Cat Meets Spider
He told Cindy on Saturday afternoon.
They were on the rooftop of her building because her mother was home and privacy in the Moon household meant getting above it. Peter sat on the ventilation unit and Cindy sat cross-legged on the roof surface and he said "The other girl I'm seeing wants to meet you."
Cindy looked at him. Her ponytail moved in the wind. She was wearing a Dalton Hockey shirt she'd stolen from the opposing team's bench at Tuesday's game and her mouth opened, closed, her jaw tightened, and then her face went carefully neutral. The neutral was worse than any of the others.
"When?" she said.
"Tonight. If you're okay with it."
"Where?"
"Neutral ground. A rooftop above a diner in Chelsea."
"What's her name?"
"Felicia."
Cindy looked at the sky. Her eyes moved without tracking anything. She'd seen the bites on his neck. She'd noticed them weeks ago and hadn't asked.
"The one who bites," she said.
"Yeah."
"Is she dangerous?"
"To me? No."
"That's not what I asked."
He thought about Felicia's claws in the door frame. The five lines in the steel. Her grappling hooks and her lockpicks and how she disappeared off buildings without looking back.
"She's capable," he said. "She's a thief. She's not going to hurt you."
"I can take care of myself."
"I know."
Cindy was quiet. She pulled a thread of web from her fingertip and wound it around her index finger. The web caught the light. She wound it tighter, then snapped it.
"Fine," she said. "Tonight."
The diner on West 22nd had a flat roof with a ledge and a good view of the street below and no security cameras pointing up. Peter had scouted it on patrol two nights ago. The diner was called Nick's. It had been called Nick's since 1987 according to the sign and it was open twenty-four hours and it sold pancakes and coffee and, according to its menu, "the best patty melt in Chelsea," which was a claim Peter had not tested.
He got there first. Sat on the ledge. The streetlights below made the roof dim and orange. A car alarm went off on 21st and stopped. A couple walked past the diner entrance arguing about directions.
Felicia arrived from the east. Civilian clothes. Jeans, leather jacket, a black beanie pulled over her white hair. No mask. She climbed the fire escape on the building next door and jumped the gap without using the grappling hook. She landed on the roof, saw Peter, and walked over and sat next to him on the ledge.
"She coming?"
"She said she'd be here."
Felicia crossed her arms.
Cindy arrived from above.
A web-line from the building across the street, a swing, and she landed on the roof ten feet from them. Civilian clothes. Hoodie, leggings, her hair in a ponytail. She straightened up and looked at Felicia and Felicia looked at her and Peter sat between them and wondered if his spider-sense was going to fire.
It didn't.
"You're shorter than I expected," Felicia said.
"You're older than I expected," Cindy said.
Cindy's chin was up. Felicia's arms were crossed. Neither of them was looking at him.
"I'm Peter," Peter said. "I'll be your mediator this evening."
Neither of them laughed. He hadn't expected them to.
Felicia stood up. Walked toward Cindy. Stopped at arm's length. She was taller and older and she was looking at Cindy the way she looked at a room before robbing it.
"Show me the webs," she said.
Cindy held up her right hand. A thread of organic silk shot from her fingertip and stuck to the water tank across the roof. She pulled it taut. Plucked it once with her other hand. The vibration traveled the length. She snapped it loose with a flick.
Felicia watched. Her mouth moved once.
"Organic," she said. "Useful."
"Peter's are mechanical," Cindy said. "Mine are better."
"They're not BETTER," Peter said from the ledge.
"They're faster," Cindy said. "And I don't run out."
Felicia looked at Peter. "She has a point."
"I'm not getting ganged up on. I brought you together, not allied you against me."
"Show me what you do," Cindy said to Felicia.
Felicia walked to the roof-access door. It was locked. She pulled two picks from her jacket pocket and had the lock open in four seconds. The door swung wide. She closed it. Locked it again.
"Four seconds," Cindy said. Her eyebrow went up.
"Three on a good day," Felicia said.
They stood on the rooftop. Cindy in her hoodie, Felicia in her leather jacket, looking at each other.
Felicia spoke first.
"He told me about you."
"He told me about you," Cindy said.
Both of them looked at Peter. He held up his hands.
"I told the truth."
"All of it?" Felicia said.
"Enough of it."
Felicia looked back at Cindy. Her jaw worked once.
"Does the web thing happen when you-"
"Yes."
"Every time?"
"Usually."
Felicia's mouth pulled. The grin was real.
"That's incredible."
Cindy's face flushed. From her jaw to her ears, fast and total. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at the ground.
"It's embarrassing," Cindy said.
"It's a superpower."
"It's INVOLUNTARY."
"Best kind."
Peter sat on the ledge and watched two girls who shared him discuss the sexual applications of organic webbing and he thought: this is actually happening.
Felicia sat down on the ledge. Cindy stayed standing for another half a minute, then sat on Peter's other side. There was two feet of space between Peter and each of them. Neither girl was going to close it first.
"I'm hungry," Felicia said.
"There's a diner below us," Peter said.
"Does it have pancakes?"
"It has everything. It's a diner."
They went downstairs.
Nick's Diner was chrome and vinyl and fluorescent light and a guy behind the counter who looked like he'd been working there since the sign went up in 1987 and hadn't enjoyed a single shift. Three menus landed on the table. Peter sat in the middle of the booth. Cindy on his left. Felicia on his right.
Felicia ordered pancakes and coffee. Peter ordered coffee and a patty melt because the sign made a claim and he was testing it.
The waitress looked at Cindy. Cindy looked at the menu. Peter said "Actually, can you hold on one second?"
He got up. Walked to the counter. The guy behind the register looked at him.
"Is there a Korean place nearby that does delivery?"
"Two blocks. Yoon's. They close at one."
"Can I order from there and bring it in?"
"Kid, I don't care what you eat as long as you buy a drink."
Peter pulled out his phone. Found Yoon's. Ordered tteokbokki. Delivery to Nick's Diner, 22nd and Eighth. He went back to the table.
"I ordered you something," he said to Cindy.
"What?"
"You'll see."
Felicia's pancakes arrived. She ate them with the efficiency of someone who treated food as fuel. Peter's patty melt was fine. The cheese was real and the bread was buttered and grilled and it was midnight food and midnight food was graded on a different curve.
The delivery arrived fifteen minutes later. A bag from Yoon's Korean Kitchen. Peter took it from the delivery guy at the door, tipped him five dollars he couldn't afford, and put the container on the table in front of Cindy.
She opened it. Steam rose. Rice cakes in red sauce. Tteokbokki.
She stared at it.
"How did you-"
"You mentioned it."
She looked at the rice cakes. Her mouth pressed flat. Pressed flatter. Gave up.
"I mentioned it once."
"Yeah."
"Weeks ago."
"I remember things you say, Cin."
Her eyes were wet. She picked up the chopsticks and ate the first rice cake and chewed and her eyes were still wet and she ate another one. Across the table Felicia was watching. Her mouth was soft and her eyes were quiet.
Cindy ate every piece. She didn't share. She didn't offer. She ate all of it and wiped her eyes with a napkin and put the chopsticks down.
"Thank you," she said. Quiet.
"Any time."
Felicia drank her coffee and looked at the diner window and the streetlight outside.
They went back to the roof.
The city was loud below and quiet up here and the three of them sat on the ledge with their feet hanging over the edge. Peter in the middle. Cindy on his left. Felicia on his right.
Cindy's hand landed on his left knee. Light. Her fingers rested there. She was looking at the skyline.
Felicia's boot pressed against his right calf. Firm. Deliberate. She was looking at Chelsea.
He sat very still.
"I should go," Cindy said. "My mom checks at one."
She stood up. Looked at Felicia. Her chin was up and her eyes were steady.
"You're not what I expected," Cindy said.
"Neither are you."
They looked at each other for two seconds. Then Cindy fired a web-line and swung off the roof without looking back. The organic silk caught the streetlight before she disappeared between buildings.
Felicia watched her go.
"She's good," Felicia said.
"Yeah."
"She's also seventeen."
"So am I."
"I know." Felicia stood up. Brushed off her jeans. "The rice cakes were a nice touch."
"I just remembered."
"That's the point, Peter." She pulled the beanie tighter over her hair. "You remember. That's the whole thing."
She jumped off the roof.
Peter sat on the ledge alone. The concrete was cold. His left knee was warm where Cindy's hand had been. His right calf was warm where Felicia's boot had pressed.
The diner sign buzzed below him. The street was quiet.
He climbed down the fire escape and walked.