Page 9 of Summer People
I didn’t think her eyes could get any bigger, but I swear they double again. They glitter with excitement too. “She said I can call her Libby.” Her hand is still cupped and her voice is still a whisper-shout.
The guy—Fisher?—rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you don’t need to repeat everything she says. I’m standing right here.”
The girl gives him an unamused glare that tells me she holds all the control in their relationship. “You’re so embarrassing.”
“My dad’s the same way,” I tell her. “I’m guessing his name is Fisher, but what about yours?”
“You don’t need to—” he starts.
“I’m Sutton,” she says, cutting him off with another glare. “Fisher and I live next door. If you need anything at all, just come knock.” She leans forward as if she’s telling me a secret. “Doorbell doesn’t work.”
“Sutton, you can’t just invite?—”
Her once wide eyes are narrowed into thin slits now, the expression fierce enough to shut the guy up.
He lets out a heavy sigh. “The doorbell doesn’t work.”
I think it’s supposed to be an invitation to stop by if I need something, yet it’s obvious he’s offering under duress. He clearly doesn’t like to be bothered.
But if that’s the case, then why did he come running into my house? I would have figured out the spider situation eventually. Or I would have burned the house to the ground.
Come to think of it…
“Where’d that spider go?” I scan the floor, my pulse picking up. Where did the eight-legged terror scurry off to? The last thing I need is for him to find me while I’m sleeping and crawl into my mouth and choke me in my sleep.
Images of the possibility have my body shuddering once more.
Sutton smiles. “Oh, there’s lots of spiders around here. I’m sure we can find you another friend.”
“Friend?” My voice is far too high, but I can’t help it. Not when the creepy-crawly sensation of phantom spiders has hit.
Her brows pinch together, like maybe this guy has convinced the poor, unsuspecting child that spiders are friendly.
“And what do you mean plenty of spiders around here?”
Amusement dances in Fisher’s eyes. “Like I was saying before.”
“Y- you need to get rid of them,” I sputter. “I can’t—no, Iwon’tstay here if there’s going to be spiders crawling all over me.”
“You could stay at our house,” Sutton says, face lit up. “I haven’t seen any spiders in our house in a long time.”
Fisher glares at her. “Your nose is growing, sweet pea.”
She rubs at it, bottom lip stuck out. “Is not.”
He huffs. “I’ll do a sweep. Take care of any spiders I find.”
A smile rips across my face. “Really?”
With another sigh—it’s gotta be his fifth since he barged in—he deflates. “Yes.” He turns toward Sutton and points a finger. “But you stay right here. And for once, actually listen to me.”
Sutton puts her hand behind her back and nods. “I promise.”
I try not to laugh. That girl definitely had her fingers crossed back there.
He glances at me once more before shaking his head and disappearing down the hall.
“So what do you think of our island?” Sutton asks, toeing the floor with one tiny shoe.
