Mother of the Spiders: Octagon

3. Ivy (Thread One)

[Each chapter of Octagon corresponds to a song that inspired the shape of the character arc and/or story arc. You can listen to each chapter's "song" to gain further insight into the world-building of Gossamer Loom and the people who live there. I definitely had fun listening to these songs while I was writing the novel. Chapter 3's "Formation Song" is "Back to Black" by Amy Winehouse.]

Pam's, located in town square, was the only restaurant in Gossamer Loom, and it was as much a part of the town as the square itself. The building was small, with a cherry red door and a hand-painted sign that swung gently in the breeze. Inside, the walls were lined with photographs of the town in days-gone-by, and the smell of freshly baked bread and roasting meat filled the air. Pam herself was a fixture in the town, a woman of indeterminate age with a warm smile and a way of making everyone feel at home. The food at Pam's was simple but hearty, the kind of fare that stuck to your ribs and made you feel warm from the inside out. There were locals who had been coming to Pam's for decades, and Ivy could name most of them off the top of her head.

Ivy had worked at Pam's since she was a teenager, a part-time gig that had turned full-time after she dropped out of college. She didn't regret it. College had been a mistake, and Gossamer Loom was her home, for better or worse.

She stood behind the counter, wiping down the same spot she'd cleaned twice already. The rag was damp, her fingers sticky with old grease and coffee stains. But she didn't mind the grime so much—it was part of the job. Another normal night.

Except for one thing. There was a dramatic update in the goings on of the Gossamer Loom pre-teenagers. And Ivy was floored:

Josiah Loomridge sat in a booth near the window with Leslie Johnson, of all people, sharing a milkshake with her.

That wasn't normal. Not even close.

Usually, Ivy saw Josiah in here with Emily Hadley. Ivy knew all about Emily. Emily was a little asshole who put others down to make herself feel better—all shitty little smiles in front of adults and cruel words behind their backs. She had a special place in Ivy's mind—right inside the cabinet of people Ivy would like to see brutalized.

But that was bad. Emily was a little girl! Ivy reminded herself that she needed to stop thinking violent thoughts about people under the age of 16.

Emily wasn't here tonight, anyway.

Leslie was.

Ivy watched them out of the corner of her eye, pretending to polish the counter but paying attention to every little movement. Leslie looked uncomfortable, like she wasn't sure if she should even be there. Her shoulders were hunched, her fingers fidgeting with the straw wrapper, and she didn't make much eye contact. Josiah, though... Josiah looked different. Softer. Almost like a weight had been lifted from him, but he hadn't quite figured out why yet.

Ivy turned away from the booth, her hand tightening around the washcloth. Josiah needs to get the hell out of that thing with Emily. She had seen enough toxic shit in her life to know when a boy was trapped, and Josiah was too young to be stuck with a little demon like Emily. She had overheard the way Emily manipulated him, dragging him around like he was her ken doll. She knew what that did to someone, how it tore at them slowly, making them believe they couldn't leave even if they wanted to.

He's only thirteen years old...

But that wasn't Ivy's business. That voice, the one that always told her to keep her head down, to not get involved, suddenly came swooping back in. She heard that voice ringing in her ears whenever she felt that itch to speak up, to push back. She'd had enough close calls in this town. She was one of the only black women in Gossamer Loom, and the last thing she needed was to give all the old white people more reason to see her as a troublemaker. And Emily and Josiah came from those old white families... the kind that made it clear to Ivy with their glances and their tones just how they saw her...