A Beautiful Dark

Chapter 1

    T he air had a brutal edge to it as I stood outside of Love the Bean, the local free-trade coffee shop. Snow from a recent storm had frozen over in the subsequent days’ chill, leaving the roads and the sidewalks in town slick and hazardous. I almost slipped four different times as I walked from my car to the front door. The wind sliced at my neck where it was exposed beneath my hat, and I scanned up and down the street for signs of life.
    Welcome to Saturday night in River Springs, Colorado: downtown was dead. Eden’s Gate Market, Big Mouth’s Diner, Into the Woods Outdoor Co.: most of the storefronts were dark.
    Cassie and Dan were waiting for me inside the coffee shop. Every year I made them promise not to throw me a party, and every year they didn’t listen. It had become a tradition. So tonight, I’d planned everything. We were starting with celebratory cupcakes and lattes, courtesy of our friend Ian, who worked at the Bean and was always giving us free stuff; then when Ian ended his shift the four of us were going to see the midnight show of Storm Enemy at the Clark Street Cineplex, because I loved, loved, loved terrible disaster movies.
    Struggling not to lose my balance on the icy sidewalk, I pushed through the front door.
    At first, I thought I’d made a mistake. Except for the recent addition of some fairy-tale-caliber twinkle lights, the room was mostly dark, and completely empty.
    “Hello?” I whispered. The door closed behind me with a light jangle of bells. I could hear a quiet, insistent sound. A soft shhhh ing.
    “Surprise!” Cassie jumped out at me from behind a purple velvet armchair.
    “Come on ,” I groaned dramatically, finding it difficult to act surprised when I really wasn’t. I should have known she’d ignore my plan in favor of hers.
    On cue, probably half of the junior class exploded out from behind various other velvet armchairs and overstuffed couches and from behind the coffee bar. I could see the rest of the girls from the ski team, Cassie’s friends from her band, and Dan’s track buddies. Northwood High School was small enough that most of the different groups got along, and apparently my birthday was enough of a reason for them to converge.
    “Happy birthday!” everyone yelled.
    “Cassie!” I hit her with my hat. “You promised!”
    She held up her hands in surrender. “Sorry. You know I never do what you tell me to do.” She laughed and shook her head. “You never learn.”
    Cassie grabbed my arm and maneuvered me through the crowd toward a circle of couches in the back. I could see Dan waiting for us with a mischievous smile and a glittering box.
    “Okay, wait, I know you also said no presents,” Cassie shouted above the music as we worked our way through the throng, “but I have no self-control.”
    “You better not have spent—”
    “Of course not. Don’t worry, it’s total crap.”
    When we got to the table, I started to say “I hate you,” but Dan interrupted me by nearly toppling me over in a bear hug. “Aw, don’t be mad! Are you mad? Do you still love us? Because if not, my plan to finally have Cassie all to myself worked.” He punched Cassie playfully on her arm. She rubbed the spot, and I could see the muscles in her cheeks twitch as if she was trying not to smile.
    “Please, do you see the apocalypse? Because I’d give up on that happening until you do.” She reached down to pick up a steaming mug. “And even then, it’s negotiable.”
    “I’m holding out for a hot zombie,” I added.
    “Yeah, or, like, the hot scientist who finds the cure.”
    “Or the hot government agent who’s assigned to protect you from the international terrorist who plans to wipe out the nation with the world’s first zombie virus weapon of mass destruction.”
    “Because you carry the zombie virus antidote in your blood.”
    “Exactly.”
    “It’s a recessive trait.”
    “What movie are we talking about?” Dan asked.
    “Anyway, Skye,” Cassie said, ignoring Dan’s question and holding the mug out ceremoniously, “this is for you.” She opened her cardigan, and a flash of metallic flask glinted at me. “Seventeen is a big year.”
    “It’d be bigger if the apocalypse was coming,” Dan mumbled.
    “Did you two start drinking before I got here?” I asked teasingly.
    Cassie was decked out for the occasion in a floral minidress under her favorite yellow vintage cardigan, her red hair piled loosely on top of her head. She wore