Devil's Creek Page 9

  He scanned the crowd. “I’m also going to cast understudies for the main roles. So be prepared to do it all, gentlemen. And,” he said with a huge grin, “tomorrow afternoon I’ll post the results on my office door at four o’clock.”

  Another buzz ran through the group.

  “Okay,” he clapped his hands. “Let’s start with Raoul. Who wants to go first?”

  Hank jumped up before Anderson could even think to raise his hand. “I’ll go, Professor.”

  Gambino nodded. “We’re going to start with the ‘Think of Me’ duet. You will sing with… ” he scanned the room. “How about Merry?”

  Hank tried to hide his disappointment, and from the way his face fell, it was obvious he’d been hoping for a chance to sing with Caroline.

  Anderson’s spirits rose. Maybe Hank wouldn’t get a chance to get his slimy hands on her. Or even breathe in her space, for that matter. He sat forward, focused on the stage.

  Merry started to sing in her precise, powerful, trained voice. When Hank came in at his designated time, Anderson’s heart plummeted to the ground.

  The guy was amazing. He hit every note perfectly, had a fantastic range, and didn’t goof once. Crap.

  Caroline leaned closer to him, whispering softly in his ear. “You’re better. Don’t worry.”

  Gambino clapped his hands, stopping the accompanist before the song was over. “Well done, people. Very nice. Now, who’s next?”

  No one else raised a hand.

  So, it’s gonna be a duel, between Hank and me.

  He stood. “Anderson Rockwell, here, Professor. I’m ready.”

  “Okay, Rockwell. You and Caroline will pair up. Same piece.”

  Anderson followed Caroline’s lithe form up the steps to center stage, ignoring the glare from Hank, who jumped off the stage and sulked in the front row. The pianist handed them their own copies of the score, but they didn’t need to reference it. They’d practiced for two hours earlier in the morning, and had memorized it.

  When Caroline opened her mouth to sing, Anderson almost fell over. She hadn’t really let loose with him in the practice room. She’d probably only sung at half strength. But now…

  What was it about her voice that so transformed him? It was pure. Sweet. Lilting. Yes, all of the above. But there was just something so bell-like in the quality of her tones and her expressions matched the emotions of the song so perfectly. It was almost as if her face was malleable clay, crafted by an artist to represent yearning, wanting, and nostalgia.

  He almost missed his cue, but her gentle prod woke him from his trance. He gave it his all, singing from his heart, feeling vibrations of pure pleasure in his throat and on his lips. It felt so right; so perfect.

  When they sang in harmony, he was transported. He was certain angels appeared in the darkness around them. The rest of the people disappeared. And then there was just the two of them, floating, together, merging like one.

  When their last note faded away, the crowd was silent.

  Silent because they stunk? Or…

  Applause erupted in the hall.

  No, the group had been silent because they were awestruck.

  A sweet smile slid onto Caroline’s lips. She drew him down to her face and touched her lips to his. He kissed her back, then straightened and stood with his arm around her waist, waiting for the applause to die down.

  Maybe he was made for the part of Raoul.

  Professor Gambino leapt to the stage again, clapping to calm the still-cheering crowd. “Well. I guess we know how you felt about that one, eh?” He actually grinned.

  “Okay, people. Let’s move on to the Phantom’s songs. I’d like Mr. Antonio Ballero to honor us with a song.”

  Ballero stood, made a little bow, and said in a strong Italian accent, “Thank you very much, Professor Gambino. I would like to sing ‘The Music of the Night,’ if that’s agreeable with you.”

  Gambino bowed his head. “Of course.” He waved to the accompanist, who flipped through his music, signaling that he was ready.

  Ballero positioned himself on stage and began to sing in a powerful, rich voice, full of passion and angst.

  Anderson had assumed that the university’s production of this musical would lean toward featuring students from the school. But after hearing this man sing, he just shrugged inside. The guy was the Phantom. And there was no way a just-out-of-high-school wannabe was going to compete with him.

  When the applause died down, Gambino motioned to Hank. “Your turn, young man.”

  Hank didn’t seem to have been as overwhelmed by Ballero’s performance as Anderson, for he strutted on stage, dramatically carrying a single red rose with a black ribbon tied to its stem—the symbol of the Phantom’s love for Christine in Joel Schumacher and Andrew Lloyd Webber’s production of the movie in 2004.

  He sang well, and he even introduced a few elegant movements to accompany his song. But his voice paled in comparison to that of Ballero.

  When it was Anderson’s turn, he began to sing with all his heart, using the tips he’d learned from the music teacher he’d done an intense month of study with in Boston last August, when he’d lived with his brother’s family. But he knew inside that he was no match for the master who’d shown them how it was done earlier in the evening. When he reached the end of the first stanza, an ear piercing alarm split through the air.

  The fire alarm?

  The overhead sprinklers came on, soaking the crowd. The pianist stopped playing, jumped up and quickly disappeared, holding sheet music over his head for protection. The rest of the crowd ran screaming before the professor’s waving arms toward the nearest exit.

  Hank slouched in a black hooded slicker in the back of the hall, smiling.

  Caroline appeared at Anderson’s side, touched his arm, and smiled through wet eyelashes. “Baby? We’ve gotta go.”

  Dripping wet, he finished the song a cappella, ending on a strong note. He bowed to the empty hall, quietly collected his things, and as if nothing unusual had happened, walked with Caroline to the far exit, in the opposite direction from Hank.

  “A little water never stopped me,” he said.

  She swiped her dripping hair to the side, twisting it into a ponytail. “I imagine you’ve been through worse,” she laughed.

  “Hell yeah. I won’t melt. And nobody can force me off stage. Not even Hank.”

  Chapter 27

  The next afternoon, Anderson gripped Caroline’s hand. Standing side by side in the back of the crowd, they waited for Professor Gambino to post the casting results on his door. It was already a few minutes past four. He glanced around, grateful to see Hank wasn’t there. With a brief hitch in his throat, he wondered if Gambino would show. He’d said four o’clock. Was he even in the office? It was awfully quiet in there.

  “Do you think he’s coming?” Caroline whispered.

  He realized she’d already begun to read his mind. How was it possible? How had they become so close in just a few days? “I think he likes the drama of the reveal.” Anderson said, sotto voce. “He knows there’ll be a crowd out here.”

  She tittered nervously. “Yeah. I’ll bet you’re right.”

  He stood beside her, realizing how bizarre this all was. Here he was, a wounded war vet, standing in a group of kids who’d barely graduated high school, waiting with bated breath to find out who played what role in a silly college musical.

  He wasn’t standing over the dead bodies of his friends. He wasn’t picking up a crying child whose family had just been blown away. He wasn’t stifling his own sobs.

  Damn.

  Will I ever get over this?

  Five minutes later, the grumbling noises from the students had risen along with speculations that Professor Gambino had stood them up. Another few minutes passed, and they quieted when scuffling sounds came from the office.

  Anderson sensed the adrenaline kicking up around him, like he used to before a big skirmish.

  The door flew open.

/>   There he was, in all his glory, white hair flowing back from his brow and a triumphant smile pasted on his face. “Ah! I see you’ve been waiting for this.” With a flourish, Gambino fluttered a paper in his hand and melodramatically taped it to his door. “There you go, people. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow night at six sharp.”

  Anderson’s heart thundered, more for Caroline than for himself. Funny how it had all changed now. He wanted her to get the lead. Badly. And if he got a good role, he’d be glad. And yet, just a few days ago, he’d all but fixated on the idea of playing the Phantom.

  There were gasps and shrieks and groans from the students in the front of the group. Some turned to smile at Caroline, giving Anderson hope. Slowly, the crowd began to dissipate.

  Anderson and Caroline stepped forward. He could almost make out the names on the list when Hank materialized from around a corner, his fists balled and his face set.

  He shot a dirty look at Anderson, pushing aside the last few stragglers to get to the front. Peering at the list, he scowled. “No friggin’ way.” With a low cry, he jabbed his finger at the paper. “This is insane! Understudy? What the hell. Understudy?”

  Glaring at Anderson, he spat his words. “Well, big hero. You didn’t get it, either. Gambino caved; went the safe route. He picked that aging has-been to sing the lead.” With one last furious huff, he whirled and stalked away.

  Caroline tugged at his sleeve. He’d been instinctively cradling her in his arms. “Hey, look.” She pointed to the list and moved a few steps forward. “You’ve got Raoul.”

  “And you’re my Christine,” he said, a broad grin plastered across his face. “Perfect.”

  He pulled her close and kissed her. “Congratulations, sweetie.”

  She kissed him quickly, but a tiny frown knotted her brow. “I hope Merry’s not disappointed with the role of Carlotta.”

  “I doubt it. She nailed that part. You’ve gotta admit it. She was awesome with those coloratura passages.”

  “True.” Excitement sparkled in her eyes. “So, we’re really gonna do this, aren’t we? You and me. On stage. Together.”

  “You bet.” He led her away from the wall and they started to leave. Before they’d taken ten steps, Hank reappeared at a run.

  He hammered on Gambino’s door. “Professor! I’ve gotta talk to you.”

  They couldn’t help but hear the raised voices.

  “Are you kidding me, Professor? Understudy?”

  “It’s an important role, Hank. If anything happens to Antonio Ballero, you must be fully prepped to step in and play the Phantom.”

  Hank exploded. “But I’m not in the show. This is an insult.”

  “Calm down, boy. You’re just a freshman. What did you expect?”

  “You gave Raoul to that damned soldier boy. He’s just a freshman.”

  “Maybe. But he’s actually much older. His voice is quite mature.”

  Hank whined at the prof. “I could have taken any of the other roles. Firmin. André. Piangi.”

  “I know, I know.” Gambino put a hand on Hank’s shoulder. “But who would I have cast as understudy? You’re the only one good enough for that important safety net. Truly.”

  Hank’s anger seemed to deflate. “Honestly?”

  “Honestly. And I hope you understand that in the future, your position in this theater will be most important. Next year, who knows? Maybe you’ll play Tevye from Fiddler.”

  Hank’s face lit up. “Yeah?”

  “I think you’d be perfect for him. But for now, you just have to be patient. Use this as a learning experience. Okay? Let me teach you the finer points of singing this very challenging part. You’ll stand side by side with Antonio for all the lessons. For every scene. You’ll block it. You’ll learn it. And, God forbid, if anything happens to him, you’ll be the star of the show.”

  Anderson and Caroline turned a corner, out of earshot now.

  She tucked her arm tighter into his. “Wow. What a psycho.”

  He laughed. “I know, right? Did he do this in high school? Go whining to the director when he didn’t get the part he wanted?”

  “He was the only decent male singer we had. So, unfortunately, he always got the part he wanted.”

  “Huh.” Anderson glanced back down the hall, noting Gambino and Hank walking together in the same direction they were headed. “Come on. Let’s get out of here and start practicing. I’ll need help memorizing these lines.”

  Chapter 28

  At practice the next night, Gambino began to explain his reasons for his casting choices. Everyone sat quietly, but those who were disappointed knew it was a done deal, and those who weren’t, couldn’t wait to get started. Nevertheless, the group listened intently as Gambino took the stage, walking back and forth, waving his arms, and clearly enjoying the sound of his own voice.

  “People, listen. I want to explain further. I know some of you are disappointed that the role of the Phantom didn’t go to a student at our school.” He glanced to the back of the hall, where Antonio sat reading a novel. “This was a tough decision. There were a few of you who could have made it work, but just barely. Including the local community players, and especially a well-proven singer like Antonio,” he nodded to the man in the back, “will bring in twice as many patrons on opening night. We are embracing the talent of our town. We are an inclusive university.”

  “If I’d had a senior or grad student who tried out, it might have been different. And as far as Christine and Carlotta go,” he smiled at Merry and Caroline, “I'm certain I made the right choices. You ladies will knock their socks off.”

  A light smattering of applause went around the room.

  “Ah. I see you agree. Good.” He smoothed his wavy white mane and picked up a booklet from his stand. “Well, then, let’s get started. We’re blocking ACT I, and I need all of you present for the next five sessions. I’ll let you know after that which nights I’ll need you.” He scanned the room. “But if you get a night off, be sure to practice at home.”

  He walked to the side of the stage where the stage crew had assembled beneath him. “You guys are going to be vital to this show. I want my creative set builders to get cracking on that hollow elephant. Tonight. Designs ready by tomorrow, first nails into the frame by the next night. Got it?”

  The bevy of students stirred, nodding with wide eyes.

  “Okay. You can go to the chorus room to start your drawings and discussions.”

  Twenty-two young men and women stood as one and filed out the back, chattering with enthusiasm.

  For three hours, Gambino moved them about the stage, setting markers and working through some of the dance moves. By the time he finished with them, the group was sweating, out of breath, and radiant.

  Caroline gathered her things, wiping perspiration from her brow. “Wow. That dance is really cool.”

  Anderson nodded, grinning. “You reminded me of a sultan’s slave girl. It was so exotic. So—” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “So damned sexy.”

  She flushed and raised her eyes to his, fire dancing within. “Wanna come home with me, mister?”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Yeah. My aunt’s working again tonight.”

  Anderson felt a wave of need pass through his entire body, from scalp to spine to loins. “God, yes. I want you.” He ducked his head and smiled. “I mean, I want to.”

  “Either one works for me.” She took his hand. “Come on.”

  ∞∞∞

  Anderson’s longing for her had already grown uncontrollable. He wanted out of his clothes so badly; he didn’t know if he could wait another aching second.

  She drove toward her house, reaching over to touch his thigh every so often. “You won’t think less of me, will you?” she teased.

  He moaned. “Oh, Caroline. You’re killing me.”

  She laughed—so soft and melodic that his heart melted, right there in the old Toyota.

  “I’ve fallen so hard
for you,” he said, reaching over to caress her face with the back of his hand. “I want us to be forever.”

  When she laughed as if she doubted him, he turned to her, his voice deeper. “I’m serious. You’ve got my heart, honey. Forever. Will you marry me?”

  Tears welled in her eyes. She continued driving up the dirt road, carefully maneuvering around each corner. “Really? You’re serious?”

  “Damn right I am.” Now it was his turn to laugh. “Geez. I sound like a character in a cheesy romance novel.”

  “No.” She grabbed his hand. “No, you don’t. It’s nice. It’s more than nice. It’s wonderful. And yes. Let’s get married, but we’ve gotta wait until we graduate.”

  “That long?” he said, sighing.

  “If it’s real, it’ll last,” she whispered. “I want to do this right.” She parked in front of the porch and turned off the engine. But she didn’t get out.

  He touched her hand. “You sure this is okay? You’re really ready for this?”

  She nodded, and the smile that reached her eyes gave him the answer. “I’m more than ready. To tell the truth, I wanted you so bad that first time. And I’ve been trying not to think about it. I didn’t want you to look at me as some kind of skank.”

  He groaned. “Never. I could never think that about you.”

  She sighed. “All my friends have been having sex with anyone they can find since the first night of orientation. It’s like they’ve been given free rein to dance with the Devil, and they are just going at it like rabbits. Sometimes a different guy every night. It’s crazy. And I hate it.”

  “I know, me, too. Isn’t it typical, though? First time out of the house. First time without the rules. No parents over their shoulders. It’s not pretty, but it’s not too surprising.”

  She covered her face with her hands. “I don’t want to be like them.”

  “You’re not. You’re my sweet, wonderful, special girl. And if you sleep with anyone else—” He chuckled and leaned over to kiss her. “I’ll kill him.”

  “Yeah?” She melted against him. “And you’d know how to do that, wouldn’t you?”

  “You bet I would. I’d tear him limb from limb with my bare hands.”