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Spider-Girl.
    The Boy Prince knows what it means, but he pretends not to.
    Jollie backs away and tells them to have fun, and they act like confused mice, hovering in deep space. Jollie thinks they look like they were made for each other. She has no idea in this moment who she, herself, was made for. No idea at all.
    Mark. I’m so sorry.
    She reaches the door and forgets it’s locked, tries to open it, and thinks she’s trapped for just a half second. Laughs at herself and remembers.
    And then there’s a knock at the door.
    And Mark’s voice.
    â€œJollie? Are you in there? I have to talk to you.”
    â€œYay, party favors,” Andy says to the blonde, perking right up. “Looks like our man is on time, after all.”
    â€œOh poop,” Spider-Girl says. “I was just getting used to waiting.”
    Andy smiles. “We can wait some more later, if you want to.”
    â€œMaaaaybe.”
    Jollie’s heart has already jumped into her mouth, her buzz nearly ruined as Mark’s voice comes again, through the door:
    â€œJollie? Open up, okay?”
    He sounds really upset.
    Jollie turns to the crazy kids on her waterbed and sighs hard. “Look, you two stay in here. I have to talk to him alone first.”
    â€œDishonesty is always the best policy,” Andy says, smiling.
    â€œLook, just shut up ,” Jollie says, glaring.
    Now, Mark starts banging on the door.
    â€œI can hear you guys in there— open up, goddammit !”
    â€œYeah, I’ll be right out!”
    And she freezes Andy with a laser-ice look. You just stay right on that waterbed and don’t fucking move.
    Jollie opens the door and slides out into the smoky hall with Mark. Only opens the door a few inches, so he can’t see the kids in her room. She forgets all about her smartphone back there on the desk—which is strange, because she’s never very far from that thing. But Mark isn’t paying attention to her phone. Mark doesn’t even have time to see Jollie’s face before he grabs her by the hand and pulls her to his room at the end of the hall, unlocks the door, and slams it behind them. It’s a series of fast blurs. Tracers and feelings. Shocked amazement and weird tangles of love and shame. Jollie can hardly understand what’s happening, even when they are alone together and Mark pulls her close and kisses her. He tastes like home and hearth. She wraps her arms around him and they mash into each other, melt into each other, and she wants to say she is sorry, wants to tell him so many things, but all those things explode in her breast and evacuate in a low sigh and he is so close, so close  . . .
    And a million lifetimes later, they untangle.
    Mark is looking right in her eyes.
    She can tell he’s on Xanax because of the red in there.
    His eyes always look that way when he’s on downers.
    But the dope doesn’t hide the terrible, serious look on his face.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she says, because she thinks he’s angry with her—thinks he knows about her and Andy. She thinks someone told him about the three of them sneaking off together. Thinks she’s finally busted.
    But that’s not what he says at all.
    â€œSomething really heavy has just happened, Jollie. There was no avoiding it. So you have to come with me right now  . . .”
    He looks right in her eyes, deeper than he’s ever looked before.
    â€œ. . . or you’ll never see me again.”
    And she finally notices that there is blood on his face.
    30 minutes and COUNTING . . .
    â€œI t all happened so fast,” Jackie chokes out, holding his insides in with both hands, as the bad lieutenant hovers over him. “He turned into a . . . he moved so quick . . . I think . . . I’m dying . . .”
    He remembers the bright flash of the first muzzleblast like a white-hot strobe in his face, the