Silhouette (18 page)

Words swirl around me as I read it through twice, three times …
Confirmed. Dating. Couple.
They must have it wrong.

I should know, I saw Moss last night. We kissed.

My hands shake as I pull out my phone and select his name. It goes straight to voicemail. Damn. I swivel away from the computer, almost tripping over my bag, and see Paige and Izzy hovering to one side.

‘Scarlett,’ Izzy calls.

There’s nothing they can say. I reach for my bag and sling it over my shoulder as I stand up. ‘I’m going to see him. Cover for me?’

Paige blocks my path. ‘No, Scarlett! We’re doing our first full run-through.’

Tell me something I don’t know. ‘I’ll be back in time.’ Rehearsal doesn’t begin until after lunch. I slip past Paige.

She turns with me, calling out after me as she follows. ‘Don’t worry about him.
He’s not worth it
.’

I turn back so fast that Paige jolts to a stop. ‘He messed up, all right? But that doesn’t mean he’s not worth it.’

‘He’s going down on drug charges,’ says Izzy, head shaking.

‘So? You have no idea what kind of pressure he’s under!’ Even I’m surprised at the tone of my voice. ‘What right do you have to judge when you have no idea what he’s going through?’ At the sting in my tone, Izzy’s eyebrows go up. Paige looks hurt.

I head for the library exit without looking back. I’m out the door, along the corridor and down the front steps so fast that there’s no chance they’ll follow.

My hand shoots up for the first taxi I see.

SIXTEEN

As soon as the door opens at Moss’s place, I step through. ‘Is he alone? How is he?’

The housekeeper jerks back before regaining control. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘Mr Young isn’t taking any visitors. Wait here, please.’

Fat chance of that. I stride straight past.

‘I’m sorry, could you WAIT HERE PLEASE!’ calls the housekeeper from behind me.

There’s no way she can make me stop, but her yelling must be enough to wake Moss up. When I get to the living room, he’s pulling a dressing gown around his shoulders. Dark circles shadow his eyes.

The sight is enough to make me slow and all my scripted openings disappear. ‘What’s going on?’ is all that comes out.

Moss pulls a packet of cigarettes out of a chest pocket. ‘You saw the news? Don’t worry. My agent’s on damage control.’

For a moment I scan his face as he places a cigarette between his lips. The lighter clicks and flares.

‘So what’s really going on between you and Kitty Hudson?’ I say, voice even. ‘The news says that you’re a couple.’

Moss exhales a stream of smoke. He doesn’t even seem surprised. ‘Don’t worry about it. The media loves that kind of thing. It’s just a way of staying in people’s minds.’

‘But her publicist said you’d been dating
for some time
.’ Even as I hear the words come out I hate the way they sound.

Moss’s face turns dark. ‘Jesus, Scarlett! What do you expect? Her profile is even bigger than mine.’

‘So you just use her for her profile? Is that it?’

He throws his arms up. ‘I’ve had a hell of a night, and now you’re in my face about
this shit again
.’

‘Shit? Is that what this is to you?’ I’m losing it now, and I don’t care. I didn’t have anything here to start with. ‘What does Kitty say about me? Does she even know about us?’

‘Of course she knows about you. You’ve met before.’ But his eyes slide to the side, and I realise … I’m onto something.

Small things that once annoyed me now come to mind. The way Bruno reacted when I turned up backstage at the Dixie Bar. The way Moss stayed with his arm around Kitty at his producer’s party.

‘She doesn’t know about
us
, though, does she?’ My words come out small.
She doesn’t know about me.
All this time, I thought I was part of his life.

I’m just the one on the side.

‘Listen, babe. I need you to calm down about this. I’m under a lot of pressure.’

His words make me stop. Only a short while ago, I used them to defend him. ‘Don’t talk to me about pressure,’ I spit.

A couple of champagne glasses are on the coffee table nearby. Probably lipstick on one. I pick one up. ‘You think you’re so much more important than everyone else? You’re just a coward.’ With all my strength, I hurl the glass at Moss. ‘A coward and a CHEAT!’ I’m not expecting it to get anywhere close, but I’m a better aim than I thought. He ducks just in time before the glass shatters against the wall behind him.

Moss pops up again, facing at the wall. ‘What the hell?’

That felt good. I pick up the other glass, reaching back to throw again. But someone grabs the glass from behind and holds my arms against my body. I’m lifted off the ground.

Bruno. There’s no mistaking those muscles. I wriggle against them but it takes only a few seconds to realise that I have no chance.

But I’m not entirely helpless. I can make this difficult for him. ‘Let me go! Let me down!’ I scream, kicking and wriggling with all I have.

Moss watches, mouth open, as I’m carried out of the room.

‘Let me DOWN! Bruno, I mean it.’

We reach the kitchen and I expect that here, at least, he’ll let me down. But still my arms stayed pinned. Still Bruno says nothing.

In front of the walk-in pantry, Bruno releases my arms. At last. I turn to yell as Bruno opens the door and forces me inside. ‘Hey, what the?’ I struggle against him. Pointless really. Bruno wants me in the pantry, so this is where I go.

Cereal packets, muesli bars and bottles of mixers. We all get locked in the dark.

‘Bruno … let me
out
.’

‘Not yet.’ At least he’s finally talking. ‘When you calm down.’

‘I
am calm
.’

‘No, you’re not.’

It’s only the idea of proving him wrong that keeps me from swearing. I sink to the floor. What am I doing?

By the time the door opens, tears are falling. My face turns up to Bruno, standing above me. ‘I’m such an
idiot
.’

‘You’re not an idiot, you’re just seventeen.’ He gently pulls me up. ‘I’ll make a pot of tea.’

It’s so out of place that I don’t know what to say. I plonk myself on a stool and check the doorway. There’s no sign of Moss. Bruno scoops tea leaves into a pot and fills it with water from the kettle. Milk next, into each cup.

‘Sugar?’ he asks and I nod.

The tea tastes warm, mellow. It gives me focus. ‘I’m, ah … sorry I woke you up,’ I say after a while.

Bruno pours himself another cup.

‘You mustn’t have had much sleep,’ I say. Still no response, but I keep going. ‘Did you … get charged too?’

‘No.’ Bruno places his cup on the bench. ‘Learned my lesson long ago. I know my limits.’

‘Yeah,’ I mumble. I’m learning to find my limits too. I take another sip and check the clock. ‘Shit,’ I breathe. The cup isn’t empty, but I tip the rest in the sink.

‘What?’ asks Bruno.

‘I have to go.’ I step around the bench, before turning. ‘I’m meant to be at school, but … thanks.’

Bruno stands up, hand in pocket. ‘I’ll drive you if you want.’ Keys jangle in his hand.

Again, I glance at the clock. This took longer than I had planned. A lift could really save me.

Already, Bruno’s heading for the garage. ‘Come on.’

I follow him through a side door and out to a bright blue ute. Bruno opens the driver’s side while I slip into the passenger seat.

‘Take the Avenue and get off at Woodpark Road,’ I say.

Bruno grunts in acknowledgement, but doesn’t say more. I’m glad not to worry about small talk. All I have to do for now is sit there, feeling like a child next to Bruno. Watching his tattooed arm change through the gears.

What happened with Moss meant so much to me. It was obviously different for him. It hardly seems fair. I always wondered how my first time would be. Now I know how it ends.

‘This is it,’ I say, pointing when we reach the Academy. ‘You can pull up over here.’

Our bodies jerk slightly as the wheels turn, then again as they stop.

I click off the belt. ‘Thanks for … well, you know.’ I want to say more, but I’m not sure how to say it. I might not see Bruno again.

‘No worries, kid.’ He points his chin towards the steps. ‘Now go do your stuff.’

I glance at the huge Academy doors before turning back to him. ‘Yeah, thanks.’

Bruno doesn’t reply, but our eyes meet. It’s enough.

Then I’m out of the door and taking the steps three at a time. I’ll just have time to change and warm up before rehearsal, but no more.

As soon as the main doors shut, faint piano chords reach me from a ballet class down the hall. Sally is pressing buttons at reception as I pass. I’m ready with a smile, but she doesn’t glance up. I’m a few steps away when I hear her hushed voice behind me: ‘Yes. She just came in.’

As I turn the corner I see Paige and Izzy huddled together in front of my locker, talking quickly with heads close.

‘Hey!’ I call from halfway up the corridor. They look up and just stare. I’m only a few steps closer when I hear Jack behind me.

‘Scarlett.’

The hardness of his tone makes me stop. Slowly, I turn.

Jack has his arms crossed. I see veins sticking out against his red neck. I glance at the others for any last clues. What reason did they give for why I was gone? But they’ve both shrunk back, their eyes on Jack. Paige has her hands over her mouth.

‘Now, Scarlett!’ snaps Jack. ‘Mr Winchester’s office.’

I do as I’m told.

Jack strides straight towards the office with me almost running to keep up. He walks in without knocking and stands beside the desk, arms crossed and eyes straight ahead. Second in command.

Mr Winchester looks up, phone against ear. ‘I’ll have to call you back. Yes. Thank you.’

No-one has asked me to sit but I do anyway, on the very edge of the chair with my back straight. I’ll just explain what I was doing.

For a moment, Mr Winchester considers me, elbows on the desk and hands locked together. His breathing is slow, and when he speaks I sense anger burning beneath the surface, and his effort to keep it controlled.

‘Scarlett, it seems that your relationship with Moss Young is causing some …
problems
for the Academy.’

This isn’t what I was expecting. Quickly I glance at Jack to read his expression, but he keeps his eyes straight ahead, arms still crossed. ‘I … it’s okay,’ I begin. ‘You don’t need to worry. There’s no
relationship
with Moss Young.’

‘His name is on the VIP list for closing night,’ says Mr Winchester.

Already, my head’s shaking. ‘He won’t be coming. That’s where I was this morning. It’s all finished.’

‘That may well be true but the media is all over this, Scarlett. I received a call from a reporter this morning, asking questions.’

There’s not much I can say to that, so I don’t. I can tell that he’s playing with me, trying to make me scared. One last tug on my puppet strings before opening night.

‘Of course I set the reporter straight. This Academy is run with the utmost professionalism. Even a hint of bad behaviour is dealt with zero tolerance.’

‘Yes, of course.’ I nod agreeably, playing the game.

There’s a pause while Mr Winchester watches my reaction for any hint of doubt or fear. I don’t give him the satisfaction.

‘After the reporter called, I made some enquiries of my own,’ says Mr Winchester. ‘Is there anything you want to tell me, Scarlett?’

‘Sorry?’ I glance again at Jack, panic starting to creep in.

Mr Winchester stands and walks to the window. His movements are contained but deliberate. ‘I like to think that I’m on top of everything at this Academy,’ he says quietly. ‘Goodness knows that I keep an eye on small problems and try to catch them before they become big ones. But I have to say that I didn’t see this one coming. I consider this my own failure as much as anyone else’s.’

I’m aware of Jack’s eyes on me. All I can do is shake my head, confused. Tightness returns to his expression and he looks away.

Mr Winchester faces me. ‘Scarlett, we have an eyewitness who claims to have seen you in the possession of drugs.’

‘What? No!’ Surprise and disbelief burst out. That night at the Dixie Bar. How could Grant do this?

‘Are you saying that you dispute this account?’

‘Yes, yes … of course!’ I look to Jack, pleading for help, understanding. It was only one time.

‘This is a very serious matter, Scarlett. For you and for the Academy. Do you understand what I’m saying? Drug use is punishable by suspension at the very least.’

‘Of course, yes, I understand.’ Part of me just wants to find Grant and slap him in the face.
How could you?
But first I have to deal with the fireworks in front of me. ‘Look, the … eyewitness who says he saw me with drugs, he’s just worried about me. That’s all.’ I look from Mr Winchester to Jack. ‘I spend six days a week rehearsing …’

Jack is watching me now, one eyebrow raised.

‘Do you really think I’d be able to do that if I was taking
drugs
? Don’t you think it would have affected my dancing?’ They’re watching me and listening. ‘Why would I risk messing this up? This is my
life
.’

‘Yes,’ says Mr Winchester. ‘This is your life, Scarlett. That’s why we’re taking this so seriously.’

Jack places his hands on the table. ‘We have to be sure, Oscar. It’s just one student’s word against another. We need to organise a test. At least give her a chance to clear her name.’

Jack turns to me. ‘Will you agree to a drug test?’

One tablet, weeks ago. Would it still be in my system?

In the seconds it takes me to consider, Jack’s expression changes. His lips part and his eyebrows pinch.

‘Scarlett …’ Jack’s tone falls with disappointment.

‘I …’ What can I say? ‘It was only one time. Sort of. But that’s all over. I’m not doing that anymore.’

There’s an awful pause where Jack just shakes his head. He turns to Mr Winchester. ‘Paige will have to take the lead,’ he murmurs.

‘No!’ I’m out of my chair.

‘Yes,’ says Mr Winchester and picks up the phone. ‘I’ll organise a media statement.’