The Devil of DiRisio

by Leslie DuBois

  Will took out his cell phone and started dialing as he followed the trail of blood out the door to the hallway. I was so glad he had come along. I wouldn’t have known what to do. I would have stood there frozen, immobile, and zombie like, exactly as I was doing now.

  Then I heard the bathroom door open and then Will yelled, “Oh my God!” I got up, ran into the hallway and saw Will standing outside the bathroom door covering his eyes. “They’re in there,” he said with his head down pointing to the bathroom.

  “Oh my God!” I yelled once I opened the door and looked in. Raffaele was stark naked and leaning over Anna Marie as he washed her hair in the sink. As he washed her red hair. He was dyeing her hair. I closed the door and shut my eyes tight, trying to block out the image of Raffaele’s skinny pale white butt. I looked at Will laughing hysterically. Cynthia cursed in French and slammed her door in annoyance. Seconds later, Anna Marie and Raffaele emerged covering themselves in red stained towels.

  “I’m a redhead now!” Anna Marie exclaimed. I stared at her dumbfounded. “Do you like it?” she asked innocently. I didn’t respond. She took my silence to mean that I was upset with her. She probably thought I was pissed about the mess she left in our room. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up. I dropped a bottle of the dye because I didn’t understand that he wanted me to hold it for him.” Will was still laughing uncontrollably as I continued to stare at her. Raffaele then felt he needed to explain.

  He told me that he had five older sisters and that they taught him everything he knows about fashion and beauty. When he saw Maria’s beautiful complexion he knew that brown hair didn’t suit her. She needed to be a redhead to reflect her vibrant personality. So they went to the store and bought some hair dye. It took him two hours to try to explain to her what he wanted to do because she didn’t speak Italian.

  But he was sure his Maria would be pleased with the results. If not, he could fix it. But she had to at least give it a chance. Now he wanted to dry it and style it for her and possibly add some highlights. He loved doing things like this even though his father detested his aptitude for style. His father was a judge and had been so happy when he finally had a son so that someone could follow in his footsteps. He’d tried to live up to what his father wanted him to be, he had even enrolled in law school, but it was so boring to him he couldn’t finish.

  Finally, he quit and became a bartender as he supported himself through fashion school. Bartending was great. He got to meet so many fascinating people. In fact, it was how he met Maria. Finally, I had to interrupt his rambling.

  “Who is Maria?” I asked Anna Marie.

  “Oh, I think that’s me,” Anna Marie said pointing to herself. “Maria? Maria?” Raffaele smiled and kissed her passionately, losing his grip on his towel. Will, who had stopped laughing during Raffaele’s speech in order to concentrate and try to understand a word here or there, quickly covered his eyes again trying to avoid Raffaele’s nakedness.

  I sighed and shook my head. “He doesn’t even know your name.”

  “Maria is close enough.” Then Raffaele started repeating her name and leading her to the bedroom while muttering in Italian. “What is he saying?” she asked.

  “He says he’s not done with you. He wants to cut and style your hair and make you even more beautiful than you already are.” Anna Marie squealed and started jumping up and down splashing me with her wet hair. Then she grabbed her naked boyfriend and flew into our room closing the door swiftly behind her.

  “Anna Marie, I need my clothes for class,” I yelled as I pounded on the door. She opened the door just wide enough to push my dance bag through then shut it again.

  Will, who at some point fell to the ground with laughter, stood up, put his arm around me, and said, “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

  ***

  “Shouldn’t you be off to study for Chemistry now?” Anna Marie asked as she packed up her dance bag. We were both in the corp for the second act of the next performance so we took a few minutes after dinner to rehearse together.

  I rolled my eyes and kept doing my balancés across the floor. “Probably.”

  “Probably? I think definitely. Prof. Calabria is doing you a huge favor by letting you make up for your three previous failing grades with this test tomorrow.”

  I knew she was right. Failing this test would all but guarantee that I would fail the class. I’d known that all week, but that knowledge still hadn’t motivated me to sit down and go over my notes, or the study sheet Prof. Calabria made for me, or to call my tutor and beg for one more review session.

  “You really shouldn’t take this second, well, fourth chance lightly. It may be your last,” Anna Marie added.

  “God, Anna Marie, do you have to constantly remind me of what a failure I am?” I yelled with tears burning behind my eyes. I went to the bar and faced away from her so that she wouldn’t see how much I wanted to cry. “I’m stupid. I know this. It’s been proven time and time again.”

  “I didn’t mean –”

  “No, I know what you mean, okay? I know you’re just trying to help, but there is no help. No matter what I do, I’m gonna fail tomorrow. So, I’d rather just spend the evening doing what I love, doing what I came to Italy to do. I’d rather just dance.”

  Anna Marie sighed then left the room without trying to convince me further. I wondered if she, too, felt that it would be my last week at the Academy. Considering the situation I was in, even a passing grade in Chemistry wouldn’t help.

  Let’s say by some miracle I passed the stupid test. I would still look like a fool on stage dancing with Pierre in our next performance and still get asked to leave the Academy. What was worse was that Antonia Lyn, principal dancer with the DiRisio Company, was ending her contract and looking to move on. So, talent scouts and company directors from all over Europe would be at this performance seeking her out to offer her a new contract. Not only would I look ridiculous in front of the standard Italian crowd, Pierre would probably drop me and ruin my image, career, and reputation in front of the most influential dancers in the world. I shivered with anger just thinking about it. I could live with getting kicked out of the academy for poor grades, but I refused to go out looking like a second-rate artist.

  I went through the choreography and improvised through the lifts as if the routine didn’t call for a partner. It actually didn’t look too horrible. Maybe Pierre would get hit by a bus and I would have to perform alone. I know that was an evil thought and I wouldn’t want him to die or anything; maybe he could just get incapacitated enough to never dance again.

  I could even picture the bus accident. Pierre would be crossing the street twirling a lock of his dark curly hair around his finger. Then he would see his reflection in the window of an oncoming bus and be so mesmerized by his own beauty he wouldn’t think to move. A slow evil grin crept across my face, but I quickly shook it off and went back to rehearsing.

  I got home to Will’s place well after two in the morning to find Sasha sitting in the living room.

  “What are you doing up?” I asked.

  “I was waiting for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was going through your school books and what I found was quite disturbing.” I instantly recognized Sasha’s ‘you’re a moron so I’m going to talk to you like a child’ tone and headed for my bedroom. She followed me. “You can walk away from me, but you can’t walk away from this,” she said holding up the letter from Alejandro.

  I turned and snatched the letter out of her hand. “How dare you go through my things,” I said through clenched teeth. Sasha’s eyes flared in shock for a moment. She had never seen me so angry. For a split second, she may have genuinely regretted going through my things. What she didn’t realize was that I wasn’t angry that she had invaded my privacy, okay, maybe I was a little angry about that, but I was more embarrassed than angry that she knew I was flunking out of school. She now knew that I couldn’t make it without her. She knew that I needed
her to help me write my papers and force me to study like she did while we were at Bridgeton. I hated her knowing how much I needed her.

  Sasha’s fundamental arrogance quickly eclipsed her momentary remorse as she said, “Don’t get mad at me because you can’t handle your classes. You see, this is just proof that I’m the one that helped you get through Bridgeton.”

  “You’re also the one that got me expelled from Bridgeton!” My words came out with more force than a slap to the face. Sasha actually stepped back and looked away from me. Was that a look of guilt I saw? Maybe my sister had changed.

  “I guess I deserved that.”

  I dropped my dance bag on the floor, plopped on the bed, and, with my head in my hands, started bawling. I cried because I was getting kicked out of the place I’d dreamed about coming to for years, I cried because I was slipping further away from my dream of being a world famous dancer, but most of all I cried because the sister I’d dreamed about coming back to me would never be the same sister again. We would never be as close as we were when we were kids. Even though I said I forgave her, I could never forget what she had done to me.

  Sasha sat next to me and put her arm around me. “Let me help you, Sweetie. Let me make up for all the terrible things I did.”

  “There’s nothing you can do. It’s too late.”

  “No, it’s not. I’ve been working on this all day.” She spread some sheets of paper out on the coffee table with my different courses and my grades. “You’re doing great in English, American History, Spanish Literature, and Italian. You’re suffering in Chemistry and Math. I’m nearly an expert in those subjects. I took AP Chem and AP Calculus last year. There are still three weeks left in the semester so, tomorrow, I’ll go to your teachers and negotiate a restructuring of your grade. I’m thinking I can talk them into letting you do a project and a final test, both of which I can coach you through. I guarantee, you’ll pass.”

  “Sasha, you’ve been in this country for less than a week, you don’t speak Italian, and you have never met these people before in your life. What makes you think you can convince them to do anything?”

  She cocked her head to one side kind of like a confused puppy and said, “I’m Sasha Garrison. I had an entire school of 1300 teachers and students eating out of the palm of my hand, believing what I wanted them to believe and doing what I wanted them to do for three years. I think I can handle two inconsequential Italian professors.”

  Even though my sister’s attitude scared me a little, I truly wished I had an ounce of her confidence.

  Hours later, I awoke to my cell phone vibrating on the nightstand. I flipped it open to find a text from Will:

  Its 7 am wake up 4 chem. GL. I luv u, angl

  I’d forgotten how sweet Will could be. He was all the way in Reykjavik, yet he still called to remind me of my test and wish me good luck. Wait a minute, Reykjavik. If it was seven a.m. in Reykjavik, it was nine a.m. in Rome. Had Will forgotten the time difference? I checked the time on phone. Dear God, he did forget! The test started at eight which meant it was more than half over. I jumped out of bed, put on my sneakers and ran out of the house without even changing out of my bed clothes.

  Thirty-five minutes later, I arrived at DiRisio’s library gasping for air and completely sweating through my pink piggy pajamas, just in time to see Sasha walking out all smiles.

  “Sasha…what…,” I panted.

  “Sasha, hi. You came to support me. How sweet,” she said loudly. Too loudly.

  “Why… are … you … ”

  “Oh my God, did you run all the way here? You are so crazy, Sasha. I know you’re new in the country and don’t speak the language or anything but I would have called you a cab if you just asked.” Sasha smiled, waved at Pierre, then called out “See you at the show tonight.”

  For a second I couldn’t figure out why she was calling me Sasha and waving to Pierre like she knew him. Then it hit me. “Oh my God, please tell me you didn’t.”

  Sasha shushed me while dragging me away from the building. “I had to,” Sasha said when we were a safe distance away. “I tried to reason with Ms. Calabarbie or Calabrady or whatever the hell her name is and she just wouldn’t listen. She said she had already been as flexible as possible and that there was nothing else she could do. But then she handed me a test and told me to take a seat. The whole time, she thought I was you.”

  “Oh my God, Sasha, what have you done?” I moaned while pacing in a small circle around myself. “What if we get caught, huh? Then what? You’re gonna get me kicked out of two schools in one year. Oh my God, oh my God.” My pulse, which hadn’t calmed down from all the running, started to pick up even faster. I thought I might hyperventilate as I tried to control my breathing.

  “Would you relax? I was here early, before anyone else. I sat in the back and waited till everyone left before I turned my, well, your test in. I’m sure no one even noticed me.” I continued pacing still in shock that she would do something like this. I might be overweight and stupid, but I wasn’t a cheater. No matter what else happened I still had my integrity, but after this little stunt, I didn’t even have that. “Well, one person noticed me,” Sasha said, yanking me out of my mental memorial for my dead honor.

  “What?”

  “Your funky French dance partner over there came up to me and started mumbling something in French. Or it could have been Italian with a French accent. I had no idea what he was saying so I just said ‘gracias’ and went back to my, well, your test.”

  “Gracias? You said gracias?” I plopped down on the grass in complete despair. Someone was bound to know she wasn’t me. If not Pierre then someone that heard her. I would never answer French or Italian with Spanish.

  “What’s the problem? You said yourself he’s an idiot. I’m sure he didn’t notice.”

  “This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening,” I chanted while sitting on the grass and rocking myself.

  “Don’t be so dramatic, Sonya. It happened, it’s over, you passed Chemistry and no one noticed it wasn’t you taking that ridiculously easy test.”

  Feeling a pair of eyes on me, I looked around and saw Anna Marie standing in front of the stairs of the dorms with her arms folded in front of her. She shook her head at me disapprovingly then turned and went inside. Sasha was wrong. Someone did notice.

  Chapter 17

  Dancing with the Devil

  It was three minutes before curtain and Pierre was nowhere to be found. At thirty minutes before curtain, I was excited that he wasn’t around. I thought I could do the routine better without him. At twenty minutes before curtain, I wasn’t as certain. I started to get a little nervous, but I was sure he would show up.

  At ten minutes before curtain, I started asking God to forgive me for the bus I prayed for to run over Pierre. At five minutes before curtain, I started freaking out. There was no back up. There weren’t enough dancers to rehearse an understudy. It was very unprofessional to not have backups for each part, but hey, that was the DiRisio Ballet Company for you.

  Alejandro never even considered the possibility that his talent challenged boyfriend wouldn’t be able to perform. And for that matter, where was Alejandro? I thought for sure he would be around somewhere finding one way or another to blame this on me.

  Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, Cynthia sauntered over to me and said, “Are you okay, cherie?” in a sickeningly sweet voice.

  “Does it look like I’m okay? The show is about to start and my partner is nowhere to be found. Would you be okay in this situation?” In no mood for her little games or insults, I looked her straight in the eye waiting for her next move. I wanted her to provoke me into punching her in the face. Maybe if a fight broke out backstage, they would have to cancel the show.

  But Cynthia didn’t get angry and go into her usual racial slurs. Instead, the corners of her mouth curved into a purely wicked smirk. She kind of reminded me of the Cheshire Cat, that is, if the Cheshire Cat were painfully t
hin and pale as an albino drenched in flour.

  “Before I was only suspicious, but now I know for sure it wasn’t you who took the Chemistry test this morning. Just wait till Alejandro finds out.” Then she turned around and practically skipped away.

  I didn’t know what she meant. How did my partner’s absence prove that I didn’t take the Chemistry test? I just shrugged it off. Maybe she was just as dumb as Pierre. Pierre. Where the hell was he?

  The orchestra began to play the overture and still no Pierre. My only choice was to go out and do my part and improvise through the lifts just like I had practiced. My solo was first. I went out and played the part of Claudette, the shy demure village girl, even better than I expected. My anxiety caused by Pierre’s absence actually helped me portray the insecurity of my character. I finished my solo and left the stage. Still no Pierre. While I was in the wings watching the corps dance, the reality of the situation set in. I thought I would start hyperventilating. Our first duet was coming in a matter of seconds. I didn’t know how I would pull it off. I started to believe that Alejandro had done this on purpose so he could find a way to blame me and get rid of me so my spot would be open to recruit a dancer he preferred. My nervousness turned to anger. How could he do this to me?

  Then suddenly, I felt a pair of hands on me. I breathed a sigh of relief. He’d finally shown up. I couldn’t wait to throw the few words of French I’d been practicing at him. I would tell him exactly what I thought about his non-existent dance ability and his pungent smell. Except, these were not Pierre’s familiar small, stubby hands on my waist. And when I breathed, I didn’t choke on body odor. Instead, I smelled … spice.

  I spun around quickly.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I said to Damian Karl as I looked up into his penetrating blue eyes. His hair was straightened and tied back into a neat ponytail. The stage make up he wore made his eyes stand out even more.