Black Adagio (9 page)

Una walked to the door. Melissa ducked back so she wouldn't be seen.

“Well, luckily for you, it is not your decision.”

“Yes, it is Alexei's. Then you persist knowing the ballet is cursed?”

“Yes.”

“And there is no changing your mind knowing that whatever girl you select will die?”

“You are being so overly dramatic, Viktor.”

“Let sleeping dogs
lie, Una.”

“In spite of the histrionics, the answer is no,” she stated flatly.

“Then damn you, Una! And him! You can both go straight to hell.”

She was so caught up in the conversation that she forgot she was eavesdropping. Viktor's chilling words repeating in her head, she hightailed it away from the door. Just making it to the staircase on the other side of the hall, he exited. Una watched him for a moment before closing the door. Hearing it shut, he pivoted, shrieking out, “MADNESS!” His shadow growing on the walls of the stairwell, it was like a hungry monster set on enveloping the school in its dark presence.

Trying to calm her breathing, it wasn't her first excursion into the treacherous nature of adults saying one thing and doing another. Una had lied to them all when she’d assured that the decisions would be based on talent. Falling for that story hook, line, and sinker, she clutched at her throat trying to make sense of the rest of what she'd heard. Were they really discussing her? Had Viktor really compared her to Una?

Her mind was running rampant. It ignored the fact that there were over 50 other girls invited to what Grant had called a shindig. Her mind alive with possibilities about the change in program, perhaps they were doing Giselle. A tale of madness, there would still be no reason for hysteria over choosing it. Staged many times, it certainly never brought death and destruction to its participants.

Hearing no more footsteps, Missy came out of her hiding place. Dashing down the corridor to the other staircase, her eyes remained glued on Una's door. Set to descend the stairs, she ran into a set of eyes as cold as Siberia.

“You! How long have you been here?”

It was Viktor. Laying in wait, he’d set a trap and she'd fallen into it. Cornered, his bulky girth blocked her from exiting around him. Taking a tentative step backwards, he matched her so that she was no further away for her effort.

“I didn't mean to listen ... I was ...” Melissa denied between gulps. Her mind frazzled, she was unable to come up with a cover story good enough to satisfy the hungry wolf breathing down Little Red Riding Hood's neck.

“I should bite off your nose,” he threatened. Mayhem running through his veins and tingeing his voice with contempt, he lowered his words to a whisper meant only for her to hear. “Then I will devour you whole.”

Whirling around, he left her in his wake. His words hitting on what she’d felt when she entered the dance academy, she dared not move. His menacing sentiments still ringing in her ears, she sat on the top step as he limped away. The echo of his cane sounding like a drumbeat, it signaled the end of her dancing career.

Chapter
Eight

“You were right about Una switching the programs, Melissa,” Collette confirmed on their way to partnering class. “It’s all over school.”

The two friends stopped by a vending machine for a quick snack. While Melissa had shared some of the conversation that she’d overhead with her friend, she hadn’t told her everything. The information about Brandi’s parents buying their daughter parts was too hurtful. 

“Did you hear what we’ll be performing?” Missy asked, nibbling her granola nut bar.

“No, only that we won't be doing
Swan Lake
—just like you said.”

“Who did you hear it from?”

Continuing to walk, they entered the classroom, keeping their voices low.

“From Kurt, but he said that Brandi was his source. He said her parents got another call … last night. Guess they’re not happy. According to her, she was set to dance the lead, but really, why the hell is Una so chummy with her parents? I just don't get it.”

Biting her tongue, she was thrilled that her roommate wouldn’t be butchering the role of Odette/Odile. She didn’t care how much funding it brought the school, it would have been a travesty. Hunching her shoulders, she feigned ignorance in the identical way she'd done in the past.

“I don’t know, but Una and Viktor are here,” she whispered, tucking away the remainder of the health bar.

“Wonder why?”

“Have no idea.”

“Well, I hope it’s to announce the new program. Hope it's something cool that needs a lead with big hips!”

“Oh, you!” Melissa admonished, slapping her lightly on her upper arm. Collette played along. Wincing piteously, she acted as if she were mortally wounded.

A soft tittering running throughout the room, Una brought it to a halt with a clap of her seasoned hands.

“Hello! In case you’re wondering, no, I am not taking class!” she teased. “I'm here to make the first announcements about the castings in our recital performance of
The Nutcracker
. Christina Rohms will be dancing Dew Drop and the Arabian solo. Brandi Cappella will be our Sugar Plum Fairy. And last, but not least, Zoe Ryan will be dancing the part of Clara with Justin Tortini as The Prince.”

The classroom broke out in rousing shouts of congratulations and applause. Much to the chagrin of Viktor, he looked as though he were about to be guillotined.

“I join in your congratulations,” Una continued, “As for the rest of you, the entire first and second castings will be posted downstairs—on the bulletin board right outside the office.”

While Melissa's attention should have been focused on Una, she spied Justin sidling over to Zoe. Curious about what was transpiring, he entwined his fingers over hers, lightly scratching her palm. The intimacy surprised her. Not aware of anything going on between them, Brandi noticed, also. The tender moment wiping the smile off her roommate’s face, maybe when her parents bought her another role, it would return.

A poke in her side broke her concentration, pulling her out of the unfolding drama. 

“Guess we were wrong,” Collette whispered.

“Guess so. Just news about the castings.”

“Justin and Tina don’t surprise me, but the rest? Ooh, la la! Have you seen Tina in class? She's so good”

“Yes, I saw her and she’s more than good. As if I needed someone like that showing up!” Melissa giggled.

With Una and Viktor’s departure, Franklin was on the move. Brandi again got paired with Bradley, while Zoe stayed safely in Justin's capable arms. Tina paired with Kurt Casings, Melissa was the only one to get stuck with a novice. Continually matched with Jeff Brunner, he was a tall, geeky kid that hadn't as yet grown into his spidery arms and legs. She made a face at Collette, who erupted
in a light sprinkling of laughter that was as soft as powdered sugar.

Tina and Kurt were the first ones in class to execute a tricky lift properly. Asked by the teacher to demonstrate, Tina hit the tour jeté onto her partner's shoulder numerous times. The class was grateful, mentally deconstructing the mechanics to understand how it was done.

Trying to emulate the proficiency, Zoe encountered some problems. Justin patiently coaching her, it didn’t take long for her to master the move. Parading around, he carried her triumphantly on his shoulder. Melissa wiped the sweat from her brow. Dreading venturing into another attempt with the clunker standing next to her, she was sure it would be a disaster.  

One by one, the rest of the class got it, leaving Melissa as the lone screw-up. It was hardly her fault. Jeff was too tall and didn't grasp the concept of bending at his knees. It left his shoulders at a level that was too high to reach. For some unknown reason, Franklin chose to focus on Zoe and Tina excluding the rest of the class. Missy became more frustrated. Attempting countless more times, she did her best to instruct Jeff in what to do. Ready to give up, it wasn’t in her nature to admit defeat. Digging deeply instead, she gathered her haunches, launching herself higher in the air. Jeff finally bending at the knee, the difference in the height worked. Ending majestically up on his shoulder, the miracle happened just as the class came to an end.

“That was great!” he effusively complimented.

“Whatever.”

Brushing him off with a flippant reply, she was resentful that Franklin had forced her to do his job.

“Let's go see the postings!”
Collette insisted. Dragging Melissa behind her, the grip on Melissa's wrist was that of a cat shimmying up a pole. Being led to slaughter, she didn't want to see, but figured it was inevitable. Sprinting across the lawn, Collette pushed through the massive crowd already milling about.

“Rats, I'm a rat,” Melissa mused, not seeing the positive side of being reduced to a rodent status.

“And a guest in the party scene!” Collette added, trying to perk her up.

“If anything, it makes it worse,” she said wandering away. She couldn't stand to look at the notice any longer. Let other girls who actually had roles take a look.

“Well, I only got ...”

“The Doll, a Snowflake,” Melissa counted on her fingers. “And!” she burst, adding a strident note to the fact there was more, “you're in the waltz at the end!”

Tears welled up in Melissa's dark eyes. How could she have been so wrong about her potential? She'd wasted her time and father's money, and all because Phoebe betrayed her by lying! Reason hitting her brain, it wasn't Phoebe's fault; Melissa had lied to herself as well.

Collette spirited her friend away from the pandemonium breaking out. Rocking her in her arms, she caressed her head.

“Melissa, I don't know how those castings were determined, but you're a great dancer! You are so much more talented than Brandi and Zoe ... and me.”

“Then why?” Melissa asked, her bottom lip quivering from the rug being pulled out from underneath her.

“I said I don't know,” she repeated, putting her hands on her shoulders and looking into her exquisite face. Wiping at the tears starting to roll down her perfect cheeks. “All I know is sometimes life ain’t fair, my dear, and this is one of those times. Seriously, you deserved more. I know it, and so should you. Don’t lose faith in yourself. Just don’t.”

The words she overheard came back to her. Viktor had been in charge of the casting. Was that the sole reason for her not getting a juicy role? Always taught that if she didn't get something, it was because she hadn’t tried hard enough, perhaps it was just another fallacy.

“Why don't we go into town tomorrow?” Melissa suggested. “I need to get away from here for the day. Clear my head and do some shopping.”

“Sure? How about asking Tina?”

“Most definitely.”

“Do we take the shuttle?”

“Or the bus.” she responded, taking her hand. “They have the schedules in the office so let's bust through this wild melee and get us one!”

“Woo-hoo,” smiled Collette. “Holybrook here we come!”

Chapter Nine

“How does this look,” Melissa asked. Mugging for her two companions, she held up the t-shirt that proclaimed, “Kiss Me, I'm a Dancer!”

Her two companions went silent, considering what discouraging words to use.

“Uh, only if you're opening a kissing booth at Velofsky’s. And I doubt Viktor would like that very much,” Collette appraised.

“Viktor doesn't like much of anything … about me, anyway,” she remarked, throwing the novelty shirt to the side. Dejected over the treatment afforded her by the man who'd threatened to eat her alive, while it had been said for dramatic effect, she doubted it would take much for him to follow through.

“Look, I know I'm new here, but can I say I don't understand what happened with those castings,” Tina remarked, her hair slicked under a jaunty cap. “I saw you in class today ... and in a lot of other classes,” she explained, stuttering for the right words, “and, and you, well, you’re good! I mean, spectacularly good! You're better than Zoe, and way better than ... what's her name?”

“Brandi,” Collette supplied.

Now that the world knew Melissa was better than those two, would that change anything? Doubting it, she still appreciated the sentiment. And she couldn’t blame the whole thing on payola. After all, the two girls trying to comfort her had gotten better roles than she did. Everyone had—all except the worst of the worst.

“Thanks, Tina. I can return the compliment. You are unbelievable! Those lifts you did today—solid!”

“Well, look who you were working with? I doubt anyone could have done much,” she offered in a conciliatory fashion.

“Is anyone else freakin' hungry like a wolverine, or is it me?” Collette asked to the tune her stomach was rumbling. The shuttle had deposited the trio in Holybrook over three hours ago, and suppertime was approaching fast.

“Nope, me, too!” chimed Melissa.

“And me! Should we head back? What time does the cafeteria close?”

“Seven o'clock,” Missy answered.

“And it's a thirty minute ride if we take the shuttle. We should be able to make it,” Tina said, placing her shopping bags down on the ground and zipping her parka.

“What about eating at that diner? We could always catch the bus.”

“Why?” Collette asked. “You like throwing good money away? Might I remind you that the meals are delish and priced right as in free?”

“I suppose. I just don't want to go back yet. Brandi will be there, yapping away about her échappés … and how she thinks that's how she landed the role because of them … and how much fun it is to work with Zoe and ...”

Collette put a hand on Melissa's forearm.

“Jealousy is a horrible disease. Just let it go.”

“Jealous! You think I'm jealous?” Melissa defended, her raised voice attracting the attention of a few shoppers. Catching their sideways glances, she lowered her volume, but not her venom. “Just so you know, dancing was not how she landed that role! It was because of her —”

Quickly stopping, did she really want anyone else to know? Swallowing the comment, she harbored the dirty little secret. She was so used to protecting dysfunctional behavior that it seemed normal.

“Because of her what?” Collette prompted, leaning in and waiting for the end of the sentence. “Feet? Body? Nice leotards? What?”

“Look, a second ago, you told me you didn't think she deserved the role!” Melissa argued, sick to death of even trying to make sense of things. “And now you're criticizing my poor attitude because I feel the same way?”

Placing her hands on her hips, Collette was heating up with anger. Tina attempted to intercede by playing peacemaker. Wedging herself in between the two opponents, no one was willing to go back to their corner.

“I said that?”

“Yes!” shot Melissa, “that’s exactly what you implied!”

“I don't think so. And besides, even if I did, I'm not the one bitching over the fact that ...”

“Yeah! Because you got nice juicy variations to dance! You know what? You just freakin' catch that shuttle and stuff your face in the cafeteria, okay? Just leave me the hell alone!” she exploded. Yanking her shopping bags resting on a pile of merchandise, she stormed away.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Tina asked. Not liking arguments, she didn't want to see these two friends divided by a clear misunderstanding. The furor was ridiculous. Anybody that knew anything about ballet should be able to tell Melissa was the superior dancer and that Brandi was wrong for the role.

“To eat! I'm starving!” she yelled over her shoulder, this time not caring who heard.

“But ....” Tina started, Collette grabbing her arm. Brushing it aside, Tina ran after Missy, Collette reluctantly following.

“Fine!” Collette responded, “but are you sure you want to do this? I mean, you'll have to take the bus because the shuttle doesn't run after —”

“I can read a schedule! I certainly don't need a non-supportive, uncaring, unsympathetic asshole stating the obvious!”

“That's it!” Collette exclaimed. “If you think this kind of childish behavior is going to get you anywhere, than good! And happy walking home—alone! Come on, Tina, let's go!”

Standing still for a moment, Tina wasn’t sure what to do. Not wanting to leave Melissa alone, it was clear that it’s what they both wanted. 

“But ... we shouldn't leave her ... we shouldn't!” she insisted.

Latching onto Tina's arm, she tugged her past Melissa.

“See you tomorrow. Hope the jealousy bug will be gone by then. Green is such an unattractive color for one’s skin!” she taunted, disappearing through the door.

“Did you have to say that? Can't you see she's upset?”

The door closing in Missy’s face, Tina's voice drifted through. Rushing outside, she left the shoppers to speculate on what all the fuss was about.

“Let them wonder,”
she whispered to herself.

About to make her way to the diner a few blocks away, the freezing air was no longer refreshing. It was way too early for this kind of drop of temperature. Not heeding Tina calling out her name, she kept walking in the other direction.

Already starting to regret her decisions, she refused to be deterred. At the entrance of the small, metal-plated diner in no time, she entered, scouring the busy eatery for an empty seat. Seeing a stool at the counter, she headed for it, a waitress stopping her.

“Just you, honey?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Got just the spot for you. Right at my station, and away from these wolves!” she said hitting the backs of men seated at the counter with the menus clutched in her hand. A few good-naturedly howling, Missy relaxed, suddenly confident that she'd made the right decision. A friendly town, it was a lot nicer than some dance academies that she could mention.

“Name's Bonnie,” she said ushering Melissa to an unoccupied booth.

“Melissa,” she responded, sitting down, and sliding off her coat.

'Here, I'll take that, honey. I’ll put it right here,” she said draping it over a hook on the wall. “You new here? Not from that school are you? Noticed your hair,” she said handing her a menu.

“My hair?”

“Actually, your bun—complete giveaway. Around here, girls your age wouldn't be caught dead wearing one. No offense or anything. They prefer something more provocative and sexy looking. Personally, I think you look that way without trying, and that's the best way to be,” she finished, a huge grin flashing across her winsome face.

Taking an instant liking to the woman, not only did she know the right things to say, she went out of her way to say them. It was just what she needed to bust out of her doldrums. A smile the size of the Grand Canyon erased any traces of sadness from her face.

“There, that's better!” Bonnie continued. “You were looking like you lost your best friend or something.”

Peering out the large picture window, the school shuttle passed by.

“Something like that,” she mumbled, not wanting to explain. Digging open the menu, she eagerly perused the tempting fare. Settling on a burger and fries, she ordered a large cola to wash it down. Needing all the fortification she could, there was a mile walk ahead.

Wrapping herself in the ambience, it felt good to just sit down and take a load off. The warmth from the heater, the open grill, and casually dressed patrons all fed into a cozy, homespun type of charm. Digging in, the food was even better than Velofsky’s. Barely stopping to breath, she inhaled the meal.

“Say, I thought you girls didn't eat?” Bonnie asked, checking in to see if she needed anything else.

“Yeah, that's the rumor we started,” she joked. Wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin, she removed any traces of ketchup that she’d drenched her French fries in. “Makes unsuspecting dates think they're getting off easy.”

“Gorgeous, and with a sense of humor. Well, you just shout out if you want seconds of anything, but don't fill up too much. Manny makes the most awesome desserts. It's how I got like this,” she said patting her slightly protruding stomach.

“Aw, you look fine.”

“And sweet! My, somebody sure raised you right, honey,” she quipped, heading to one of the other customers needing attention.

Not my mom
, Melissa wanted to answer. Taking a few gulps of soda instead, she spotted a young man over the rim of her glass. Their eyes meeting briefly, after a few seconds he returned to gazing into his cup of coffee.

A lot more than cute, he was outright handsome. Possibly a college student, his light brown hair was clipped short. His sparkling hazel eyes compelling, he exuded reliability and confidence.

Against her better judgment, she ordered a huge piece of devil's food cake. Covered in scads of deep dark chocolate frosting, the concoction made her toes curl. While she was lucky in not having to count calories, this meal was entering dangerous territory. Catching herself, what difference did it make? Since she was never going to get a real role, she doubted anyone would be able to tell what she looked like in a rat costume.

A look at the clock told her that she'd stayed way too long at the party. Even her handsome prince had left. Approaching 9:30, it was the time the last bus left. The waltz from Cinderella playing in her head, she paid her bill, asking Bonnie for directions to the bus stop. Explaining there was one across the street, Missy scampered across the deserted roadway. Waiting a few minutes, the bus pulled up, only a few people dotting the double seats. She took a seat in the back.

Indulging in watching the scenery, she slipped into the rhythm of Holybrook. The ride was giving her time to think—too much time. She regretted having that fight with Collette, but was even sorrier that her friend hadn't supported her. Wondering why she’d blown-up, it wasn't like her to be moaning about things she couldn’t change.

Shaking her head, she came out of her shell. Only one passenger left, all the rest had departed. So locked in her thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed, they were well out of the city. Traveling on a dark stretch of highway, it was surrounded by those woods. The sun had set hours ago, but then light had a short shelf life in autumn. The lack of illumination made the forest appear even more ominous at night.

She’d been so stupid not to not call a cab. Not in the mood for a long trek, it would have been so nice to curl up in the back seat and be dropped off at her destination. 

Her stop was directly ahead. She bundled up, waiting at the back door. The driver spotted her tiny frame in his mirror. A fearsome blast of snoring came from the remaining passenger. Knocked out cold, he was dreaming dreams meant only for him. Feeling decidedly nervous, she’d never anticipated someone else getting off with her.

“Don't worry about Tom.”

The low booming voice getting her attention, she looked up to see the bus driver smiling at her.

“What?” she asked, as the bus rolled to a stop.

“Tom … the guy sleeping. Don’t worry about him. He’s my cousin and goes home with me every night,” he explained, flipping on an 'out of service' sign.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she pushed in the back door. “Thanks.”