Black Adagio (7 page)

Read Black Adagio Online

Authors: Wendy Potocki

“But you've already been selected? Does that mean you made the company?” Collette pressed. Brandi pursed her lips together, trying to squelch the good news. Afraid she’d burst, she let it out.

“Yes!”

Melissa and Collette stared at one another in amazement, Melissa mouthing, “
She made it?”
to the gaping Collette. Both were stunned at the very strange decision. They scrambled to say anything nice. 

“Th-that's really great,” Melissa stuttered.

“Yeah,” Collette agreed. Holding back her real sentiments, she tried to make sense of a completely talentless girl being chosen to be a member of the company. She’d been certain that Brandi would be cut, but quickly warmed up to the idea of her being selected. After all, Brandi was a friend, and a friend just got the best news of their entire lives. “Congrats, Brandi. I'm so happy for you. Really,” she said hugging the wide-eyed girl, now shivering from the cold.

“Thanks,” she said, pushing strands of her long blonde hair away from her face.

“Merde from me also,” Melissa added, embracing the girl that she was growing to dislike more each day. So many things about her that didn't make any sense, this was just the frosting on the cake.

Walking in silence, a wide smile remained on Brandi's face, while Melissa and Collette's faces only reflected confusion. Missy suddenly stopped in her tracks. Glancing around, she was getting that disturbing feeling again. The eerie feeling of being watched only worsening the longer she was at Velofsky’s, it came on especially strong when she was practicing in the empty studio. Last night, she'd been so spooked that she almost started screaming.

“You two ever feel anything weird?”

“What do you mean
weird
?” asked Collette.

“Oh, I don't know. Like a strange feeling ... when you're dancing ... or like now?”

“What are you babbling about?” Brandi's turn to be confused, her attractive features were drizzled with irritation. 

“I'm talking about when you’re in the school.”

“But we're out of the school, or haven't you noticed,” she countered. Brandi’s lips trembling, her teeth chattered slightly from the cold. With only a sweatshirt on, she wasn't dressed for the weather. 

The newest member of the ballet company was really getting on her nerves. Melissa rolled her eyes.

“Duh? Don't you think I know that?”

“Well, that's not what you said!” the ditzy blonde blasted, getting frustrated at bearing the brunt of her friend’s sarcasm.

“You did say it, Melissa,” Collette slid in, bolstering Brandi's contention.

“Okay, I'm sorry I got snippy. I'm talking about the feeling of someone watching. It mostly happens when I'm inside, but it happens outside, too. Like the day we arrived … when we went into the field. And now—it feels like someone is staring at me. From inside there,” she said, pointing towards the remodeled estate.

Collette and Brandi exchanged glances. Brandi flicked her shoulder-length hair back from her brow.

“Personally, I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I gotta agree,” Collette responded. “I don't feel a thing. And why would someone watching us really be that strange? I mean, we are students, and they're supposed to be keeping an eye on us. It's why we have that security guard on duty at night. Unless you're talking about some creepo with binoculars getting his jollies off watching us frolic around in the leaves,” she said, kicking a pile with her sneakered foot. The leaves rose up in the air, coming down in a flurry that elicited giggles from Brandi.

“Forget it,” Melissa lashed, angry at her friends for invalidating her intuition, but more angry at herself for broaching the subject.

“Hey, I just asked a question!” Collette shot. Not understanding why Melissa was getting so upset, no one was watching them. No one that wasn't supposed to be, anyway.

“Whatever,” Melissa bristled, crossing her arms. 

“So than you do think it's a perv?” Brandi pressed.

“I don't know, but obviously I wouldn't since I said it's just a feeling!” she repeated.

“Hey, is that him over there?” Collette cried out. Pointing, her face took on a look of horror. “Oh, my God! It is! And he’s got a knife!”

Quickly turning, Melissa looked to where she was pointing. Seeing only trees and miles of empty landscape, the titter of laughter told her that she’d been had. Grabbing her hips, she was angry about being tricked. Swiveling back around, she was treated to a handful of dried leaves thrown in her face.

Collette’s aim true, Missy’s fit of temper disappeared. Responding with an attack of her own, she bent over, scooping up an armful of ammunition.

“Oh, so you want to play?” she screamed, giving chase to a squealing Collette who was hightailing it along the rim of the woods. Catching her easily, Collette bobbed, doing her best to avert the inevitable. Not able to evade the attack, she was hit squarely between the eyes. Collette roared with laughter, Brandi joining in the fun with a series of squeals.

The leaf fight begun, the three girls pelted each other until spent. Collapsing on the ground, they continued the brawl, until Brandi's body started to shiver.

“Look, I'm sorry I blew up before,” Melissa apologized, rising and brushing the leaves from her hair and clothing. “Now let's get back before a certain little ballerina turns blue as a smurf!” Pulling Brandi up by her long, slender arms, she helped her clean off. Slipping her hand around Brandi's waist, her roommate linked her arm through Collette's.

“Hey, let's go get some hot chocolate!” Brandi suggested. “And just let that creepo peepo watch that!”

The three took off, hurrying towards the warmth of the sheltering lodge. Outlines of their slender bodies left in the dried leaves, a chill wind began to blow, removing all traces that they were ever there.

Chapter Seven

 

“Aw, come on! We got you this far,” Brandi urged, tugging at Melissa's oversized sweatshirt.

Still not certain why she’d given into Brandi and Collette’s insistent pleadings, she’d reluctantly agreed to join them at the wicked witch's table for dinner. Why they were so eager to be handmaidens to the diabolical Zoe, she didn't know. It could just be that evil held a special attraction.

“Hey, you're gonna stretch it out!” she warned. The old top already falling apart, it looked as if a stiff breeze could unravel it, Brandi didn’t get the humor, immediately ceasing her birdlike fingering. “I'm kidding,” Melissa whispered, her hands going on either side of her roomie’s very sweet face.

With a wry grin, Missy marched into the cafeteria, softly singing the lyrics to “
The
Man of La Mancha.”
Her antics more than amused Collette who hummed right along. The trio settled on the dinner special, but only Melissa requested a double portion of mashed potatoes and hot apple pie a la mode. That done, the rendition of the Broadway show tune resumed, only halting when Melissa rested her tray on Zoe's table.

“Hi, you must be Zoe,” Melissa greeted, extending her hand. “My name is Melissa. Melissa Solange, but my friends call me Missy.

Doing a double take, Zoe rotated her head in either direction to take in her two constant companions’ reactions. Gretchen and Rob merely shook their heads, laughing at what they assumed was a show of early senility.

“Meh, I believe we already met ... duh?” Zoe quipped. Lazily turning away, the last word was punctuated with the outburst of giggles from her cohorts.

“No,” Missy negated, “This is the first time we’ve met. It's only right since we're making a new start, right?” Cocking her head, she lifted an eyebrow.

“R-i-g-h-t!” Zoe drawled,
the rationale finally sinking in. Shaking Melissa's hand, she gave what could pass as a genuine smile.

“Very glad to meet you Melissa. I am Zoe Ryan, and these are my two friends, Robert Meleon and Gretchen Stowd.

Rob and Gretchen both joined in the silly game, jovially offering salutations. A lively discussion sputtering forth, conversation was convivial and surprisingly easy during dinner. Not a hint of tension, there was only an occasional beep on Melissa's phony meter. The hiccups forced her to take a reality check. Much preferring for the world to be one big, happy family, she deluded herself into believing that it could work.

“Collette, what on earth happened to your roommate?” Zoe inquired. Changing the subject, Melissa listened while measuring the right amount of ice cream for her bite of pie. The dessert was beyond delicious and put the perfect capper on the great meal.

“Christina? Don't know. The office only said she was a bit delayed.”

“Are you sure you didn't off her?” Gretchen asked, her freckled face wrinkling into a poison-laced expression. “Aw, come on! You can tell us! Was she too much competition? Or just thin?”

Another slam at Collette's weight, it was none too subtle. Sighing heavily, Missy dropped her fork, letting it clank against her plate.

“What? What the hell’s gotten into you,” Zoe demanded, disingenuous as ever. Knowing damned well why she was upset, Missy patted Collette’s hand. Firing a dirty look at Brandi, her roommate slumped down to avoid being damaged by the blast.

“Hey, well, will you look at that! Company! The kind you want staying long after dinner—and overnight,” Rob cooed, lasciviously smiling like a man sneaking a peek up a tutu.

All turning to view a stunning, light-skinned African American, her shoulder length hair was wicked back by a barrette. Her body displaying a perfect proportion, it was the type demanded by the unrelenting art form. Her long limbs accentuated the width of her shoulders, her back narrowing into a waist as firm as a military-made bed. Her dark brown eyes took in her surroundings. It didn’t take long to see where the line started. Sauntering over to it, the rippling muscles of her lithe legs made it seem performance worthy.

“I wonder ...” Zoe mused.

“Wonder what?” Brandi asked, wistfully watching Melissa demolish the rich dessert.

“Whether ...” Zoe started.

“... it's my roommate?” Collette finished, happily starting to fidget. “I'll bet it is, Christina! I think I'll go over and see. If you'll excuse me,” she said, pushing away from the table. Rushing to the young girl, it wasn't long before Collette yelled excitedly, a very animated conversation ensuing.

“I guess it's Christina alright,” Melissa drolly observed, taking her last bite. Meting out just the right amounts, she ended up with a dollop of ice cream to wash down the crumb topping.

“Hmmm, I wonder?” Zoe asked, the non-sequitur hanging in the air like a water balloon.

“Wonder what?” Gretchen asked.

Half-paying attention, Melissa began fiddling with the placement of her dirty dishes. Hating anything slovenly stacked, she didn’t care if they were only going to be washed.

“Whether it was her watching.” The bullet whizzing over Melissa's head, she hadn’t been so distracted as to not notice it had been fired. “So Missy, do you think that she’s the one who’s been watching you?” Zoe taunted. “I mean, she could have been hiding under the eaves of the roof, or in the basement.” Raucous laughter breaking out amongst her minions, Melissa's ebony eyes drilled into the callous girl. “Or maybe, she's paranoid enough to think that she’s being watched, too! Yes, that must be it! Let’s go ask! If she says yes, it’ll mean that you’ll have some company in that loony bin that they're going to send you to!”

Hilarity breaking out, it spilled into the four corners of the enormous hall. Humiliated, the remarks left Melissa to search for a reason as to why she'd put herself into the position of being victimized. It didn't take long to find an answer—it was because of her dear, sweet roommate.

Swiveling her head, she flashed Brandi another hostile grimace. Rising, she marched away.

“Hey, Missy, where you going?” shouted Collette.

She was so angry that she didn't even turn to acknowledge the query. Stacking her tray on the metal stand, she rushed out into the hall. Running to the staircase, the brush fire inside was consuming reason. She rubbed her temples, wondering why she would disregard her own instincts. It was completely futile to override things you already knew, but she was always so willing to give people a second chance. It was what she'd done with her mother, and by endlessly repeating the pattern, she kept being stabbed through the heart over and over again.

Staring down, she rushed headlong into a man. Vaguely familiar, she’d seen him after her sessions in the unused studio. The route forcing her to pass Una’s office, she’d seen him in it, talking to the artistic director and
Anna. In his thirties, he was a handsome man. Obviously a dancer or former one, his legs were lean and muscular, but it was his carriage that gave away his pedigree. The first good look she'd gotten of him, she was intrigued by what she saw. An air of mystery to him, he was the type of man that should be wearing a cape. Possessing an awe-inspiring presence, his gorgeous blue eyes were brimming with humor, his, thick, wiry leonine hair framing his square-jawed face the way peanut butter goes with jelly.

Slamming on his brakes, the man easily avoided disaster by stopping on a dime. Glancing at her, he smiled, moving nimbly on his way. Raising the collar of his navy blue pea coat to fend off the frigid air, he exited into the night.

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