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“Willow, if you bring that teacup any closer, I swear I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” I ask, smirking. “Kill me? You can’t incite violence in Whisper Grove, remember?”
“Then it’ll be payback as soon as we’re past the border. Seriously—back the hell off with that thing.”
“Tell me why you don’t like them,” I say, taking another step closer. He stands, huffing as he moves around the bed to get farther away from me.
“I just don’t.”
“But this one is harmless, so what’s the big deal?”
“I just don’t fucking like them, all right? Never have and never will.”
“There has to be a reason.”
Caz’s head shakes as he takes another step back with a frown. “Fine, if I tell you, will you fuck off?”
“Sure.” I smile, bringing the teacup to my chest.
He draws in a breath, clearly relieved that I’ve stopped coming closer, then shakes his head as he exhales. “First of all, let’s set the record straight. I’m not fuckingafraidof them. I’mtraumatizedby them.”
I blink. “How?”
“I was running in a forest one day with some friends and fell down a well. I was maybe nine or ten. Anyway, I was stuck there for maybe an hour or so while my friends went to get help. Shortly after they’d left, I moved around in the well and stepped on a spider’s nest. They crawled all over me—under my clothes, into my shoes, my hair.” He shudders. “I tried getting them off, but it seemed the more I smashed or swiped at them, the more they kept coming. Someone finally got me out of the damn well, but not without me being bitten over thirty times. I had to stay in the hospital for a week so they could clear my body of their poison. My doctor told me had I been in that well any longer, I probably would’ve died. Since then, I don’t fucking like them.”
“Oh my God.” I step away, my stomach sinking. “That’s…that’s so traumatizing. I’m sorry that happened to you.” Now I feel like a complete bitch.
He doesn’t say a word, just looks away, as if ashamed, and now Ireallyfeel bad. He hates spiders because of a childhood trauma. That’s awful.
I wobble around the bed to get to the window, twisting the lock open and lifting it. I dump the spider onto the windowsill, and it scatters away quickly. Then I close and lock the window before setting the teacup on the shelf next to me.
Caz climbs off the bed, walking to the chair and picking up his jacket.Not staying here.
He carries the jacket with him, marching to the door, and my heart pounds as I watch him go toward it. “Wait—Caz,” I call as he wraps a large hand around the doorknob.
He stops, and I feel a slight ache in my chest again, only this time it doesn’t hurt. It’s pulsing, like it has its own heartbeat above my own heart. A chill sweeps through my body, but unlike the coldness before, this one doesn’t paralyze me. Instead, it soothes the marrow in my bones and causes my scalp to tingle.
“You don’t have to leave,” I tell him. “I’m not judging you about the spiders. After hearing that story, I understand why you’re afraid of them, and I’m sorry for taunting you about it.”
He turns fully around, glaring at me. “I’mnotafraid of them.”
“Right—well, it makes sense why you hate them.”
He tips his chin, clearly finding that statement more suitable. “You tell anyone, and I’ll bury you.”
I fight a smirk. “No, you won’t.”
“What makes you think I won’t?”
“Because apparently we’re Tethered.” I step closer, but not without wobbling. “And I have a feeling burying me would be just like burying yourself.”
He’s quiet as I take another step. Then he says, “Look at you. You can hardly walk and you’re talking about some Tether.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
If I’m not mistaken, his eyes soften as he looks into mine. It’s very brief, but they do, and he clears his throat, looking away to break his trance.
“Look, I know you feel this…whateverthis is that happens when we’re arguing or disagreeing with each other,” I go on.
