Barre Hopping at Midnight

By

Amanda Brice

Life sucks when your boyfriend is a vampire.

Fine, he’s not really a vampire. And if we want to get 100% technical, he’s not really my boyfriend, either. Sorta kinda maybe. But not really.

I don’t know.

It’s complicated.

Jackson leaned in closer, mere millimeters away, two-hundred-year-old ebony eyes locked on Robyn’s green ones with such intensity she found it uncomfortable not to look away. Yet she couldn’t. “I will love you until the day you die.”

Robyn shivered at his touch, despite heat from the nearness. She felt like a scorpion’s prey – paralyzed, standing as still as a statue, almost in a trance. “But…what would Eric say?” she finally whispered.

His gaze clouded over as suddenly as the vast desert sky before a midsummer monsoon. “I don’t give a damn what that animal would say.”

“But--”

His lips grazed hers in the lightest of kisses, sending a thousand watts of energy racing down her spine and cutting off any stray thoughts she might have had about his rival. “Hope springs eternal. Just like my love for you. Robyn Bell, do not deny your destiny. You are mine. Today, tomorrow, forever.”

Le sigh. Was there anything more romantic?

“Are you reading that stupid book again, Dani?” Analisa San Miguel’s voice snapped me out of my reverie. Why doesn’t she just splash a glassful of cold water in my face while she’s at it? That might actually be less jarring. “We’ve been backstage for what, two minutes at most, and you’re already at it?”

“Take that back!” I said, playfully batting her in the arm with the hard box of my toe shoe as she leaned over her outstretched leg to work out the kinks after our dress rehearsal. “I can’t believe you called it stupid. Bethany Beyer is a literary genius.”

Okay, perhaps a bit of hyperbole. But, cynic though she was, even Analisa couldn’t deny that the Midnight saga was an international sensation. Originally aimed at the teen market, the little-known indie e-book catapulted into the public eye when one of the ladies on The View mentioned she’d read it while post-op from giving Mother Nature a little help during her latest ride on the nip-tuck-go-round, claiming she’d discovered the fountain of youth in a self-published Young Adult paranormal romance novel. Suddenly Midnight was on everyone’s TBR list – daughters, moms, and grandmas alike. In fact, the average reader’s age was more than double that of the main characters.

Well, the human characters, at least.

Almost overnight Bethany had landed an agent, a seven-figure advance, and a movie deal, and was being called “one to watch” in both the indie community and New York publishing circles alike. Because she was a recent graduate of Mountain Shadows Academy of the Arts, all my friends back home in Sparta thought it was “OMG, so cool!” that I went to the same high school as her. Of course, I’m just a freshman, so I’ve never met her because she’d graduated last June before I got here (plus the dancers and writers only have academic classes together – nothing in their majors), but my upperclassmen friends had.

Her prose was more than a little melodramatic and could probably benefit from a nice long waltz with a red pen, but a million readers can’t be wrong. It had that certain je ne sais quoi and tapped into our fears and dreams on a purely visceral level, with raw, emotional angst.

Oh, and vampires and werewolves. You can never have too many fangs.

“The Eric-Robyn-Jackson love triangle is classic!” I continued.

“Sure, it’s right up there with Catherine, Linton, and Heathcliff,” Maya Sapp said as she scrubbed off stage makeup so thick even Lady Gaga would call it a no-no.

“Who?”

An incredulous expression marched across Analisa’s face. “Um, Wuthering Heights? Emily Bronte?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t taken sophomore lit yet, duh.”

Maya laughed. “Not a big loss, Spevak. I couldn’t stand that book. Talk about a drama llama. And Heathcliff…hello? Controlling much? I kept rooting for them all to just die out there on the moor. Put us out of our misery already! Instead the book just kept going on and on and on…”

“What?”

“I mean seriously,” Maya said. “Catherine was TSTL. How she could put up with that crap, I’ll never know.”

Analisa furrowed her brow, her eyes turning to slits so small I couldn’t believe she could actually see out of them. “TSTL?”

“Too stupid to live. You know, like the dumb cheerleader in a low-budget horror flick who goes into the scary house where the guy with the chainsaw is.”

“It just happens to be one of English literature’s greatest masterpieces,” Analisa said with a disapproving sigh.

She didn’t look away from the dressing room mirror so I couldn’t be certain, but I was pretty sure Maya was rolling her eyes. Some things never change. Whatevs. My friends just don’t have a sentimental bone in their bodies. No wonder they didn’t have boyfriends, unlike me.

Or did I? Sure, we’d kissed – a lot – but it wasn’t like he’d asked me to prom yet.

I’d had a crush on Craig Washosky pretty much since the first time I saw him across the table in the cafeteria, way back on the day I’d moved into my dorm here at Mountain Shadows. Thick brown hair artfully tousled in a way that was supposed to look über-casual but took most guys a vat of gel to achieve (although in Craig’s case, he probably did just roll out of bed), eyes so piercingly blue you could lose yourself in the depths of the Caribbean, bronze skin perfectly kissed by the Arizona sun during hours of pick-up basketball on the quad…he epitomized the cliché of the tall, dark, and handsome Hollywood leading man.

Which he was, of course.

Oh, that’s right. You’d know him by his stage name, Craig Walsh. Yes, that Craig Walsh. At the beginning of the school year he was just an attractive young theatre student in one of the nation’s most prestigious arts schools, but ever since his film debut in First Down got all that buzz at Sundance a couple of months back, he’s been “The Craig Walsh.” The critics are even talking about a possible Oscar nod. Even though it was a super small part, he’s spent more time recently doing the whole red carpet thing than going to class.

Ouch, that made it sound like I wished him ill will. I so totally didn’t. He deserves all the accolades being thrown his way. For serious. He’s enormously talented.

It’s just that he never would have gotten that role if it weren’t for me.

Not to mention the one he was away in LA filming right now.

The one where he was playing Jackson to Amber Alexander’s Robyn. And that meant hours and hours of rehearsals and retakes of that super hot kiss on page 236 of Bethany Beyer’s bestseller. You know which one I mean. Yowza. I blushed just thinking of it.

Yes, that Amber Alexander. There was no way I could compete. Especially after that game of tonsil hockey, even if it was just acting.

At least I hoped it was just acting. No way to know for sure, unless you believed the tabloids.

And I didn’t. Believe the tabloids, that was.

Much.

“Give the girl a break, ladies.”

Once I’d determined the source of the voice, I wondered when Miss Piggy had sprouted wings and learned to fly. Clearly she must have, since Hadley Taylor was defending me.

Hadley unwrapped the satin ribbons of her toe shoes and shot me a smile so sugary sweet it would probably throw my dad into a diabetic coma. “Little Miss Dani just wants to know what Craig is doing out there in Cali. Or, if you listen to the Informer — who.”

I guess Miss Piggy was just as earthbound as Kermit after all.

“Why don’t you just STFU?” If looks could kill, Maya would be doing life without parole. Oh yeah, she had my back. “Just because he dumped your scrawny butt last summer—”

“Speaking of scrawny butts…Dani, you still seeing the counselor about that eating dis—”

“Play nice.” As always, Analisa was the voice of reason.

“—order?” Hadley let out an exaggerated overdrawn sigh. “Fine.” She pulled several bobby pins out of her bun and let her $300-a-month-blonde waves bounce over her shoulders, then glanced in a bulb-lit dressing room mirror straight out of a 1940s musical and smugly smiled, as if pronouncing herself ready for her close-up. She turned to me, a glint dancing in her cat-like green eyes. “I guess Dani doesn’t want to know where Craig’s filming next week.”

“That’s easy,” I said. “Studio G of the Sandler Brothers Pictures lot. He’s in makeup by seven every morning.” Wow, that sounded like I was stalking him.

Hadley’s laugh tinkled. “Aren’t we Little Miss Know-it-all? Only not in this case, apparently.” She paused for effect, clearly enjoying the attention. “He’ll be in Sedona all next week.”

The legendary Sedona Red Rocks have enchanted visitors for generations with their spectacular natural beauty. Huge rock formations almost glow a brilliant orangey-red, silhouetted against a bright blue sky, forming a breathtaking backdrop for, well, everything. Even the local McDonalds was prettier, with the only teal arches in the world.

It wasn’t surprising the director would want to film on location in the actual town in which Bethany’s book took place. What was surprising was that Craig didn’t tell me.

Particularly since I was going to be there, too.

No, really. I wasn’t stalking him. I swear.

The Southwestern Teen Arts Festival takes place every year during Spring Break in Sedona. Mountain Shadows students always participate, showcasing their dancing, singing, acting, music, or studio art. He knew that. Craig had been going since his freshman year, but I guess now that he was a big Hollywood star he couldn’t be bothered to remember such a trivial matter.

So what if it also happened to be my fifteenth birthday? He was so above all that high school BS.

Mental wrist slap.

Bad Dani. I really needed to stop thinking poorly of him. He was probably just busy and forgot. Or maybe he thought it was a different week.

Of course, there was only one way to find out. I grabbed my purse and dug around. Lip gloss, EpiPen, wallet, phone.

HEY! R U IN SEDONA? IM ALMOST THERE. MISS U!

I bit my lip as my finger hovered over the “send.” Was “Miss U!” too forward? Not forward enough?

Did I look as desperate as I felt? At least I didn’t type “Luv U!” Yeah, it had to go.

I deleted the message and tried again.

I HEAR U R FILMING @ SEDONA. ILL BE THERE FOR TEENARTS.

WANT 2 GO OUT 4 MY BDAY?

Delete.

R U IN SEDONA?

Short, sweet, and to the point. That ought to do the trick.

I hit “send” and sunk back into my seat to wait for a response as the school bus chugged up the twists and turns of I-17.

An hour later, I still hadn’t heard anything. And this was the third text I’d sent him this week. Was he ignoring me? Maybe he didn’t want to see me anymore now that he was hanging out with Amber Alexander. Duh. That had to be it.

Why didn’t he like me?

“I’m going to sneak onto the set of Midnight,” I announced.

“Oh no,” Analisa said, shaking her head in punctuation. “No.”

“No what?” I asked, feigning innocence.

Analisa raised her arms almost in defense. Against what, I had no idea. “No more snooping, no more sneaking around, no more breaking and entering.”

“Why not?”

“Uh, perhaps because B&E is illegal?”

Okay, so she had a point. But I couldn’t help it – crazy stuff just happens to me. Besides, it’s all worked out in the past. And if we hadn’t snooped those other times, we never would have stopped some very serious crimes from occurring. Who cares if we might’ve sorta kinda broken some laws in the process? The ends totally justified the means.

Right?

“Fine. We won’t break onto the set.”

“No, we’ll get on totally legally,” Maya agreed. Told you the girl had my back.

Analisa sighed. “Don’t encourage her!”

“She’s not encouraging me,” I said. “I’d go even if she didn’t come along.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Analisa pushed her bangs off her forehead. “Fine, we’ll all go. But the movie set is not our priority. We’re here to dance. Not stalk celebrities.”

“We all know you’re not here to see celebs, Ana.” Maya stretched her long legs out into the aisle, alternating between pointing and flexing her toes. “You spend more time keeping out the Kardashians than keeping up with them. Your idea of a reality show is the Republican debates.”

“Well, you have to admit they’re this year’s must-see TV…drama, backbiting, trainwrecks, Cinderella stories…”

I tuned out my friends’ bickering and stared out the window. The bus turned a corner on the winding mountain road as we entered Sedona city limits, and we got our first glimpse of the Red Rocks.

Was this place for real? Surely it had to be a movie set. Or maybe the local artists colony down the road in Jerome spilled their watercolors and infused the landscape with a symphony of burnt sienna, mahogany, rust, teal, and aqua. The effect was spectacular, like the leprechaun’s rainbow come to life. Colors that vivid couldn’t be formed by nature. Could they?

There’s an old saying that God created the Grand Canyon but lives in Sedona. I now knew it was true.

No wonder my Grandma Rose loved coming here for New Age retreats. They say Sedona has one of the largest concentrations of spiritual energy vortexes and the conditions are perfect for meditation, prayer, and healing. Grandma Rose was here a decade before I was born for the so-called Harmonic Convergence, when thousands of people around the world gathered at sacred places simultaneously to combine their psychic energy to keep the Earth from slipping out of its “time beam” and spinning off into space – and create a new era of harmony and love in the process.

I wasn’t sure if I bought into it all. It seemed a little too woo-woo for me. Grandma Rose claims she’s psychic – my dad claims she’s crazy. But looking around at the scenery, I could totally see why she’d believe it. And ultimately the Earth didn’t slip off its orbit and spin into the Great Unknown. Besides, she’d helped me solve some crimes in the past, so maybe there was something to it.

But I wasn’t here to debate my grandmother’s spiritual beliefs. I was here to see Craig.

Er, I mean, I was here to dance. Focus, Dani, focus.

Chaîné, chaîné, chaîné, chaîné…

I spun off stage left in a series of quick turns alternating feet in progression, as if forming the human chain that gave the dance step its name. I couldn’t see them, but could hear the audience erupt in applause. Someone passed me a Dixie cup of coconut water. A couple swigs was all I had time for before running on for the coda, which brought all the dancers back to the stage to dance in unison.

Two minutes later, we hit the final pose of George Balanchine’s abstract ballet Rubies and the audience roared. I smiled as I looked out at the audience in the open-air amphitheatre. What a view! We must have danced really well to command their attention. I’d be very distracted if I was in their place, surrounded by Red Rocks as far as the eye could see.

I stepped forward with the rest of my line to curtsey and spotted Craig in the crowd. He did remember! He must have gotten the text and wanted to surprise me. Maybe he wasn’t so “Mr. Hollywood” after all.

My smile grew extra wide as I tried to catch his eye, but he leaned over to whisper something to the girl sitting next to him.

Even though she was wearing shades to try to remain incognito, I could spot those fake boobs anywhere. Amber Alexander.

Damn.

I stepped to the side of the stage to let the next line come forward for their curtain call and craned my neck to catch a glimpse of Hollywood’s newest vampire royalty. They got up to leave, but were stopped by a swarm of fangirls who wanted their autographs.

So much for Amber’s sunglasses.

We ran offstage as the applause started to die down. The festival organizers expected us to change and join the audience to watch the other schools’ performances, but I had other plans. I needed to find Craig.

I stripped off my tutu and bodice and threw on my “Life without ballet is pointeless” t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants over my tights. I would’ve preferred to dress a little more put together, but that’s all I had in my dance bag, and there wasn’t time to run back to the hotel first. At least my stage makeup wasn’t streaked, even though it was so cakey you could call me Betty Crocker.

Just as Craig finished signing, I emerged from the cave-like makeshift dressing rooms into the late afternoon sunlight. He flashed a megawatt smile at his adoring masses, put his arm around his costar, and ushered her towards the exit.

“Craig!” I called. “Wait!”

I ran in their direction, nearly tripping as I scaled the stadium seating, taking the steps two at a time. Good thing my muscles were still warm or I might have pulled something. And that would be bad. Very bad.

“Excuse me,” I said as I zipped past audience members, weaving so as not to barrel into anyone.

“Cuidado!”

I guess I did need to be more careful, I thought as I helped a toddler back to her feet, her mama rattling off a string of what I can only imagine must have been an entire palette of colorful Spanish curse words.

Oops. I apologized profusely and grand jetéed over a row of seats. Almost there…

Craig and Amber could not leave. Not yet. If this was my birthday surprise, he was going to have to do a lot better.

“Pardon me,” I said. “If I could just get by--”

“No.”

I looked up and saw a brick wall blocking my path. Well, no, not literally. It just seemed that way. A beefy guy wearing a black satin Midnight cast jacket crossed his arms and peered down at me.

“I just have to see Craig,” I explained.

“Ms. Alexander and Mr. Walsh are leaving now, so if you’ll just go back to your seat...”

“But you don’t understand.” I pulled myself up to my full five-foot-three and tried to look as important as possible. Not easy given my casual clothes. “Craig’s my…boyfriend.”

“Sure he is.” Security Dude looked me up and down, and then smirked. “And Ms. Alexander’s my fiancée.”

“But it’s my birth—”

“Dani, let’s go.” Maya came up beside me and took my arm. “This next group is supposed to be really good. They’re from the Navajo Nation.”

Analisa appeared on my other side. “We should watch,” she agreed, leading me away from the big guy. “I saw them last year. They’re amazing. I think their town is on the other side of the state border with New Mexico, but I’m not sure.”

“But…” I trailed off when I saw the expression on Analisa’s face. This obviously wasn’t open for debate. “Fine.”

We climbed back down to a group of Mountain Shadows students and took seats next to my art student roommate, Bev, as the opening strains of music wailed and the next group ran onstage to take their positions. “Madame is watching,” Analisa whispered. “You’ll get in trouble if you don’t stay here and support the dancers from the other schools.”

Maya nodded. “And after this session is over, we’re supposed to head over to the art gallery. Then tonight are the one acts from the drama students.”

“But what about supporting one of our own? Craig’s from our school and he’s here to act. Why can’t we see him?”

“Chasing after him isn’t exactly supporting him,” Analisa said. “Besides, you really think that rent-a-cop is going to let you onto the set? Seriously?”

“Shh!” The dance was starting, and the audience members wanted to watch. I’m sure the Navajo dancers were amazing, but how could people be more interested in that than a major motion picture being filmed just down the street? Not just any motion picture. Midnight!

Madame Renaud, our French teacher-slash-chaperone, glared at me.

Fine. I’ll behave. I sat back, listened to the beat of the drums, and let the dancing carry me away.

To be honest, I didn’t really know where I stood with Craig. Our relationship – if you could call it that – has always been like a ride on the Coney Island Cyclone. Just when I thought he liked me, something always came up. It’s not like he’d asked me to prom yet anyway. And I’d texted him several times and he never responded. I could try calling, but what would be the point? He seemed to have forgotten my birthday entirely.

Besides, I was enrolled in the summer intensive program at the Manhattan Ballet Conservatory, and Craig was going to graduate and go off to Yale, and I’d never see him again. Well, other than on the big screen.

Kissing Amber Alexander.

But he kissed me, too. Me. That had to count for something.

Right?

Robyn’s breath hitched. Jackson and Eric. Fighting over her!

“Stop it!” She ran into the middle of the fray. “Stop! Both of you!”

They ignored her, and continued to tussle, Eric seeming to take control as he lunged for Jackson’s jugular. Robyn screamed and threw her hands up in defense.

“I don’t give a damn what you think, Jackson,” Eric growled. “You must pay.”

“Please!” she yelled.

Eric paused for just a moment, his paws locked around Jackson’s neck, and looked her way. His eyes contained a vocabulary of their own, but just what he was trying to convey, Robyn didn’t know.

“You have to choose,” Jackson finally said, struggling to break free of the werewolf’s powerful grasp.

“I can’t,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “I care about you both.”

“You must,” Eric agreed, still poised to kill his rival.

“Fine! You want me to choose,” she said. “I’ll choose. If you promise not to kill each other, I’ll choose.”

Robyn was a Taurus, and like her brothers and sisters of that sign, a very confused being. Emotions warred inside her, pulling her in both directions, battering their fists at her until she made the decision that would break one man’s heart. How could she choose?

But how could she not?

Analisa sighed. “We don’t even know where they’re filming.”

“Sure you do,” Bev said from over on her side of the room where she was playing a video game on her iPad. “You’ve read that book cover to cover, Dani. Where do you think it would be?”

It was a few minutes past ten. Lights Out was in about twenty minutes, but my friends were hanging out in my hotel room, Maya lounging on my bed while Analisa stretched diligently on the floor over by the bathroom.

I bit my lip as I tried to remember any places Jackson, Robyn, or Eric had visited in Midnight. I hated to admit it, but I hadn’t paid a lot of attention to the setting. I was way more concerned with finding out which supernatural being Robyn was going to choose – the vampire or the werewolf. Of course, Bethany Beyer planned to drag her characters through the whole series and make us wait until the fourth book. Damn her. “Oh wait, Snoopy Rock?”

“Yes,” Bev said all drawn out slowly, her frustration showing, like she was talking to a two-year-old. She didn’t have to be so snippy about it.

An hour later we’d arrived at the Snoopy Rock trailhead. Sneaking out was surprisingly easy since there were no dorm monitors, and the hotel staff didn’t seem to care who came or went as long as everyone had a room key. The chaperones were probably already asleep, so nobody stopped us.

The hard part was getting here without a car but we decided to walk, using the Sedona map from the hotel’s front desk as a guide. Now once here, I wasn’t certain what to do. Or where exactly in the vast desert wilderness they might be filming. It’s not like there was a sign out front that read ‘Midnight set this way.’

“We can turn back,” Analisa said, a slight uptick in her tone.

Maya laughed. “Don’t be such a wimp, San Miguel.”

“Let’s go,” I said, stepping over a prickly pear cactus onto the trail, although I was going to hike out to the rock even if they didn’t come along. We’d already made it this far, so it would be stupid to turn back. A waste of sneaking out. Besides, even if Craig wasn’t in the cast, I’d still want to watch them film if I could. Midnight was my favoritest book ever!

“Fine,” Analisa grumbled, and fell into step beside me, with Maya and Bev following right behind.

I couldn’t believe we managed to get my roommate to join – usually she spent her waking hours doing her very best J.D. Salinger impression and avoiding the rest of the world – but I think she was just as eager as I was to see how the director was going to portray the vampires and werewolves. Bev may pretend to be this cynical urban rebel nonconformist, but I saw the full set of Midnight books loaded on her e-reader app. She wasn’t fooling anyone.

In the distance, a coyote howled. The full moon glowed brightly overhead, lighting the path and making our flashlights unnecessary. It looked like a scary Halloween moon, and I almost expected a witch to fly silhouetted across it on a broomstick at any moment. And to think it was April, not October! If I hadn’t known Craig was just acting the role of a vampire, I’d probably be worried.

Vampires aren’t real, vampires aren’t real, I silently chanted to the steady beat of our feet crunching in the gravel.

“Yes they are,” Bev said.

Oops, maybe I said that out loud.

“Don’t encourage her,” Analisa said through gritted teeth.

“But vampires are real,” Bev insisted. “The portrayals you see in the movies or in most books — most of those are poseurs. Fangs? Not so much.”

“No fangs?” I asked.

“Well, I guess technically they do, and they’re called canines. All humans have them.”

I scrunched up my forehead. “Then how do they drink blood?”

“Donors,” Bev deadpanned.

“Ew, seriously? So gross.”

“I vant to bite your neck,” Maya said in an over-the-top old skool Count Dracula accent. Well, actually more like Count Chocula. Or even the Count from Sesame Street.

But definitely not what Jackson would say.

“That’s full of crap,” Bev insisted. “It’s not like that.”

Analisa sighed. “Let’s just keep going.”

I could see a large outcropping of rocks up ahead, but from this angle it didn’t quite look like the shape of the famous Peanuts dog. Were we on the wrong track? I didn’t want to hike all night and never get there.

“They say Sedona is one of the best towns in the country for vampires,” Bev said a few minutes later.

“There’s no such thing as vampires,” Analisa said.

We fell into an eerie silence as we kept moving forward. With the full moon overhead and the lunar-like boulders jutting up from the center of the earth, I could easily imagine vampires living here. Maybe they could run one of the many crystal shops around town. Ooh, or the fortune tellers. Of course, nobody would be able to read their minds. I mean, since they’re vampires and all. But that could end up as a professional advantage.

I was imagining what it would be like to get my aura cleansed by an immortal bloodsucker when all of a sudden there was a pinch at the back of my neck. Shivers raced up and down my spine and a chill of terror settled in my gut as I heard a blood-curdling shriek.

From me.

Bev was right – there were definitely vampires here, and not of the movie set variety, either. Of the creepy undead variety. Although if they looked anything like the vampires in Midnight, then maybe I wouldn’t be too upset. I mean, after all, Robyn Bell seemed thrilled to be caught in the middle of the love triangle between a vampire and a werewolf.

What did she know that I didn’t?

It was only after my friends erupted in giggles that I noticed Maya standing right behind me, her fingers mere centimeters from my skin threatening to tickle me.

“What the hell?” I asked.

“Relax,” she said. “You’re way too tense.”

“It’s not funny,” I said through gritted teeth.

“You’re right,” Maya said. “It’s not funny. It’s hilarious.”

Analisa stepped between us, always the moderator. If this whole dance thing didn’t work out, maybe she could be a judge. “Let’s just keep going.”

Bev plopped down on a rock. “We need to take a break. I’m tired.”

“Good call—what the?”

My question was cut off as I tripped. But not over my own two feet. And not Maya’s, Analisa’s, or Bev’s either.

Over someone else’s feet. Someone who was lying facedown in the dirt.

One quick glance at her shoes made short work of explaining how she got there. Or rather, the red soles did. Loubies instead of hiking boots? Dude. No wonder she fell.

And unless they were the knockoff Oh Deer kind, I had a sneaking suspicion those telltale red soles also explained who she was even before turning her face up.

Analisa leaned over. “Oh my God!” She gulped. “It’s – it’s a person.”

“And she’s not moving.” Yes, that’s me. Captain Obvious for the win!

“Is she dead?” Bev asked.

“I…don’t think so,” I said, although I had to admit that despite my previous adventures in amateur sleuthing, I’d never seen a dead person before.

I bent down to check for a pulse and realized I wasn’t sure where to find one. I turned her head to the side.

Yup. Those red soles were for walking the red carpet, not hiking the Red Rocks.

Amber Alexander.

Maya kneeled next to me, cradling Amber’s head in her lap as I placed two fingers against Amber’s neck. I don’t know. I guess I felt a pulse – a sort of shallow thump-thump-thump.

Unless that was mine. My heart was beating pretty fast. Maybe Analisa was right. We should have stayed back at the hotel. I had this really unfortunate habit of trouble following me wherever I went. You couldn’t take me anywhere.

Although, with Amber Alexander out of the picture…

Analisa swatted my hand like a fly. “Here, let me see.”

And that’s when I spotted it. Two small round punctures in the side of her neck. Apparently her shoes weren’t the reason for her fall.

I jumped. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod vampires!”

“Someone call 911!”

My friends all started talking at once, a melee of confusion, excitement, and fear as they gathered around the unconscious actress. I kneeled next to her and tried to remember the CPR I’d learned in my babysitting certification course a couple of years ago but my hands were so shaky that I couldn’t perform the chest compressions. I leaned over and felt a faint hot puff of air on my cheek. Thank goodness.

“She’s breathing!”

“Are those fang bites?” Maya asked.

Bev shrugged. “I told you. It’s not like that. She must have provoked him if he bit her.”

Analisa shook her head in exasperation. “She wasn’t bitten by a vampire.”

Was she for real? I pointed at the wounds. “Look.” How could she ignore the evidence?

“She’s making a movie about vampires,” Analisa insisted. “That’s just makeup.”

An itching sensation spread all over my body, and I scratched my elbow trying to get rid of it. Could fear manifest itself in hives? I had no idea, but I had a feeling it was just my imagination. “No, it can’t be makeup. Jackson never bites Robyn’s neck in the book, so unless they changed it for the screenplay, that bite is not for the movie.”

“It looks pretty real to me,” Maya agreed.

Bev shoved a chunk of dyed black hair behind her row of piercings. “That’s because vampires are real. Why do you think Bethany set her book here in Sedona?”

“Cualquiera que sera.” Analisa pulled her phone out of her pocket. “What matters is that we get her medical attention. Now.”

While Analisa dialed, the rest of us heave-hoed Amber off the ground and started to carry her back to the street, struggling despite her light frame. She was all dead weight. Okay, bad word choice.

Analisa ran up to us. “The EMTs are coming. They’ll meet us out in that parking lot we passed on the way in and take her to the hospital.”

We’d been hiking for what, ten minutes before we found her? So hopefully we could get her to the ambulance while she was still breathing.

Not exactly how I’d planned to spend my last night as a fourteen-year-old. So much for finding Craig.

“She’s too heavy,” Bev said. “I gotta rest.”

Bev’s breathing suddenly sounded like a three-pack-a-day smoker. No, wait. That wasn’t Bev. That was Amber.

“What’s wrong her?” Maya asked. “Why’s she breathing like that?”

Analisa’s normally calm voice morphed into a Minnie Mouse squeak. “Is she having a heart attack?”

I shook my head frantically. “She’s wheezing. Does anyone have an inhaler?” My friends signaled ‘no.’ “We have to put her down and prop open her air passage.”

As we lowered her limp, convulsing body to the ground, I heard a sickening pop as a searing burn ripped through my left leg. No. No. No! This could not be happening.

A string of words that a nice Two-Day-Catholic girl should never repeat in public spewed forth from my mouth like ash from a volcano. Speaking of which, my knee felt like it was made of molten lava – warm and squishy to the touch.

Visions of physical therapy danced in my head as I tried to bear weight and instead winced in pain. If it was what I thought, then I was currently living my worst nightmare. Potentially career-ending devastation.

But I didn’t have time to think about that right now if we were going to help Amber.

Bev grasped Amber’s hand and squeezed. “Don’t tell me we have two invalids now.”

“I’m fine.”

But I wasn’t. Not really. The pain was debilitating, but I didn’t really have a choice. We had to get the starlet to the hospital.

“Let’s go.” My fingertips grazed Analisa’s shoulder as I steadied myself. I would not let myself cry. At least I was still conscious.

I looked down at Amber’s now nearly listless form, covered in red welts. Wait a second. Did she have those before? Her skin was swelling right in front of my eyes. Heck, in front of her eyes, too. Closed they were mere slits, like the knife indentations pinching into the rising dough of a baguette as it baked.

“I don’t think vampires cause that kind of reaction, do they?” Maya had obviously noticed it, too.

That’s when I remembered I was wearing flip-flops. How did I know? Because I felt a tickle on my toe, followed by a brushing sensation, but was able to jump out of the way despite my hurt knee.

I bent over and took a closer look at Amber’s neck. I’d been so focused on the punctures that I totally missed the tiny little red bumps at the sting site earlier. I slung my off my backpack and dug around inside until I found what I was looking for, then wound up and jammed it into her as hard as I possibly could.

No, not a wooden stake to the heart. Total cliché. Besides, even though she was my rival for Craig’s attention, we’d been trying to save Amber, not kill her. Anyway, duh, everyone knows vampires aren’t real.

Analisa yanked the curtains closed after the doctor left. “I still can’t believe how fast you reacted, Dani.”

“No kidding,” Bev said as she leaned against the exam table. “I’ve been stung by a scorpion before but it was nothing like that.”

Maya tossed me my shorts. (I couldn’t wait to get out of this ugly hospital gown.) “Amber’s lucky you were there.”

Oh, I forgot to tell you. We never did make it to the road. The EMTs, who had to hike into the wilderness to find us, confirmed my suspicion. Amber Alexander had a rare anaphylactic reaction to a scorpion bite. Like all kids with peanut allergy, my EpiPen is more precious than an American Express card – I never leave home without it.

Analisa smiled. “You saved her life.”

Yeah, I guess I did.

So she could go right back to kissing Craig.

Using crutches to take my weight off of the injury, I limped away from the ER behind my friends. Yay me. The scorpion bite wasn’t all I was right about tonight. Forget barre exercises at the prestigious Manhattan Ballet Conservatory summer intensive program. Or even yoga exercises at one of the little New Age shops lining the streets of Sedona. The next few months would be spent doing PT exercises on the long road to recovery.

If I was lucky.

I didn’t even know how I hurt it, but the doctor diagnosed it as chondromalacia, which is basically just a fancy name for when the knee cap rubs up against the thigh bone instead of gliding smoothly against it, roughening the cartilage underneath in the process. Freak accident? Repetitive stress injury? Who knows? Not that it mattered. Serious dance careers have been over before they even began for much, much less.

Shit.

“Dani!”

For the second time today, a guy blocked my path as Craig’s unmistakable voice crashed my pity party.

Er, make that the first time today. If the clock above the registration desk was to be believed, it was nearly three AM.

Tomorrow already. My birthday.

“Uh, hi.” Wow, when did I become such a sparkling conversationalist?

He rushed over and enveloped his arms around me. “Are you okay?”

The wrap on my knee and crutches under my armpits should have been his first clue. But even though I’m fluent in sarcasm, I decided to play it straight this once. “It hurts,” I said with a shrug.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to coordinate my tux to your crutches,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “I guess I never got around to asking you, did I?” He shot me a sheepish grin. “Will you go to prom with me?”

Good thing I had the crutches to prop me up, because I nearly fell over from the shock. “But what about Amber Alexander?”

“The doctors said she’ll be okay. We’re just going to film some scenes without her for the next few days, and then she’ll be back at it next week, so you don’t need to worry about her.” He smiled. “You saved her life.”

“Yeah.”

No wonder painkiller abuse was so rampant. I must have only imagined he’d asked me to prom. It was nice while it lasted.

“So, you never answered,” he said. “Will you go with me?”

The Vicodin was definitely causing hallucinations. “To prom?”

Craig nodded, his bright blue eyes silently pleading with me to answer. I felt a hot flush in my cheeks.

“But I thought you liked Amber.”

“As a friend.”

“You kissed her.”

He laughed. “It’s called acting.”

“That’s not what the L.A. Informer said.”

He laid his hands on my shoulder and held me an arm’s length apart. “Do you really believe everything you read in the tabloids?”

“But Hadley said--”

“Oh, come on,” Maya said. (I didn’t even realize she was standing right there.) “Just answer him already!”

Before I could respond, Craig’s mouth was on mine. Kissing me. Slowly at first, then with more urgency. Tingles danced throughout my body as I kissed him back.

Finally he pulled away. “That wasn’t acting,” he whispered. “Happy birthday, Dani.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE

The adventures continue in the Dani Spevak Mystery Series – Codename: Dancer, Pointe of No Return (June 2012), and Pas De Death (2013). This short story stands alone and can be read in any order, although chronologically it is #2.5. J

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After writing her first manuscript (which she now realizes was blatant Nancy Drew fanfic) at the ripe old age of nine, Amanda Brice took a nearly twenty-year hiatus before returning to the craft. She is a two-time finalist for the Golden Heart® award, and is president of Washington Romance Writers. An attorney by day, Amanda is also a popular speaker on the writing conference circuit with her copyright law workshops. For more information, please visit www.amandabrice.net.