Chapter Thirty
“You were awesome, Becca!”
“That was amazing!”
“Wow, great job!”
One after another—friends, family, cast members, classmates, and teachers—all came up to offer Rebecca their congratulations. The play was an undeniable victory. She had succeeded beyond her wildest dreams. It was an amazing feeling. A buzz that she thought she would never come down from. And all she wanted was to share those feelings of accomplishment with Justyn. She wanted to celebrate with him. After all, it was his triumph every bit as much as it was hers.
“Would you hurry up and get out of that dress? Everyone’s waiting for us downstairs at the party.”
Debbie tapped her foot impatiently as Rebecca set her garden of flowers down on the dressing table. She noted the excited flush of her cheeks in the mirror’s reflection. It was such a refreshing change from the peaked thing she had seen looking back at her just a few short hours ago.
“Help me get out of this thing?” she asked Debbie.
It was impossible for her to reach all the snaps and buttons in the back of the elaborate white wedding gown she had worn for the final scene. It took Debbie a good five minutes. Finally, the puffy dress slipped to the ground, and Rebecca quickly stepped out of it. She was happy to be back in the casual jeans and sweater she had arrived in, even though they clashed with her excess of make-up and elegantly curled and pinned hair.
“Ready,” she announced.
She grabbed her handbag and was just about to head downstairs with Debbie when she noticed a card sitting on her dressing table. It was in a dark red envelope, addressed to her in fancy silver letters. She picked it up and turned it over curiously. She wondered who it might be from, but she couldn’t help feeling the tiniest bit of dread as she examined it. The handwriting wasn’t the perfect calligraphy of her stalker, but it didn’t look familiar either. Inside was a single sheet of paper, the same shade of blood red as the envelope, with just a few simple lines scrawled in the same fancy silver writing.
“Meet me behind the stage at midnight—the witching hour.
All My Love, O. G.”
O. G. The opera ghost. It had to be Justyn. The note had his flair for the dramatic. And there was no hint of a threat, like there had been with the other notes, the ones from whoever was trying to scare her away from the play. She knew she would be there at midnight on the dot before she could even fold the note back into the envelope. In fact, she was extremely disappointed when she looked at her watch and realized it was only ten thirty. An hour and a half seemed like a lifetime when all she really wanted was some time alone with Justyn.
“What are you doing?” Debbie complained. “Come on! The party will be over before we get there.”
“Okay, okay. I’m coming.”
Rebecca left the note and her flowers behind. There would be plenty of time to retrieve them later, and plenty of time for her and Justyn to have their privacy. But for now, Debbie was right. She had to get down to the cafeteria and at least put in an appearance at the celebration. If she were lucky, Justyn would be down there anyway.
They had shuffled about halfway down the hallway when they bumped into Tom. He was still in costume, looking dashing in the fancy tailored suit of the French count. He gave her a wide smile when he saw her. It was so good to see that familiar, boyish grin. Rebecca couldn’t help but smile back.
“Hey, guys,” he exclaimed. “Great show, huh?”
“The best.” Debbie agreed heartily.
“You were terrific, Tom,” Rebecca told him. “It’s easy to work beside you.”
“Thanks. But you were the real star tonight, Bec.” He gushed. “All I can say is . . . Wow! You were unbelievable. Really.”
Rebecca blushed. “Thanks,” she said. Then she paused for a minute, wanting to say so many things but not sure where to start. Finally, she decided to just keep things simple and honest. “Tom, listen, I want to apologize . . . .”
He shook his head, and cut her off in mid-sentence. “Nothing for you to apologize about. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“That’s very generous of you. But, Tom . . . .”
“No, really, Becca. You can’t help who you care about. I wish it could have been me.” He gave her a sad look of longing, and then shrugged his shoulders. “But it’s not, and that’s okay. I can deal with it. And I understand. I just hope Justyn knows how lucky he is.”
She eyed him a little suspiciously. It all seemed a little too good, and too easy to be true. There had to be a catch. “And we’re still friends?”
“Always.” He reached out to give her an awkward hug. “Listen, I’ll catch you guys later, okay? I need to get out of this monkey suit.”
“I know the feeling. I’m glad that we live in the twenty-first century.” Rebecca laughed. “We’ll see you downstairs.”
“See you later, Tom,” Debbie echoed. Then she turned back to Rebecca as they made their second attempt to get down to the cafeteria. “See that, Becca. Didn’t I tell you everything would work itself out? It looks like you’re about to get everything you always wanted.”
“It does seem that way,” Rebecca said, a little tentatively.
She felt herself inadvertently shudder. Things were just a little too good to be true. Maybe this was the calm before the storm. Then she shook her head and silently chided herself for the pessimistic thoughts. She should sit back and enjoy the ride. Things were perfect. She just needed to accept it.
Well, things were almost perfect. As soon as she walked into the cafeteria, she locked eyes with Carmen. Her former best friend flicked her hair behind her shoulders, and gave Rebecca one long, dirty look. Then she turned on her heel to join the chatting chorus girls. Rebecca sighed. Things could never really be perfect when Carmen wasn’t speaking to her.
“I’ll go talk to her,” Debbie offered. “Maybe now that you and Tom have patched things up, Carmen will want to make up, too.”
“I sure hope so,” Rebecca began.
She was interrupted by a string of admirers who had just noticed her arrival. Before she knew what was happening, she was swept into the crowd. She lost sight of Debbie in the mayhem that followed. Dozens of people accosted her, offering compliments and congratulations. Not the least of which came from Miss King.
“Rebecca!” She gushed, when she had her alone. “You stole the show tonight with that performance. And I’m not the only one who thinks so. There was a talent scout in the audience! He was here for Justyn, but . . . where is that boy anyway? I swear he is completely impossible.”
Miss King scanned the room and Rebecca found herself following her line of vision. Justyn was absent from the party. Tom hadn’t shown up yet either, and even Wendy was missing. It seemed like most of the main cast members were M.I.A. The only person she could pick out easily was Carmen, and that was because she was glaring at her with such obvious loathing that it made her hard to miss.
“You aren’t going to believe this.” Miss King continued. “He wants to . . . but I’ll let him tell you himself.”
Miss King was doing everything but jumping up and down for joy. But Rebecca was a little confused. A talent scout? From where? And why would he want to talk to her if he had come to see Justyn?
“Mr. Pessagno. Here she is! Here’s our little starlet!”
Her director was already guiding her over to a middle-aged man who was surprisingly handsome for his years, so she didn’t have time to ask any questions. He was wearing a very expensive designer suit, and had an air of almost regal importance. His gray eyes were filled with kindness, and his smile was sincere as he reached out a hand in greeting.
“Ah, the illustrious Miss Hope,” he said. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
“Thank you . . . sir.” She was so nervous; she had already forgotten his name.
“I was extremely impressed with your performance tonight,” he told her. “Tell me, Rebecca, how long have you been taking singing lessons?”
Rebecca was surprised by the question. “Well I . . . I haven’t taken any lessons, actually.”
Now it was his turn to look surprised. To say he was flabbergasted would have been an understatement. Rebecca wondered if she had given him the wrong answer.
“A voice like that, and no lessons.” He seemed like he was talking to himself more than anyone else. “Well, well, Miss King. It seems we have a savant on our hands. Such amazing, raw talent. With the right training, imagine the potential.”
“She is amazing.” Miss King agreed enthusiastically. Rebecca was sure the teacher was fighting the urge to clap her hands.
“Well, Miss Hope, I want you to know that the New York School of Performing Arts will be offering you a full scholarship. I honestly hope that I’ll be seeing you next fall, you and your co-star, Mr. Patko.”
Rebecca felt her mouth drop open. The whole world tilted on its axis. If Miss King hadn’t chosen that exact moment to give her an excited hug, she might have fallen over. A full scholarship to the New York School of Performing Arts? That was more than she had ever allowed herself to hope for back when she had diligently practiced her violin day in and day out with no obvious improvements. She had never imagined her voice would take her where her fingers couldn’t. She had never dreamed she was that good. She had doubted that she was good at all.
And even better, even more miraculous, was that Justyn would be there too. She wouldn’t have to worry about what would happen to their blossoming relationship after graduation. They would be together. Maybe they would even have the chance to perform together again. She had just crossed the border from perfect happiness to complete euphoria.
“Rebecca, don’t you want to say something to Mr. Pessagno?” Miss King urged, then she laughed a little. “I think she’s in shock.”
He smiled good-naturedly. “I understand. It’s a lot to take in.”
“I’m . . . sorry,” Rebecca stuttered. “Thank you, Mr. Pessagno. Thank you so much for this amazing opportunity.”
“You’re very welcome,” he said. “Now, I’m sure there are other fans who need to offer their congratulations. I don’t want to monopolize your star, Miss King. But again, Rebecca, I truly look forward to seeing you next year and I hope I have the chance to work with you personally.”
“Thank you,” Rebecca whispered.
She was a little too shocked to say more, and before long she was overtaken by another tidal wave of supporters, this time including her teary-eyed mother, her grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. All of them were gushing with family pride. But Rebecca had trouble focusing on their heartfelt words of encouragement. She was too busy scanning the crowd for Justyn. Across the room, Miss King and Mr. Pessagno were apparently doing the same thing. Rebecca glanced at her watch and realized it was already a quarter to twelve. Justyn was probably waiting for her backstage. Rebecca excused herself from her family, deciding to seek him out before he missed his chance with the talent scout. And missed the chance for them to go to college together.
As she slipped through the cafeteria doors, she couldn’t help but notice Carmen. She was still watching, still staring at her, and obviously furious. Rebecca stopped for a second. She thought about going over and trying to smooth things over with her friend, and even took a tentative step in her direction. But Carmen made such a disgusted face that it stopped her cold in her tracks. She wasn’t ready to ruin the night with any nasty confrontations. Rebecca left things as they were with Carmen. She promised herself that she would have plenty of time to work things out later, and she went off in search of Justyn.