Page 4 of The Spider Queen
I loved it when the library was deserted; it meant I could spread out at one of the long, polished wood tables and not have to worry about taking up too much space. And I had my choice in seats. I chose a table by one of the large windows and set my book bag down.
My paper was due the following week and though I’d already written it, I liked to let it sit. Nothing I hated more than being pressed for time and feeling like I hadn’t done my best work. After I read through it a few times and made minor changes, I put it away. I wasn’t ready to go home yet, so I pulled out my sketchbook, plugged in my ear buds, and turned on a Classical music playlist.
I flipped open to a fresh page in my sketchbook and a few minutes later, I had a decent outline of the cartwheeling spider I’d shown Anita.
A navy blue backpack slid across the table, startling me into a jump. I looked up and glared at the impolite intruder.
“Sorry.” The cute guy apologized with a sheepish smile.
My gaze dropped back down to my sketchbook, but my hand stilled. There were ten other tables, most of them unoccupied, and this guy had to sit down at mine. I tried to ignore him, but the wiry, blond invader made it impossible. Not only was he taking forever to get settled, but when he finally did sit, his left leg bounced in rapid succession.
“Do you mind?” I asked, yanking out one of my ear buds. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Who’s stopping you?” he asked with a teasing grin. He shoved a pencil behind his ear and flipped open his binder, letting it hit the table with a thud.
“You. This is a library. Try being quiet—and still.”
“Sorry, I have a lot of energy. I drank three Red Bulls before I got here.” His smile was light, his tone friendly.
“Explains the inability to sit still,” I said. “Why are you at the library on a Friday afternoon?”
“Why are you?” he countered, his eyes trying to get a look at my sketchbook.
I covered it with my hands. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was working on a paper.”
“That doesn’t look like a paper.”
“I alreadywrotethe paper. This is something else.”
“Art class homework?”
“No.” I bent my head and pretended to get back to sketching, but I could still see him out of the corner of my eye. His fingers wandered across the table toward my drawing. I slid the sketchbook into my lap and glared at him.
He grinned.
“Do you have any sense of personal space?”
“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. “Itiscool.”
“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.
