Page 73 of Cackle

“Fair,” he says. “I don’t want this to change anything. She knows that we’re close and that you’re a part of my life. As friends. She’s good with it.”

“Good,” I say. “I’m glad she approves.”

“Annie, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?” I ask.

“All right,” he says. “I reached out as a courtesy.”

“A courtesy? A courtesy! Wow,” I say. “Should I send a picture of you in to the National Enquirer? ‘Good guys! They do exist!’ ”

“Why are you being so sarcastic?” he asks.

“I’m sarcastic. Did you forget this fun fact about me?”

“You’re never sarcastic to me,” he says. “We were always nice to each other. Always.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s hard to be nice right now. I’m sorry.”

There’s a faint sensation on my hand. It’s a spider. A big one. Big enough that I can see its individual eyes. So many of them, all looking up at me.

All of a sudden, it rears back. It lifts one of its front legs and waves it back and forth. It’s also shaking its head.

It does not approve of my apology.

“That’s okay,” Sam says. “It’s a weird situation. It’s hard. I just thought you should hear it from me. Now you know.”

“Now I know.”

The spider plops back down on all of its legs. It’s still shaking its head.

I wonder if it’s Sophie. I wonder if she can see what the spiders see. She’ll be so mad if she finds out that I called Sam. So disappointed. I can’t tell her. I can’t face her.

I move my hand over to the coffee table and gently wiggle the spider off. It crosses its front legs and turns its back to me to signal its discontent.

“Nothing’s changed,” Sam says. “We’re still friends.”

“Nothing’s changed,” I echo. How dense can he be?

Or is it me? Am I the one who’s being unreasonable? We have been broken up for about six months. How did I not anticipate this? It actually never crossed my mind that he would move on. That he would really go on to date someone else. To fuck someone else. To get a new girlfriend.

I guess I was operating on the phantom hope that we might get back together.

I stare at the picture. I can’t really see Shannon’s face; she’s in profile. She looks cute. Pretty. Beautiful even. Maybe.

I wish that I could prick my finger and fall into a long deep sleep, and that when I woke up, there’d be a hot guy there at my bedside totally enamored with me.

The spider begins to pace on the table. I don’t know what it wants from me.

“All right, Annie, I’ll let you go,” Sam says. “We’ll talk soon. I want to hear more about life in Rowan.”

“Sure.”

“All right. I am sorry, Annie. I am.”

“Okay. Bye, Sam.”

“Bye.”