Now that I had everything I needed, I hesitated. Chicken. Just do it. “Can we talk? It's Emma,” I texted.

  I wasn't sure if he would reply. I stuck the phone in my pocket and ordered myself to go back to the others so I wouldn't obsess.

  My phone vibrated before I had taken my second step.

  I stopped, turned around, and whipped out my phone. Had he really answered?

  He had!

  “Sure, what's up?”

  Here goes nothing. “I'm sorry your spring got ruined.”

  “No big deal. I'll live.”

  “I wouldn't have been able to save him. I'm going to start studying magic like you guys said.”

  “Good. You should. But I knew because Mrs. L did it for me once. I was one of the slow learners.”

  He had been a troublemaker? I couldn't picture it. I thought about him bonding with all those campers and jumping in to make them feel better about themselves. I could picture it. “If you hadn't been you, Owen might have died.”

  He didn't answer, so I sent another text. “Can I text you?”

  “Isn't that what we're doing?”

  “I mean later. From home.”

  "Sure.”

  “Good.”

  Mrs. L was calling me over. “One last piece of business. Each of you has earned a bonus this week.”

  “One free selfish potion?” Scott asked.

  “No. Close. The punishment for your next selfish charm or potion will be attenuated. The punishment will be milder and shorter in duration.”

  We all cheered.

  “Now grab your things from your cabins. Your parents will be here any minute.”

  Sophie busted me as soon as we were alone. “What happened with Ian?”

  “How do you know something happened with Ian?”

  “You're grinning like a love-sick idiot.”

  “Thanks.”

  She crossed her arms. “Tell me or die.”

  “I texted him. We're going to talk. Well, text.”

  Sophie hugged me. “He is so perfect for you. I'm proud of you.”

  “Proud of me?”

  “Yeah, you're so shy and reserved. I was worried you wouldn't talk to him.”

  Shy and reserved? Really. I wasn't that bad. Sure, I didn't have her experience with boys, but…

  “Let's go,” she said, grabbing her rolling suitcase and bags.

  I grabbed my suitcase full of dirty laundry and went out the door of our cabin for the last time.

  “You know what, Emma?” Sophie asked. “I had fun this week.”

  “Me too. We should come back.”

  Her upper lip curled in disgust. “Are you nuts?”

  I was a little nuts.

  We passed Ian's cabin just as he and Scott came out. I smiled at him, and I could tell he was smiling back despite the bandana covering the lower half of his face. I could see the smile in his eyes. Instead of avoiding me, he walked along beside me.

  Rolling our suitcases on the pea gravel path was a bit awkward. Scott and Ian carried their duffels easily. They didn't walk ahead though. Sophie chattered to Scott about all of the things she would do when she got home.

  As we walked, Ian caught my hand and threaded his fingers through mine. I squeezed, and he squeezed back. The thrill of his touch chased away my fatigue.

  I could see our parents standing near their cars in the parking lot, and I knew this was my last chance.

  “Wait,” I said.

  I stopped, and he stopped and turned toward me.

  Sophie and Scott were a few feet away.

  “Promise you'll text,” I said.

  He nodded.

  “I'm so glad Sophie got busted for sneaking out with her boyfriend.”

  He tilted his head to one side in confusion.

  “Never mind,” I said. Then I did the bravest thing I've ever done. I put my free hand on his arm and stood on my tiptoes as I leaned in to kiss his cheek, right above the paisley on his bandana. His cheek was a little scratchy and warm. Heat rose in my face as I met his eyes.

  He put his arm on the small of my back and tugged me into a hug. The hug made me wish I never had to leave Camp Cauldron.

  He released me and walked me across the lot and over to my car. Sophie and Mom were already talking, and I was sure Sophie had ratted me out.

  “Mom,” I said. “This is Ian, and he can’t talk right now. But it isn't his fault. That he can't talk, I mean.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ian,” Mom said. She shook his hand.

  Then Ian loaded our giant suitcases into the minivan. He waved goodbye, paused for a second, and actually bowed toward me and Mom. He walked over to the SUV, where a man and woman were doing a pitiful job of hiding their curiosity.

  I waved at them as the woman hugged him, and then I climbed into the van.

  I hadn't been anywhere this soft, cushy, and high tech in a week, and every muscle in my body relaxed as I sank into the seat. Sophie had her head down and was texting already.

  “So,” my mother said as she started the engine. “What have I missed?”

  I didn't answer. I closed my eyes to keep the memory fresh. I couldn't fight my grin as the van crunched the gravel under its tires, and we pulled out of the camp.

  Through the fabric of my khaki shorts, I felt my cell vibrate.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  For more magic, more kissing, and a cute guy who doesn't have fish lips, check out Zoe's story, Stirring Up Trouble.

  ***

  Juli Alexander writes young adult romances and romantic comedies for teens. In “Camp Cauldron,” Emma shies away from her magic, but Zoe has a passion for potions in Stirring Up Trouble. She’s searching for a substitution for toad slime and hopes to cure disease. In the April 2012 release, The Karma Beat, Jen, a genie, risks getting banished to the other realm. And in May 2012, Ally deals with unpleasant realities as a teen with divorced parents in My Life as the Ugly Stepsister. https://www.julialexanderauthor.com

  Back to Table of Contents

  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 th
e 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 st
op 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.”