Gravitate (25 page)

The streets and campus were deserted
, all sounds muted by the snow.
The world had an eerie, dream-like quality,
and it increased my loneliness.
When I reached the coff
ee shop, I found it was closed.
It appeared I was the only person who had made it in
to the university in the snow.

I was absentmindedly looking at a notice board in the coffee shop window, reading but not absorbing the words, when I heard another set
of steps behind me.
Expecting to see one of the workers for the coffee shop finally turning up for wo
rk, I was surprised to see Ben.
He squinted his eyes, trying to make out my face under my woolly hat.

“Claudia? Is that you?” he asked.

“Yes it is. Hi, Ben.” I couldn’t
fake any animation in my voice.
It was a monotone that didn’t sound right.

“What are you doing here?”
He looked pleased to see me.

“Waiting for the coffee shop to open,” I tried to make a joke, to be my normal self when I felt anything bu
t normal, “I need a latte!
I’m tempted to break the door down.”

It was a weak joke but he laughed anyway. “What time do they open?”

“Twenty minutes ago.” I rolled my eyes.

“Shit, you’re kidding me?”

“I guess they can’t get in with the snow,” I shrugged my shoulders, not understanding his panicked look.

“The director has sent me out for coffee, she’s going to kill me.”

“Donna?”

“Yeah.  She’s vile,” Ben raised his eyes to the sky. “What will I do?”

“What did she ask for?” I wanted to help him, his task would give me a distraction for a few minutes.

“A cappuccino.
Do you know how to make one?”

“No, don’t be silly.
But I do know a machine in the stu
dents’ union that can make one.
It wouldn’t be the same as one from here,” I cocked my head to the closed coffee shop, “but it will do.”

We walked the few minutes to the students’ union
building, making idle chatter.
He told me how he’d been called in to watch the rehearsal today, so that he could start planning the camera positions that would best capture the st
age action.
Donna was antagonising him already, treating him like a lackey and ignoring any cre
ative input he wanted to have.

“You should he
ar the things she’s said to me,” I said to him.
“
There are no redeeming features of this woman!” I wanted to make Ben feel a bit better about the situation.

“What did she say to you?” he asked.

I breathed in deeply. “She told me I was dancing like a virgin.”

He looked mortified. “I…er…what did you say?”

“That I was a virgin, and I didn’t have a problem with that so I didn’t know why
she did.
And the res
t of the students applauded me.
She even apologised.” I smiled briefly, mostly at the memory of Marty leading the applause.

“Wow. And what’s the gossip about a stage light nearly killing you and Marty pulling you out of the way just in time?”

Hearing Marty’s name made me instantly pale. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

“Claudia, are you OK? What’s happening with yo
u and Marty? You like him, right?
I knew it.”

I nodded, suddenly unable to speak.

“So, has he asked you out yet?”

I nodded aga
in.
I hadn’t expected Ben to guess how we felt about each other.

“Well?
Any gossip?”

I had to stop him talking. “No gossip. He left.
He went to work abroad with p
eople who really need his help.
I loved him, he loved me, but it wasn’t enough to stop him going.” The only lie in the
speech was the word ‘abroad’.

“Shit.
Are you OK?” Ben looked concerned.

“No.” I was done with stretching the truth.

“What will you do?”

“What can I do?
He l
eft and took my heart with him.
I’m really hoping that time does heal al
l, otherwise I’m a lost cause.”
I tried to smile, but I could feel tears moistening my eyes.

“Bugger, I’m sorry…” Ben paused for a second, then continued, “do you think this cappuccino will pass her test?”

I was grateful to him for changing the subject and examined the rather pitiful excuse for a
cappuccino in the plastic cup.
“Um, it doesn’t look especially tasty, but it’ll be
worse if we get it to her cold.
I don’t suppose we could melt a few laxatives in it, could we?” I tried to act a grin and made, I thought, a half decent job of it.

“Do you want her having a go at you when she feels poorly?”

“Point taken.
Let’s take it to her now.”

We made our way as quickly as we could to the theatre in the snow, I nearly fell a couple of times, but managed to right
myself before I hit the ground.
I missed
having Marty to catch my fall.
We ar
rived with the drink still hot.
We agreed that Ben should go in first, taking Donna her drink and I would arrive a few seconds later, giving Donna less time to moan at him, as she would surely start moaning at me.

I waited outside for a few minutes, watching icicles drip as they melted off th
e trees.
I reminded myself that nothing she could say would ever make me f
eel as bad as Marty leaving me.
I took a deep breath and entered the theatre.

As I walked into the staging area,
I could hear her berating Ben.
I hid in the corridor.

“This filth is not fit to be called coffee – where did you get it from?”

“The
Union
, but…”

She cut him off, “I told you to go to the coffee shop and I asked for a cappuccino
with cinnamon, not chocolate.”
From my hiding space, I pictured my golden cloud that I imagined when I sang and floated it across the room to surround Ben, wishing its shimmering light could give him the confidence to stand up to her.

“I did – it wasn’t open,
this was the best I could do.
I’m here to set up camera angles, not to fetch you coffee.”

She was silent.
I strolled the final few steps into view.

“Good morning,” I said, in the brightest voice I could muster.

“Claudia? You look like shit.” Donna really knew how to make a girl feel a million dollars.

“Oh, sorry about that,” I replied, “I’m
not sleeping well.
I keep having nightmares about stage lights falling from th
e sky and nearly landing on me.
I wonder what my solicitor would think about that?”

“Cappuccino?” Donna offered me the plastic cup of coffee that Ben had struggled to get for her.

“I’m more of a latte girl.”

“Suit yourself.
Why are you here so early?”

“I wanted to rehearse some of the songs in the performance space, before everyone got here.”

“You need the practise.”

“Exactly.” I agreed, knowing it would annoy her more than if I stood up to her.

“It’ll give Ben a chance to get his little camera angles worked out.” Donna acknowledged Ben, who was setting up a tripod in
the far corner of the theatre.
I glanced over to him and, behind Donna’s back, he
made a mime of strangling her.
I managed
the briefest of smiles for him. He really was a nice guy.
Maybe I wasn’t an angel of destiny, but I reckoned I could manage
a little matchmaking of my own.
I had just the girl for him in mind.

“Could I have t
he backing track for ‘
His Shining Star
’ please, Donna?” I acted the sweetest smile I could manage.

“I’d rather hear you do ‘
Starlet
’ as it is your weakest number.”

“That’s fine, thank you, Donna.” I didn’t care what I sang, as
long as it filled up some time.
The familiar track started and I performed, pretending that my broken hea
rt was only a part of the act.
I had tears streaming down my face by the end of the
song.
I
could almost feel Marty’s gaze.
I was sure he’d been watching at that moment.

“That was a bit melodramatic. Rein it in. Let’s try another song.”
Donna put on the b
acking track to ‘
In The Spotlight
’, which I was relieved she picked – it was the lightest song my character sang and, even without the chorus girls to support me, I could attempt
to disguise my own unhappiness.
The song was a mask to protect me.

“It lacked energy.
Ben, that number has a lot of other dancers in it, so feel free to focus on any of the other girls to avoid highlighting Claud
ia’s inept attempts to dance.”

“There’s a girl called
Sofia
who is a fabulous dancer,” I suggested. “She’s very sexy! I’m sure she wouldn’t mind y
ou featuring close ups of her.”
My matchmaking operation was up and running.

“He d
oesn’t need your help, Claudia.
Save your voice, it sounds strained already,” Donna sounded dismissive, but I was sure Ben would
take notice of my suggestion.

A few other students had turned up now and Donna asked one of the
m to rehearse a different song.
I sat with Ben while he jotted down notes and diagrams on she
ets of paper.
My eyes darted up to the ceiling, glancing at the stage lights with a shudder, remembering how it felt to flo
at through the roof with Marty.
The memory made me sad again, but looking up at the ceiling also helped me avoid crying – I’d read somewhere that looking up stopped
tears from leaving your eyes.
At the rate I was going, I’d be spending most
of my life looking at the sky.
Perhaps I’d see Marty in the clou
ds staring back at me one day.

Sofia
arrived, her cheeks flushed from the cold outside, wearing earmuffs and
a matching scarf.
Her chestnut brown
hair was pulled up into a bun.
I waved and she head
ed over to where I was sitting.
I nudged Ben with my elbow, pointing out
Sofia
as she made her way to the seat I had saved for her, managing to look elegant while tak
ing off her earmuffs and scarf.
Her timing was impeccable, arriving just as the song being performed on stage finished, allowing us to talk freely.

She smiled brightly. “Good morning, ready for another fun packed rehearsal?”

“Always,” I replied, trying to create a happy façade to assist my matchmaking plan, knowing that telling her about my romantic woes would not help make either Sofia or Ben feel motivated to flirt. “
Sofia
, this is Ben, he’s
going to be filming the show.
I told him what a fabulous dancer you are.”

“Really? Thanks, honey.
Hi, how are you doing?” She held out her hand to Ben and he shook it firmly, returning her sunny smile wi
th a dazzling beam of his own.
My heart gave
the slightest flutter of joy.
Marty had been right, it felt great to bring people together.

“I’m doing as well as can be expected for someone who has to work
with your director!” Ben joked.
Sofia
gave a tinkling laugh, th
rowing her head back slightly.

“Claudia, we need you on the stage
for ‘
This Precious Secret
’, as soon as you can tear yourself away from your friends,” Donna’s voice interrupted operation matchmaker and I rolled my eyes at Sofia.

“Keep my seat warm,
Sofia
.” I felt smug i
n forcing them to sit together.
She immediately sat in the seat, crossing her legs towards Ben and I saw his bod
y shift to echo her movements.

I acted through the scene as though in a dream, trying desperately not to remember the way Marty had sung the song to me in the kitchen, trying to ignore the way my skin tingled involuntarily
.
I felt like I needed to hold my breath until the song was finished, that if I let the music into my lungs, I might never be
able to fight off my memories.
My attempt to stop recalling the intimate scene in the kitchen was
useless.
Every note swept in a tiny detail – the beautiful, whispering voice Marty sang in, the soft caress of his lips on my neck as he sang in my ear, the warmth of our bodies pre
ssed together in close contact.
To my immense relief, the song ended, and without commenting on the performance, Donna moved on to a different
number which didn’t feature me.
I left the auditorium, needing some cool air – needing to escape my emotions.