While she waited for her food, she checked the world clock on her phone. It was just past 6:00AMin New York. Carly definitely wouldn’t be up yet.
Heather, 8:04PM: Call me when you get up?
Her thumbs hovered over the screen as she wondered whether she should say more. What would she say? “FYI, I just accidentally went on a really good first date and fled the scene as soon as I realized what was going on”? She gave her head a little shake and was about to text Carly it was nothing serious—even though she wasn’t sure that was the truth—when, to her surprise, the phone vibrated, and Carly’s photo popped up.
“You’re awake early,” Heather answered.
“‘Awake’ is a strong word,” Carly croaked, and Heather smiled. She felt better just hearing her friend’s voice.
“What did you do last night?”
“I drank a little champagne,” Carly said coyly, and Heather could hear the rustle of sheets in the background. “Okay, sparkling wine, not real champagne, but still. I was celebrating.”
“Did Samuel and Brett actually fall in the orchestra pit?”
“Not yet,” Carly growled. “But yesterday Jack cornered me after class and demanded to know what you’re doing in Australia.”
“Are you okay?” Heather asked quickly. “What did you tell him?”
“Oh, I’m fine. I just smiled sweetly and told him I hadn’t heard from you because all those fine Australian men were keeping you so busy.”
Heather scoffed, then felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. Carly didn’t know how right she was. “Did you really say that?”
“No, I told him to fuck off forever, like I’ve been wanting to do for seven years. It felt amazing! His face wentpurple.”
Heather let out a shaky breath. Her best friend could stand up to Jack and his cronies, but Heather wished she didn’t have to face them on her own. “Okay,” she said, grateful for an excuse to change the subject, “are you going to tell me what you were celebrating, or should I keep guessing?”
“You’ll never guess, I could hardly believe it when I found out.”
Now Heather was really curious. “What’s going on?”
“Well, it’s not definite yet, but Mr. K finally agreed to do some women’s empowerment initiative this season, because they’ve been getting so much shit for not hiring women choreographers, you know?”
Heather nodded. There had been a series of outraged op-ed columns in the last few years, every time NYB announced yet another new season with basically no ballets made by women.
“So yesterday one of the women choreographers came to company class to figure out who she wants to use in her ballet, and it sounds like she wants me for a principal role! Baby’s first principal part!”
“That’s great! Oh, I’m so happy for you,” Heather grinned. It was unusual for a corps de ballet dancer to be picked for a principalrole, but Carly deserved this. In truth, she had deserved it a long time ago.
Across the counter, a waiter slid a plastic bag toward her, and she put her hand over the phone to thank him.
“I’m in the second cast, so I think it’ll only be for Wednesday nights and matinees,” Carly was saying as Heather stepped back onto the sidewalk, “But still, exciting, right?”
“So exciting,” Heather said, “I’m so proud of you.” As her friend talked and Heather rounded the corner onto her street, she felt her shoulders relax. For a moment she forgot why she’d wanted to talk to Carly in the first place.
“They’re doing this big press rollout about all the women choreographers they’ve hired,” Carly continued. “Well, all two of them. But they’re making a big fuss about it, after all the pressure they’ve been under. I’m going to be in the photo shoot and everything! It’s totally nerve-racking, but—”
“You’ll be brilliant,” Heather interrupted her, and she meant it. “And everyone else who dances the role after you will spend the rest of ballet eternity trying to do it as well as you will.” Carly laughed, sounding delighted and a little relieved.
Heather let herself into the house and hustled back to the kitchen as Carly talked about how cool the choreographer seemed and how she hoped the new work was something interesting and innovative. Heather set her food down on the counter next to the fridge, then froze in horror.
“Ohmygod,” she breathed, staring, too shocked to properly form words.
“I know, right?” Carly said, oblivious.
“NononoIgottago,” Heather gasped, and slowly, moving as carefully as she dared, she hung up and took a step backward.
There was a spider in her kitchen. A huge, hulking spider, with a bulbous body that, even from a distance, she could see was covered in dark brown fur. Its legs were hunched up around its round, revolting body, but they looked so long that, when fully extended,the creature would be bigger than her hand. Heather stared at it, open-mouthed and appalled, her heart hammering in her chest.
