another pic. “‘Stayin’Alive?’ Saturday Night Fever?”

“Yes!” I shout, overly excited.

He isn’t laughing.

“What,” I gesture to the epitaph behind me. “Too soon? The guy died a hundred years ago.”

“No, it’s great, Jayce. You’re like no one I’ve ever met.”

I tuck my hair behind my ears and chuckle. “What do you mean?”

He steps closer. “I mean, for a hot girl you’re like, not afraid to just be yourself. It’s kind of refreshing.”

I wrap my arms in front of me as he inches closer. “You think I’m—hot?” I ask, the eye contact between us intensifying. Starved for romance, I’d subsisted for days on almonds and cottage cheese. It’s nice that he took notice.

“And funny . . .” he takes my hands gently pulling them down. “. . .and a surprisingly good disco dancer.”

“Ha. Well, I’m no John Travolt—” Oh my god. He’s kissing me. Kiss him back, I tell myself as his hands press against my waist, pulling me closer. His tongue touches mine and I involuntarily flinch—

He stops.

It’s not that I don’t want this, it’s that I don’t know how to want this.

Spencer retreats. “That bad, huh?” he says softly.

“Spencer, I—” I’m a bouncing ball of nerves. “I’m sorry. We can try again if you want to.” I hate how pathetic I sound, like a dog begging for another chance to fetch a missed ball.

He backs away, closing his hands around my stiff shoulders. “Maybe off the clock next time? And somewhere a little more romantic.”

“Yeah,” I say, knowing that the setting isn’t the problem.

I am.

I cover my face with my hands, wishing they were a brown paper bag.

I’ve had better make-out sessions with my pillows.

Just leave me here in the graveyard.

I want to die.

I’ve never been so relieved to see my own driveway. I turn on my Z Phone. Spencer sent me the pics of me making a fool myself at the monument. There’s also a missed call from my mom and several texts from Faye— Hey call me asap

I text Spencer instead.

—Thanks again for letting me tag along. I promise it wasn’t the worst “date” I’ve ever been on

Three little dots move at the bottom of the screen.

—Me neither. Good night, Jayce

No—hey what are you doing this weekend? Or even some sexual sports analogy, like, we made it to first base. Maybe we can knock it out of the park next time?

I blew it.

I shuffle to my front door, bent over and shoulders slumped, feeling about as sexy as Quasimodo.

My mom greets me in the foyer. She looks anxious as she delivers her usual hug.

“What’s up? Is everything all right?” I ask.

“I’m just glad you’re home safe. Faye’s here.” We move into the living room.

Faye stands, dressed in baggy jeans and a NHU hoodie. “Hey, bae. I tried to call. Campus is locked down. A student was murdered in the laundromat on College Street. There’s a manhunt. My roomie and I were out on a grocery run when the alert hit, so we came here.”

I shake my head, trying to orient myself to what the hell is happening. “Sorry, I had my phone off—”

On my couch sits the most beautiful woman—I have ever seen in my entire life. Long ebony hair and dark eyes to match. Fair skin that somehow glows. Lips as red as a wound. Black tank top and fitted jeans.

The floor just dropped out from under me. I’m forgetting to breathe.

“This is your roommate?” I choke out, unable to tear my eyes away. I can’t believe she’s real, or in my house, or that I’m completely spellbound by this gorgeous creature.

She watches me, hands on her knees, mouth parted, head slightly bowed.

“I’m Arachne,” she says, getting to her feet, wiping her palms on her hips. “Sorry for the intrusion.”

God. Her accent. European. A voice that could curl smoke.

“Jayce!” I say in a voice two octaves above normal, like I’m hitting puberty again, which I’ve no doubt that’s even possible now. I jut out my hand—the wrong one—for a handshake.

“Your hand is broken,” Arachne says, deadpan.

“This?” I force a laugh. “Just a little fracture. Character development.”

She pulls a buzzing phone from her backpocket. “My ride’s outside. Nice to meet you, Jayce.” She turns to my mom. “Thanks again, Samantha.”

“Anytime.”

“Wait,” I reach for her, but stop myself from actually touching her. “You’re leaving? Now? I barely got to know us—you, I meant. Will I see you again?”

Faye ping pongs their wide-eyed gaze between me and her lovely roommate.

“Uh,” Arachne stammers. “Around campus, perhaps.”

Perhaps. Like a one word prayer in reverse. Perhaps. Perhaps.

“I’m in and out of the dorms.” She glances at her screen. “I won’t be spending most nights there.”

“Where do you stay?” I ask.

“My lover’s mostly.”

I nearly seize at the word. My mom has a hand to her clavicle.

“Bye, Faye,” Arachne turns to Faye, giving them a cheek-to-cheek air kiss.

“Goodbye,” Arachne tells me, not giving me one of those special air kisses.

I make a shooting gesture with my good hand. “Back at ya.” What the hell am I thinking?

Even my mom gets a quick hug.

Arachne’s black boots drum across the linoleum, and then she’s gone. Poof.

Like a magic trick.

Chapter 2

Still in Still

I grab Faye’s sleeve and pull them up to my room.

“What was that?” Faye says in a sly voice. “Were you crushing on Arachne?”

“Try wrecking ball,” I say, pacing the carpet. “How on earth is she your dorm mate? And how am I just finding this out now?”

Faye sits on the side of my bed, teeth flashing. “The semester has barely started, and like she said, she’s with her boyfriend or something most nights.”

I place a finger to my jugular. My pulse is still sprinting.

Faye waves their arms. “She’s super hot, but hold up. Are you into girls now?”

I lean against my dresser undoing my brace. “All I can tell you is that the earth shifted, and that was just from being in the same room as her! I didn’t feel a fraction of that when Spencer and I kissed—”

“You guys kissed?”

I pull the brace off and wriggle my hand. “Uh huh.”

“How was it?” Faye asks.

“Bleh,” I answer, sticking my finger down my throat.

They frown. “Bad kisser?”

“Yeah—me as it turns out!” I pull off my flats. “I couldn’t move.”

“We used to make out in eighth grade and I don’t remember you being a bad kisser then.”

Panic sets in as I realize my door is wide open. I throw Faye a hard gaze, shutting my door. “Jesus, Faye. My mom is right outside.”

“I’m sorry.” they whisper palms joined.

“No, it’s fine,” I run a hand across my scalp. “I mean, you know about my Charli XCX crush, but she’s like a celebrity. May as well not even be real. Arachne? I just want to pet her—with my whole body. That hair, and that skin, and her tight little jeans. Oh my god.”

Faye stifles a laugh. “I love you, bae. Do you want me to put in a good word?”

“No. I mean, clearly she’s straight—right? What does your gaydar say?”

“I build the planes. I don’t land them.” They toss up their chin. “Honestly with her though? Totally fuckin’ mystery. You should ask her out. See where it goes.”

I blow raspberries. “Okay, well, maybe I’m just gay for her. Not like a full blown rainbow, just a bowl of Lucky Charms.”

“The marshmallows are the best part.”

I press the back of my head against the wall. “Enough gay metaphors for one night. You know, Layne’s wedding is coming up?”

“Uh huh.”

“I’ve been pressuring myself to bring a date. I had pictured myself with a guy, but wouldn’t that be insane to bring another girl to my sister’s ‘perfect day’?”

“It would be pretty hot.”

“I bet Arachne would look so good in a formal dress. Or a suit.” I scream into my hands and slide to the floor. “I don’t know. I’m too afraid to ask her out. I don’t want to make things awkward. Maybe we all could just hang out.”

“Okay,” Faye says, lighting up. “There’s the new nightclub, V. She mentioned she works there. Maybe we can show up and chill with her after her shift.”

Of course she would work at a cool place like that. “Damn. I’m three weeks shy of turning twenty one.”

“She could probably slide us in.”

“I hate to put her on the spot,” I say.

“She might show up at the NHU Fall Ball tomorrow. Throw on something fire and come through, if they don’t end up canceling it.”

I let out a huge breath. “Right. Shit, I nearly forgot the fact that there’s a dead student. Anyone we know?”

Faye reads their phone. “‘Police identified the victim as twenty year old New Hampshire University student, Charlotte Kite.’”

The name doesn’t ring a bell. “My mom’s not gonna be thrilled I’m out there partying with a murderer loose around the college campus.”

“It’s chill,” Faye says. “I’m sure they’ll be police and tons of security. Unless you’re scared?”

“Nah,” I toss my hand. “We’ll stick together, watch each other’s backs, and not wander off with any strange dudes. Fate beckons. What could possibly go wrong?”

Chapter 3

Why Can’t I Be You?

Faye’s waiting for me in the lobby of the NHU event.

“You look amazing,” I gush as they strike a pose wearing a crepe wide mid-rise trouser and a bell-sleeve satin top.

“I love this color on you.” They pinch the baby blue fabric of my bubble-hem dress, a favorite of mine because of how it hides my figure.

We take some selfies and head to the main ballroom.

“Sooo, did Arachne say she was coming to this?” I ask, trying to sound casual. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head.

“Not sure. I haven’t seen her since last night.” Faye gives my elbow a light tap. “Besides Arachne, anyone here you’d want to stick your tongue into?”

“Well, when you put it like that.” Despite the abundance of beautiful people here, no one lights up my brain.

Two pretty girls approach and say hi.

Faye introduces us. “Jayce, these are my dorm mates Amber and Dixie.”

“Hey. Nice to meet you. What year are you?” Amber asks.

“Sophomore. And you two?”

“Seniors, same as Faye.” Dixie answers. “We’re so ready to be done.”

“Ha. I’ll bet.”

“So, how do you two know each other?” Amber wags a finger between Faye and I.

Faye slings an arm around my shoulders. “We’ve been ride-or-die since Girl Scouts.”

“Has Faye always looked so snatched?” Amber’s loud voice cuts through the festive noise. “I’m lowkey trying to get them to model for my photography class.”

“Actually, they used to be a total recluse,” I say, inching closer to talk. “We once had a brooding contest in middle school. They won.”

Amber and Dixie erupt in laughter.

“Oh, my god. You are so sending me right now!” Amber places a friendly hand on my arm, making me feel like one of the gang despite the age gap.

A rather handsome campus police officer walks by and nods at us.

Amber grins. “Well, I feel a lot safer tonight with Officer Hottie protecting us.”

I force a laugh. “Yeah. Hey, have you guys heard anything else about that murder?”

Dixie takes a step towards us. “I intern at The Gazette. A source is saying the killer left a tear-stained love note near the body. They’re calling him The Crying Killer.”

“Spooky,” Fayes says.

“Whoa,” I gasp, running my fingers across my lips. I can picture it vividly, a splayed half-dressed body lying in a spreading pool of her own blood, a knife through her heart as the killer kneels beside her, his tears raining down as he professes love and gently places a handwritten letter on parchment near her twitching body. “That is so. . .cool.”

Amber and Dixie trade shocked glances.

Faye looks at me curiously.

“‘Cool?’” Dixie echoes, her chin dropping but eyes staying on me. “Charlotte Kite was my La Crosse teammate.”

My throat constricts from the foot I just stuck in my mouth. “I–-I mean. . .”

Amber impales me with a sharp look. “A girl is dead. What is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry,” I blurt, sweat beading on my forehead.

“Amber rolls her eyes. “We’re gonna bounce. Faye, kisses. I’ll text you about that photo shoot.”

They strut away, gossiping.

“Faye, I’m so sorry,” I whimper.

Faye bursts into laughter and soothes me with a gentle backrub. “Don’t worry about it. Those girls are so basic anyway. Some people have no sense of humor.”

“Thank you,” I throw my arms around them, awash with relief.

We make our way through the throng and get close to the stage, twirling our cares away to rockabilly covers of eighties music.

The dance floor thins out as a long line forms at the Diwali-themed food station. The fried Samosas, breads, and curry sauces smell delicious, and my empty belly is sending out an S.O.S.

“I’m starving,” Faye groans.

“Um, yeah.” We walk off the dance floor. The number of the bathroom scale that I regrettably stepped on while getting ready flashes through my mind. “You know what? I’m not that hungry.”

“Really?”

I pat my curvy belly. “It’s a stomach thing. I’ll spare you the gory details. You go.”

“If you’re sure,” Faye smirks. “I’ll meet you here in a few.”

I wave Faye away and wander to a nearby table with a water dispenser.

Then Arachne walks in. Alone.