Just Stupid! (8 page)

   ‘Am I there?’ asks Craig.

   I see Jen’s feet move towards the dressing table.

   ‘Of course you are,’ laughs Jen. ‘I had the best night, Craig. You really know how to make a girl feel special.’

   ‘That’s not hard,’ says Craig. ‘You’re a pretty special girl, Jen. Here, this is for you.’

   ‘Oh thank you,’ says Jen. ‘I love roses. It’s beautiful. Just like the ones Dad grows.’

   ‘Actually, it is one of your dad’s,’ says Craig. ‘I picked it on the way in.’

   ‘You shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble,’ laughs Jen.

   ‘Nothing’s too much trouble for you,’ says Craig.

   I’ve got to get out of here. Before I throw up. A rose. How corny. What’s next? A box of chocolates?

   ‘Ouch!’ says Jen. ‘It pricked me!’

   ‘I see the rose hit the floor. It’s not far from my head. If she bends down to pick it up she’s going to see me. I wriggle as far away from the edge of the bed as I can.

   ‘Are you okay?’ says Craig. ‘Here, let me kiss it better.’

   I can see Craig’s black leather shoes facing Jen’s bare feet in the centre of her Yin and Yang rug. Craig is standing on the white bit. Jen is on the black bit. Their feet are very close. For a few moments there is no sound.

   ‘Oh Craig,’ says Jen.

   ‘Oh Jen,’ says Craig.

   ‘Oh brother,’ I say, only I say it very quietly so that they don’t hear me.

   Out of the corner of my eye I see movement.

   There’s something coming out of the rose.

   Something black.

   Something hairy.

   Something disgusting.

   Something with fangs.

   And it’s heading straight for me.

   This is not good. Not only am I trapped underneath my sister’s bed while she smooches with a thug who has threatened to punch my head in on at least two occasions, now I’ve got a killer spider heading straight for my earhole.

   It’s not a really big spider or anything, but that makes it even worse. It’s the small ones that are really lethal.

   What if it gives me one of those bites that
never heals? The sort where your flesh just starts dying and spreads over your whole body until you’re practically a zombie.

   Or even worse, what if it’s pregnant and just wants to paralyse me and lay its eggs in my flesh so that when the babies hatch they’ve got lots of fresh meat to feed on?

   My only hope is that Jen and Craig will see it and deal with it before it reaches me. Look down! Look down!

   ‘Oh Craig,’ says Jen.

   ‘Oh Jen,’ says Craig.

   I don’t think they’re going to look down.

   The spider is crawling towards me. It’s so close I can see the light glinting off its enormous black fangs. It’s coming to get me.

   Hang on. Jen and Craig are moving closer to the bed.

   Maybe they’ll step on it. Come on . . . please . . . please . . .

   Craig’s feet stop beside the bed.

   I can’t see the spider any more. I think he stood on it, but I can’t tell for sure.

   Hang on.

   There it is!

   The spider is on the toe of Craig’s shoe. It’s going to crawl up his leg. Excellent!

   Well, not excellent for Craig, but excellent for me.

   All I have to do now is wait. Sooner or later Craig is going to realise there’s a spider on him. Hell freak. Jen will see the spider and go hysterical—she is even more terrified of spiders than she is of the bogeyman. She will scream and run out of the room. Craig will follow, Mum and Dad will wake up, and in all the commotion I will slip quietly back to my room. Simple.

   Suddenly they sit down on the bed. The bed gets even lower. It buckles under their weight and pushes against my chest. Great. I’m even more cramped than I was before. I wish that spider would hurry up. I’m going to suffocate down here.

   I feel an itch on the side of my neck, just below my ear, but I can’t scratch it because I’m too squashed. I hate that. It’s really itchy and the more I can’t scratch the more it itches. I can’t stop thinking about it. I need to take my mind off it. I’ll do my seven times table. One seven is seven. Two sevens are fourteen. Three sevens are . . . um . . . um . . . damn this itch! I can’t concentrate. I can’t even remember what three times seven is. It’s the itchiest itch
ever. And it’s spreading. Now it’s on my cheek.

   Hang on. It’s not spreading—it’s moving. Itches don’t move. I don’t think it’s an itch— I think it’s the spider.

   Okay. Get a grip. I’m not going to panic. I’m going to stay calm. I can handle this.

   I don’t know for sure that it’s the spider. It could be just a moth. Or an ant. Something harmless.

   Whatever it is, I should be able to squash it if I turn my head and press my cheek against my shoulder.

   My nose rubs the bottom of the bed as I turn my head.

   Not a good idea. Turning my head has made whatever it is move faster.

   It’s moving up towards my mouth.

   I hold my breath. I strain to look down to see what it is. Uh-oh. It’s the spider. It looks much bigger close up.

   I squeeze my eyes shut and hold my breath. I want to scream, but the spider places a leg across my lips as if to shush me. This is our secret, it seems to be saying, this is just between you and me.

   It draws its furry body across my mouth and pauses. My lips are shut tight.

   Okay. This is not good. But I’m not going to panic. I’ll be all right if I don’t panic. I have to keep control of myself and not alarm the spider.

   Maybe I could blow it off.

   I part my lips the tiniest amount possible and start to blow. The spider doesn’t budge. It lowers and flattens its body like it’s trying to hold on.

   I need a bigger breath. I breathe in as deeply through my nose as I can and blow harder. But it’s still not enough. For all I know the spider is enjoying this—it must be like standing in front of a warm heater on a cold day.

   Suddenly Jen squeals.

   ‘Stop it, Craig!’ she giggles. ‘That tickles! Stop please, no!’

   The bed buckles and thumps down on my chest.

   I gasp. Something catches in my throat. I gulp.

   Oh no.

   I just swallowed the spider!

   ‘Aaaaaggghhhhh!’ I scream.

   ‘What’s that?’ says Craig.

   They’ve heard me, but I don’t care. All I care about is the spider.

   What if it bites me on the inside? That’s worse than getting bitten on the outside. The poison will go straight into my bloodstream. I could be dead within minutes.