Page 4 of The Spider & the Storm

Dad didn’t say anything right away. I wondered if he was angry. I wondered if he was going to yell at Mom.

But then, “What about Luke?”

“He’s fine in school. He gets decent grades, and he has some good friends,” she replied, sounding sure and determined. “But if we’re going to give Charlie the best chance of making it in this world, I think the best thing is to get him the hell out of there. I’ll find some books on helping him to manage his anxiety. If that doesn’t work, maybe we’ll find a better doctor, one who doesn’t immediately jump to medication. But for now, we’ll take him out of school.”

“Okay,” Dad said without a moment of hesitation. “He won’t go back to school.”

Luke shook his head, one corner of his mouth curling into a smirk as he whispered, “You’re such a lucky butthead.”

***

The next day, Luke went to school, but I didn’t. Instead, Mom said we had to run a few errands and told me to get dressed. Then, we got into the car, and we went to McDonald’s for breakfast. That was where she asked if I’d heard what she and Dad talked about, and since I never liked to lie, I told her I had.

“So, you know why you didn’t go to school today?”

I nodded, keeping my eyes on my hash browns and hot cakes.

“Are you okay with that? Because, Charlie, if you would rather go back to school, then that’s okay. We’ll figure it out. But if you want to—”

“I hate that school,” I admitted.

But she knew that already. She had to. Hadn’t I cried enough times before getting on the bus? Hadn’t I begged her enough to keep me home and tell my teacher I was sick?

Mom took a deep breath and said, “Okay. Okay, so after we eat, we’re going to the teacher supply store, and there, we’ll find some workbooks, and … we’ll figure this out, Charlie. Okay? You and me, we’ll figure this out together.”

I thought about what Luke had said as I finished my breakfast and then went on a trip to the store. I thought about how he’d called me a lucky butthead as I picked out a math workbook, some cool stickers, and a book about the solar system. Iwaslucky. I was lucky to not be in school, where Ritchie would corner me in the cafeteria and squeeze my juice box onto the floor or eat my sandwich before I got the chance. I was lucky to not hear the other kids laugh at me when I stuttered after the teacher called on me to answer a question—I always knew the answers, but I hated saying them out loud. I was lucky to be with Mom, to go home and watch TV instead of play alone during recess.

I was the luckiest kid alive.

But then Luke came home, and I was happy, until Ritchie followed him inside. It wasn’t weird or anything—he lived just two doors down with his younger brother, Tommy, and theirmom—but I hated him. I hated Ritchie Wheeler more than I hated school, and I hated school a lot.

“Hey, Ritchie!” Mom said, smiling from the couch. “I bet you’re still so happy we moved into this house, huh?”

Ritchie’s eyes landed on me first before looking at Mom. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”

“It’s nice you guys live so close together now.” She reached out to tug at Luke’s arm. “Right, Luke?”

Luke rolled his eyes and sighed. He used to like when Mom talked to him after school, but now, he just acted like she annoyed him. “Yeah, sure, Mom. Can we have something to eat?”

She nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “You know where the food is.”

“Cool.”

My big brother looked at his best friend and grinned, both of them ignoring me entirely as they ran toward the kitchen, and I started to feel lucky again.

But then Mom went to the basement to do some laundry, and Luke announced that he had to take a piss and ran into the bathroom. That was when Ritchie wandered into the living room from the kitchen, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in his hand. He walked slowly toward me, taking a bite and chewing. Those wasps woke up in my belly again, and I shifted on the couch, moving farther away until there was nowhere else to go.

“I was worried about you today, Charlie boy,” Ritchie said, taking another bite. “I thought maybe you got sick.”

I swallowed and shook my head. “N-no, I’m o-okay.”

“Yeah.” He nodded and sat beside me, his thigh touching mine. “Luke said you weren’t gonna come back. He said your mommy thinks you’re too crazy to leave the house now.”

“I-I’m not crazy,” I muttered weakly.

“Maybe you’re just running away from me,” he said, like he was thinking out loud as he finished his sandwich. A glop of jelly was left on his fingers and he studied the red blob as he continued, “But you can’t run away from me, Charlie boy. I know where you live.”

Then, his hand snapped toward me, and those sticky, cold fingers dragged their way down my cheek, leaving the jelly behind on my skin. Tears burned at the back of my eyes, my bottom lip quivered, and I knew I would cry. I always cried, and Ritchie loved it.

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