Stage Fright (Bit Parts) Read online

  “Not that bad?! You need to file a police report!”

  “What?! No way.”

  I ground my teeth. “Andrew, he physically attacked you. That’s abuse!”

  “I know you have faith in the system because of your dad being a deputy sheriff and all, but I don’t.” He looked out the window at the passing cars. “If the police get called out because a man is beating on a woman, they do the right thing. But two men fighting? All they see is a couple of guys who let things get out of control. I mean, I look like someone who can take care of himself, right?”

  I had to agree. With his height and musculature, Andrew definitely looked capable of fighting back.

  Andrew drew a sad face on the fogged-up window. “A while back, a neighbor called the cops after they saw Caleb take a swing at me. When the police got there, they told us to break it up and not play so rough.”

  My stomach dropped. “This has happened before?”

  “Once or twice.”

  I took his hand. “I’m proud of you for leaving him.”

  He squeezed my fingers.

  We drove to my house in silence. After we’d hauled all of Andrew’s things inside, I showed him to my parents’ old bedroom. “You get the Geranium Room,” I said. My mother, a thematic decorator, had painted the walls an odd shade of green, hung geranium-print curtains in the windows, and spread a geranium-print comforter on the bed. “Feel free to nerd up the place however you want.”

  The corners of Andrew’s lips quirked, but his eyes remained miserable. “Do you mind if I have a little alone time? I need to play some Portal.”

  Portal was Andrew’s go-to video game for when life got overwhelming. Even though he’d already won it eight times, he said there was something Zen-like about wandering through the empty hallways of the game’s weird scientific lab.

  “Sure,” I said.

  “And take my cell phone.” He pressed it into my hands. “Even if I ask for it back, don’t give it to me, okay?”

  No worries there. I stuffed his phone into my pocket while Andrew went into the bedroom and shut the door. I should have been thrilled – after all, I’d wanted him as my roommate all along – but the pain in his eyes kept me from celebrating.

  An hour later, I knocked on the bedroom door and poked my head inside. Andrew stared at the screen of his laptop with eyes that were red and puffy.

  “Care to join me in a little Chunky Monkey?” I held out the ice cream carton. Ben and Jerry’s was my personal cure-all for broken heartedness.

  He set his laptop aside and patted the bed next to him. I sat down and handed him a spoon. “I have a present for you, too.” I set the bag from Holy Comics in his lap.

  When he saw the Detective comic, he pressed his lips tightly together. “Cassie, this is amazing.” His voice was rough. “Thanks.” He hugged me, hanging on for a long time.

  “I’m getting Chunky Monkey down my shirt,” I finally told him. The ice cream had been squashed between us and was oozing down my front as it melted.

  He laughed a little and let go. Together, we spooned up the ice cream. I was dying to tell him about everything that had happened to me over the past twenty-four hours, but he was already so overwhelmed, I couldn’t burden him with more heavy stuff. And given the state of his love life, gushing about an uber-hot baseball player turned vampire hunter would be cruel.

  Instead, I went for a rhetorical debate. “What if vampires didn’t just need blood to survive?” I asked. “What if they need human souls as well?”

  “That’s a random question.” He thoughtfully licked his spoon. “Why would they need souls?”

  “Because they don’t have any of their own. If they don’t have any soul, then they would turn into animals.”

  “So they need soul in order to remain civilized.” When I nodded, he continued, “So the more passionate the soul, the more they’d like it.”

  “That makes sense,” I said.

  “Which would mean that the souls of musicians and actors would be the most delectable since artists tend to be very passionate people.”

  I shivered at his observation. No wonder Hedda owned a theater, a music hall, and an art gallery. Those places would be smorgasbords.

  I went for another spoonful of ice cream, but the carton was empty. “Are you still hungry? I have peanut butter and jelly. I may even have un-moldy bread.”

  A heavy thud from outside made us jump. Andrew looked at me wide-eyed. “What was that?”

  For a moment, I wasn’t sure, but then I smiled. “It’s my neighbor. Every week he forgets about garbage pickup until after midnight, then he has to get out of bed and drag his cans to the curb so he won’t miss the morning garbage truck.”

  Andrew still looked worried. “Are you positive?”

  I started to say yes, then stopped. What if it was Caleb messing around outside? I’d taken Andrew in without thinking how his possessive boyfriend might react. Then a worse thought struck me. What if the lurker was a vampire? Suddenly, the ice cream was lying too heavy on my stomach.

  I scrambled across the bed and peeked through the blinds. To my relief, I saw Earl wheeling his garbage to the curb. “The coast is clear.”

  Andrew’s face relaxed. “Good.”

  Still, I was uneasy. “Does Caleb know where I live?”

  Andrew shook his head. “If I thought you were in danger, I’d leave right this minute.”

  “Don’t leave.”

  He smiled. “I’ll stay as long as you let me. Maybe even longer.”

  I resumed my seat next to him, and he put his arm around me. I rested my head on his shoulder and turned on the small TV sitting on the dresser. Within minutes, Andrew had fallen asleep, but I remained tense, listening for strange sounds outside the window. What if Caleb did find out where I lived? He’d probably do something much worse than throw a cup of Coke at my window. And what about the vampires? Isaiah said they couldn’t get inside my house, but then again, he and Perry didn’t know much about what really went on in Hedda’s grieve.

  That thought worried me so much that I slipped out of bed and checked the window and door locks. There was a withered bulb of garlic in the refrigerator. Should I hang it somewhere?

  Since it was after two o’clock, I didn’t want to wake Isaiah. Still, my nervous imagination wouldn’t let me sleep. Every gust of wind made my heart flutter. I decided to put on my pajamas, hoping that would relax me. As I took off my jeans, something heavy slipped from my pocket. The crystal prism from the Bleak’s chandelier. Shaped like a teardrop, it was about the size of a fig. Since I wouldn’t be returning to the theater for a while, I hung the prism in the window over the kitchen sink, thinking it would make a terrific sun catcher. Then I settled back on the bed next to Andrew. I flipped through channels on the TV, finally stopping at a re-broadcast of the local news. If anything would bore me to sleep, it was this.

  But as I snuggled next to Andrew once more, a picture of Darryl flashed on the screen. The TV remote slipped from my hand. The anchor said, “In another story, twenty-four-year-old Darryl Pitkin is still missing…”

  He wasn’t missing; he’d been torn to bits by rogue vampires. I touched the burn on my neck, thinking about my attack. Those monsters had been human once. I also considered the hidden vampire victims. Those people who now lived in a beak, empty world because their shine had been stolen. Perry and Isaiah could fight off the monsters, but they couldn’t stop them from being created. Not unless someone did something.

  Someone like me.

  I slipped out of bed and dug my cell phone out of my purse. Quickly, I texted Isaiah. I’ll be ur spy.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning, the aroma of chocolate lured me into the kitchen. Andrew stood at the stove. Every surface of the kitchen was covered with freshly-made pies, plates of cookies, and other sweets.

  Andrew looked over his shoulder and grinned at me. “You’re just in time for breakfast!”

  I sagged into a chair, sho
ving aside an apple pie and a container of macaroons. “You’ve been busy.”

  He turned back to the stove. “Cooking helps me think.”

  He must have been awake for hours, but I’d been too deeply asleep to notice. A surprise, considering that all night I’d been plagued with nightmares of vampires, psycho ex-boyfriends, and actors dangling above a stage like helpless puppets.

  Breakfast was banana pancakes with some kind of bittersweet chocolate sauce whose smell alone added ten pounds to my figure. I ate until I felt sick and even then, my mouth was demanding more.

  I put a hand to my bulging stomach. “You can’t cook like this all the time.”

  “Not with what’s in your kitchen, I can’t. When’s the last time you bought groceries? I wanted to make paprika chicken for lunch, but you don’t have any chicken. Or paprika!” He showed me a picture of stuffed mushroom caps on his iPad. “What do you think of this as an appetizer for dinner?”

  His post-breakup cooking binge was going to boost me six dress sizes. “Sorry, but I won’t be here for dinner. I have to work a shift at my uncle’s restaurant.”

  He stuck out his lower lip in a pretty pout. “Fine. Have it your way. But can I borrow your car while you’re working? I want to get to the gym and then run some errands. Where’s the nearest Whole Foods?”

  “Andrew! You can’t afford to shop there.” That grocery store chain was nicknamed Whole Paycheck for a reason.

  He shrugged. “I’m a foodie, what can I say?”

  “Yes, but now you’re an unemployed foodie. You should be eating store-brand spaghetti sauce and boxed mac and cheese like the rest of us poor actors.”

  He drew back, appalled. “Never!” Then, seeing my frown, he said, “Don’t worry, Cassie. I won’t leech off of you. I’ll pay my share of rent or whatever.”

  “I won’t charge you rent since I don’t have to pay it myself, but there are utilities. And if you really are going to do all your shopping at Whole Foods, you’ll need to buy your own groceries since I can’t afford to eat like that.”

  “I understand.” He sighed. “I’m just not used to paying my own bills. I’ve never even had my own bank account. When I was still at home, my dad handled all of the money. Even my mom didn’t get a say. If I had my own cash, my dad told me what to spend it on. ”

  Poor guy. It was like he’d never been allowed to grow up. It also sounded like Caleb and his father were cut from the same cloth. No wonder Andrew had allowed his ex-boyfriend to run his life.

  I mentally tallied Andrew’s expenses, and when I told him how much he’d need every month, he blanched. “I’ve got to get a job. And soon.”

  “There’s always 16 Voices.”

  “Yeah, about that.” He avoided my eyes. “I couldn’t sleep last night because I was thinking. A lot.” He took a deep breath. “I’m giving up acting.”

  For a moment, I was too stunned to speak. Then I said, “You can’t! Acting is your dream.”

  He stared at his empty plate. “That’s just the thing. It’s not my dream. I went into acting because Caleb pushed me into it. I don’t mind it, but I don’t love it. Not like you.” His finally raised his eyes to meet mine. “It’s time for me to switch gears.”

  “And do what?”

  He picked up his iPad and made a few swipes with his finger. “Look! Did you know there’s a culinary arts school here in Motown with three master chefs on staff?” He showed me a webpage of course listings from the college. “They’ve got scholarships, and they can help me get financial aid.” He grinned. “I’m going to apply for the winter semester.”

  The sparkle in his eyes said that he was as passionate about cooking as I was about acting. Although it was disappointing that we wouldn’t be chasing the same dream, I loved how his face glowed. “You should definitely go for it!”

  “Do you really mean that?” he asked shyly.

  “Of course I mean it!” I leaned over and hugged him. “You’ll be a wonderful chef.”

  He hugged me back tightly. “Thanks, Cassie. It’s so good to have someone in my corner.”

  “When I’m a famous actress, I promise to sign a head shot and let you hang it on the wall of your restaurant.”

  “And will you star in a commercial?” he asked. “Maybe sing a catchy jingle or something?”

  “Only if you’ll sing it with me.”

  He laughed. “It’s a deal.”

  As I was dressing, Isaiah called. I eagerly picked up, expecting to hear a voice like warm caramel on the other end of the line.

  Unfortunately, his voice was more like scorched caramel. “What do you mean you’ll be our spy? I thought we agreed that you were staying away from the Bleak Street!” His outraged baritone could have started an avalanche.

  “Well, good morning to you, too,” I said lightly. “Did someone forget to take his SPD meds today?”

  There was a brief pause. When he spoke again, his tone was slightly softer. “The Bleak Street isn’t safe.”

  “I won’t be at the Bleak Street. Auditions were moved to Mercury Hall.”

  “Which is another of Hedda’s interests. That place is off limits, too.”

  Actually, since sending that text, I’d been having second thoughts as well. I wasn’t sure if I was prepared to go back among the vampires. But whenever I remembered finding Darryl’s severed foot, my resolve returned. One way or another, I had to stop the rogue vampire plague.

  I stood up and closed the bedroom door, aware that Andrew was probably hanging on every word. “Listen, Perry said that you needed a spy, right? So far I don’t see anyone lining up to fill that job. Didn’t I give you a lot of great information last night?”

  He didn’t say anything, but I pictured him glaring.

  “No ‘buts’; I’m going to do this.” I softened my voice. “Don’t worry; I’ll be careful.”

  “You don’t know how to be careful!”

  “You said the rogues can’t come out during the day, right? So I don’t have to worry about them. And as for, Victor, well…” I suppressed a shudder, remembering how casually he’d fed off Darryl. “… I’ll wear a giant crucifix. No, I’ll wear ten giant crucifixes, and I’ll spread myself with garlic butter. I’ll shower in holy water! I’ll stuff my purse with wooden stakes and carry a mirror like a shield. How’s that?”

  He snorted. “Not good enough.”

  I bit my lip. If I wasn’t careful, Isaiah was liable to talk me out of spying. Still, I had to do my part to keep the rogues under control. No one should have to end up like Darryl or endure what I had gone through. “I’m going,” I said firmly.

  Isaiah gave in with a sigh. “I guess I can’t stop you. But afterwards, I want you at the store so I can train you how to take out a rogue.”

  “Unfortunately, I have to work this afternoon, and my friend is borrowing my car, so I won’t have a ride.” I hesitated. “But you could pick me up. If you wanted to.”

  His voice finally softened to the warm caramel sound I’d been longing to hear. “I’d be happy to pick you up.”

  I decided to press my luck a little more. “Now, before you hang up, I want you to stop being a vampire hunter for a few seconds and tell me something normal. Something nice.” Phone conversations always bring out the flirt in me.

  “Your ‘showering in holy water’ speech made me smile, and I like having someone to smile with.”

  He hung up before I could respond, but when I put the phone into my pocket, I had a large smile of my own.

  Andrew sat in the kitchen reading a battered Betty Crocker cookbook that my mother had gotten as a bridal shower gift thirty years before.

  “If you’re looking for that moussaka recipe, you’ll never find it in there,” I said. “My mom took her best recipes with her to Florida.”

  “It figures,” he said, closing the book.

  I grabbed my coat, and dug in the bottom of my purse for my keys.

  “Where are you going?” he asked. “I didn’t think you had t
o work until this afternoon.”

  “Work on 16 Voices starts today.” b

  “You’re really going to be Charles’s stage manager again?” When I sighed and nodded, he said, “Funny how the title ‘stage manager’ starts with S and M.” He pushed the cookbook aside and stretched. “How about if I tag along? I don’t want a part, but I can help you with auditions. It will be like American Idol, acting edition. We can be Paula and Simon.”

  I hesitated. As much as I wanted Andrew’s company, taking him to vampire central wasn’t an option.

  Sensing my reluctance, he said. “Or I can just stay here and clean up. No offense, Cassie, but your housekeeping skills are pretty lame. When’s the last time you mopped the floor?”

  Andrew plus boredom might result in a clean house, but a clean house might result in someone making an offer. And if someone made an offer, then I could find myself evicted. Maybe I should let him tag along. Then I scolded myself. I couldn’t lead an unsuspecting lamb into a hungry lion’s den. If my parents’ house sold because of Andrew, then so be it. At least he’d be safe.

  Before I left, Andrew asked for his cell phone back. I dug it out of the box of tampons where I’d hidden it.

  He made a face. “Well, that’s not disgusting or anything.”

  I patted his back. “It’s all part of having a female roommate.”

  Andrew listened his voice mail. At his stricken expression, I told him to put the phone on speaker.

  Altogether, there were ten messages. Hearing them back-to-back was like flipping through the pages of a flick book where each individual picture creates a moving image. Only in this case, instead of seeing a bouncing ball or a rising sun, we saw a portrait of a man who was losing control.

  Caleb’s first two messages started out all right. “Hey, Drew. I’m sorry, okay? Where are you?”

  That rapidly progressed to the ‘poor me’ stage. “Where are you? You know I’ve been having a really shitty week, so why are you acting like this?”

  The final two were the worst. “Where the fuck are you? You’d better get your ass home. Don’t be such a little bitch!”