RED: A Love Story [Featured List]

Part 1: White 16 - The graduation

Springtime dwindled and December reached the summertime threshold with a scent of warm rain and the end of high school. The 13th was a lucky day: when the last class of the year ended, the relief in the classroom was major and students suddenly sprung back to life. There was still extra assignments for those who needed to improve their grades, besides the course for college admission exams. But for now, for a brief intermission, no one worried about that. The class had already planned a trip to Cancun for celebrating, lulled into a sunny daydream with stretches of turquoise water and seas of tequila.

In the evening following the end of classes, a Friday, the school's Rotary Club promoted its traditional graduation party. Marisa had no intention of going, and twisted and turned to dodge her mother.

"What happened to the long blue taffeta dress? What you're wearing is so plain." The mother studied her in disapproval and pursed her lips.

"The blue dress got stained," Marisa said cautiously, smoothing her black minidress. "But this one will do."

It was a simple, sleeveless model with details in silver thread, which accentuated her figure and legs elongated by the high-heeled sandals. It matched the set of sapphire necklace and earrings that were her father's gift for her last birthday.

"I'm not so sure... black is such a depressing color... I can't believe you ruined that blue dress. It was so elegant."

Marisa hated the taffeta outfit her mother had bought for her. Right now, though, she didn't want to keep talking or an argument could erupt. When her mother was upset any word, even the most innocent, turned into an elephant paw on a mined field.

Under the pretext she didn't want to be late for the photo session, scheduled to half past six, Marisa picked up her purse and quickly said goodbye. She then initiated a small marathon: she took a taxi, got off at the party venue, made an appearance in the graduation photo book, sneaked out, slipped into another taxi, slipped the wig on and proceeded to meet with Marco at the Jardins area.

Marisa passed by mansions and upscale buildings, bars and restaurants exuding a deliberate casualness perfurmed with money. She disembarked before an impressive façade in the shape of an inverted arch that seemed to float above the glass-walled lobby. Similar to the profile of a ship covered in copper plates, the place was an architectural landmark in the city. Spherical windows dotted its six floors, and the entrance door at the side, as imposing as a cathedral's, opened up to a lobby featuring impossibly high ceilings.

Once in the atrium, Marisa had the impression of crossing the bottom of the sea as she passed by designer furniture disposed like coral clusters in clear water: black and white chaises lounges set anchor amid the spaces amplitude, here a sculpture of Saint George and the Dragon in a niche, there an anemone of flecked flowers. The reading area was delimited by a semicircular bookcase, red armchairs with fan-shaped back rests, and a gigantic navy blue puff that spread like a sleeping shellfish on sandy marble. Up above, the rooftop water mirror undulated in crystal reflections.

Marisa's thrill at meeting Marco was intensified by the singular beauty of the hotel, which not by chance had been baptized the Unique. It was strange getting together with Marco away from Downtown-a thrill mixed with disquiet. They should be safe, for the school crowd would stay at the graduation party until late. But what if an acquaintance happened to show up at the hotel? (Marisa lowered her head and glanced around the lobby to make sure no familiar face was found amid the executives, tourists and models circulating there.)

She neared the bar in the back featuring a concrete wall with gleaming shelves that piled up high, guarded on each side by a golden statue. One way or another, Marisa went on thinking, she had scored good grades and the school term was officially over. Freedom was almost within grasp for Marco and her. A future with no more secrets or guilt. Only one dark cloud still hovered on the horizon: her mother's reaction once she learned about them. But it was best not to think about it now.