A Midsummer Night's Scream (8 page)

“Claire, check it out.” Delia elbowed me.

I followed her gaze. Annalee was on the far side of the room. She was cozying up to a tall, red-bearded crew member. She kept touching the front of his t-shirt and smoothing her hand on his shoulder as she talked. The guy seemed to like it. He had a big grin on his face.

Annalee spotted us, let go of the crew guy, and came running over. She was wearing a pink, very low-cut top over white shorts. She almost knocked me over, wrapping me in a hug. Like we were long-lost sisters or something.

“Isn’t this exciting?” she gushed. “Can you believe it? We’re in a movie?” She backed off, nodded at Delia, and straightened the top of her blouse, which was almost down to her waist.

“It’s Lana’s big scene today,” I said. “But look at her. Does she look thrilled? Not.”

Lana huddled by the catering table with her costar, Jeremy Dane, who plays Randy. She looked totally stressed. She kept flipping through the script, stabbing her finger at different lines. Jeremy had his arm around her waist and kept nodding his head solemnly.

“Jeremy keeps looking at me,” Delia whispered. “I think he likes me.”

I figured Jeremy just wanted to get away from Lana. But I didn’t say anything to spoil Delia’s fantasy.

“Jeremy is so sweet,” Annalee said. “I just love him. He and I have so much in common.”

Oh, wow. Please kill me now.

She squeezed my hand. She had to be the
touchiest
person on earth. “Claire, I’ve been texting you. About your birthday party. I want to help. What can I do? Why don’t you come over, and we’ll sit by the pool and toss ideas back and forth? I’d love that. I have all kinds of ideas for you.”

Annalee, I don’t even want to invite you to my party.

“Yeah. Thanks,” I managed to say. I pulled my hand free from her grip. “My parents are planning most of it. It’s going to be a huge deal. You know. Here at the studio.”

Her face twisted into a pout. “But you’ll let me know what I can do? I really want to be there for you, dear.”

Thank you, dear.

I know I sound catty. But trust me. She’s a terrible person. She’ll cling to you like a leech if you let her get too close. Why do you think Delia hadn’t said a word? She knows Annalee, too.

“I’m so
pumped,
” Annalee said. “I’ve been practicing my screams. I’m getting really good at it. I practiced them with Jake last night.”

My breath caught in my throat. “You were with Jake last night?”

She nodded. She had an evil grin on her face. She knew what she was doing to me. “He’s so awesomely adorable … isn’t he?”

Now
I
wanted to scream.

It was going to be a day of a lot of screams. Les Bachman wanted to get something difficult out of the way. So he decided to shoot Cindy’s horrifying murder first.

The writers wanted to improve the scene from the original script. In our version, the six teenagers are in the dining room. Randy and Tony get into a shoving match. They bump the dining-room sideboard. A sword falls from the ceiling and
slices Cindy in half
.

“Cutting off a hand is too tame for today’s audiences,” Les explained to us all during rehearsals. “These days, you have to slice a whole body.” He shook his head. “Give the audience what it wants, right?”

Of course, it would be different from the original film. The slicing would all be done with CGI.

I shivered. It was freezing cold and damp inside the house. I wished I could pull on a sweatshirt or something, but I wasn’t supposed to mess up my costume or my hair.

I raised my eyes past the catwalk to the high ceiling and saw the two crossed swords hovering over the long dining-room table. Seeing those swords made me shiver again. Nothing had changed in this house in sixty years.

And once again I saw the moment in the original movie when the sword dropped from the ceiling and cut off Cindy’s hand. Cut it off so neatly. So cleanly … clean until her blood started to pump out like a fountain.

A horrible death. Right here. Right where Delia and Annalee and I were standing.

And we were about to do the scene all over again.

Delia gave me a gentle elbow poke. “Stop thinking grim thoughts,” she said.

“Excuse me? Since when do
you
know what I’m thinking?”

“I could see the look on your face, Claire. Stop stressing. Everything’s going to be okay this time. You’ve been listening to Jake too much. It’s all going to be digital this time, right?”

I raised my eyes to the ceiling. “The swords are still up there, Dee. Lana is going to be sitting right under them.”

“Get over yourself,” she said. “History doesn’t always repeat itself. This time, it’ll all be fine.”

“Places, actors,” Les shouted. He waved us onto the set with both hands. “Look alive. This isn’t a zombie movie. Yet!”

A few people laughed at his lame joke. We all hurried toward the dining-room table.

“Okay, let’s set you in your places,” Les said. “We’ll block this out and try a few run-throughs.”

Annalee stepped up to Les, fiddling with the top of her blouse. “Where am I, Les? Over by the end?”

Before Les could answer, I heard a man scream from above. “Hey—look out!”

I gazed up in time to see the sword fall. No time to move. It shot straight down. The long blade gleamed in my eyes—until it sliced down over Annalee.

“Noooooo!” I shut my eyes and opened my mouth in a screech of horror.

16

THE UNICORN CAGE

I HEARD A CRASH AND A SHATTER OF GLASS.

Someone grabbed me around the waist. I turned to see Delia holding on to me. “It’s okay, Claire,” she said softly. “It’s okay.”

“Huh?” I raised my eyes to Annalee. She stood beside Les. They were both staring down at the floor in front of them.

Shouts and cries erupted all over the set. Tense laughter. Crew guys moved quickly toward the table.

“Close call,” someone said on the catwalk above us. “Sorry about that. A cable came loose. Everyone okay?”

A light had crashed down from the catwalk. The black metal case was on its side. The glass had shattered into a million pieces over the floor at Les’s and Annalee’s feet.

Not a sword
. Annalee hadn’t been sliced. A light. Not a sword. I had imagined … imagined …

I raised my eyes to the ceiling. The two crisscrossed swords were still in place. My chest was heaving up and down. I gulped in large mouthfuls of air.

Delia held on to me. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I choked out. “I thought—”

“I know what you thought,” Delia said. “Claire, you’ve got to get your head in a better place. Really.”

“But it could have
killed
her,” I insisted.

Les broke in to our conversation. “Okay, go home, everyone. Just go home. I have to deal with this. I won’t have this on my set. Go home. We’ve had enough horror for today.”

Voices and cries of surprise all around.

“And don’t start talking about the Curse of Mayhem Manor,” Les warned. “That was a tech accident. That’s all. I’m going to have a little meeting with these guys right now.”

He waved with his clipboard. “Go on. Get out. Be back tomorrow at nine sharp.” He gazed up at the catwalk. “We’ll have some changes made. That won’t happen again. I promise you, it’ll be safe here from now on.”

Delia and I turned to leave. Annalee trotted up to us. “Wow. That was scary. Like I didn’t know what was happening, and then it was all over before I could even make a sound.”

“Glad you’re okay,” I murmured.

“What a shame no one filmed it or videoed it or anything,” she said. “I could be a star, right? At least on YouTube.”

I saw Delia roll her eyes. “Annalee,” she said, “is that all you think about? Being a star?”

She shook her head. “No. I think about guys, too.”

Delia and I laughed. I’m not sure she meant it to be funny.

“Where are you two going?” she asked, stepping between us and putting an arm around each of our shoulders. “Can I hitch a ride?”

*   *   *

My family and Jake’s family have dinner out together once a week. And we usually eat at The Ivy. There are a million restaurants in L.A., but everyone feels comfortable there, and our parents like to see all their buddies in the movie business.

A lot of young movie people and stars hang at Joan’s on Third. But my parents still prefer The Ivy.

Jake and I always order the same thing—the fried calamari and the salami pizza. Jake’s dad gives us a hard time. “It’s a fine restaurant,” he says. “It’s not a pizza joint.” But Jake and I happen to like the salami pizza. So give us a break.

Mr. Castellano is the only one who is tense at dinner. He’s the one who jumps up from his chair and runs to say hi whenever someone he knows walks in. Jake’s mom just sits and waves to them. And my parents always concentrate on their food. I think they’re happy to let Jake’s dad do all the work and schmooze with all the movie people and let them enjoy their dinner.

Tonight, we arrived at the same time. The valets took the cars, and we sat at our usual table outside near the door so Jake’s dad could see who comes in and out. He was in his uniform—black Armani suit, pale blue shirt, and red tie. Jake’s mom wore designer skinny jeans and a white sweater top, because she gets cold even in the summer.

The waiter came around and Dad ordered the usual, vodka martinis for everyone. “I’ll have one, too,” I said. “Extra olives, please.” A joke. But they just stared at me, and I asked for a Sprite.

“How’s the internship going with Zack?” Jake’s dad asked him, arranging his silverware the way he likes it.

“Great,” Jake said. “I’m learning a lot. He really knows the new software. Of course, we haven’t really had anything to edit. I didn’t go to the studio today.”

“You missed all the excitement,” I said.

Jake grinned. “I heard about it. The Curse of Mayhem Manor strikes again.”

“Don’t talk that way,” his dad snapped. “I don’t want any curse talk around here. This picture is very important to us all.”

“Oops. Sorry.” Jake didn’t bother to make his apology sound sincere.

Mrs. Castellano checked her lipstick in a little hand mirror. “What did you do today instead of the studio?” she asked.

“Shawn came over and we hung out at the pool,” Jake said.

His mom squinted at him. “Have you been drinking?”

“No. Of course not.”

I almost burst out laughing. Jake smelled like a Budweiser factory. Did he really think he was fooling anyone?

His mom pressed her lips together. “I’m always surprised you and Shawn are such good friends. You really don’t have much in common.”

I knew she didn’t approve of Shawn. She thought he was a bum.

“You know,” Jake said, tapping his fork on the table, “the thing about Shawn? I’ve never been with Shawn when I didn’t have a good time.”

His mom blinked. “What’s he doing this summer? He isn’t doing anything at all, right?”

“Hey, give him a break,” Jake said. “His parents just split. He’s … adjusting, you know?”

Mrs. Castellano looked like she wanted to say more about Shawn, but the waiter came with a tray of martinis. My parents had been quiet the whole time. Dad had that faraway look in his eyes, like he had something serious on his mind.

He was dressed casual, in khakis, a pale yellow shirt, and a navy blazer. He clinked glasses with Mom and everyone said “Cheers.” My mom used to act in a TV sitcom, and she’s still pretty hot. For a mother, anyway.

She has frizzy, white-blond hair and big blue eyes, and wears very short skirts and tight t-shirts. She’s totally hung up about looking young. She talks in a whispery, hoarse sitcom voice, and she’s very funny.

I leaned across the table and whispered to Jake, “How’s it going?”

He grinned and whispered back, “Shawn and I had a few beers, so I’m trying to act normal.”

Like duh.

I snickered. “You? Act normal?”

“Whatever.”

At the other end of the table, my mom was talking about a new designer store on Wilshire. She said, “It’s so outrageously expensive, but at least they’re rude to you.” That’s Mom. A laugh a minute.

The dads were shaking their heads and talking in low voices, something about Disney grosses. Or maybe about something that grossed them out. I couldn’t really hear.

Dad suddenly turned to Jake and me. “
Mayhem Manor
is going to be huge,” he said. “Doing a remake of a horror film that ended in real horror is
brilliant
.”

“Sy, it was
your
idea,” Mom told him.

“That’s why it’s brilliant!” he said.

Everyone laughed.

He took a sip of his martini. “It’s going to save the studio. We’ve had nothing but flops. I can’t tell you how much we’re counting on this film. If it doesn’t work, we won’t be eating at The Ivy much longer.”

Whoa. Heavy-duty.

“It’s going to be a smash,” my mom said. “It’s going to be bigger than paste.”

Everyone laughed again.

The waiter brought our first course. The four adults all had salads. Jake and I always split the fried calamari.

As I shoveled a bunch of them onto my plate, I studied Jake. His eyes seemed to be clearing. His cheeks had faded from bright red to pink. I wondered if he remembered the potion. If he remembered being so nasty to me.

And the question just burst from my mouth. You know how sometimes you don’t mean to, but you say what you are thinking?

“Hey, what’s the story about the little guy in the trailer?” I said.

Dad lowered his salad fork. The other three adults turned to me.

“What little guy?” Mr. Castellano asked.

“You know,” I said. “The short little bearded guy with all the black hair? Looks like a bear cub? He’s in that trailer right next to the wardrobe department. It’s crammed with little bottles. He calls them his potions.”

They stared at me. They didn’t move or speak.

My dad and Mr. Castellano exchanged glances. The two women remained silent.

“Oh. Right,” Dad said finally. “The trailer with all the potions.”