Spider's Web

One

I dragged my suitcase behind me as I walked down the hallway. The wheels stuttered and jumped on the wooden floor, wavy and distorted with age, which was covered by a worn burgundy runner that covered the length of the second-floor corridor.

The hallway was brighter than I remember, or maybe that's because the last time I was here, a thick fringe of long bangs had obscured my vision. They'd finally grown out, much to my excitement.

I reached the end of the hallway, the last door on the right. I leaned my suitcase against the wall and fished my key out of my pocket. Twisting it in the lock, I elbowed the door open and pulled my suitcase inside.

"Ciara!" A squeal resonated from inside the closet, and Heather jumped out, running to the door to embrace me.

"It hasn't even been a month, you know," I protested, though still happily returning her hug.

"I know," she said, releasing me from her viselike grip and picking up my suitcase to throw it on the bed. "But we haven't been here since last spring."

"Yeah. It's good to be back." I looked around the room I lived nine months out of the year in.

It was large, as dorm rooms go, big enough for a twin bed on either side of the room and two desks next to the beds in the center of the back wall, leaving a gap between them to look out at the gardens through a big window. We each had a chest of drawers and a wardrobe.

Heather had decorated her half of the room in pink and white. She'd hung posters on the walls, and her bedspread was patterned with flowers. Her desk was neat as a pin. Her side of the room always started out neat, but was a total mess halfway through the first quarter. I liked that she was messy. It made her seem more like a real person.

My half was totally plain, as I hadn't moved in yet. But this year I had a new blue bedspread, a beanbag chair, and a bookshelf to install. I had my suitcase, and my parents had my other things downstairs. They were checking me in, and would bring my stuff up later.

"So what've you been doing this past month?" I asked Heather as I unzipped my suitcase and started pulling uniform pieces from it.

Heather flopped on her bed. She was taller than me, with perfect smooth skin, straight, creamy California blond hair, and big green eyes. She always wore perfect makeup and fabulous clothes I could never afford, the latter of which today was a long orange designer sundress and sandals that probably cost as much as my whole wardrobe. Heather was lucky; rich and beautiful, and I'll admit it, I was a little jealous sometimes. But we both ended up here, so I don't hate her for having more than I do.

"Here" being BSGS, the Boston School for Gifted Students. It sounds really snooty, but it's just a boarding school like any other, only you have to get invited to attend by one of the recruiters, who go around New England looking for artistic, musical, and academic talent. I'm here for my painting. Heather's here for her singing voice.

"Nothing, really. I had a boring summer after you left. Dad's in China again, and Mom found a new wine she likes, so I was pretty much alone the whole time," Heather said flippantly, rolling to her feet and walking over to help me unpack.

That's another reason I try not to be jealous of Heather. Her home life sucks. I might live in a tiny apartment, but at least I know my mom won't be drunk out of her mind when I come back from school.

"What took you so long to get here? Kylie, Tessa and I have been moved in for two days."

"Today was the only day both my parents could drive down to drop me off," I said, refolding my pairs of knee socks and laying them in the chest of drawers. "Oh, where are Kylie and Tessa, by the way? I texted you all to tell you I'd be here around two."

"It's two o'clock now, and here we are!" sing-songed a voice from the window. Heather and I looked around as Kylie and Tessa crawled through the window and dropped into the room.

I ran over to hug them. Kylie was my height, with wide dark eyes, an upturned nose, and vibrant red layered hair. She wore a tank top with the name of some obscure band on it, a denim miniskirt, capri leggings, and a pair of worn combat boots.

Tessa was shorter, skinny as a rail, and had a head of light brown curls. Her eyes were brown, and magnified by a pair of purple glasses. A smattering of freckles covered the bridge of her long nose. She was already dressed in her uniform, though term didn't officially start until tomorrow.

"'Bout time you showed up, Ci. School was about to start without you," Kylie said, bouncing onto Heather's bed. Tessa sat in my desk chair, crossing her ankles primly.

"Come on. I wouldn't miss this for the world," I said, holding up a one of the notoriously itchy uniform blouses. Kylie snorted. "What have you guys been up to this summer?" I asked, returning to unpacking.

"I finally learned French," Tessa said. "Maintenant, vous avez enfin de parler à quelqu'un en plus des professeurs de français."

"Génial! Il est temps, vous savez--" I began, excited that I would be able to speak French with someone outside my family. It's not a very common language in Boston, unfortunately, and I was a little out of practice, despite having grown up learning it as well as English.

"Guys. English please," Kylie said. Of all of us, she was the only one who only spoke English. Although technically Heather isn't fluent in Spanish and German, she knows a few words for foreign songs. I had tried to teach her French while I'd stayed at her house over the summer, but she didn't have a very good head for languages, and she hadn't picked it up.

"Sorry." Tessa said. She'd been recruited to BSGS for her brains, especially her skill in languages. Though only sixteen, she was fluent in seven of them, and currently learning Hindi and Swedish.

"I'm so not looking forward to history this year. Mr. Kelly retired, and they replaced him with some old war veteran who looks as mean as a wet cat," Heather complained.

"Mr. Kelly retired?" He was one of my favorite teachers last year. He made even the most boring material into a joke, and he had a hilarious wheezing laugh that put the whole class in stitches.

"Yeah. There's a new Spanish teacher too."

"Does anyone know when the showcases are this year?" Heather asked.

"End of May, I think. I don't know the exact dates," Kylie said. At the end of every year, BSGS had showcases where the students displayed what they'd learned during the year. The singers, dancers, and musicians have performances, the artists have a show, and the writers generally do some kind of reading. All the parents come, and it's always a big deal. The showcases are the week after finals, and since there are no classes, all the students attend the showcases. Directly after the showcases is the spring dance, on the first day of the last week of term. The final few days are just for moving out and closing out the year nicely.

There are two dances at BSGS, the fall and spring. The fall dance is in October, and is more casual. The formal spring dance is at the end of the year.

"I can't wait for the showcase this year. They've got recruiters for colleges coming, so it could be a big decider for the future," Heather said.

This could be my chance to get into a great art college. And that could lead to a profitable career. If I do well at this year's showcase, my future could be decided.

Technically, this is only my third year at BSGS. But colleges look for new talent in third year because if they went to the fourth year showcases, it would already be too late to enroll. So next year when we do showcases, it'll just be for fun because we'll have decided this year.

This year is extremely important for my career and my life. I can't afford to screw it up.