Going Solo

by Cynthia Baxter

  “That one,” Allegra said. She pointed to the one that was pushed over against one wall, over on the other side of the room.

  “Oh, goody. I get to be in solitary confinement. Well, that’s fine with me.” Tiffany dropped her suitcase on the floor, stuck her cello in the corner, and plopped down on the bed. As she looked up at her two roommates, there was a wry expression on her face. “Well, well, well. So the three of us are going to be living together for the next six weeks, are we?”

  “Oh, I think it’s going to be really fun,” Megan said. “I’m an only child, so I’m not used to sharing a bedroom. We can stay up late talking and make popcorn and ...”

  “Don’t tell me,” Tiffany said dryly. “You’re from upstate, right?”

  “That’s right, I am.” Megan brightened. “I’m from Buffalo.”

  “It figures. How about you—what did you say your name was?”

  “Allegra. And I’m from New York City.” Her dark eyes were burning as she added, “Is that cosmopolitan enough for you?”

  Tiffany just ignored her remark. “I’m from right outside the city myself. I live in Scarsdale.” She sighed as if she were already bored, then kicked off her shoes. “Where do you have to go to take a shower around here?”

  “The bathroom’s that way,’’ Megan said. “But Allegra and I were about to head down to the Faculty Club. According to the Connors’ there’s a big reception down there for all the students and their parents. I’m supposed to meet my mother there in about ten minutes. Want to join us?’’

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll put off making an appearance for as long as I can.’’ Tiffany stood up and stretched her arms. “I really need a shower if I’m going to start feeling like a human being again.”

  Allegra opened her mouth to make a comment, then snapped it shut.

  “Well, then, I guess we’ll be seeing you there,” Megan said. “Enjoy your shower.”

  Tiffany didn’t even glance in her direction as she strolled over to the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind her. From inside came the sound of rushing water.

  “Gosh,” Megan said, blinking. “What do you suppose is the matter with her?’’

  “I don’t know, exactly,” Allegra replied, climbing off the window seat. She narrowed her dark eyes and looked at the closed bathroom door. “But there is one thing I do know, Megan. You and I are going to have to try teaching that girl a thing or two this summer.”

  * * * *

  As she paused in the doorway of the Clayton College Faculty Club, surveying the mass of people crowded inside, Megan was certain that she had never seen anything as glamorous in her whole life. The room was just one of several similarly tasteful rooms in this small brick building on the edge of campus, a building surrounded by carefully trimmed shrubs and rows and rows of colorful flowers. Its thick carpeting was gold, and the walls were covered with dark wood paneling. There were big bouquets of fresh flowers stationed throughout the room. Waiters in white jackets were moving through the crowd, handing out drinks and appetizers. It was all like something out of a movie. In fact, if it hadn’t been for her roommate Allegra, standing at her side, Megan might never have even had the courage to go inside.

  But her worldly new friend didn’t seem to be in the least bit intimidated by this elegant party.

  “Come on, Megan. I think I see some food over there. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Already Allegra had barged in and was making a beeline for the buffet table that was placed at the other end of the room.

  Megan followed, nearly tripping over her own feet in her efforts to keep up. After all, she certainly didn’t want to be left behind to fend for herself. The two girls had scarcely gotten halfway across the room, fighting the crowd, when Megan suddenly grabbed Allegra by the arm.

  “Allegra, look! I see somebody famous!”

  Allegra barely glanced over her shoulder. “Megan, I haven’t had a thing to eat since breakfast, and ...”

  “But look! It’s that famous soprano, Catherine Lafarge.” Megan’s blue eyes were wide open. “Allegra, she’s coming over this way! Gosh, is she going to talk to us?”

  Allegra finally stopped walking, much to Megan’s relief. But instead of looking impressed, or even the least bit excited, Allegra looked as if this were the kind of thing that happened to her every day.

  And then, as the two girls were approached by the world-famous opera singer whose records Megan had been listening to ever since she was a little girl, Allegra said, “Hello, Maman. Are you and Daddy having a good time?’’

  “Are you? ... You mean? ...” Megan sputtered.

  Allegra laughed. “I’m so sorry, Megan. I never even thought... Maman, allow me to introduce my roommate— my nice roommate, I might add. The other one is like a character in a horror movie. This is Megan Davis. Megan, my mother, Catherine Lafarge.”

  “I’m so pleased ... I mean, I’m honored ...” Megan hadn’t quite regained her composure when her second celebrity of the evening came over.

  “Allegra, we’ve been waiting for you,” scolded Paolo Ferrante, the renowned conductor. “You know we can’t stay too long. Your mother and I have to get back to the city tonight.”

  “Daddy, I’d like you to meet my roommate, Megan,” Allegra said calmly. She never even noticed that that same roommate’s eyes were glowing as she wondered if she were merely dreaming.

  Meanwhile, in another part of the large room, the other member of the Davis family was having her own problems coping with a party that was undoubtedly the fanciest event she had ever attended in her life.

  “Oh, dear,” Megan’s mother muttered as she attempted to spear a piece of duck in orange sauce and successfully maneuver it off one of the dozen or so oversize platters on the buffet table. Filling a plate with the sumptuous-looking food was no easy feat, given the fact that at the same time she was clutching a white linen napkin, a full set of silverware, and a glass of champagne that was nearly full, since it had hardly been touched. The piece of meat she had attempted to grab fell off her fork, landing right smack in the middle of the white tablecloth.

  “Here, let me help you,” offered the gentleman who happened to be standing at her side. “Maybe I can hold your champagne while you help yourself to some food.”

  “Oh, would you?” Joanna Davis looked at him gratefully. When she saw how intently the handsome, well-dressed man beside her was watching her, it was all she could do to keep from blushing.

  There’s Daddy, acting like a Good Samaritan again, thought Tiffany as she strolled into the Faculty Club, surveying the crowd and picking out her father. She had showered and changed, taking her time, hoping that freshening up would improve her mood. Sure enough, as she crossed the room, having decided that the buffet looked at least a little bit less boring than the crowd of people here, she was no more optimistic than she had been before.

  She caught sight of her roommates, giggling together with two people that had a small crowd gathered around them— as if they were movie stars or somebody important, for heaven’s sake, Tiffany thought, shaking her head in disdain. She wanted to turn right around and head back to her dormitory room back in Ellis Hall. There, at least, she could be alone.

  But she was hungry, and she wasn’t about to suffer that much just to drive her point home. Especially since her father seemed totally wrapped up in making dull small talk with some dowdy-looking woman who, in her estimation, had about as much fashion sense as her mousy roommate Megan.

  Tiffany was standing at the end of the buffet table that was farthest from her father and his new girlfriend, wondering if she should stick to salad or let herself pig out tonight, when she heard a familiar voice.

  “So the princess has come down from the tower,” said the oboe player from the lobby of the dormitory. “I guess even royalty has to eat.”

  Tiffany glared at him. “Am I supposed to be happy to see you again or something?”

  The boy shrugged. “Sure, why not? Especially since you
and I will no doubt be seeing a lot of each other for the next few weeks. In the dorm, at orchestra rehearsals ...”

  “Oh, goody. I can hardly wait. Do you think you could at least tear yourself away from me long enough so that I could eat dinner in peace?”

  The boy seemed determined to ignore her bad humor. “By the way, I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself before. The name is Mark Jackson.”

  Tiffany was barely listening as she piled her plate with a selection of the delicious-looking food laid out before her. In the end, hunger had won out. The way she looked at it, she could always diet tomorrow. Especially since living on college cafeteria food was bound to be enough to make anybody prefer starvation.

  “And your name?” Mark asked when Tiffany failed to pick up on her cue.

  “You can call me Ralph,’’ she replied, not even bothering to look over at him. “Or better yet, don’t call me at all.”

  “I think I’ll just call you Tiffany.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Oh. So you already know my name.”

  “Let’s just say I did a little research in the past hour since we met. Hey, great food, huh?” Mark glanced around the room. “Great crowd, too. Did you see that one of the kids here has got Paolo Ferrante and Catherine Lafarge for parents? Wow, what a background. She sure is lucky.”

  “Ferrante?” Tiffany didn’t recognize the names of either of the celebrities from the music world. But that last name, at least, rang a bell. “It sounds like my roommate’s name.”

  “Oh, yeah? So I guess you’ve already got an in with the right crowd—”

  “Will you excuse me?” Tiffany interrupted with mock politeness. “I prefer to eat with people whose company I enjoy. Myself, for example. That means alone.”

  She waltzed off, making a point of avoiding her father. When she said she wanted to be alone, she really meant it. And she was so intent on finding herself some peace and quiet she didn’t even notice the way Mark Jackson’s green eyes followed her as she made her way across the room— and she certainly didn’t see the determined glint in them.

  “Bye!”

  “Good-bye!”

  “Have a great summer, and don’t forget to write!”

  Tiffany sat on the window seat in her room, watching out the window as a group of kids stood together on the lawn outside the dormitory, saying good-bye to their parents. Her own father had left a half hour earlier, after another scene in which she acted frosty and he insisted heartily that once she got used to the idea that she was here to have fun, she would start having the time of her life.

  She turned away from the window. It was just past nine o’clock. The other kids, she knew, would be gathering informally in the lobby and in the corridors of the dormitory, getting to know one another. She, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and hide. And she intended to do just that.

  She had to hurry, though. Tiffany knew that if she waited until her roommates got back, they would expect her to spend the rest of the evening talking to them. Not that she couldn’t manage to discourage them, of course, but she wasn’t in the mood to bother. Instead, her plan was to get into bed so that when they came in she could pretend she was already asleep. Then they would be forced to go somewhere else to do their socializing.

  As she pulled back the covers of her bed, she realized that, all desire to escape from this horrible situation aside, she really was tired. It had been a long day, what with the drive up from Scarsdale, all the tension in the car between her and her father, and then the shock of actually being here. A full night’s sleep sounded like exactly what she needed.

  Who knows? she thought as she began to slide in between the cool sheets, looking forward to the chance to relax. Maybe by the time I wake up, none of this will seem so bad. Maybe I’ll have started thinking about it as a bad joke—or a chance to have some hilarious stories about my summer with the musical nerds, once I get back home to Scarsdale.

  She got into bed, unfolding her long legs as she pulled the sheets up to her chin, wanting to luxuriate in the soft, enveloping bed.

  And then she let out a shriek.

  “What the—” she cried, scrambling out of bed so fast that her legs got tangled in the sheets and she fell onto the floor with a loud thump. She blinked, not sure if she had just imagined it, or if there really was something crunchy and hard all over the mattress.

  “Oh, what kind of place is this?” she moaned, impatiently working her way out of the mess of sheets that had her trapped on the floor.

  In one angry motion, she pulled back all the bedclothes. She didn’t see anything; had she really imagined it? And then, in a sudden burst of inspiration, she grabbed the pillow off the bed and pulled off the bottom sheet. There, sprinkled everywhere, were tiny brown specks.

  “Agh!” she yelled, so surprised by the unexpected sight that she jumped back in alarm. It took her a few seconds to realize they were just cornflakes, spread all over her bed by some prankster—some prankster with an odd sense of humor.

  When I find out who put those there ... Tiffany was thinking, her cheeks bright red and her eyes burning with anger.

  But it didn’t take long before that happened. At that moment the door to the room burst open. In came Allegra, giggling uncontrollably, with Megan not far behind.

  “I see you found our little surprise,” Allegra said, still laughing. “We were afraid you’d miss dinner and get hungry in the middle of the night, so we borrowed a box of cereal from the cafeteria.”

  “Why you—” Tiffany was so furious she felt as if she were about to burst. “How dare you!”

  “Oh, come on, Tiff,” Allegra said loftily, dropping down on the window seat. “Can’t you even take a joke? We were just teasing you, that’s all. We thought a little practical joke might help break the ice.”

  Megan nodded. “That’s right, Tiffany. We were only trying to be funny.” She looked concerned, as if she, at least, were afraid that maybe their attempt at being “funny” had backfired.

  Allegra, meanwhile, continued to act as if the whole thing was hilarious.

  “All right, Tiffany, so Megan and I get ourselves two points for that round. Now how about getting dressed and coming downstairs? Some of the kids are holding an informal jam session in the lobby. There’s one guy who plays jazz oboe exceptionally well. I’ve never heard anything like it. Come with us.”

  “I’d sooner set my entire wardrobe on fire!” Tiffany snapped.

  With one long sweep of her arm, she brushed most of the cornflakes off the mattress, then tucked the bottom sheet back into place. She climbed into bed, turning her back on the others, and pulled the covers way up over her head. She hadn’t quite gotten all the cornflakes, she immediately realized, but she wasn’t about to admit that to the others.

  “Well, then, suit yourself,” she heard Allegra say. “Let’s go downstairs, Megan. We’ll leave old sourpuss here all by herself. Meanwhile, you and I are going to have some fun!”

  As she left the room, she made a point of slamming the door behind her.

  Chapter Five

  While Megan had been anxiously looking forward to her summer at Wildwood ever since the moment she learned she had been accepted, she had never imagined she would be as happy there as she was turning out to be. It was like a dream come true. She was in a constant state of excitement as she was bombarded with new and wonderful things.

  As she sat in the flute section, waiting for the very first rehearsal of the student orchestra to begin, she thought about the past twenty-four hours and what a wonderful surprise it was all turning out to be. Her summer at Wildwood, she could see, was going to be as close to perfect as anything she could ever have wished for. She loved the large airy room in modern Ellis Hall that she shared with Allegra and Tiffany. She thought most of the new people she met were fascinating.

  Even the food was interesting; at the reception the evening before, she had tried caviar for the first time. True, she had thought it tasted so a
wful that she could hardly choke it down. But the fact remained that just being here was already providing her with all kinds of experiences she would never have otherwise had.

  Even more exciting than the newness, even more exhilarating than the musical opportunities that lay ahead of her, was Megan’s brand-new friendship with Allegra. The two girls had hit it off right from the start, and both of them were ecstatic over having found such a close relationship so quickly. Megan already thought of Allegra as the sister she had never had.

  The two of them were different in some ways, of course, but in the ways that mattered, it seemed as if they were completely on the same wavelength. They both loved music and movies, laughed at the same jokes, had read and treasured the same books, and worried about the dilemma of incorporating romance with the things they wanted to accomplish. Ever since they had met the afternoon before, Allegra and Megan had spent every minute together, talking a mile a minute as they settled into this new friendship that was so important to them both.

  Yes, Megan thought as she played a few scales to warm up for the rehearsal, I feel as if for the first time in my life, I’m really, truly happy.

  And then she discovered that she had to stop the F scale. It was simply impossible for her to play while she was smiling so hard.

  Tiffany, too, was smiling as she took a seat way at the back of the cello section as the group of one hundred students gathered together on the stage of the Clayton College auditorium for their first rehearsal. Unlike her roommate, however, it was not happiness over her newfound situation here at Wildwood that had put her in such a good mood. It was because she had had an idea—an idea of how she could get out of this place. And the best part was that her father would never be the wiser.

  At the moment, however, all she could do was sit in the metal folding chair and wait for the rehearsal to begin. When a plump girl took the seat next to her, Tiffany quickly made up her mind to ignore her. But it didn’t take her long to find out that the other girl was not about to let that happen.